In case you were wondering, Helicoprion is a genus of shark-like fish that went extinct 250 million years ago. Helicoprion was very odd-looking: its teeth were arranged in a whorl resembling a circular saw. People were puzzled about the exact purpose of the tooth whorl, and early illustrations posited that the whorl was placed on the tail as a defensive mechanism, or curled up over the rostrum, a bit like a flamboyant unicorn. It was recently discovered that the tooth whorl was actually just teeth and that it did sit in the lower jaw, positioned almost exactly like a circular saw. Scientists were baffled as they tried to explain how on earth this creature managed to eat with such bizarre dentition, but eat it did.
You can tell a lot about a creature from its teeth. For instance, one of the defining distinctions between groups of mammals is the alignment of their teeth. Tracking the evolution of reptiles to mammals involves looking at jaws and teeth. Most importantly, teeth tell you what something eats, and thus its place in the food web. Which leads me to the Dartmouth food web: if Dartmouth students had specially evolved teeth, what would they look like? I, for one, would probably have teeth adapted to the extraction and chewing of fried cheese. My fondness for mozzarella sticks probably accounts for why I cannot fit into my jeans from high school anymore, but I would much rather eat mozz sticks than wear pants, so no harm done. One of the greatest disappointments of my Dartmouth career is the increased difficulty in obtaining these delicious morsels. In Collis, mozz sticks are now placed behind glass, regulated like cough medicine at a pharmacy. It is no longer possible to drunkenly munch on them in line, eating six and only purchasing three. I ordered EBAs my first night back, and to my surprise they didn't have mozz sticks, only "cheese fritters," which are a poor substitute.
But that's just me. Other students would have teeth suited to more nutritional things such as kale, quinoa or egg-white wraps from the Hop. Wide molars to chomp down on vegan granola. Front teeth modified into a straw for the smoothie-sippers. Frat pledges would be equipped with only a dentine and funnel, perfect for ingesting copious amounts of beer.
Since the freshmen are still new, clogging up the lines everywhere and easy to spot (lanyards and '17 jerseys make it almost too easy, but if you're looking for incognito freshmen, their tell-tale aura of confusion and feigned sophistication is a surefire way to tell). I feel inspired to advise on choosing a diet. Freshmen, I know 20 meals a week are ridiculous. Back in my day, everything was a la carte, you could duck into FoCo for a drink or fro-yo without having to swipe for a meal, and the Hop was open for breakfast. The closing of KAF at 8 p.m. and removal of the sandwiches is an injustice so recent that it pains me to think about. Basically, things were better in my youth.
But even though the meal plan is annoying, and sometimes there's nothing edible at FoCo except for lettuce and chicken nuggets, I must note that it is important to eat real food once in a while. It must also be noted that lukewarm, soggy breadsticks in a frat at midnight are inexplicably one of the most delicious things in the world.
Be sure to make a few vegetarian friends, because when you run out of DBA at the end of term, vegetarians tend to have some left. If you happen to be a vegetarian and have DBA left, don't be a jerk: go find some hungry friends and buy them food. On the same note, EBAs is meant for sharing, so always order more than you think you'll eat. And that's it for any sage advice, because I want to go back to talking about Helicoprion.
Though cartilaginous fish, Helicoprion are actually something like second cousins twice removed from sharks and rays. Their closest relatives are the subclass Holocephali, whose only living representations are chimaeras, rare fishes that populate the cold, dark waters of the deep ocean. If you've never heard of Holocephali, don't worry, because I hadn't either until I took vertebrate zoology sophomore fall. Chimaeras, despite their beastly name, are actually quite cute, though I may not be the best judge, because I tend to find a lot of weird things cute. They've got wide eyes, big, wing-like fins and festive, erect dorsal fins. I believe they're called chimaeras because they look like a bunch of different animal parts all stuck together. They're also known as ratfishes, rabbitfishes and ghost sharks, but I'm partial to "chimaera" because if you're going to be a funny-looking, poorly-understood deepwater cartilaginous fish you might as well have a sick name.
One lesson to take away from Helicoprion and their chimaera cousins is that it's okay to be odd-looking, eat odd things, not fit into your jeans from high school and live in cold, isolated habitats, like 8,000 feet underwater or New Hampshire. If that's how you evolved, roll with it. At least you didn't go extinct 250 million years ago, nor are you the only remaining species of your clade. Weird people may even find you interesting and write a column about you.
