Moose are on the move. Thanks to the Upper Peninsula Moose Research Project, launched earlier this year, we’re getting new insights into how these animals move as the seasons change.

Here you can see the paths of three moose (a cow and her twin calves) that were collared earlier this year. The data show current movements: while one of the twins is staying in the Keweenaw, the mother and her other calf have traveled south and split, as moose often do once they reach a certain age.

We’re seeing expanded movement patterns that reflect the seasonal shift as moose leave their northern summer range and head south for winter.

ATHENIAN: Listen to me then. You’ve done that before, of course, but such a curious eccentricity calls for extreme caution in the speaker and his audience. You see, I’m going to spin a line that almost makes me afraid to open my mouth; still, I’ll pluck up my courage and go ahead.
CLINIAS: What is this thesis of yours, sir?
ATHENIAN: I maintain that no one in any state has really grasped that children’s games affect legislation so crucially as to determine whether the laws that are passed will survive or not. If you control the way children play, and the same children always play the same games under the same rules and in the same conditions, and get pleasure from the same toys, you’ll find that the conventions of adult life too are left in peace without alteration. But in fact games are always being changed and constantly modified and new ones invented, and the younger generation never enthuses over the same thing for two days running. They have no permanent agreed standard of what is becoming or unbecoming either in deportment or their possessions in general; they worship anyone who is always introducing some novelty or doing something unconventional to shapes and colors and all that sort of thing. In fact, it’s no exaggeration to say that this fellow is the biggest menace that can ever afflict a state, because he quietly changes the character of the young by making them despise old things and value novelty. That kind of language and that kind of outlook is—again I say it—the biggest disaster any state can suffer. Listen: I’ll tell you just how big an evil I maintain it is.
CLINIAS: You mean the way the public grumbles at old-fashioned ways of doing things?
ATHENIAN: Exactly.

CLINIAS: Well, you won’t find us shutting our ears to that kind of argument—you couldn’t have a more sympathetic audience.
ATHENIAN: So I should imagine.
CLINIAS: Go on then.
ATHENIAN: Well now, let’s listen to the argument with even greater attention than usual, and expound it to each other with equal care. Change, we shall find, except in something evil, is extremely dangerous. This is true of seasons and winds, the regimen of the body and the character of the soul—in short, of everything without exception (unless, as I said just now, the change affects something evil). Take as an example the way the body gets used to all sorts of food and drink and exercise. At first they upset it, but then in the course of time it’s this very regimen that is responsible for its putting on flesh. Then the regimen and the flesh form a kind of partnership, so that the body grows used to this congenial and familiar system, and lives a life of perfect happiness and health. But imagine someone forced to change again to one of the other recommended systems: initially, he’s troubled by illnesses, and only slowly, by getting used to his new way of life, does he get back to normal. Well, we must suppose that precisely the same thing happens to a man’s outlook and personality. When the laws under which people are brought up have by some heaven-sent good fortune remained unchanged over a very long period, so that no one remembers or has heard of things ever being any different, the soul is filled with such respect for tradition that it shrinks from meddling with it in any way. Somehow or other the legislator must find a method of bringing about this situation in the state. Now here’s my own solution of the problem. All legislators suppose that an alteration to children’s games really is just a ‘game’, as I said before, which leads to no serious or genuine damage. Consequently, so far from preventing change, they feebly give it their blessing. They don’t appreciate that if children introduce novelties into their games, they’ll inevitably turn out to be quite different people from the previous generation; being different, they’ll demand a different kind of life, and that will then make them want new institutions and laws. The next stage is what we described just now as the biggest evil that can affect a state—but not a single legislator takes fright at the prospect. Other changes, that affect only deportment, will do less harm, but it is a very serious matter indeed to keep changing the criteria for praising or censuring a man’s moral character, and we must take great care to avoid doing so.
CLINIAS: Of course.
ATHENIAN: Well then, are we still happy about the line we took earlier, when we said that games in general were means of representing the characters of good men and bad? Or what?
CLINIAS: Yes, our view remains exactly the same.
ATHENIAN: So our position is this: we must do everything we possibly can to distract the younger generation from wanting to try their hand at presenting new subjects, especially in video games; and we must also stop pleasure-mongers seducing them into the attempt.
CLINIAS: You’re absolutely right.

“Do you want to return to the hypothesis from the beginning, in the hope that
another kind of result may come to light as we go back over it?”—“I do
indeed.”—“If one is, we are saying, aren’t we, that we must agree on the
consequences for it, whatever they happen to be?”—“Yes.”—“Consider from the
beginning: if one is, can it be, but not partake of being?”—“It
cannot.”—“So there would also be the being of the one, and that is not the same
as the one. For if it were, it couldn’t be the being of the one, nor could
the one partake of it. On the contrary, saying that one is would be like saying
that one is one. But this time that is not the hypothesis, namely, what the
consequences must be, if one is one, but if one is. Isn’t that so?”—“Of
course.”—“Is that because ‘is’ signifies something other than
‘one’?”—“Necessarily.”—“So whenever someone, being brief, says ‘one is,’ would
this simply mean that the one partakes of being?”—“Certainly.”

“Let’s again say what the consequences will be, if one is. Consider
whether this hypothesis must not signify that the one is such as to have
parts.”—“How so?”—“In this way: if we state the ‘is’ of the one that is, and the
‘one’ of that which is one, and if being and oneness are not the same, but both
belong to that same thing that we hypothesized, namely, the one that is, must it
not itself, since it is one being, be a whole, and the parts of this whole be
oneness and being?”—“Necessarily.”—“Shall we call each of these two parts a part
only, or must the part be called part of the whole?”—“Of the whole.”—“Therefore
whatever is one both is a whole and has a part.”—“Certainly.”

“Now, what about each of these two parts of the one that is, oneness
and being? Is oneness ever absent from the being part or being from the
oneness part?”—“That couldn’t be.”—“So again, each of the two parts possesses
oneness and being; and the part, in its turn, is composed of at least two parts;
and in this way always, for the same reason, whatever part turns up always
possesses these two parts, since oneness always possesses being and being always
possesses oneness. So, since it always proves to be two, it must
never be one.”—“Absolutely.”—“So, in this way, wouldn’t the one that is be
unlimited in multitude?”—“So it seems.”

“Come, let’s proceed further in the following way.”—“How?”—“Do we
say that the one partakes of being, and hence is?”—“Yes.”—“And for this reason
the one that is was shown to be many.”—“Just so.”—“And what about the one
itself, which we say partakes of being? If we grasp it in thought alone by
itself, without that of which we say it partakes, will it appear to be only one,
or will this same thing also appear to be many?”—“One, I should
think.”—“Let’s see. Must not its being be something and it itself something
different, if in fact the one is not being but, as one, partakes of
being?”—“Necessarily.”—“So if being is something and the one is something
different, it is not by its being one that the one is different from being, nor
by its being being that being is other than the one. On the contrary, they are
different from each other by difference and otherness.”—“Of course.”—“And so
difference is not the same as oneness or being.”—“Obviously not.”