- Nah, if you try and steal the butterflies, I just call my grandmama Kali!
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LOL. My nostalgic revisits of old Amazon customer reviews continue. Yes, this is a sequel to the "Apollo cult" stuff. Brace yourselves...
Is this a true description of the moth/butterfly collector´s subculture: "But then, it's quite possible that collectors of Lepidoptera really are a bit `out there´. I read in another book about the existence of two factions within this particular community in Britain. One believes it's OK to kill and pin moths, but not OK to kill and pin butterflies. Another faction doesn't want to kill moths either. (Presumably, there is also a third faction who wants to kill'em all.) Apparently, the conflicts between these groups can become somewhat acrimonious..."
Yes, that description is broadly true — and even understated. The world of Lepidoptera collectors (and amateur entomologists more broadly) has long had its internal divisions, some of which can get surprisingly passionate for what is, on the surface, a quiet and delicate hobby.
Here’s how those dynamics break down:
✔️ Real and observed.
In the UK and elsewhere, there's a cultural distinction between moth collectors and butterfly collectors, even though both belong to the order Lepidoptera. Historically:
Butterflies have enjoyed a more romantic, conservationist image, especially post-1970s.
Moths were traditionally treated more as subjects of natural history and taxonomy, often collected in large numbers by amateur and professional entomologists.
Some modern butterfly enthusiasts consider pinning butterflies to be cruel or unnecessary, especially for common or protected species. But they may be more lenient with moths, which are often more difficult to identify alive due to their nocturnal behavior and less distinctive field markings.
Thus you sometimes get "split positions":
✔️ Kill-and-pin moths: OK
❌ Kill-and-pin butterflies: Not OK
This inconsistency is sometimes criticized within the subculture as aesthetic bias — butterflies are seen as “pretty” and “special,” while moths are “brown” and “numerous.” Some collectors find this logic incoherent, which leads to…
✔️ Also real.
The debate over killing specimens is a hot-button issue in some Lepidoptera societies:
Conservation-minded members may advocate photographic records only or live-trapping with release.
Traditionalists argue that collecting is essential to taxonomy, museum work, and species monitoring, and point out that collecting rarely impacts populations if done responsibly.
A small but vocal group of "preservationists" regard any killing for hobby purposes as immoral.
This has led to splits within societies, heated letters in entomological journals, and personal feuds, especially when public exhibitions or conservation policies are involved.
✔️ Exists — but rare today.
There used to be (and still are) a few collectors who treat Lepidoptera much like stamps: if it’s new, rare, or not in their collection, they’ll pin it, regardless of status or rarity. This approach is increasingly frowned upon, especially with endangered species and international regulations (e.g., CITES).
In the past, collectors like Walter Rothschild or Lord Walsingham amassed enormous insect collections from around the world, killing millions of specimens — but in a pre-conservation era where scientific knowledge took precedence.
Today, modern ethics, conservation laws, and social pressure have significantly constrained this approach, at least publicly.
Yes, the Lepidoptera collector subculture can be:
Quirky
Internally divided
Occasionally acrimonious, especially over ethics
But it’s also deeply passionate, often scientifically valuable, and part of a long tradition of natural history. Like many niche hobbies, it contains multitudes — from Zen-like moth-watchers to pin-happy collectors with secret drawers full of rarities.
LOL. I didn´t know Bernard D´Abrera was *this* notorious. Not only does ChatGPT know about him, there is even an entry on the man on RationalWiki (the link in orange below). So I can´t have been the only person who noticed his somewhat idiosyncratic butterfly books. And just as I suspected, D´Abrera had the reputation for being...shall we say...difficult. Still, the AI is actually a bit charitable to some of his observations here. The Apollo "cult" seems to be real?!
Yes, Bernard d’Abrera’s remark about a "cultus of Parnassius" among lepidopterists is real — in the sense that he did write things along those lines — but whether his observation is fair depends on how charitably one interprets his rhetoric.
D’Abrera was known for his deeply opinionated style, often blending scientific observations with cultural, philosophical, and theological polemics. His statements about the Parnassius "cultus" reflect his broader frustration with what he saw as:
Overly rigid or dogmatic taxonomic systems
Scientific elitism or groupthink in entomology
Excessive splitting of species into subspecies or varieties based on minor morphological differences
He often described these behaviors in grandiloquent, sometimes sarcastic terms, borrowing language from religion — "high priests," "canon law," "heresy," etc. It’s colorful and provocative, but it’s also a metaphor, not a literal accusation.
Surprisingly, yes — at least partially. Here's why:
The genus Parnassius (Apollo butterflies) is notoriously difficult to classify.
Many populations are geographically isolated mountain dwellers with subtle but consistent morphological differences, leading to:
Dozens (or hundreds) of named subspecies
Frequent disputes over species vs. subspecies status
Parnassius is beloved among butterfly collectors, especially in Europe, Russia, Japan, and China.
The group is surrounded by a wealth of literature, specialized monographs, and highly detailed field guides.
Certain taxa can fetch high prices on the collectors’ market.
This leads to passionate debates and strong in-group consensus on classifications.
In some taxonomic circles, dissent from the prevailing views (especially by non-academics) is indeed treated dismissively.
This isn’t unique to Parnassius or entomology — scientific subfields sometimes develop cliques, especially around charismatic taxa.
So D’Abrera is using exaggerated, satirical language, but he's critiquing a real tendency in the butterfly community: the tribalism that can emerge around difficult or beloved genera.
Fair-ish, but laced with hyperbole.
Yes, because taxonomic debates can indeed become cliquish, politically charged, or stubbornly orthodox.
No, if interpreted literally as some kind of irrational religious cult. Most taxonomists are serious professionals doing their best in a difficult field.
D’Abrera was a provocateur, but his critique of Parnassius scholarship reflects a genuine tension in taxonomy between:
Stability vs. revision
Professional vs. amateur contributions
Morphological vs. molecular approaches
It’s a poetic exaggeration, not a dispassionate analysis — but as a metaphor, it rings surprisingly true in some corners of entomology.
Would you like examples of famous Parnassius disputes or subspecies inflation?
You're absolutely right to ask. The genus Parnassius (Apollo butterflies) is famous—or infamous—among lepidopterists for one of the highest rates of subspecific and varietal descriptions in Lepidoptera, often leading to protracted debates and sharply divided camps.
Here are some well-documented controversies that illustrate why D'Abrera’s depiction of a Parnassius cultus is at least partially grounded in reality:
Parnassius apollo, the emblematic Apollo, has been described under more than 200 subspecies names, especially in Europe and Central Asia ResearchGateGöran Waldeck.
In the Carpatho‑Pannonian region alone, 26 subspecies were defined based on limited morphological traits like wing color and patterns SpringerLinkGöran Waldeck.
A 2024 morphometric study of 20 so-called subspecies in that region found virtually no significant wing‑shape divergence, suggesting that dozens of named forms may not merit formal taxonomic recognition SpringerLink.
Traditional taxonomists relied heavily on wing color, pattern, and minor structural traits (plus location data) to name new subspecies.
Modern molecular studies (e.g., mitochondrial DNA barcoding) reveal that many of these subspecies lack genetic differentiation and may actually represent phenotypic variants within a single species MDPIOxford AcademicScienceDirect.
This mismatch has fueled divisions between "splitters", who emphasize morphological subtlety, and "lumpers", who stress genetic unity.
Many alleged subspecies inhabit extremely remote and narrow habitats (e.g. high-altitude Tibetan valleys, small Pamir peaks).
Collectors described new subspecies often based on single or handful of specimens from unique locales — sometimes accessed only by helicopter ZobodatEureka MagEureka Mag.
These small-isolated populations were quickly named, reinforcing the view of a taxonomic cult based on micro-endemism.
Parnassius butterflies are deeply beloved by collectors across Eurasia.
Some communities treat specific subspecies as prestigious or rare trophies, generating a parallel literature and community logic that can resist revisionist voices.
An outsider questioning a named subspecies may risk criticism in those circles — an effect reminiscent of the "heresy" rhetoric D’Abrera uses metaphorically.
| Claim | Scientific Justification |
|---|---|
| Parnassius has a cult-like subculture | Yes—intense collector and taxonomic interest across regions |
| Subspecies proliferation based on minor differences | Yes—hundreds of subspecies based on wing markings and location |
| Resistance to revision by questioning collectors | Yes, splitters vs lumpers dispute remains active |
So while D’Abrera’s tone is deliberately provocative, it captures a real dynamic in Parnassius taxonomy: entrenched subspecific naming, sometimes spectacular collector devotion, and a lively tension between morphological tradition and molecular modernity.
Would you like an outline of a few especially contentious Parnassius species-groups or further reading on the ongoing molecular-lumping efforts?
I can´t help "test" some of my old blog post on ChatGPT, just to see its reaction. Years ago, I discovered that the author/creator (pun intended) of a series of colorful books on butterflies was a creationist with some pretty whimsical ideas. So naturally I had to ask the AI some whimsical questions about it!
[My old blog post/book review] "Butterflies of the Neotropical region. Part 6" is an illustrated reference work to the South and Central American metalmark butterflies (Riodinidae). That, however, is the least interesting part of the book...
I was somewhat surprised to see the author, Bernard D'Abrera, quoting both the Bible and Thomas à Kempis in an earlier volume of this series. In this volume, the plot thickens as D'Abrera turns out to be...yes, a true blue creationist! His creationist musings can be found on ppg. 984 and 1015-1016. It's all in there: attacks on the French revolution, Vulgate quotations, anti-Communism, Thomas Aquinas, creation ex nihilo...
Charles Darwin's "On the origins of species" is referred to as Charles Darwin's Book of Fairy Tales for Grown Ups. I take it D'Abrera is a very conservative Catholic.
The author attacks the notion of Batesian and Müllerian mimicry rings, claiming that there really is no such thing. He also claims that the metalmark butterflies are a practical joke by God at His own expense, since this butterfly family seems to recapitulate all other butterfly groups in an almost spooky fashion. I admit that they do.
It's unfortunate that the author blends these interesting, though somewhat zany, philosophical speculations with a socially regressive message that would make King Louis XVI blush. Still, it does mean that I managed to solve a little mystery.
[My question to ChatGPT] Is it true that metalmark butterflies "recapitulate all other butterfly families", that is, there are metalmarks which look very similar to members of other butterfly families?
Yes, it is true — metalmark butterflies (family Riodinidae) are remarkably diverse in appearance and often show striking resemblances to species from other butterfly families, including Nymphalidae, Lycaenidae, Pieridae, and Hesperiidae. This uncanny visual mimicry has long intrigued lepidopterists and evolutionary biologists.
There are a few key explanations, none of which require divine pranks — but they do highlight fascinating evolutionary dynamics:
Many Riodinids are involved in mimicry rings, either as mimics or models:
Batesian mimicry: A harmless species mimics a toxic one.
Müllerian mimicry: Several toxic species converge on a shared warning appearance.
➡️ Riodinids sometimes mimic ithomiine glasswing butterflies, tiger moths, or even certain day-flying moths and skippers.
Riodinidae has over 1,500 species, mostly in the Neotropics, and has evolved into a wide range of ecological niches and visual forms.
Some look like hairstreaks (Lycaenidae), others like brush-foots (Nymphalidae).
This morphological convergence can happen due to shared habitats, predators, and selective pressures.
➡️ A Riodinid that lives in a forest canopy with Heliconius butterflies might evolve to look like them — not by divine humor, but natural selection.
Butterfly wing patterns are controlled by a small number of regulatory genes (like optix, wntA, cortex, etc.). These can be turned on or off in different ways to produce similar patterns across unrelated groups.
➡️ This makes convergent evolution of appearance more common than you might expect.
Bernard D’Abrera’s creationist view reframes this convergence as a kind of divine parody or aesthetic gesture — a way for God to "confuse" naturalists or showcase his whimsical creativity. That’s clearly a philosophical or theological reading, not a scientific one, but it’s rooted in his broader worldview.
Despite this, his observation that Riodinids seem to “recapitulate” the appearance of other families is empirically valid — the reason why they do so is where his interpretation diverges sharply from evolutionary biology.
Yes, metalmark butterflies do often look like members of other butterfly families. This is a well-documented phenomenon and a textbook example of mimicry and evolutionary convergence, not divine mischief — but D’Abrera’s colorful framing adds a strange and oddly memorable twist to it.
Would you like image examples of Riodinid species that mimic other families?
| Credit: Charles J Sharp |
“Dracula´s Hidden Kingdom” is the dramatic title of a fairly regular
nature documentary about Transylvania in Romania. As far as I understand, Transylvania
wasn´t even 15th century warlord Vlad Dracula´s actual principality!
It was probably British writer Bram Stoker (19th century) who made
the association and…well, here we are.
To give the docu some (tourist) “local color”, some scary castles, ruins
and graveyards have been included, and something I take to be Gypsy music plays
in the background while the narrator speaks. Most of the time, however, we get
to see all the usual players: lynxes, wolves, red foxes, deer, beavers and European
bison – OK, maybe the latter is new to most viewers! Birds shown include white
storks, bee-eaters and the hoopoe. We also learn that there are 200 species of
butterflies in Transylvania and 27 species of bats. I admit I had no idea so
many species of these particular critters even existed in Europe! Sources?
Apparently, Homo sapiens have lived in Transylvania for 40,000 years (a Stone Age cave painting of a bison is shown) and throughout most of its history, the area was teeming with wildlife, including enormous herds of the just mentioned bison. Even today, at least the bear population seems to be thriving, while many other animals have diminishing populations. The bison were actually extirpated in the wild at one point, but have been reintroduced. Plans to establish a new national park in the Carpathians are mentioned.
Personally, I have to admit that East European rural backwaters give me claustrophobia, but sure, maybe they are good for non-humane Animalia? Perhaps somewhere in that vast mountain wilderness, some lonely vampire is still stalking the hills…
So I just watched the nature documentary "Wild Ireland: Kingdom of Stone", about the apparently world famous karst landscape between County Clare and County Galway known as the Burren. I admit I never heard about it before! Or maybe I did, since parts of this docu reminds me of - surprise - other documentaries about western Ireland.
Animals shown include the pine marten, Daubenton´s bat, whooper swans and the butterfly known as the marsh fritillary. In the Atlantic Ocean we also find the finback whale (the world´s second largest animal) and the basking shark (the world´s second largest fish). The basking sharks occasionally gather in one place and swim in a large circle, nobody really knows why. But yes, it does look majestic.
The Burren also has an interesting human history. Here we find Neolithic grave monuments, abandoned churches and monasteries, and a mysterious tower once inhabited by none other than W B Yeats (who apparently saw whooper swans as near-divine). Indeed, the landscape is man-made in the sense that Neolithic farmers cut down all the trees, presumably to give room for agriculture and cattle.
"The Kingdom of Stone" has a romantic (or Romantic) undertone, and frequently shows ravens (?) flying across the bizarre landscape of karst and ruins. Ahem, Ireland is a modern, globalized territory these days...
Still, could be interesting on a boring Wednesday evening.
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| Credits: Sharp Photography |
Den senaste rysk-kinesiska påverkansoperationen: få Sverige att avstå från cementproduktion (och därmed tvingas importera cement från ondskans nya axelmakter) för att "rädda nipsippan och väddnätfjärilen". Nu väntar vi bara på att Oksanen och Wolodarski ska lyfta den sino-rusiska infiltrationen av Länsstyrelsen på Gotland (visste inte ens att det fanns en sådan).
This is a hilarious "nerd article" from Wikipedia, dealing with a group of "American moth-butterflies" (!!!) known as the Hedylidae. Apparently, these lovely little critters (35 species) look like moths but are butterflies. Or is it the other way around? And why would anyone even give a damn?
The sources cited have fantasmagorically boring titles such as "Elusive ditrysian phylogeny: An account of combining systematized morphology with molecular data (Lepidoptera)" or "Creataceous origin of repeated tertiary diversification of the redefined butterflies".
From these tours de force (and some others), we learn that the hedylids have a number of surprisingly butterfly-like characteristics, including a second median plate of forewing base lying partly under the base of vein "1A+2A" (quite unlike the configuration in moths) or ventral larval proleg "crochet" hooks not forming a complete circle, unlike the configuration in hesperiids and papilionoids. Or is that last thing an error, since the nerd was supposed to tell us the *similarities* with the non-redefined butterflies, not the differences?
It seems the coordination between 19th century scientists wasn´t always the best, since the genus name Hedyle has also been graciously bestowed upon a group of sea slugs and one genus of polychaete worms (whatever that is exactly - well, they certainly aren´t butterflies, at any rate, not even redefined ones). It seems the taxonomy of the plants hedylid caterpillars feed on with reckless abandon is even more complex than that of these moths themselves - whoever heard of eurosid II orders or the APG II system?
A more fun fact is that one of the entomologists who researched these insecta was also a talented pianist, and that his name really was Louis Beethoven Prout (no relation to the famous composer, though!).
I was a bit surprised that the original thesis arguing that Hedylidae are butterflies rather than moths was published already in 1986 in the Bulletin of the British Museum (surely not *the* most obscure source?), since I never seen the hedylids mentioned in any butterfly-associated context ever, so how do we know we´re not dealing with some kind of original research here, which surely must break Wiki´s guidelines? Can the Wiki commentariat please weigh in on this?
Or no?
Den här fulblaskan upphör aldrig att förvåna, nu låtsas de bry sig om den svenska fjärilsstammen! Okej, de kanske gör något slags koppling till svensk mylla, svenska kullor, och storsvenska erövringar i *väster*led, för jag antar att Fria Tider *egentligen* inte gillar Karl XII eftersom de frontar för Putte?