You guys want to move it along up there? Us snails here in the back of this rock are sick of waiting around to see what’s at the front of the rock. What is it–a leaf? A twig? Some goo? I could use a good goo sighting.
Come on already. This is seriously torture. I am so curious about the front end of this rock. Don’t make me say you’re moving at a snail’s pace. I will say it. I will!
I’m sending this via the snail postal service so if you get it and find yourself on a bench, unable to even remember the last time you were on a rock, don’t be surprised. Those guys are not fast.
Move it the fuck along. I’ve got places to slime.
When this letter was discovered by a young Charles Darwin in 1825, it set him off on the path that would eventually change the face of science. Just 16 years old, young Charles was caught peeping on his brother and his brother’s girlfriend, and so was sent outside by his father “to get some sun.” Wandering around the hills and vales of Shropshire, he noticed a small creature with a postal bag and hat, carrying the above letter.
His first thought was that indeed, snails had a pretty lousy postal service. Twenty-five years to deliver a letter from one end of a rock to another? This postal carrier snail wasn’t even near a rock. Upon further observation, though, something clicked inside him. Namely, why had snails developed any postal service at all, no matter how rudimentary? Of course, it makes sense with today’s understanding of evolution (snails use their postal service mainly to both communicate over long distances (like humans), but also to discreetly order and ship adult items (like both humans and Venezuelan Poison Frogs).
At the time though, young Darwin only could guess. But his studies of the postal and communication systems of insects would eventually lead him to the HMS Beagle and the Galapagos, where he would hit upon the Theory of Evolution after watching two finches arguing over postage rates.