Sizzling Chili Cicadas? How About Some Cicada-Rhubarb Pie? Bugs will be bursting from the ground in patches along the East Coast this spring when the 17-year Brood II cicadas emerge. Will you sink your teeth in?

Put away that old Rand McNally map — it's time for a new way to see what America really looks like.

When a bunch of people get into an elevator, do they segregate in any predictable way? Do tall ones stand in the back? Do men stand in different places than women? Who looks where?

The images are sharp and concentrated. But this isn't art, it's more than advertising, and it's not quite education. It's an invitation.

Jaak Panksepp tickles a rat. A behind-the-scenes moment from our Laughter episode.

The Oatmeal

A few months ago on Radiolab, we did an hour on color, which included a segment on rainbow watching. We imagined a man, a dog, a sparrow and a butterfly all gazing at the same rainbow and we asked: How many colors does each see?

What if you put all 7 billion humans into one city, a city as dense as New York, with its towers and skyscrapers? How big would that 7 billion-sized city be? As big as New Jersey? Texas? Bigger? Are cities protecting wild spaces on the planet? We try a little experiment to find out.

If you've got cicada war stories, we want to hear 'em! Tell us what it was like, and let us know if you have any words of bug wisdom to share.

Monty Python's John Cleese gives us a highly sophisticated, totally un-understandable, look at the human brain. The secret is, Cleese isn't speaking English. It sounds like English, but its nonsense. The closed caption English translation goes nuts, especially at the very end. It curses!

Periodical cicadas emerge in cycles of 17 and 13 years, making them a kind of cultural bug clock -- a buzzing reminder of invasions of yore, and a good excuse to think back on where we were the last time they burst from the ground in massive, memorable hordes.

Schrëwdinger lives it up in the last red carpet event before voting closes today in the Name Your Ancestor contest...

Our common ancestor was seen trying to cajole the box office attendant at the Cherry Lane Theatre earlier today. But the imposing mammal was turned away -- apparently even the animal that led to all of us needs ID when picking up will call tickets.

Super PAC (Wo)Men for Mancestor makes a final push for its candidate in the last 24 hours of the Name Your Ancestor vote.

They call them Romance Pants, from Instructables.com, one of the world's premier do-it-yourself sites. They're for the Romantic Man who has overplanned (and overthought and overdone) his upcoming night of love. One 7805 voltage regulator required.

Look who we spotted grabbing a cup of coffee this morning. We would've said hi, but it's kind of awkward...we still don't know this critter's name. Help us out -- vote now and let us know who you'd rather wake up to: Schrëwdinger or Mancestor.

There's nothing prehistoric about this creature's fashion sense!

Common ancestor supporters are out in force for their candidates, in the final days of the vote...