We fancy ourselves pretty fortunate -- sometimes even divinely chosen -- for possessing a magical opposable digit. Two of them, no less! We can wind antique watches; we can milk cows; we can throw a knuckleball. I mean, my dog can't open his own food bin. Even the ever-admired elephant struggles with holding a simple rope. A rope! So, clearly, we win. Thanks, thumbs!
Well, I'm sorry to say, you can take your thumbs and shove 'em. You should be embarrassed by your thumb pride, your thumbism. This thumb-centric worldview is a pinched one, to say the least.
Thankfully, the octopus is here to give you a hard lesson in thumbleness.
The octopus, you say? So you'd like to see an octopus try to use a pair of chopsticks, right? The octopus doesn't possess a single finger -- let alone an advanced appendage resembling the crowning achievement of the primate hand.
Well, if it had any sense of humor (and science on that is scant), the octopus would be chuckling to itself. As it weaves together delicate strands of its eggs. As it opens a jar in less than a minute. As it rips open a delicious oyster for lunch. All, of course, without lifting a finger, opposable or otherwise. Chuckle, chuckle, slurp.