Comments on: The Polar Bears of Spitsbergen

The Polar Bears of Spitsbergen

jonson — Sat, 12 May 2007 21:58:39 -0800

The Polar Bears of Spitsbergen is an amazing and gruesome photo gallery posted by a photographer who stumbled across a bear & its cubs at feeding time & spent the next 45 minutes capturing the event. via

By: jonson

jonson — Sat, 12 May 2007 22:02:32 -0800

Panserbjorne!!

By: Citizen Premier

Citizen Premier — Sat, 12 May 2007 22:03:02 -0800

Kuddly wuddly.

By: Salmonberry

Salmonberry — Sat, 12 May 2007 22:04:41 -0800

The true face of Knut! That white fur of theirs clearly has some super stain-fighting formula. I can't get blood stains off my white clothes after I feed on walrus.

By: Falconetti

Falconetti — Sat, 12 May 2007 22:05:24 -0800

I thought they drank Coke and danced with penguins?

By: Salmonberry

Salmonberry — Sat, 12 May 2007 22:05:33 -0800

Or seal. Whatever that mess of bloody organs turns out to be.

By: grobstein

grobstein — Sat, 12 May 2007 22:07:29 -0800

Makes me hungry

By: Abiezer

Abiezer — Sat, 12 May 2007 22:09:29 -0800

Sealed for freshness!

By: mathowie

mathowie — Sat, 12 May 2007 22:10:14 -0800

This photo is like the Colbert poster child for "Bears, #1 threat to America"

By: agentofselection

agentofselection — Sat, 12 May 2007 22:10:57 -0800

Remember, heat only sets the stain, you need cold to get it out. Try swimming 50 miles through nearly-freezing salt water, and then rolling in snow.

By: rbs

rbs — Sat, 12 May 2007 22:11:32 -0800

mathowie: the first thing i thought when i saw the photos was Colbert.

By: Kattullus

Kattullus — Sat, 12 May 2007 22:19:15 -0800

Awww... cuddly gruesomeness! These two pictures are both incredibly cute and also poised to haunt my nightmares. My cuter nightmares, of course.

By: parallax7d

parallax7d — Sat, 12 May 2007 22:19:39 -0800

Fact: Bear eat beets. Bears. Beets. Battlestar Galactica.

By: Oyéah

Oyéah — Sat, 12 May 2007 22:21:43 -0800

I was wondering why a bear, nursing her cubs, would be gruesome. I love the red and white, it seems so Canadian.

By: insulglass

insulglass — Sat, 12 May 2007 22:32:47 -0800

How gruesome. We need us some global warming to put the kibosh on this type of activity.

By: Alvy Ampersand

Alvy Ampersand — Sat, 12 May 2007 22:41:02 -0800

Now I'm worried about vacapinta. Great pics, thanks!

By: cowbellemoo

cowbellemoo — Sat, 12 May 2007 23:03:57 -0800

They've got red on them.

By: bicyclefish

bicyclefish — Sat, 12 May 2007 23:23:37 -0800

I've got so many old family photos of me, my mom, and my little sister that are just like these: happy, nurturing, covered from head to toe in blood.

By: chinston

chinston — Sat, 12 May 2007 23:24:37 -0800

When I saw this, I confess my only thought was: "I can haz bearded seal?"

By: stavrogin

stavrogin — Sat, 12 May 2007 23:38:21 -0800

The seal must have provoked him in some way.

By: BlackLeotardFront

BlackLeotardFront — Sat, 12 May 2007 23:45:39 -0800

Awesome.

By: salvia

salvia — Sun, 13 May 2007 00:07:49 -0800

I've been told polar bears are the only animal that will hunt humans as food.

By: jouke

jouke — Sun, 13 May 2007 00:11:13 -0800

knut will have some conflicting emotions when he grows up. The endearment "I love you so much; I could eat you" towards his caretakers will be semi-literal.

By: kisch mokusch

kisch mokusch — Sun, 13 May 2007 00:30:09 -0800

Amazing, thanks. I also like the ju mp sequ ence.

By: taosbat

taosbat — Sun, 13 May 2007 00:39:50 -0800

Happy Mothers' Day!

By: caddis

caddis — Sun, 13 May 2007 01:05:41 -0800

It's OK, everyone knows that cold water is the best way to remove blood stains.

By: Ethereal Bligh

Ethereal Bligh — Sun, 13 May 2007 03:05:16 -0800

"I've been told polar bears are the only animal that will hunt humans as food." I don't know if this is strictly true, but I think it's true that polar bears are pretty much the baddest land animals around and have zero fear of people (they may stay away out of annoyance or unfamiliarity, but not fear). When one decides they don't mind being around people, they are permanently a serious danger unless something is done. I think past discussions of polar bears by Alaskans and Canadians have indicated that you need a BFG to have any hope of doing anything more than merely pissing-off a polar bear. Basically, you want to just stay the hell away from them. Of course we all now know the bit of trivia that it's those cute, dancing herbivore hippos that kill the most people when they spook, pull up their skirts, and in their terror run right the hell over you. On the other hand, when a polar bear comes your way it's because it wants to eviscerate you, tear off your head, and then probably piss down your neck after discovering what a paltry meal you made. Finally, out of simple spite, it hunts down your family, your friends, your childhood sweetheart, all your business associates, and everyone who's ever read a comment you've posted on the Internet and guts each one like fish.

By: slimepuppy

slimepuppy — Sun, 13 May 2007 04:36:55 -0800

Polar bears are the largest land-based predatory mammals on the planet. Don't fuck with em.

By: Flood

Flood — Sun, 13 May 2007 05:40:26 -0800

well, if the seals would stop swimming around all covered in barbeque sauce, then maybe the bears wouldn't eat them! I blame the seals.

By: michswiss

michswiss — Sun, 13 May 2007 06:20:58 -0800

They're carnivores for meats sake... Nice pics, thanks.

By: madamjujujive

madamjujujive — Sun, 13 May 2007 06:41:49 -0800

Polar bear stalking and attacking a ring seal, attacking a bull walrus, and taking on a walrus herd - all gory but amazing clips. On a more benign note, there are the wonderful inuit dancing bear carvings.

By: malaprohibita

malaprohibita — Sun, 13 May 2007 07:34:30 -0800

All kinds of awesome.

By: Zinger

Zinger — Sun, 13 May 2007 07:48:37 -0800

You can bet the wildlife federations won't be buying these pix for calendars any time soon. Which is a shame, because while I understand the need to garner public sympathy for a cause (like climate change) we also need to remind people that wildlife is wildlife, and as such capable of ripping your head off.

By: nowonmai

nowonmai — Sun, 13 May 2007 08:55:31 -0800

I just thought I should lower the tone.

By: Anyamatopoeia

Anyamatopoeia — Sun, 13 May 2007 09:30:38 -0800

Someone needs to turn some of those pictures into Mother's Day cards.

By: jokeefe

jokeefe — Sun, 13 May 2007 09:41:03 -0800

Of course we all now know the bit of trivia that it's those cute, dancing herbivore hippos that kill the most people when they spook, pull up their skirts, and in their terror run right the hell over you. On the other hand, when a polar bear comes your way it's because it wants to eviscerate you, tear off your head, and then probably piss down your neck after discovering what a paltry meal you made. Finally, out of simple spite, it hunts down your family, your friends, your childhood sweetheart, all your business associates, and everyone who's ever read a comment you've posted on the Internet and guts each one like fish. *dies laughing* But, you know, speaking as a Canadian, every word is truth.

By: OverlappingElvis

OverlappingElvis — Sun, 13 May 2007 09:58:31 -0800

Whoa... Planet Earth was not that gory.

By: LarryC

LarryC — Sun, 13 May 2007 10:49:22 -0800

Great link! I once heard an NPR report about expeditions that have tried to cross the Bering Strait on winter ice. It included a radio transmission from one adventurer panickedly counting the polar bears that were circling in on him.

By: dazed_one

dazed_one — Sun, 13 May 2007 16:53:04 -0800

Man, those bears are hardcore.

By: UbuRoivas

UbuRoivas — Sun, 13 May 2007 19:36:22 -0800

Why didn't they use their lasers to slice up the seal into neat little chunks first? Coulda saved a lot of mess...

By: taosbat

taosbat — Sun, 13 May 2007 20:54:59 -0800

The Bear 1 In late winter I sometimes glimpse bits of steam coming up from some fault in the old snow and bend close and see it is lung-colored and put down my nose and know the chilly, enduring odor of bear. 2 I take a wolf's rib and whittle it sharp at both ends and coil it up and freeze it in blubber and place it out on the fairway of the bears. And when it has vanished I move out on the bear tracks, roaming in circles until I come to the first, tentative, dark splash on the earth. And I set out running, following the splashes of blood wandering over the world. At the cut, gashed resting places I stop and rest, at the crawl-marks where he lay out on his belly to overpass some stretch of bauchy ice I lie out dragging myself forward with bear-knives in my fists. 3 On the third day I begin to starve, at nightfall I bend down as I knew I would at a turd sopped in blood, and hesitate, and pick it up, and thrust it in my mouth, and gnash it down, and rise and go on running. 4 On the seventh day, living by now on bear blood alone, I can see his upturned carcass far out ahead, a scraggled, steamy hulk, the heavy fur riffling in the wind. I come up to him and stare at the narrow-spaced, petty eyes, the dismayed face laid back on the shoulder, the nostrils flared, catching perhaps the first taint of me as he died. I hack a ravine in his thigh, and eat and drink, and tear him down his whole length and open him and climb in and close him up after me, against the wind, and sleep. 5 And dream of lumbering flatfooted over the tundra, stabbed twice from within, splattering a trail behind me, splattering it out no matter which way I lurch, no matter which parabola of bear-transcendence, which dance of solitude I attempt, which gravity-clutched leap, which trudge, which groan. 6 Until one day I totter and fall -- fall on this stomach that has tried so hard to keep up, to digest the blood as it leaked in, to break up and digest the bone itself: and now the breeze blows over me, blows off the hideous belches of ill-digested bear blood and rotted stomach and the ordinary, wretched odor of bear, blows across my sore, lolled tongue a song or screech, until I think I must rise up and dance. And I lie still. 7 I awaken I think. Marshlights reappear, geese come trailing again up the flyway. In her ravine under old snow the dam-bear lies, licking lumps of smeared fur and drizzly eyes into shapes with her tongue. And one hairy-soled trudge stuck out before me, the next groaned out, the next, the next, the rest of my days I spend wandering: wondering what, anyway, was that sticky infusion, that rank flavor of blood, that poetry, by which I lived? from Body Rags, Galway Kinnell (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1967).