Arthropod
An arthropod (from Greek arthro-, joint + podos, foot) is an invertebrate animal having an exoskeleton (external skeleton), a segmented body, and jointed appendages. Arthropods form the phylum Arthropoda, and include the insects, arachnids, myriapods, and crustaceans. Arthropods are characterized by their jointed limbs and cuticle made of chitin, often mineralised with calcium carbonate. The arthropod body plan consists of segments, each with a pair of appendages. The rigid cuticle inhibits growth, so arthropods replace it periodically by moulting. Their versatility has enabled them to become the most species-rich members of all ecological guilds in most environments. They have over a million described species, making up more than 80% of all described living animal species, some of which, unlike most animals, are very successful in dry environments.
Arthropods range in size from the microscopic crustacean Stygotantulus up to the Japanese spider crab. Arthropods' primary internal cavity is a hemocoel, which accommodates their internal organs, and through which their haemolymph - analogue of blood - circulates; they have open circulatory systems. Like their exteriors, the internal organs of arthropods are generally built of repeated segments. Their nervous system is "ladder-like", with paired ventral nerve cords running through all segments and forming paired ganglia in each segment. Their heads are formed by fusion of varying numbers of segments, and their brains are formed by fusion of the ganglia of these segments and encircle the esophagus. The respiratory and excretory systems of arthropods vary, depending as much on their environment as on the subphylum to which they belong.
Podcasts:
ArThRoPod
ALBUMS
- Insect Inside released:
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by Luddite Clone
Arthropod
by: Luddite CloneIsn't this enough to feed your lust does the blood not
satisfy your tongue it used to kill the cravings it used to soothe the beast
I used to chant the
suicide mantra and it was all that I could hear and you waited for the endge
so you could be
the vulture so you could feast away but now you grow impatient and the hymn
is not enough
you're begging for the symphony and calling for the maestro to strike up the
band and cut my
feeble throat isn't this enough isn't this your ride playing with the
handgun painting with my
blood and constructing ugly portraits to make me burn the brushes