- published: 04 Jun 2012
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In biology, a taxon (plural taxa; back-formation from taxonomy) is a group of one or more populations of an organism or organisms seen by taxonomists to form a unit. Although neither is required, a taxon is usually known by a particular name and given a particular ranking, especially if and when it is accepted or becomes established. It is not uncommon, however, for taxonomists to remain at odds over what belongs to a taxon and the criteria used for inclusion. If a taxon is given a formal scientific name, its use is then governed by one of the nomenclature codes specifying which scientific name is correct for a particular grouping.
Although preceded by Linnaeus's system in Systema Naturae (10th edition, 1758) and unpublished work by Bernard and Antoine Laurent de Jussieu, the notion of a unit-based "natural system" of biological classification was first made widely available in 1805 through the publication, as the introduction to the third edition of Jean-Baptiste Lamarck's Flore françoise, of Augustin Pyramus de Candolle's Principes élémentaires de botanique, an exposition of a system for the "natural classification" of plants. Since then, systematists have striven to construct an accurate classification encompassing the diversity of life; today, a "good" or "useful" taxon is commonly taken to be one that reflects evolutionary relationships.
Last night a moth came to my bed,
And filled my tired weary head,
With horrid tales of you,
I can't believe it's true.
But then the lamp shade smiled at me,
And it said, "Believe," it said, "believe."
I want you to know it's nothing personal
First time I had sex I was three.
First time consenting was thirteen.
Though you weren't there you remind,
Me of those hands.
Roses are red, violets are blue,
If I'm schizophrenic, then I am too!
Whatever it takes to escape.
I hope you understand,
Why I'm forced to take your life in my hands.
I want you to know it's nothing personal.
And though we've never met,
I've seen your image in a million waking dreams.
Your eyes they call to me, "Set me free."
Did I ever tell you? You look like my mother.
She once left me in a supermarket.
I promised myself that I'd never feel that way again.
Did I ever tell you? You look like my dear old mother.
I hope you understand,
Why I'm forced to take my life in your name.
I want you to know it's nothing all the same.
And though we've never met,
I've seen your image in a million waking dreams.
Your eyes they call to me, "Set me free."