Last month, we took a tour of the weird, unexpected things people have decided to name after writers. As it turns out, there are a lot of weird things named after writers. So crank up the Belle & Sebastian, and check out the next round of our favorites.

1. 3453 Dostoevsky is a minor planet named after Fyodor Dostoyevsky, discovered in 1981 by Lyudmila Karachkina, a woman who was basically the Duke Ellington of asteroid discoverers. She was so prolific that she discovered 130 of them during the late 70s and early 80s. A look at a list of her asteroids hints at some more of her favorite writers: 3469 Bulgakov, 3508 Pasternak and 5676 Voltaire. She also seems to have an affinity for the music of Édith Piaf and the work of Charlie Chaplin.

2. Draculoides bramstokeri is a small troglobite arachnid that lives in Australia (pictured above). It’s named after Bram Stoker and his book Dracula because of the pleasant way in which it chows down on its prey: the thing grasps its victim with its fang-pincers and crunches it like a Mr. Goodbar before sucking the juices out. Somewhere, Bram is smiling.

3. Robinson Crusoe Island is 674 km west of South America in the South Pacific Ocean. It’s where Alexander Selkirk, a sailor whose story likely inspired Daniel Defoe, lived for four years. Selkirk tried to convince his fellow shipmates to stay on the island with him and desert captain Thomas Stradling. No one listened to him and he was left behind by himself on the island. The island itself was first known as Juan Fernandez Island when it was discovered by Spanish explorers in 1574, but the Chilean government changed the name in 1966.

4. Quarks, particles that make up matter, get their name from a line in James Joyce‘s Finnegans Wake:

Three quarks for Muster Mark!
Sure he has not got much of a bark
And sure any he has it’s all beside the mark.

Turns out science genius Murray Gell-Mann, who originally proposed the quark model, is a Joyce fan. In his own words, because he’s smarter than we’ll ever be:

“In 1963, when I assigned the name ‘quark’ to the fundamental constituents of the nucleon, I had the sound first, without the spelling, which could have been ‘kwork’. Then, in one of my occasional perusals of Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce, I came across the word ‘quark’ in the phrase ‘Three quarks for Muster Mark’. Since ‘quark’ (meaning, for one thing, the cry of the gull) was clearly intended to rhyme with ‘Mark’, as well as ‘bark’ and other such words, I had to find an excuse to pronounce it as ‘kwork’. But the book represents the dream of a publican named Humphrey Chimpden Earwicker. Words in the text are typically drawn from several sources at once, like the ‘portmanteau’ words in Through the Looking-Glass. From time to time, phrases occur in the book that are partially determined by calls for drinks at the bar. I argued, therefore, that perhaps one of the multiple sources of the cry ‘Three quarks for Muster Mark’ might be ‘Three quarts for Mister Mark’, in which case the pronunciation ‘kwork’ would not be totally unjustified. In any case, the number three fitted perfectly the way quarks occur in nature.”

Another word from Joyce’s polysemantic puzzle that we know today is monomyth, borrowed by Joseph Campbell, the expert on the myth of the hero.

5. Ginsberg’s Theorem restates the three laws of thermodynamics as:

1. You can’t win. (conservation of mass/energy)
2. You can’t break even. (entropy increases)
3. You can’t get out of the game. (impossibility of reaching absolute zero)

The theorem is attributed to Allen Ginsberg, and equally well-known is Freeman’s Commentary on Ginsberg’s theorem, which states that major philosophies have been based on misinterpretations of Ginsberg’s Theorem:

1. Capitalism is based on the assumption that you can win.
2. Socialism is based on the assumption that you can break even.
3. Mysticism is based on the assumption that you can quit the game.