2.1.11

Oh Shat...ner

Imagine, if you will, that you're asked by the producer of a TV show that makes dramatizations of paranormal events if you've ever experienced something paranormal yourself.  You tell him about how one day you were out riding your motorcycle in the Mojave Desert and deciding to stop to take a drink of water.  When you go to start the bike again, it won't start.  On the horizon, you can see a smudge of gray in the sky, and figuring that, since it's in the direction the road is going anyway, you'll push your bike towards it.  As you get closer, you see that it's a UFO hovering in the distance.  Once you get close, the world fades out and you remember nothing else until you wake up some time later in a different location along the same highway, now within view of a gas station.  You push the bike the remainder of the way to the gas station, get the bike fixed and yourself rehydrated, and continue safely along your way.
Out of gas?  Need water?  Follow us to Grey's Gas & Gulp!
The producer is, of course, thrilled.  This is exactly the kind of story that he was hoping for.  He turns your story into the pilot for the show and from there the story spreads.  Why does the story spread?  Because you're famous.

Who are you?  You're William Shatner, and you're currently playing Captain Kirk on Star Trek.  Later in the year you release the album The Transformed Man, which some people claim is a very 'spacey' album.  Everyone else just claims it's terrible (#45 in the worst 50 albums ever according to one source), but I'll let you decide that for yourself here, while pointing out the album released by Shatner's co-star Leonard Nimoy in the same year, Two Sides Of Leonard Nimoy.

Alright, so you're an actor playing a character that loves to get some alien booty, and now word is out that you've actually encountered aliens.  Do you downplay it, pretend that it never happened?  Of course not!  You acknowledge it whenever asked about it!  You use it to your advantage!  You make it part of your mystique!  You... secretly regret telling the story for almost 40 years?

True story.  Shatner regrets ever telling the story, because it's just that: A story.  It never happened.  Despite making it into a biography (unofficial, unendorsed, unappreciated), the story about aliens in the Mojave never happened.  Here's Shatner himself explaining it in an interview (the interviewer is his daughter, FYI):

In 2008 Shatner released his autobiography, Up Till Now, and set the record straight. The story about meeting aliens was just an actor embellishing an otherwise pretty dull story for a friend, and the whole thing took off and got out of his control.

William Shatner: Victim of his own brilliant storytelling.


Sources:
Image stolen from NewAgeDawns.com
WilliamShatner.com
Wikipedia.org
NYMag.com
UFOEncounters.co.uk
PurpleSlinky.com
ParanormalNewsCentral.com
RockListMusic.co.uk

1.1.11

Ĉu Vi Parolas Esperanton?

One of my favourite things about this blog is coming across some truly epic names. Gideon Algernon Mantell, Queen Ulrika Elenora of Sweden and Katsushika Hokusai are the only ones you'll see listed, but trust me when I say that in my research I come across a lot more. But they're only vaguely connected to my topic at hand, so I have no reason to mention them. Today's topic comes to us courtesy of another epic name from history: Ludwig Lazarus Zamenhof. If that's not an epic name, I'm not sure any name would qualify.

So what did this man of such an epic name do that I've heard of him, and am now sharing his name with you? He made a language. Not an easy task, but he's hardly the only one. J.R.R. Tolkien (John Ronald Reuel Tolkien, a fairly epic name itself) laid out the basis for two Elvish languages to the point that they're both now usable. Marc Okrand is almost single-handedly responsible for the Klingon language, and only words he invented are considered officially part of the language. Yes, Star Trek nerds take their fake languages very seriously.

The language that our Ludwig Lazarus Zamenhof invented is Esperanto. You may have heard of it, but probably not. And unless you're an incredible information junkie like myself, you've probably never heard it, even if you've heard of it. Don't worry, I'll give you a chance to listen to it further down. But stay with me for a bit. Esperanto is, despite being almost entirely unknown, the most widely spoken artificial language ever created. Klingon may be more widely known of, but Esperanto has something Klingon doesn't: People with it as a first language. Not many, mind you, only about a thousand, but that's a hell of a lot more than any of the other artificial languages out there. And around 1million people can understand the language better than I can understand French, despite eight years of French classes and a French-Canadian grandfather.

It's a language that was designed to be universal, and there have been attempts to have it implemented as the official language of the United Nations (which have been ignored), and there's currently a bill in Brazil that would make Esperanto one of the optional languages taught in public schools (it's languishing in the Brazilian Chamber of Deputies). One of the strongest selling points for Esperanto in this regard is that it's remarkably easy to learn. While some people claim that you can learn it in days, they're largely regarded as crackpots or linguistic savants. Still, it's estimated that you can become passably skilled in Esperanto in about 1/4 the time it would take to learn another language similar to one you know already (English-German), and less than 1/20 the time it would take to learn a language with a different root than one you know (English-Japanese) because it has none of the eccentricities of a natural language.

Once you learn a pattern in Esperanto, it's very safe to assume that it's always true. In English in particular, a generalized pattern isn't always useful. Consider all the exceptions to 'i before e except after c'. Esperanto doesn't have giants lists of exceptions to simple rules, which makes it much, much, much easier to learn.

Alright, enough trying to sell you on the merits of Esperanto. Let's get to the listening! I present you the sixth part of the YouTube posting of the 1965 film, Incubus (subtitled).

Did you recognize that handsome young soldier? You're right! It's none other than William Alan Shatner (a remarkably un-epic name for such an epic man)! See how this all came back around to Star Trek? What is it with Shatner and made-up languages?

Incubus is, for the record, a pretty entertaining little movie, and might possibly be worth watching from the start if you're into b-movie horror and don't mind subtitles. Also, for the record, the film is largely ridiculed within the Esperanto community because of the terrible pronunciation. They say Shatner speaks Esperanto with a French accent.

There's only one other Esperanto film, and it's called Angoroj, which means "Agonies". It was even more poorly received than Incubus, and the director tried to destroy all the copies of it. He nearly succeeded, only three copies escaped his wrath. Strangely enough, Incubus was nearly lost to the ages as well. At one point it was thought that every copy had either been lost, destroyed or used to the point that they had worn out completely. It was only when the original master copy burned in a fire that people started looking for other copies. To date, only one early copy has been found, and every release of it since (including the one on YouTube) is a copy of that one.

William Shatner: Intimately connected to the two best known artificial languages on the planet.


Sources:
Esperanto.net
World Esperanto Association
Canadian Esperanto Association
FailureMag.com article on artificial languages
Wikipedia articles on Esperanto, Ludwig Lazarus Zamenhof, Incubus, Angoroj and William Shatner

31.12.10

Rheum-or Has It, They're Called Eye Boogers

It's New Year's Eve, and I have things to do, so I'm giving you a quick one today.


You know that crust that you get in your eyes when you wake up? Call it eye-crusties, sleep sand, sleepydust or eye boogers, you've experienced it at some point in your life, and probably still do. It's more common in children, but I know I still get it, and I hope I'm not some sort of freak in this regard (perfectly okay being a freak in many other regards though). The proper name for it is rheum, with gound being the name for it if it's coming from the eyes specifically. In case you're wondering where else you might find it, it can also form around the mouth, but more often around the nose.

Why? Because it's essentially snot. Alright, not entirely, but close enough that eye boogers is a perfectly accurate descriptor. It's made of mucous, skin cells, dust and sometimes blood cells. The reason you get it when you're asleep and not when you're awake is because your eyes produce significantly fewer tears while you're asleep, so it all just kind of builds up. When you're awake, your tears, coupled with blinking, wash it away. In case you're wondering, yes, your eyes do produce mucous, but it's highly diluted by your tears. Your mouth also produces mucous, but in that instance it's diluted by your saliva.

Sleepydust: A much more marketable name than eye boogers.


Sources:
Comic taken from Cyanide & Happiness
Wikipedia articles on rheum, mucus and mucin.

30.12.10

Fiddle-dee-dee. Fire, Fire, Fire, This Fire Talk's Spoiling All The Fun

Remember when we discussed Vulcanalia and Mt. Vesuvius? I mentioned the great fire of Rome in 64 C.E.?  And I said how it was gossip that Emperor Nero fiddled while Rome burned?  Well, let's take a deeper look at that today, shall we?

The rumour, even at the time it happened, was that Nero was responsible for Rome burning, and that he did nothing to stop it.  According to people at the time, he set the fire to clear room for a new palace, and he sang parts of "The Sack Of Ilium" (a Roman epic poem, part of the Trojan cycle), dressed in stage costume, while he let the city burn.  Later on, the rumor morphed into Nero playing the fiddle while he watched the city burn.

"We don't need no water, let the motherf*@#er burn!"
Much like the awesomeness of the story of Vesuvius erupting the day after Vulcanalia, this story is ruined by a few dull and boring facts.

The first being that fiddles didn't exist in Nero's day.  Nothing that could even vaguely be called a fiddle existed for over 800years after Nero died.  As far as stringed instruments go, they had harps, lyres and something called the cithara (from which the word guitar is derived).  They all look pretty much the same to me, but then again, I think a ukulele is just a tiny (awesome) guitar, so I'm probably not the best judge here.  The point is, no fiddles.  Which isn't to say that he didn't play the lyre (or cithara or harp) while he watched Rome burn to cinders, since he did fancy himself to be quite the musician.  Maybe he even played along while he sang The Sack Of Ilium.

Except that's not true either.  According to the only historian who was alive at the time and felt that the burning of the world's largest city was worth more than passing mention, Nero wasn't in Rome at the time.  Tacitus said, "Nero at this time was at Antium, and did not return to Rome until the fire approached his house..."  Alright, so maybe he wasn't singing epic poetry while he watched his capital burn to the ground, but he wasn't exactly doing a lot to stop it personally.  So maybe there's some truth to the rumour that he burned down Rome to make room for a new palace.

Except there isn't.  Or if there is, Nero was even more messed up than anyone's given him credit for, and he's pretty much known for being tyrannical, excessive and kind of crazy.  I mean, according to the various historians of the time, he poisoned his stepbrother, tried to kill his mother by poisoning (three times, she survived all three) and then by building her a self-sinking boat (she survived the sinking) before finally just hiring assassins to stab her and try and make it look like a suicide.  Since all the historians seem to know about the assassins, I don't think they managed to make it look like a suicide.

But back to the fire... If he did burn Rome to make room for a new palace, he did it in a totally ridiculous way.  Why?  Because the new palace he built was situated 1km away from the suspected starting point of the fire.  It wasn't built yet, but the Colosseum (technically the Flavium Amphitheatre) currently stands about halfway between where the fire started (Palatine Hill) and where Nero's new palace went up (Domus Aurea).  If you're going to use arson to clear space for a new palace, wouldn't you start the fire where you want to build the new palace in case people get the fire under control quickly?  Not quite a ways away?  Check out how far apart the hill the fire started on and the location of the new palace are:
Click to embiggen, clicky-poppy.
So, Nero didn't start the fire (or have it set for him) to make room for a palace.  He didn't watch the city burn.  He didn't play the fiddle.  Where the hell did this whole, "Nero fiddled while Rome burned" thing get started anyway?  Well, there's the previously mentioned rumours, and as I'm sure you know, rumours can be hard to kill even when they're false.  Then there's the very real possibility that it's all based on the fact that the word fiddle is a homonym.

There's fiddle the noun and associated verb, meaning a violin-like instrument and the playing of said instrument, and then there's fiddle the unassociated verb, meaning to waste time.  There's a couple other homonyms, but they're not important to the topic at hand, so we'll ignore them for today.  So, while Nero didn't "play a violin-like instrument while Rome burned," he did "waste time while Rome burned."  Remember, he wasn't even in the city at the time and didn't come back until he got word that his own home was in danger of being incinerated (it was, despite his return).  His initial response was hardly the bold leadership one would hope for from someone who found out his city was in flames.  He basically fiddled around in his vacation home for a couple of days.  There's no way to prove that this is what was originally meant by "Nero fiddled while Rome burned," since it's hard to track down origins even for certain modern phrases, but I strongly suspect that it's a major part of it.

Likely it's a combination of the original rumours of Nero playing music while the city burned and the truth that he fiddled around instead of doing something right away (anyone else picturing George W Bush and The Pet Goat?), but we'll never know for certain.

Nero: Crazy emperor, musician, but not a city-burning crazy emperor musician.


Sources:
Nero watching Rome burn image taken from RebuildTheUS blog - what is it with US political blogs having great images of Rome burning?
Annals, Book XV by Tacitus
The Classical Journal Vol 42, No. 4, reproduced on the University of Chicago website
The Church of God Daily Bible Study
Squidoo.com
Dictionary.com entry for fiddle
Wikipedia articles on the Great Fire of Rome, Nero and Nero's mom

29.12.10

It Wasn't The Lizards That Were Terrible

Dinosaur. It's a great word that most of us don't even think about anymore, unless we're going to a museum or something. Most of us probably know that it means 'terrible lizard,' and some of you may even know that the word is Greek in origin, insofar as it's made up of two Greek words, not that it was a word made by a Greek. So who did come up with the word dinosaur? This guy:
Either a scientist or a sorcerer.
Possibly both.
His name is/was Richard Owen, more specifically Sir Richard Owen, Knight Commander of the Most Honourable Order of Bath.  Maybe he was a sorcerer, or at least a seriously hardcore LARPer...  Anyway, he was definitely a scientist, focusing on biology, comparative anatomy and palaeontology.  He was a contemporary of Charles Darwin (who was not a knight, and probably not a sorcerer), who quite famously feuded with Darwin about evolution.  What his personal views were on evolution, nobody's entirely sure.  Owen may not have been sure himself.  It's said that, later in life, he said the following things about Darwin's theory of evolution:
  • that it's wrong
  • that he'd never heard of it (he was, in fact, given a copy by Darwin himself during the first printing)
  • that he came up with the theory a decade before Darwin did
Basically, he was a dick about the whole evolution thing, particularly since he and Darwin were acquaintances from their younger days as students.  Some people say it was because Darwin's name had become famous, while his own, despite being one of the most important scientists in England (he was the superintendent of natural history at the British Museum), was pretty much unknown to anyone outside the scientific world.

Not that his name and reputation were spotless within the scientific world either.  He also had a fairly long running feud with one Gideon Algernon Mantell (what a brilliant name!), who was also a palaeontologist.  Mantell's probably best known for figuring out how the wonky skeleton of the iguanodon fit together, and this is also the source of the disagreement between Owen and himself.  Owen based a lot of his iguanodon ideas on Mantell's, while opening calling Mantell's ideas incompetent.  Also, Mantell was the first one to make major use of the suffix -saurus (he originally called iguanodon iguana-saurus), before Owen came up with the term dinosaur I should point out, and Owen pretty much just swooped in and stole the -saurus thing and threw dino- in front of it to classify the entire group.  Without ever crediting Mantell.

It almost seems as if he made a career out of dick moves, but... There is no but.  Alright, he was the one who is responsible for the Natural History Museum (of London), since he argued that to properly cover the field it needed more space than was available in the British Museum, but the dude was a total dick.  How big a dick was he?  Well, Mantell suffered from scoliosis, a deformation of the spine, and when he died (opium overdose, FYI) Owen had Mantell's spine removed and put on display in the Royal College of Surgeons.  Labeled "the severest degree of deformity."  Seriously.  It stayed there for over 100 years with that same dick label before, due to space issues, it was removed and destroyed.

Now, I'm not going to say that Owen was such a dick that he inspired the character of Ebenezer Scrooge. That would be ridiculous, since A Christmas Carol was published when Owen was only in his 40s, but... maybe Owen modeled himself after a pre-ghosts version of Scrooge...
Lost the staff made of moa bones,
but the floppy wizard cap makes up for it.
Sir Richard Owen: Knight Commander of the Most Horrible Order of Dick-Move Scientists.


Sources:
Young Richard Owen picture taken from NZBirds.com
Old Richard Owen picture taken from NNDB.com
StrangeScience.com
UCMP Berkeley
NNDB.com
Wikipedia articles on Richard Owen and Gideon Mantell

28.12.10

Are You Ready For Some Football?! ...On A Tuesday...?

Thanks to a blizzard dumping about a foot of snow onto Philadelphia on Sunday, there's an NFL game on tonight. Tonight being a Tuesday. Can any of you remember a Tuesday NFL game? Liar, you weren't even born the last time it happened.

The last time it happened was in 1946, back before anyone I know that reads this blog was even a twinkle in their parents' eyes. Back when the New York Giants had to specify that they were the New York Football Giants.  Back in the day when this was considered football pads.

Those are football pads?
It looks like they're outfitted for a game of soccer.

The game was between the New York Football Giants and the Boston Yanks (so named because the owner wanted them to play in Yankee Stadium, a minor problem for a Boston team), which was originally delayed due to incredibly heavy rains. The Giants ended up trouncing the Yanks, which seems to have been fairly typical for the Yanks, looking at their stats.

The announcement was made at the Boston Yanks Marching & Chowder Club. What exactly a Marching & Chowder Club is, I'm not really sure. Early references to it are pretty random, with one being a group of guys that got together to enjoy chowder and then walk around the building playing marching songs, while others are groups of like-minded businessmen, and others are simply charitable groups. What they did at the Boston Yanks Marching & Chowder Club, I'm not exactly sure, but since it's Boston I'm willing to bet that chowder was actually a major part of it.

So turn on the idiot box tonight and watch some football, it's only the 23rd time since the NFL was founded that there's a game on a Tuesday. Sure, it's no Winter Solstice Lunar Eclipse, but it's still a rarity worth stopping to take a look at.

If you like football, that is.


Minor edits to deal with the fact that the original image used didn't allow hotlinking.  Those bastards, protecting their intellectual property!
Sources:
Classic football players image from ilovemylife blog
Google Answers article on the etymology of Marching & Chowder Clubs
Recorded oral history of Shaw Livermore - mentions the function of the Buffalo Marching & Chowder Club
Wikipedia article on the Boston Yanks
Articles about today's game:

27.12.10

1 Down, Close On 2 More, Only A Few Dozen Thousand To Go

What do Pharaoh Ramses V of Egypt, Queen Mary II of England, Emperor Joseph I of Austria, King Luis I of Spain, Tsar Peter II of Russia, King Louis XV of France and Queen Ulrika Elenora of Sweden all have in common? Other than the obvious of being royalty, they were all killed by the only disease man has successfully eradicated from the natural world: Smallpox.

We should be glad that they managed to eradicate smallpox, because they never figured out how to cure the disease, or even manage it so that it was less lethal. And it was lethal, there were four strains, the one was so dangerous that they're not sure anyone ever survived it. All said around 30% of the people that got smallpox died, and that's taking into account a rare form which only killed about 1% of the people that caught it.

And of those that survived smallpox, over 60% had severe scarring, usually on the face, and about 30% were blinded. Scarred survivors included Queen Margaret of Scotland, Anne of Cleves, Mary I of England, Elizabeth I of England and Joseph Stalin.

But please, don't think this was a disease of the rich. During the the late 1700s it was killing 400,000 people a year in Europe alone, and from 1900 to its final deaths in 1978 it is thought to have killed up to a half billion people. Even into the 1960s it was still killing millions of people a year. To put that in perspective, the Black Death (aka bubonic plague) killed, in its entire recorded history, around two-hundred million people.  That's about half of what smallpox killed in the last 78 years that we were actively wiping it out.

Alas, in the 200+ years since Edward Jenner figured out the concept of vaccination, we've still only managed to eliminate that single disease, but we're getting close to adding two more to the list. One affects cattle (it's called rinderpest, which is German for cattle-plague) and is just waiting for a full year to go by without a suspected case to be declared officially eradicated, and they're hoping that 2010 will turn out to have been that year. The other is called the guinea worm, and it's a parasite that's species-specific to humans that vaccination can't help against. But it's almost gone too. All thanks to one of the least popular Presidents in United States history.

Jimmy freakin' Carter.

He is, for the record, not history's greatest monster despite what the Simpsons says. He's one hell of a man who's done boatloads of good for humanity. He was just a terrible president. Who at one point was attacked by a rabbit. Alright, so his legacy is a bit checkered, but the fact remains that it's largely due to him, his wife, and the Carter Center they formed, that we're almost rid of the guinea worm. Which is, arguably, history's greatest nonlethal monster.

The formal name for being infected, Dracunculiasis, means 'infected by tiny dragons' because of the extreme pain they cause. There's proof of it infecting Ancient Egyptians, there's records of it from 2c B.C.E. Greek documents, and some people think that the symbol of medicine, the rod of Asclepius (not to be mistaken for the Caduceus, which is a symbol of commerce and is only loosely connected to medicine through it's alchemical background), is a representation of the traditional method of removing guinea worms: Winding them around a stick to pull them out of the infected person. An agonizing process that can take almost a month to finish.

On the left, a symbol of alchemy.
On the right, a symbol of medicine.
Now you know more than 75% of American commercial medical associations.
The pain that the guinea worm causes is crippling, which its colloquial names, fire serpents and dragon worms, should make obvious.  The pain can last for months without treatment, which makes the increased agony of pulling it out worth it, just so that it's over more quickly.  I'd post a video, but they're incredibly disgusting and heartbreaking, since they seem to choose only cute children having them removed to film.

The good news is that since 1987 the Carter Center has been working to eliminate the guinea worm, and they've managed to do it in 16 countries. In the 1950s there were an estimated 50million people infected. By the time the Carter Center started doing its work, an estimated 3.5million people a year were becoming infected, largely due to better sanitation in the countries that it's endemic to. In 2010 there are (to date) less than 1,700 cases in only four countries: Sudan, Ghana, Ethiopia and Mali.  Under 100 of those were outside of Sudan.  Carter, who's 86 years old, intends to live to see the guinea worm totally eradicated, and it looks like he may be able to do it, since the number of incidents dropped 45% between 2009 and 2010.

The guinea worm: One of humanity's earliest parasites, hopefully just the first of many to be eradicated.


Sources:
Image of the Caduceus and the Rod of Asclepius taken from TotalPetMagazine.com
World Health Organization factsheet on smallpox
Centers for Disease Control smallpox pages
U.S. National Library of Medicine smallpox page
Mayo Clinic smallpox page
Associated Press article on the Carter Center fight against the guinea worm
Carter Center site on the guinea worm
Latest Carter Center report on the guinea worm (PDF)
Wikipedia pages on smallpox, the Black Plague, historic pandemics, Jimmy Carter and the guinea worm.

26.12.10

Bo Doesn't Know Championship Games

If you're of a certain generation, you're well acquainted with the phrase, "Bo knows..." usually followed with a sport. It was part of a Nike advertising campaign that used Bo Jackson, a man who played in both the MLB and the NFL, as the spokesperson. It showed him playing a variety of sports, with major athletes of that sport saying, "Bo knows (the sport)." The exception was hockey, where Wayne Gretzky just says, "No." It ends with Bo Jackson playing the guitar, terribly, and then it cuts to Bo Diddley (the famous rock and blues guitarist) saying, well, watch it for yourself.
It's a pretty brilliant ad, and it's timing was perfect.  The first time it aired was in a commercial break that happened during the 1989 MLB All-Star Game, right after Bo Jackson got a home run.  Basically, it was a huge win for Nike.

The thing is, despite winning a ton of awards both as a baseball player and as a football player, Bo Jackson never won a title.  Which isn't to say he wasn't one of the most versatile athletes that ever lived, but... well... Bo don't know championships.

To find another athlete as versatile we have to go far, far into the future from Bo before we find... wait, Deion Sanders?  Wasn't he playing the same time Bo was?  Bo played baseball from '86 to '94 and Sanders played from '89 to '01.  Bo played football from '87 to '90, Sanders from '90 to '05.  Huh, looks like we don't have to go too far into the future after all.

Not just that, but Sanders did better.  Or at least, his teams did.

Jackson only made one foray into the post-season of baseball, and they were defeated by the Blue Jays, keeping them out of the World Series (1993).  Sanders made it to the World Series twice, but never won.  The first time (1991) he didn't get to play in the series because it conflicted with his NFL contracts (he renegotiated those parts after that), and the second time (1992) he made it to the World Series again, but ended up losing the series in game 6 (to the Blue Jays, strangely enough).

The closest Jackson came to the Superbowl was in his final year, when the Raiders lost the AFC championship (to the Bills), whereas Sanders actually won the thing twice.  In a row.  Once with the 49s in the '94 season and once with the Cowboys in '95.

So what, they're both great athletes that are, to this day, still super-impressive.  What's the big deal?

Well, originally I wanted to make a post about how Sanders was the only person to ever play top-tier football and baseball, but that quickly came undone in the researching of it.  Plus, those "Bo Knows" ads kept coming back to haunt me.  So what's the fun fact then?

Deion Sanders is the only man alive who has earned both a World Series ring and a Superbowl ring (two of them).


That's a lot of tacky jewelry for one man.


Sources:
World Series ring image taken from StadiumPage.com
Super Bowl ring images taken from SportsPool.com
Wikipedia articles on Bo Jackson, the Nike Bo Knows ads and Deion Sanders

23.12.10

"The Knowledge"

How ominous is that?  It sounds like the name for some long forgotten mystical secret, something written in an ancient tome that Indian Jones would be racing to find before the Nazis got their hands on it.  Perhaps the name given to a basic understanding of magic, or functional alchemy.  It could be anything, but it sounds really, REALLY important.

So what is it?  It's the name of the test one needs to pass to become a driver of a London Black Cab.  You know what I mean, even if you don't.  They're the cabs you think of when you think of a London cab.
Right-o guv'na.
Don't for an instant think that "the Knowledge" (full name, the Knowledge of London Examination System) is your standard driving test.  The requirements for taking the Knowledge are the following:
  • Over 21
  • "Good character" - a perfectly clean criminal record isn't necessary, but they do a criminal record check and certain crimes will automatically disqualify you
  • "Fitness" - you cannot be epileptic, insulin dependent, have poor vision, monocular vision, a history of drug or alcohol abuse, any physical disability that would impair your driving ability or your ability to assist a disabled passenger, heart problems (heart attack or have had heart surgery), a neurological / neurosurgical disorder (blackouts, a stroke, severe head trauma).  In addition certain progressive illnesses or being on certain prescriptions will also disqualify you
  • A valid driver's license
  • You must be a British citizen or an EEC national, or have "Indefinite Stay" passport privileges
If you qualify for those, only then are you allowed to take the Knowledge.

So what is the Knowledge exactly?  It's a test of your knowledge of London.  You have to be able to navigate an area with a radius of 6miles from Charing Cross.  That's roughly 180km² of tiny, twisting roadways.  And you have to be able to do it by memory.  Without maps or GPS or the help of a dispatcher.  You have to know not only the streets, but what's on them.  A London Black Cab driver should be able to pick you up at the Chelsea Library and drop you off at the Lord Nelson restaurant without ever taking their eyes off the road.  Using the shortest possible route.  And they're tested on it.

Actual places they could be asked to find during their test: Toto's Restaurant, the Harbour Club, the Sri Lankan High Commission, Kings Fund (I don't even know what that is).  That's all the information they'd be given during the test.  And then they'd have to get there via the shortest route possible, without a map.  Can't find it?  You fail.  Take a route that the tester doesn't like?  You fail.  Most people trying to become a proper London cabbie take the Knowledge twelve times before they pass, and on average it takes three years of study before they pass.  Yeah, it all sounds tough on paper, but here's the area they have to have memorized, down to the restaurants, before they can pass:
Click to embiggen, click-poppy.
Click here for a zoom-able version
Seriously, you think your studies are hard?  Try to memorize the location of every restaurant on that map.  And keep your mental map accurate when they close and something opens where they used to be.  I think it might actually be easier to become a doctor than to pass that test.

Your average London cabbie: Way smarter than you'd ever guess.


Sources:
Black cab image taken from Copyright-free-photos.org.uk
London Taxi News blog
TaxiKnowledge.co.uk
A-ZMaps.co.uk's section for the Knowledge preparation maps
Wikipedia article on Taxicabs of the United Kingdom

20.12.10

The Face Of An Angel, The Voice Of A Slurring Drunk

Let's pretend for a second that you're a famous Norwegian  sculptor who has been asked to help rebuild one of the most famous Gothic churches in your country. You have been commissioned to design the sculpture for the Archangel Michael who will stand atop the Northwest Tower.  You have it fully designed and it's pretty incredible, but you're left with trying to decide on a face for your archangel.  Do you make one up?  Do you follow the ancient tradition of using a living person as inspiration (Michelangelo is known to have used the faces of his critics as inspiration for his paintings, often depicting them being dragged into Hell)?

Well, if you were Kristofer Leirdal, a Norwegian sculptor who was asked to help rebuild the Nidaros Cathedral in Trondheim, Noway, you decide to follow the classical inspiration and give it the face of someone fitting.  The Archangel Michael is often used as an image for the triumph of good over evil, so Kristofer picked someone that he saw as an embodiment of peace and goodness.  Who better to represent that than a modern poet who spoke out against war and in favour of civil rights?  In this particular instance, the Vietnam War.  The poet in question?  Bob Dylan.  Musician, poet, civil rights activist and war protester.

Peace-loving, but angrily so.

Of course, Kristofer didn't make the inspiration for his Michael known for quite a while, but he made it known earlier in the decade and it's now a well-known fact amongst the hardcore fans of Bob Dylan, as well as the hardcore fans of Norwegian cathedral sculptures.

And now by you too.


Sources:
Image of Bob Dylan circa 1969 taken from UKRockFestivals.com Isle Of Wight 1969 Bob Dylan concert page
Image of the Trondheim archangel Michael taken from Urmeant2b's Flickr photostream
Images cropped and put together by me
Svenska Dagbladet article about Trondheim - Google does a reasonable job translating it
Trondheim tourist information website, Nidaros Cathedral page - English option available
Nidaros Catherdral website - no English option available, Google does a terrible job
MonstersAndCritics.com article on Trondheim
Wikipedia page on Kristofer Leirdal
Wikipedia articles on Nidaros Cathedral and its West Front