Curio Cabinet / Daily Curio
-
FREEPlay Daily CurioFree1 CQ
It's Flashback Friday! Enjoy this favorite from the Curio Cabinet archives.
Normally an icy runway is a very bad thing. Unless ice is the runway. That's the case in Alton Bay, New Hampshire. For a few months each winter, they turn their frozen Lake Winnipesaukee into an airstrip. It's the United State’s only all-ice runway. Far from scaring pilots away, amateur pilots from across the country fly in to give it a try! The runway is created by local volunteers, who plow snow from the lake almost constantly once the ice is deemed strong enough by the FAA. When the weather is nicer, Alton Bay is used for landing seaplanes. The bay typically lands about 50 seaplanes in warmer months, but in the 22 days the ice runway operated this winter, 366 planes landed. The freshly plowed ice provides a surprising amount of traction because of the snow on the ice. Still it takes pilot skill, as evidenced by the attached video of a plane struggling to land on Alton's strip. Click below to see that and a great photo of the runway in operation.
Below: Alton Bay Ice Runway on one of the few days each year it is in operation.
It's Flashback Friday! Enjoy this favorite from the Curio Cabinet archives.
Normally an icy runway is a very bad thing. Unless ice is the runway. That's the case in Alton Bay, New Hampshire. For a few months each winter, they turn their frozen Lake Winnipesaukee into an airstrip. It's the United State’s only all-ice runway. Far from scaring pilots away, amateur pilots from across the country fly in to give it a try! The runway is created by local volunteers, who plow snow from the lake almost constantly once the ice is deemed strong enough by the FAA. When the weather is nicer, Alton Bay is used for landing seaplanes. The bay typically lands about 50 seaplanes in warmer months, but in the 22 days the ice runway operated this winter, 366 planes landed. The freshly plowed ice provides a surprising amount of traction because of the snow on the ice. Still it takes pilot skill, as evidenced by the attached video of a plane struggling to land on Alton's strip. Click below to see that and a great photo of the runway in operation.
Below: Alton Bay Ice Runway on one of the few days each year it is in operation.
-
FREEHumanities Daily Curio #1953Free1 CQ
Sometimes, royalty is not all it's cracked up to be. Last month, a journalist named Ellen Barry debunked a claim to an Indian throne by Ali Raza, or Cyrus, the supposed heir to the Nawab of Oudh. Cyrus' bizarre story begins with his mother, Begum Wilayat. She was a strong-willed woman who lost her sanity after the partition of India and Pakistan in 1947, her subsequent escape to Pakistan, and the later the loss of her husband. Begum missed India. So much so that the widow started believing she was royalty. She ended up slapping the Prime Minister of Pakistan and got herself locked in a mental hospital for six months. When she was released, she smuggled her young son and daughter into India, where she camped in the First Class Waiting Room of the Delhi railway station. Among her were a retinue of servants, beautiful Persian artifacts, and a dozen ferocious dogs. She squatted there for nearly a decade, decrying British colonialism and the deceit of the Indian government, while also demanding her royalty be reinstated.
Eventually, the frustrated Indian government bequeathed her the Malcha Mahal palace in 1985. This "palace" was no more than a run-down hunting lodge from the 14-century, built in a dense jungle. There, among jackals and spiders, the family lived in seclusion. Begum's two children, newly known as Prince Cyrus and Princess Sakina (shown above), addressed her only as "Her Royal Highness." They were such snobs, they refused to associate with their "commoner" neighbors. Then, in 1997, Begam allegedly crushed diamonds and pearls into a liquid poison and drank it: a final protest against Britain and India's treachery. After her death, Cyrus and Sakina lived alone. The servants abandoned them. Then Sakina died, and Cyrus buried her himself. All that remained was Cyrus, who lived as a conceited hermit in the jungle, convinced of his superiority. He died of a fever fairly recently—nobody knows exactly when—and journalists tracked some of his letters to an address in Bradford, England. It turns out Begum had a third and eldest son there, named Shahid, who escaped his mother's epic fantasy. He spent his life working in England to finance his family's shenanigans. Shahid lived a happy life and died holding his wife's hand. Meanwhile, Cyrus and Sakina were spared the soul-crushing reality of their fake lineage—a 40-year lie turned Indian legend. Sakina once said, "Ordinariness is not just a crime, it is a sin." If there's anything I've taken away from this strange tale, it's that ordinariness can be a real blessing!
Image credit & copyright: Barry Bearak/NYT
Sometimes, royalty is not all it's cracked up to be. Last month, a journalist named Ellen Barry debunked a claim to an Indian throne by Ali Raza, or Cyrus, the supposed heir to the Nawab of Oudh. Cyrus' bizarre story begins with his mother, Begum Wilayat. She was a strong-willed woman who lost her sanity after the partition of India and Pakistan in 1947, her subsequent escape to Pakistan, and the later the loss of her husband. Begum missed India. So much so that the widow started believing she was royalty. She ended up slapping the Prime Minister of Pakistan and got herself locked in a mental hospital for six months. When she was released, she smuggled her young son and daughter into India, where she camped in the First Class Waiting Room of the Delhi railway station. Among her were a retinue of servants, beautiful Persian artifacts, and a dozen ferocious dogs. She squatted there for nearly a decade, decrying British colonialism and the deceit of the Indian government, while also demanding her royalty be reinstated.
Eventually, the frustrated Indian government bequeathed her the Malcha Mahal palace in 1985. This "palace" was no more than a run-down hunting lodge from the 14-century, built in a dense jungle. There, among jackals and spiders, the family lived in seclusion. Begum's two children, newly known as Prince Cyrus and Princess Sakina (shown above), addressed her only as "Her Royal Highness." They were such snobs, they refused to associate with their "commoner" neighbors. Then, in 1997, Begam allegedly crushed diamonds and pearls into a liquid poison and drank it: a final protest against Britain and India's treachery. After her death, Cyrus and Sakina lived alone. The servants abandoned them. Then Sakina died, and Cyrus buried her himself. All that remained was Cyrus, who lived as a conceited hermit in the jungle, convinced of his superiority. He died of a fever fairly recently—nobody knows exactly when—and journalists tracked some of his letters to an address in Bradford, England. It turns out Begum had a third and eldest son there, named Shahid, who escaped his mother's epic fantasy. He spent his life working in England to finance his family's shenanigans. Shahid lived a happy life and died holding his wife's hand. Meanwhile, Cyrus and Sakina were spared the soul-crushing reality of their fake lineage—a 40-year lie turned Indian legend. Sakina once said, "Ordinariness is not just a crime, it is a sin." If there's anything I've taken away from this strange tale, it's that ordinariness can be a real blessing!
Image credit & copyright: Barry Bearak/NYT
-
FREEMusic Daily Curio #1952Free1 CQ
Scientists just found a new way to help Earth's vanishing coral reefs: music. That's the major takeaway from a recent study published in the journal Nature Communications. A team of British and Australian scientists came to the conclusion after arraying loudspeakers around artificial reefs. To be precise, each new reef consisted of dead coral rubble and was set up adjacent to the battered Great Barrier Reef, near Australia. The researchers then positioned underwater loudspeakers around the patches of dead coral and continuously played "acoustic enrichment," or the sounds of a healthy reef, for local wildlife that help maintain ecologies. This sort of music sounds like radio static or sizzling bacon to us. But to marine life, it reverberates with the snaps of crustaceans clicking their claws and fish grunting, humming, and whooping. (Yes, fish apparently "whoop.") The presumption was that this cacophony would draw neighboring animals to the dead coral, to inhabit it. And it worked. At 33 locations, the team played the music for 40 happening nights. Meanwhile, 22 other locations sported silent dummy speakers. As if summoned to a pool party, all stripes of wildlife across the food chain inundated the dead corals that had music, ballooning local species diversity by 50 percent. The 22 silent locations remained unsurprisingly vacant. Marine biologists are already scrambling to isolate the most attractive acoustics, in hopes of reproducing the effect worldwide. That being said, the factors that cause reef degradation—warming oceans, fish blasting, and unmitigated boat traffic—remain dire threats. Saving Earth's coastal habitats will still require us to change. Still, it puts a smile on my face to know both fish and humans can't resist a good tune!
Image credit & copyright: McPhoto/Nilsen/Alamy
Scientists just found a new way to help Earth's vanishing coral reefs: music. That's the major takeaway from a recent study published in the journal Nature Communications. A team of British and Australian scientists came to the conclusion after arraying loudspeakers around artificial reefs. To be precise, each new reef consisted of dead coral rubble and was set up adjacent to the battered Great Barrier Reef, near Australia. The researchers then positioned underwater loudspeakers around the patches of dead coral and continuously played "acoustic enrichment," or the sounds of a healthy reef, for local wildlife that help maintain ecologies. This sort of music sounds like radio static or sizzling bacon to us. But to marine life, it reverberates with the snaps of crustaceans clicking their claws and fish grunting, humming, and whooping. (Yes, fish apparently "whoop.") The presumption was that this cacophony would draw neighboring animals to the dead coral, to inhabit it. And it worked. At 33 locations, the team played the music for 40 happening nights. Meanwhile, 22 other locations sported silent dummy speakers. As if summoned to a pool party, all stripes of wildlife across the food chain inundated the dead corals that had music, ballooning local species diversity by 50 percent. The 22 silent locations remained unsurprisingly vacant. Marine biologists are already scrambling to isolate the most attractive acoustics, in hopes of reproducing the effect worldwide. That being said, the factors that cause reef degradation—warming oceans, fish blasting, and unmitigated boat traffic—remain dire threats. Saving Earth's coastal habitats will still require us to change. Still, it puts a smile on my face to know both fish and humans can't resist a good tune!
Image credit & copyright: McPhoto/Nilsen/Alamy
-
FREEMind + Body Daily Curio #1951Free1 CQ
Texting and driving just got even riskier in New South Wales, Australia. That's because the southeastern state recently unveiled a new system of A.I. cameras to catch cell phone-using drivers. It's the world's first-ever mobile phone detection camera system. It continuously takes photos of motorists. Two cameras lurk at a single location—one aimed at the driver's ear, the other at their lap. An algorithm then flags a photo if it detects a phone. Each flagged photo is then sent off for verification by human eyes. Australian drivers are being given a three-month grace period. After that, a first violation carries a fine of $235 (or over $300 in school zones). Drivers licenses get demerited as well. Also, these new cameras come with a presumption of guilt. Meaning drivers must prove themselves innocent in court if they are flagged, or else suffer automatic fines. It may seem austere, considering so many of us are guilty of firing off missives from behind the wheel. Cynics worry the cameras are more so a ploy to wring out revenue from communities than a method of public safety. But it's worth noting that texting and driving annually causes 1.6 million accidents in the U.S. alone, according to the National Safety Council. In other words, one in four road accidents. And in Australia, over 300 people have died from the act so far in 2019. The hope is that steep fines will seriously curb cell phone use among drivers. Regardless of your thoughts on the new camera system, it will face challenges. Legal ones. It's estimated that Australian courts could easily be inundated with over 70,000 court challenges in its first year of operation. That's because New South Wales plans to conduct 135 million camera searches by 2023. If the system reduces traffic fatalities, we may see it rolled out worldwide. Let's just hope it exempts Google Maps usage. Anybody out there remember how to use a road atlas?
Image credit & copyright: ARAG Legal
Texting and driving just got even riskier in New South Wales, Australia. That's because the southeastern state recently unveiled a new system of A.I. cameras to catch cell phone-using drivers. It's the world's first-ever mobile phone detection camera system. It continuously takes photos of motorists. Two cameras lurk at a single location—one aimed at the driver's ear, the other at their lap. An algorithm then flags a photo if it detects a phone. Each flagged photo is then sent off for verification by human eyes. Australian drivers are being given a three-month grace period. After that, a first violation carries a fine of $235 (or over $300 in school zones). Drivers licenses get demerited as well. Also, these new cameras come with a presumption of guilt. Meaning drivers must prove themselves innocent in court if they are flagged, or else suffer automatic fines. It may seem austere, considering so many of us are guilty of firing off missives from behind the wheel. Cynics worry the cameras are more so a ploy to wring out revenue from communities than a method of public safety. But it's worth noting that texting and driving annually causes 1.6 million accidents in the U.S. alone, according to the National Safety Council. In other words, one in four road accidents. And in Australia, over 300 people have died from the act so far in 2019. The hope is that steep fines will seriously curb cell phone use among drivers. Regardless of your thoughts on the new camera system, it will face challenges. Legal ones. It's estimated that Australian courts could easily be inundated with over 70,000 court challenges in its first year of operation. That's because New South Wales plans to conduct 135 million camera searches by 2023. If the system reduces traffic fatalities, we may see it rolled out worldwide. Let's just hope it exempts Google Maps usage. Anybody out there remember how to use a road atlas?
Image credit & copyright: ARAG Legal
-
FREEPhysics Daily Curio #1950Free1 CQ
Make like a bee and surf off. Confused? So are scientists who recently witnessed something hard to bee-lieve. Their study, published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, witnessed bees take to the water. In particular, the buzzing insects used water surface locomotion, or "surfing," to safely reach land after falling into pools. They had just minutes to execute the maneuver, to avoid drowning. The oddest part is their seemingly-counterintuitive technique: the bees actually embrace their wetted wings. They use the sopping limbs as hydrofoils, generating waves to propel themselves ashore. This behavior has never been documented before. It wasn't until the co-author of the experiment, engineer Chris Roh, was strolling Caltech's campus that the mystery began to unfold. Roh witnessed a bee wipeout in a pool and beat its wings to swim. Stoked by the bee's radical recovery, Roh snatched it up as a test subject alongside 32 other specimens. Roh and others then used slow-motion cameras to observe the bees use their wingbeats to create asymmetrical wave patterns that produce a propulsive roller behind them (video below). The crazy thing is that only the bottoms of their wings stick to the water. It's an efficient method, but bees can only manage it for about five minutes. Once they've beached, it also takes them a short while to dry themselves off, gather their wits, and take flight. This revelation isn't the only takeaway from Roh's experiment; the physics of bee wings and their beats offer a perfect model for future multi-purpose hydro-aerial vehicles. Imagine this: you're on a passenger jet that needs to make an emergency landing. No worries—the plane can land on water and beat its wings safely to shore!
Below: footage of the bees using water surface locomotion.
Image credit & copyright: Caltech
Make like a bee and surf off. Confused? So are scientists who recently witnessed something hard to bee-lieve. Their study, published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, witnessed bees take to the water. In particular, the buzzing insects used water surface locomotion, or "surfing," to safely reach land after falling into pools. They had just minutes to execute the maneuver, to avoid drowning. The oddest part is their seemingly-counterintuitive technique: the bees actually embrace their wetted wings. They use the sopping limbs as hydrofoils, generating waves to propel themselves ashore. This behavior has never been documented before. It wasn't until the co-author of the experiment, engineer Chris Roh, was strolling Caltech's campus that the mystery began to unfold. Roh witnessed a bee wipeout in a pool and beat its wings to swim. Stoked by the bee's radical recovery, Roh snatched it up as a test subject alongside 32 other specimens. Roh and others then used slow-motion cameras to observe the bees use their wingbeats to create asymmetrical wave patterns that produce a propulsive roller behind them (video below). The crazy thing is that only the bottoms of their wings stick to the water. It's an efficient method, but bees can only manage it for about five minutes. Once they've beached, it also takes them a short while to dry themselves off, gather their wits, and take flight. This revelation isn't the only takeaway from Roh's experiment; the physics of bee wings and their beats offer a perfect model for future multi-purpose hydro-aerial vehicles. Imagine this: you're on a passenger jet that needs to make an emergency landing. No worries—the plane can land on water and beat its wings safely to shore!
Below: footage of the bees using water surface locomotion.
Image credit & copyright: Caltech
-
FREEMusic Daily CurioFree1 CQ
It's Flashback Friday! Enjoy this favorite from the Curio Cabinet archives.
Bad news if you frequent ear-splitting construction sites or rowdy rock shows. Waking up the next morning just got harder. A study out of McGill University has found caffeine impairs the recovery of noise-induced hearing loss. Researchers subjected helpless guinea pigs to repeated loud noises—euphemized as “acoustic overstimulation events”—while giving the animals high doses of caffeine. The guinea pigs eventually recovered their hearing, but much more slowly than a control group of guinea pigs subjected to the noise but not the caffeine. As we learned in Curio #1105, there are some pretty creative treatments out there for noise-induced hearing loss. Actually, most people suffering from this condition regain their hearing in a few days without treatment. But if it doesn’t clear up within 72 hours, it’s possible for the hearing loss to become permanent. So to be on the safe side, if you wake up with your ears ringing, skip your morning cup of joe. Or if you must preserve your caffeine fix, wear earplugs all the time!
It's Flashback Friday! Enjoy this favorite from the Curio Cabinet archives.
Bad news if you frequent ear-splitting construction sites or rowdy rock shows. Waking up the next morning just got harder. A study out of McGill University has found caffeine impairs the recovery of noise-induced hearing loss. Researchers subjected helpless guinea pigs to repeated loud noises—euphemized as “acoustic overstimulation events”—while giving the animals high doses of caffeine. The guinea pigs eventually recovered their hearing, but much more slowly than a control group of guinea pigs subjected to the noise but not the caffeine. As we learned in Curio #1105, there are some pretty creative treatments out there for noise-induced hearing loss. Actually, most people suffering from this condition regain their hearing in a few days without treatment. But if it doesn’t clear up within 72 hours, it’s possible for the hearing loss to become permanent. So to be on the safe side, if you wake up with your ears ringing, skip your morning cup of joe. Or if you must preserve your caffeine fix, wear earplugs all the time!
-
FREEUS History Daily Curio #1949Free1 CQ
When most people think of Thanksgiving, the Civil War doesn't come to mind. Yet that's when the modern version of the holiday sprang up, thanks to 19th-century writer and editor Sarah Josepha Hale. Born in New Hampshire in 1788, Hale was the reputed author of the nursery rhyme "Mary Had a Little Lamb." She was also regarded as the "Lady Editor" of a magazine named Godey's Lady's Book. It was akin to today's Good Housekeeping, and was by far the most popular periodical of its era under her aegis. Published stories included new recipes, fashion, and holiday trends. In Hale's own stories, she praised the exfoliating qualities of vinegar and asserted that pigeons were "about the only bird in New England worth cooking." (Now that last one sounds like 19th-century clickbait to me.) Hale also funded the newly founded Vassar College and crusaded for women to practice modern medicine and have more of a presence in the Civil War crisis.
Hale's interests in domesticity, pumpkin pies, and female empowerment coalesced in the 1840s, when she started writing letters to Congress. At the peak of her influence, Hale lobbied President Zachary Taylor to enact a holiday for gratitude and prayer sometime in the fall. Taylor refused, citing the same misgivings Thomas Jefferson had in 1789, when George Washington first proposed an official Thanksgiving: that it would violate the separation of church and state. But Hale remained undeterred. She continued inundating the White House with letters, but put less emphasis on the "prayer" aspect of Thanksgiving. Finally, in 1863—the middle of the Civil War—she found an ear: President Abraham Lincoln. He agreed that "in the midst of a civil war of unequalled magnitude and severity, the American people should take some time for gratitude." In a prompt public address, he proclaimed the last Thursday of November the official holiday of Thanksgiving. Leaders of the Confederacy responded by branding the new occasion a self-indulgent smörgåsbord for Yankees. Turns out Confederates got one thing right about Thanksgiving: the uncomfortable politics it brings to the dinner table. Happy Thanksgiving!
When most people think of Thanksgiving, the Civil War doesn't come to mind. Yet that's when the modern version of the holiday sprang up, thanks to 19th-century writer and editor Sarah Josepha Hale. Born in New Hampshire in 1788, Hale was the reputed author of the nursery rhyme "Mary Had a Little Lamb." She was also regarded as the "Lady Editor" of a magazine named Godey's Lady's Book. It was akin to today's Good Housekeeping, and was by far the most popular periodical of its era under her aegis. Published stories included new recipes, fashion, and holiday trends. In Hale's own stories, she praised the exfoliating qualities of vinegar and asserted that pigeons were "about the only bird in New England worth cooking." (Now that last one sounds like 19th-century clickbait to me.) Hale also funded the newly founded Vassar College and crusaded for women to practice modern medicine and have more of a presence in the Civil War crisis.
Hale's interests in domesticity, pumpkin pies, and female empowerment coalesced in the 1840s, when she started writing letters to Congress. At the peak of her influence, Hale lobbied President Zachary Taylor to enact a holiday for gratitude and prayer sometime in the fall. Taylor refused, citing the same misgivings Thomas Jefferson had in 1789, when George Washington first proposed an official Thanksgiving: that it would violate the separation of church and state. But Hale remained undeterred. She continued inundating the White House with letters, but put less emphasis on the "prayer" aspect of Thanksgiving. Finally, in 1863—the middle of the Civil War—she found an ear: President Abraham Lincoln. He agreed that "in the midst of a civil war of unequalled magnitude and severity, the American people should take some time for gratitude." In a prompt public address, he proclaimed the last Thursday of November the official holiday of Thanksgiving. Leaders of the Confederacy responded by branding the new occasion a self-indulgent smörgåsbord for Yankees. Turns out Confederates got one thing right about Thanksgiving: the uncomfortable politics it brings to the dinner table. Happy Thanksgiving!
-
FREEWorld History Daily Curio #1948Free1 CQ
In 1967, a couple of musical instrument specialists discovered a trove of English banknotes wedged inside a church organ in Merano, Italy. All told, they amounted to $6 million at the time. Later analysis by bankers connected the cash to Operation Bernhard, an over-the-top attempt by Nazi Germany to sabotage Britain's economy during World War II. Named after Nazi officer Bernhard Krüger, it was one of several such missions. Under Hitler's own megalomaniacal orders, Krüger and others enlisted Jewish prisoners at the Sachsenhausen concentration camps to produce over 100 million high-quality forged English pounds. Then, the German air force literally made it rain fake money on the inhabitants of Great Britain. The hope was that English citizens, plagued by bombings and austerity measures, would snatch up the cascading bills and hoard them. That way, after a period of time, Britain's economy would then inflate so much it would pop. Meanwhile, a money launderer named Friedrich Schewnd was tasked with exchanging fake bills for real Swiss francs and U.S. dollars throughout Europe. Luckily, one of the Nazis at the center of the operation was captured in 1944. He quickly spilled the beans on the whole thing. Britain began thoroughly vetting its cash as it updated its currency—the easiest way to avoid using one of the 134 million forged British pounds in its midst. The Nazis' mad-hatter plan had failed. As the war turned on Germany, the Nazis burned their mounds of counterfeits or sealed them in crates, to be dumped into lakes. Krüger eventually handed himself over to British authorities in November of 1946. To this day, nobody knows for sure how much of this Nazi funny money is wedged into nooks and crannies all about Europe. Like all of the führer's ambitions, Operation Bernhard proved as unhinged as it was ruthless in its execution. The irony of it all? Bernhard's once worthless £20 bills now fetch $600 at auctions.
In 1967, a couple of musical instrument specialists discovered a trove of English banknotes wedged inside a church organ in Merano, Italy. All told, they amounted to $6 million at the time. Later analysis by bankers connected the cash to Operation Bernhard, an over-the-top attempt by Nazi Germany to sabotage Britain's economy during World War II. Named after Nazi officer Bernhard Krüger, it was one of several such missions. Under Hitler's own megalomaniacal orders, Krüger and others enlisted Jewish prisoners at the Sachsenhausen concentration camps to produce over 100 million high-quality forged English pounds. Then, the German air force literally made it rain fake money on the inhabitants of Great Britain. The hope was that English citizens, plagued by bombings and austerity measures, would snatch up the cascading bills and hoard them. That way, after a period of time, Britain's economy would then inflate so much it would pop. Meanwhile, a money launderer named Friedrich Schewnd was tasked with exchanging fake bills for real Swiss francs and U.S. dollars throughout Europe. Luckily, one of the Nazis at the center of the operation was captured in 1944. He quickly spilled the beans on the whole thing. Britain began thoroughly vetting its cash as it updated its currency—the easiest way to avoid using one of the 134 million forged British pounds in its midst. The Nazis' mad-hatter plan had failed. As the war turned on Germany, the Nazis burned their mounds of counterfeits or sealed them in crates, to be dumped into lakes. Krüger eventually handed himself over to British authorities in November of 1946. To this day, nobody knows for sure how much of this Nazi funny money is wedged into nooks and crannies all about Europe. Like all of the führer's ambitions, Operation Bernhard proved as unhinged as it was ruthless in its execution. The irony of it all? Bernhard's once worthless £20 bills now fetch $600 at auctions.
-
FREESTEM Daily Curio #1947Free1 CQ
It's a question we've all asked at some point: why, oh why, do chimpanzees love to pitch poop at us? As stomach-churning and brainless as the habit seems, there's actually a growing consensus that it points to heightened intelligence. Oddly enough, chimps don't often toss poop in the wild. Instead, they hurl rocks, sticks, or branches to convey annoyance or dominance. Part of why captive chimps lob their feces is because, frankly, there isn't much to toss in an enclosure. But here's where their simian intelligence kicks in. Chimps are clever enough to realize the average human really, really doesn't like being pelted with number two. They quickly understand that a bullseye arouses surprise, disgust, (or even laughter) among humans. While this might seem barbaric, it's one of the few ways captive chimps regain a sense of control without inflicting real harm on their handlers. The fetid salvos are often premeditated, too. Scheming chimps will build arsenals and lie in waiting for an irritating human to stroll by. Studies have corroborated this connection between poop-throwing and intelligence. Chimps with an accurate fastball have better-developed motor cortices, or hand-eye coordination. They also process language better than their well-behaved counterparts thanks to robust left-brain hemispheres, and they communicate with more success amongst social groups. In fact, many anthropologists credit this coordination for the evolution of human brains, drawing comparisons to early hominid spear-tossing. So next time a chimp takes a shot at your head, just smile and maybe return the favor. After all, it's a sign you're both exercising your robust intelligence!
Image credit & copyright: BBC Earth
It's a question we've all asked at some point: why, oh why, do chimpanzees love to pitch poop at us? As stomach-churning and brainless as the habit seems, there's actually a growing consensus that it points to heightened intelligence. Oddly enough, chimps don't often toss poop in the wild. Instead, they hurl rocks, sticks, or branches to convey annoyance or dominance. Part of why captive chimps lob their feces is because, frankly, there isn't much to toss in an enclosure. But here's where their simian intelligence kicks in. Chimps are clever enough to realize the average human really, really doesn't like being pelted with number two. They quickly understand that a bullseye arouses surprise, disgust, (or even laughter) among humans. While this might seem barbaric, it's one of the few ways captive chimps regain a sense of control without inflicting real harm on their handlers. The fetid salvos are often premeditated, too. Scheming chimps will build arsenals and lie in waiting for an irritating human to stroll by. Studies have corroborated this connection between poop-throwing and intelligence. Chimps with an accurate fastball have better-developed motor cortices, or hand-eye coordination. They also process language better than their well-behaved counterparts thanks to robust left-brain hemispheres, and they communicate with more success amongst social groups. In fact, many anthropologists credit this coordination for the evolution of human brains, drawing comparisons to early hominid spear-tossing. So next time a chimp takes a shot at your head, just smile and maybe return the favor. After all, it's a sign you're both exercising your robust intelligence!
Image credit & copyright: BBC Earth
-
FREEMind + Body Daily Curio #1946Free1 CQ
Would you eat cheese that sat in a dingy cave for months? What if it was especially delicious? That's the conundrum faced by food safety regulators in France, who are concerned with the aging process of Saint-Nectaire cheese. This variety of cheese has been coveted since at least the 17th century. It's produced in Auvergne, a rustic region in France's heartland once ruled by active volcanoes. The removed prairies of Auvergne are rich in volcanic soil, grasses, and flowers because they've never been cultivated. Meaning the local cows produce one-of-a-kind milk. But something else makes Saint-Nectaire special: it's aged in cellars hand-dug into the local volcanoes. These "cellars" aren't cleaned. They're naturally pressured, humid, and heated for cheese production. They most importantly contain dank cultures of bacteria and fungi—tiny flora that creep up the cheese and hang in the air. Fungi envelop the rinds with their tendrils, or hyphae, which act as highways for bacteria. As disgusting as it sounds, these flora are indispensable in the aging process. Each one of these volcanic caves has developed its own signature cesspool of crawlies, which cultivate subtle varieties of Saint-Nectaire that can't be found anywhere else on the planet. Depending on the specific cave, the cheese will taste earthy, buttery, mushroomy or anything in between. And yet, it's this special cave-aging method that has health regulators up in arms. Pathogenic bacteria like Listeria could theoretically infiltrate a cave and use the same fungal highways to contaminate cheese, they argue—a possibly fatal outcome. The pressure being put on cheesemakers is causing more and more of them to age Saint-Nectaire in artificial cellars that can be cleaned and sanitized periodically. But this comes at the cost of complex flavor profiles unique to each cave in Auvergne. Personally, I'm not put off by the aging process, assuming the fungi's reputation as culinary wizards is well-earned. Here's hoping the cheesemakers don't cave in to the pressure!
Image credit & copyright: Franz Marc Frei/LOOK-FOTO
Would you eat cheese that sat in a dingy cave for months? What if it was especially delicious? That's the conundrum faced by food safety regulators in France, who are concerned with the aging process of Saint-Nectaire cheese. This variety of cheese has been coveted since at least the 17th century. It's produced in Auvergne, a rustic region in France's heartland once ruled by active volcanoes. The removed prairies of Auvergne are rich in volcanic soil, grasses, and flowers because they've never been cultivated. Meaning the local cows produce one-of-a-kind milk. But something else makes Saint-Nectaire special: it's aged in cellars hand-dug into the local volcanoes. These "cellars" aren't cleaned. They're naturally pressured, humid, and heated for cheese production. They most importantly contain dank cultures of bacteria and fungi—tiny flora that creep up the cheese and hang in the air. Fungi envelop the rinds with their tendrils, or hyphae, which act as highways for bacteria. As disgusting as it sounds, these flora are indispensable in the aging process. Each one of these volcanic caves has developed its own signature cesspool of crawlies, which cultivate subtle varieties of Saint-Nectaire that can't be found anywhere else on the planet. Depending on the specific cave, the cheese will taste earthy, buttery, mushroomy or anything in between. And yet, it's this special cave-aging method that has health regulators up in arms. Pathogenic bacteria like Listeria could theoretically infiltrate a cave and use the same fungal highways to contaminate cheese, they argue—a possibly fatal outcome. The pressure being put on cheesemakers is causing more and more of them to age Saint-Nectaire in artificial cellars that can be cleaned and sanitized periodically. But this comes at the cost of complex flavor profiles unique to each cave in Auvergne. Personally, I'm not put off by the aging process, assuming the fungi's reputation as culinary wizards is well-earned. Here's hoping the cheesemakers don't cave in to the pressure!
Image credit & copyright: Franz Marc Frei/LOOK-FOTO
-
FREEAesthetic Daily CurioFree1 CQ
It's Flashback Friday! Enjoy this favorite from the Curio Cabinet archives.
Still working out the details of your Thanksgiving menu? You might consider picking up a copy of the cookbook Les Dîners de Gala. Written by Salvador Dalí and his wife Gala, it isn't your typical cookbook. True to Dalí's artistic eccentricity, it is more like a surrealist journal of the famous dinner parties organized by the couple at their home in Paris. Dalí published the book at the height of his fame, in 1973, but it chronicles parties dating back to the early 1940s. These legendary parties thrown by the Dalís often included elaborate costumes, lewd behavior, and wild animals roaming the premises. Not surprising to Dalí fans, the book is not for the squeamish or the young. Recipes include: fish plated inside satin slippers, a mountain of crayfish in "Viking" herbs, and a sculpture of an armless woman with a skirt made of lobsters, atop a pile of severed heads. Its erotic and grotesque contents include a dish of live frogs, an entire section of aphrodisiac recipes, and a chapter entitled "Les cannibalismes de l'automne" (the "cannibalism of autumn"). Use your imagination for that one. Dalí writes clearly about his objectives for the book, saying it is "uniquely devoted to the pleasures of Taste. If you are a disciple of one of those calorie-counters who turn the joys of eating into a form of punishment, close this book at once." Critics say the work epitomizes Dalí's later life, when he was past his prime and interested only in self-promotion and capitalizing on his fame. If that sounds like some of your Thanksgiving guests, then perhaps serve Dalí's Avocado Toast, complete with minced almonds, tequila, and lamb brains.
Image credit & copyright: Taschen
It's Flashback Friday! Enjoy this favorite from the Curio Cabinet archives.
Still working out the details of your Thanksgiving menu? You might consider picking up a copy of the cookbook Les Dîners de Gala. Written by Salvador Dalí and his wife Gala, it isn't your typical cookbook. True to Dalí's artistic eccentricity, it is more like a surrealist journal of the famous dinner parties organized by the couple at their home in Paris. Dalí published the book at the height of his fame, in 1973, but it chronicles parties dating back to the early 1940s. These legendary parties thrown by the Dalís often included elaborate costumes, lewd behavior, and wild animals roaming the premises. Not surprising to Dalí fans, the book is not for the squeamish or the young. Recipes include: fish plated inside satin slippers, a mountain of crayfish in "Viking" herbs, and a sculpture of an armless woman with a skirt made of lobsters, atop a pile of severed heads. Its erotic and grotesque contents include a dish of live frogs, an entire section of aphrodisiac recipes, and a chapter entitled "Les cannibalismes de l'automne" (the "cannibalism of autumn"). Use your imagination for that one. Dalí writes clearly about his objectives for the book, saying it is "uniquely devoted to the pleasures of Taste. If you are a disciple of one of those calorie-counters who turn the joys of eating into a form of punishment, close this book at once." Critics say the work epitomizes Dalí's later life, when he was past his prime and interested only in self-promotion and capitalizing on his fame. If that sounds like some of your Thanksgiving guests, then perhaps serve Dalí's Avocado Toast, complete with minced almonds, tequila, and lamb brains.
Image credit & copyright: Taschen
-
FREEPsychology Daily Curio #1945Free1 CQ
It's no secret we're overstimulated by modern living. Excess information, addictive gadgets, and barrages of advertising wreak havoc on our minds. But a new trend out of Silicon Valley called "dopamine fasting" claims it has the secret to overcoming the burnout—avoiding all stimulation. Literally, all of it. Dopamine, a neurotransmitter (a chemical messenger in the brain), goes hand in hand with stimulation. It has been mislabeled the "happy hormone" in pop culture. In reality, it's more like the "reward molecule." Dopamine motivates us, hones our attention, and signals pleasure as we anticipate and complete goals. Unfortunately, these "goals" can manifest as looking at our phones or abusing drugs—repetitive fixations that warp our brain chemistry. A short scroll through social media, however small a task, is a rewarding task nonetheless.
Enter dopamine fasting. Practitioners of this method essentially cut themselves off from all stimuli—especially reward-seeking and goals—for a short period of time. Some take it as far as possible, even avoiding friends, emails, and communication at large. The hope is that this abstinence (or hibernation) resets the brain's reward system. After people dopamine fast, they allegedly feel more focused and derive more joy from avoided or even dreaded activities. There's some science to back this up. Stimulus control techniques in drug addiction treatment, as well as 2,500-year-old Buddhist Vipassana meditation, employ similar tactics. But these methods focus on examining and reducing problematic behavior. Dopamine fasting attempts to shut everything out to reboot the brain. Which is impossible. Dopamine always exists in a healthy brain, and is crucial to executive functions like motor control. Too little of it, and you might get Parkinson's. Too much can lead to mania or schizophrenia. Which is to say, shutting down for a day won't cure you of cellphone addiction. But analyzing and regulating the ways you cope with stress and negative emotions, like binging social media, might improve your quality of life in the long run. So maybe get an early start on those New Year's resolutions? If not, I can always catch you after your latest stint in the deprivation chamber!
Image credit & copyright: Peter Prato/New York Times
It's no secret we're overstimulated by modern living. Excess information, addictive gadgets, and barrages of advertising wreak havoc on our minds. But a new trend out of Silicon Valley called "dopamine fasting" claims it has the secret to overcoming the burnout—avoiding all stimulation. Literally, all of it. Dopamine, a neurotransmitter (a chemical messenger in the brain), goes hand in hand with stimulation. It has been mislabeled the "happy hormone" in pop culture. In reality, it's more like the "reward molecule." Dopamine motivates us, hones our attention, and signals pleasure as we anticipate and complete goals. Unfortunately, these "goals" can manifest as looking at our phones or abusing drugs—repetitive fixations that warp our brain chemistry. A short scroll through social media, however small a task, is a rewarding task nonetheless.
Enter dopamine fasting. Practitioners of this method essentially cut themselves off from all stimuli—especially reward-seeking and goals—for a short period of time. Some take it as far as possible, even avoiding friends, emails, and communication at large. The hope is that this abstinence (or hibernation) resets the brain's reward system. After people dopamine fast, they allegedly feel more focused and derive more joy from avoided or even dreaded activities. There's some science to back this up. Stimulus control techniques in drug addiction treatment, as well as 2,500-year-old Buddhist Vipassana meditation, employ similar tactics. But these methods focus on examining and reducing problematic behavior. Dopamine fasting attempts to shut everything out to reboot the brain. Which is impossible. Dopamine always exists in a healthy brain, and is crucial to executive functions like motor control. Too little of it, and you might get Parkinson's. Too much can lead to mania or schizophrenia. Which is to say, shutting down for a day won't cure you of cellphone addiction. But analyzing and regulating the ways you cope with stress and negative emotions, like binging social media, might improve your quality of life in the long run. So maybe get an early start on those New Year's resolutions? If not, I can always catch you after your latest stint in the deprivation chamber!
Image credit & copyright: Peter Prato/New York Times
-
FREEWork Daily Curio #1944Free1 CQ
We already pay for bottled water, so why not clean air? That's the rationale of Aryavir Kumar, the owner of Oxy Pure Oxygen Bar. Located in New Delhi, India, Oxy Pure provides "hits" of crisp oxygen to its clientele at the rate of $4 per 15 minutes. Patrons hook themselves up to colorful breathing apparatuses by strapping nasal cannula around their heads. From there, they can select odor-free oxygen, or scented varieties, including lavender, lemongrass, and cinnamon. Oxygen bars like Oxy Pure have been around for a while. They're an alleged form of alternative therapy that extracts bodily "toxins." As pleasurable as huffing lavender may sound, oxygen bars carry the risk of inducing oxygen toxicity and harming individuals with respiratory illnesses, like asthma. It's also worth noting that the human body is specifically adapted to breathe air that is 21 percent oxygen. In spite of the risks, the aromatic oxygen industry is booming. This is partly because India declared a state of emergency regarding its air quality earlier this month. Pollution from coal and overpopulation in metropolises like New Delhi has turned the air into a miasma linked to brain damage in children. In a grim turn of events, Indians are turning to oxygen bars for a brief respite from the fumes. This dystopian privatization of air is drawing comparisons to the bottled mineral water industry, which originally started out as "therapeutic" in the 1700s. So start hoarding air in Mason jars. Before we know it, sunlight might be monetized, too!
Image credit & copyright: Taniya Dutta/The National
We already pay for bottled water, so why not clean air? That's the rationale of Aryavir Kumar, the owner of Oxy Pure Oxygen Bar. Located in New Delhi, India, Oxy Pure provides "hits" of crisp oxygen to its clientele at the rate of $4 per 15 minutes. Patrons hook themselves up to colorful breathing apparatuses by strapping nasal cannula around their heads. From there, they can select odor-free oxygen, or scented varieties, including lavender, lemongrass, and cinnamon. Oxygen bars like Oxy Pure have been around for a while. They're an alleged form of alternative therapy that extracts bodily "toxins." As pleasurable as huffing lavender may sound, oxygen bars carry the risk of inducing oxygen toxicity and harming individuals with respiratory illnesses, like asthma. It's also worth noting that the human body is specifically adapted to breathe air that is 21 percent oxygen. In spite of the risks, the aromatic oxygen industry is booming. This is partly because India declared a state of emergency regarding its air quality earlier this month. Pollution from coal and overpopulation in metropolises like New Delhi has turned the air into a miasma linked to brain damage in children. In a grim turn of events, Indians are turning to oxygen bars for a brief respite from the fumes. This dystopian privatization of air is drawing comparisons to the bottled mineral water industry, which originally started out as "therapeutic" in the 1700s. So start hoarding air in Mason jars. Before we know it, sunlight might be monetized, too!
Image credit & copyright: Taniya Dutta/The National
-
FREEPhotography Daily Curio #1943Free1 CQ
This gives a new definition to the term "fisheye lens." An algorithm recently co-developed by oceanographer and engineer Derya Akkaynak called "Sea-thru" allows you to "remove the water" from photographs. More accurately, it corrects images by accounting for two meddlesome phenomena. The first, color cast, consists of unwanted tints. Underwater shots have an overabundance of green and blue tints because, as you swim the deeper, water absorbs and scatters more and more red and yellow light. The second phenomenon is called backscatter. This refers to when light is reflected back whence it came, producing a haze which ruins contrast. Sea-thru can compensate for these distortions because it pored over a complex dataset of over 1,100 aquatic photos, each with a color chart in frame. This color chart acted as a point of reference for Sea-thru as it scanned the images, mapping onto variable light conditions to better predict them. To use Sea-thru, Akkaynak must first photograph a reef or rock several times, from a distance, then from differing angles before closing in on the subject. Afterward, she runs those photos through Sea-thru's algorithm and bam, it produces the final, accurate image. Photographers aren't the only ones ecstatic about Sea-thru's potential. Improved underwater photography could revolutionize marine biology and aquatic exploration—fields that have struggled with poor optics for decades. I've heard of getting one's sea legs, but never one's sea eyes!
Below: Akkaynak explains Sea-thru's development and process.
Image credit & copyright: Derya Akkaynak
This gives a new definition to the term "fisheye lens." An algorithm recently co-developed by oceanographer and engineer Derya Akkaynak called "Sea-thru" allows you to "remove the water" from photographs. More accurately, it corrects images by accounting for two meddlesome phenomena. The first, color cast, consists of unwanted tints. Underwater shots have an overabundance of green and blue tints because, as you swim the deeper, water absorbs and scatters more and more red and yellow light. The second phenomenon is called backscatter. This refers to when light is reflected back whence it came, producing a haze which ruins contrast. Sea-thru can compensate for these distortions because it pored over a complex dataset of over 1,100 aquatic photos, each with a color chart in frame. This color chart acted as a point of reference for Sea-thru as it scanned the images, mapping onto variable light conditions to better predict them. To use Sea-thru, Akkaynak must first photograph a reef or rock several times, from a distance, then from differing angles before closing in on the subject. Afterward, she runs those photos through Sea-thru's algorithm and bam, it produces the final, accurate image. Photographers aren't the only ones ecstatic about Sea-thru's potential. Improved underwater photography could revolutionize marine biology and aquatic exploration—fields that have struggled with poor optics for decades. I've heard of getting one's sea legs, but never one's sea eyes!
Below: Akkaynak explains Sea-thru's development and process.
Image credit & copyright: Derya Akkaynak
-
FREEWorld History Daily Curio #1942Free1 CQ
For centuries, Western culture has championed individualism. So much so, that anthropologists at Harvard University recently concluded something makes Western families unique—and the Catholic Church may be to blame. Prior to the Middle Ages, European families were similar to those around the world. Clans, or kindreds, were large and influential. These webs of interconnected marriages acted as safety nets, if you ever fell into crisis. Being a clan member also came with a lot of responsibilities, though, like paying family kindness forward when distant cousins were hard on their luck. Even one's legal status was tied to and largely enforced by the family. This bred a culture in which trust for family members and distrust of nonrelatives both ran high. Most of the world still fits this bill, to some degree. But around 500 C.E., the Catholic Church began rapidly converting Western Europeans. These converts assumed the Church's incest phobias—namely, the praiseworthy call of banning marriage with one's first cousin. Then the spousal rules got stricter. By around 1000 C.E., nobody could marry their second through sixth cousins—a tough barrier to navigate living in a tiny, isolated, medieval hamlet. Since remarriage and adoption were also illegal, clans crumbled. This resulted in the rise of the nuclear family, which contributed to more individualistic social structures and psychology. Catholic individuals (and later Protestant converts) became more independent, commitment-free, and open-minded of extrafamilial persons, at the cost of weaker safety nets and collective experiences. While the researchers haven't proven outright the Catholic Church's role in this cultural transformation, it's a conceivable variable that currently checks out. Which begs the question of what Western families will start resembling now that Christianity's influence is waning. Will we stay the same? Revert to large kindreds? I don't have a preference, but the latter definitely complicates holiday gift shopping!
Image credit & copyright: Duncan1890/Getty Images Plus
For centuries, Western culture has championed individualism. So much so, that anthropologists at Harvard University recently concluded something makes Western families unique—and the Catholic Church may be to blame. Prior to the Middle Ages, European families were similar to those around the world. Clans, or kindreds, were large and influential. These webs of interconnected marriages acted as safety nets, if you ever fell into crisis. Being a clan member also came with a lot of responsibilities, though, like paying family kindness forward when distant cousins were hard on their luck. Even one's legal status was tied to and largely enforced by the family. This bred a culture in which trust for family members and distrust of nonrelatives both ran high. Most of the world still fits this bill, to some degree. But around 500 C.E., the Catholic Church began rapidly converting Western Europeans. These converts assumed the Church's incest phobias—namely, the praiseworthy call of banning marriage with one's first cousin. Then the spousal rules got stricter. By around 1000 C.E., nobody could marry their second through sixth cousins—a tough barrier to navigate living in a tiny, isolated, medieval hamlet. Since remarriage and adoption were also illegal, clans crumbled. This resulted in the rise of the nuclear family, which contributed to more individualistic social structures and psychology. Catholic individuals (and later Protestant converts) became more independent, commitment-free, and open-minded of extrafamilial persons, at the cost of weaker safety nets and collective experiences. While the researchers haven't proven outright the Catholic Church's role in this cultural transformation, it's a conceivable variable that currently checks out. Which begs the question of what Western families will start resembling now that Christianity's influence is waning. Will we stay the same? Revert to large kindreds? I don't have a preference, but the latter definitely complicates holiday gift shopping!
Image credit & copyright: Duncan1890/Getty Images Plus
-
FREEHumanities Daily CurioFree1 CQ
It's Flashback Friday! Enjoy this favorite from the Curio Cabinet archives.
Did the Nepalese government read last week's Curio about spring cleaning rituals? Because they have just added their own: an annual cleaning of Mount Everest. Over decades, the world's tallest peak has become a mountain of trash. Empty bottles of Tuborg beer, discarded oxygen tanks, abandoned climbing equipment, and even dead bodies clutter the frozen landscape. So last week the Sagarmatha Pollution Control Committee, which maintains Everest, announced a partnership with Yeti Airlines to start cleaning up. Their plan is to have porters remove 200,000 pounds of garbage from the treacherous slopes by hand, then have yak-like animals called zopkyos make the one-week journey from base camp to Lukla Airport with sacks of it on their backs, where it will be flown to Kathmandu and recycled. Sure, no big deal! It helps that they have mobilized 30,000 porters and thousands of animals, but still, it's an enormous task. To complicate issues, the official trash dumping zones along the upper trails were covered in plastic, which turned out to be a favorite delicacy of the local wild yak population. So trash is strewn everywhere. The new dumping sites, including 46 recently installed trash cans, are made of less delicious stone and zinc. As for the roughly 300 dead bodies atop Everest, they can't be removed unless consent has been given for burial or cremation in accordance with local laws. And the government has another smelly problem as well: so much human waste is deposited atop Everest each year that the mess is gradually sliding back towards base camp. Yuck! I think I'll just go to an IMAX movie instead.
It's Flashback Friday! Enjoy this favorite from the Curio Cabinet archives.
Did the Nepalese government read last week's Curio about spring cleaning rituals? Because they have just added their own: an annual cleaning of Mount Everest. Over decades, the world's tallest peak has become a mountain of trash. Empty bottles of Tuborg beer, discarded oxygen tanks, abandoned climbing equipment, and even dead bodies clutter the frozen landscape. So last week the Sagarmatha Pollution Control Committee, which maintains Everest, announced a partnership with Yeti Airlines to start cleaning up. Their plan is to have porters remove 200,000 pounds of garbage from the treacherous slopes by hand, then have yak-like animals called zopkyos make the one-week journey from base camp to Lukla Airport with sacks of it on their backs, where it will be flown to Kathmandu and recycled. Sure, no big deal! It helps that they have mobilized 30,000 porters and thousands of animals, but still, it's an enormous task. To complicate issues, the official trash dumping zones along the upper trails were covered in plastic, which turned out to be a favorite delicacy of the local wild yak population. So trash is strewn everywhere. The new dumping sites, including 46 recently installed trash cans, are made of less delicious stone and zinc. As for the roughly 300 dead bodies atop Everest, they can't be removed unless consent has been given for burial or cremation in accordance with local laws. And the government has another smelly problem as well: so much human waste is deposited atop Everest each year that the mess is gradually sliding back towards base camp. Yuck! I think I'll just go to an IMAX movie instead.
-
FREEPsychology Daily Curio #1941Free1 CQ
Common understanding has it that to succeed, one must first fail. But that only works in the right measure, according to a new study titled "The Eighty Five Percent Rule for Optimal Learning." As its name hints, the experiment quantified the ideal error-to-accuracy ratio at 15 and 85 percent. The researchers pinpointed that specific sweet spot by quizzing learning machines. Puzzles included pattern recognition, and sorting photographs and digits. The machines that succeeded 85 percent of the time learned at a faster rate than those of other percentages. And when the researchers compared their machine findings with statistics from numerous animal learning studies, they discovered the 85 percent rule applied in them, too. This is because success ratios closer to 100 percent equate to slow progression, while the closer you get to 50 percent, the more confusion you experience. So improvement isn't just a matter of commitment and patience, but also the economization of your learning efforts. Go-getters who dive into too many concepts or techniques outside their grasp will have plodding progress. The best way to improve a skill is to carefully introduce one or two new variables at a time, to more consciously and accurately focus one's attention on them. So take note students. The next time you come home with another B, you can tell your parents you're learning more efficiently than the top of your class!
Image credit & copyright: Pexels
Common understanding has it that to succeed, one must first fail. But that only works in the right measure, according to a new study titled "The Eighty Five Percent Rule for Optimal Learning." As its name hints, the experiment quantified the ideal error-to-accuracy ratio at 15 and 85 percent. The researchers pinpointed that specific sweet spot by quizzing learning machines. Puzzles included pattern recognition, and sorting photographs and digits. The machines that succeeded 85 percent of the time learned at a faster rate than those of other percentages. And when the researchers compared their machine findings with statistics from numerous animal learning studies, they discovered the 85 percent rule applied in them, too. This is because success ratios closer to 100 percent equate to slow progression, while the closer you get to 50 percent, the more confusion you experience. So improvement isn't just a matter of commitment and patience, but also the economization of your learning efforts. Go-getters who dive into too many concepts or techniques outside their grasp will have plodding progress. The best way to improve a skill is to carefully introduce one or two new variables at a time, to more consciously and accurately focus one's attention on them. So take note students. The next time you come home with another B, you can tell your parents you're learning more efficiently than the top of your class!
Image credit & copyright: Pexels
-
FREEGraphic Design Daily Curio #1940Free1 CQ
Pixar's computer-animated movie classic Toy Story 2 was released on today's date in 1999. Grossing $500 million at the global box office, it was one of the blockbusters that helped solidify the legacy of Pixar. It also nearly ruined the animation studio, thanks to an ill-conceived command entered into a computer. Roughly a year before the movie dropped, in the winter of 1998, an unnamed and likely disgraced employee at Pixar entered "/bin/rm -r -f *" in the movie's storage drives. The command was essentially the self-destruct button, designed to wipe out all files as quickly as possible. Oren Jacobs, a technical director, was horrified as he watched bits of the film vanish before his eyes in real-time. First, Woody's hat faded. Then the cowboy protagonist dematerialized in entirety, like an apparition. Buzz Lightyear, Mr. Potato Head, Rex—the whole gang proceeded to disappear as well. Jacobs dialed systems support to pull the plug on Toy Story 2's "master machine." But it was too late. Around 90 percent of the film had been erased. Even worse, the back-up protocol failed and Pixar (rather foolishly) didn't keep a copy of the movie on hand. It would take a staff of 30 a year to replicate it. Fortunately, another technical director named Galyn Susman had been working from home, so she could spend time with her newborn. Each week, she'd venture to Pixar's studios to snag a copy of Toy Story 2, to work on it remote. When she caught wind of the calamity taking place at Pixar, she swaddled her computer in blankets, set in the back seat of her car, and cautiously drove to work. According to Jacobs, she and others carried the computer "into Pixar like an Egyptian pharaoh." Susman's copied file ended up saving the film and Pixar, alike. Hopefully, Pixar learned a permanent lesson from the ordeal. Oh, and fired the employee who caused it to infinity and beyond!
Image credit & copyright: Pixar
Pixar's computer-animated movie classic Toy Story 2 was released on today's date in 1999. Grossing $500 million at the global box office, it was one of the blockbusters that helped solidify the legacy of Pixar. It also nearly ruined the animation studio, thanks to an ill-conceived command entered into a computer. Roughly a year before the movie dropped, in the winter of 1998, an unnamed and likely disgraced employee at Pixar entered "/bin/rm -r -f *" in the movie's storage drives. The command was essentially the self-destruct button, designed to wipe out all files as quickly as possible. Oren Jacobs, a technical director, was horrified as he watched bits of the film vanish before his eyes in real-time. First, Woody's hat faded. Then the cowboy protagonist dematerialized in entirety, like an apparition. Buzz Lightyear, Mr. Potato Head, Rex—the whole gang proceeded to disappear as well. Jacobs dialed systems support to pull the plug on Toy Story 2's "master machine." But it was too late. Around 90 percent of the film had been erased. Even worse, the back-up protocol failed and Pixar (rather foolishly) didn't keep a copy of the movie on hand. It would take a staff of 30 a year to replicate it. Fortunately, another technical director named Galyn Susman had been working from home, so she could spend time with her newborn. Each week, she'd venture to Pixar's studios to snag a copy of Toy Story 2, to work on it remote. When she caught wind of the calamity taking place at Pixar, she swaddled her computer in blankets, set in the back seat of her car, and cautiously drove to work. According to Jacobs, she and others carried the computer "into Pixar like an Egyptian pharaoh." Susman's copied file ended up saving the film and Pixar, alike. Hopefully, Pixar learned a permanent lesson from the ordeal. Oh, and fired the employee who caused it to infinity and beyond!
Image credit & copyright: Pixar
-
FREEChemistry Daily Curio #1939Free1 CQ
Last week, the International Space Station received a curious delivery: a dozen bottles of red Bordeaux wine from France. But before you go thinking astronauts are throwing a party without us, rest assured that the vin de table is purely for research—aging, to be exact. According to the director of the experiment, Michael Lebert of the University of Erlangen-Nuremberg, the winemaking process's combination of yeast and bacteria makes it an ideal candidate for space study. Lebert and his fellow researchers will closely observe the wine for over a year aboard the ISS, to see how microgravity and cosmic radiation influence the aging process. Conditions that affect the quality of wine on Earth are myriad. Temperature, humidity, light, as well as vibrations, can deteriorate the product during cellaring. To overcome that last variable, the wine bottles were packaged in special metal canisters before their shuttle lifted off, to prevent shattering and minimize jostling. In fact, this wasn't the ISS's first time receiving libations. Budweiser has previously offered up barley seeds to the station, working towards its goal of becoming "the first beer on Mars." A Japanese company also sent whiskey and other productions up in 2015. The first time wine was brought aboard the ISS was actually way back in 1985, when a French astronaut stowed a bottle aboard the shuttle Discovery. After this new study, the dozen bottles of wine will head back to Earth to be compared with identical, but terrestrially-aged Bordeaux. Once the two are contrasted, the benefactors of the experiment will get to drink the space-aged bottles. As for the crew of the ISS, they have their own stock to throw back. Though, bottoms up doesn't quite work in microgravity. Hmm, I wonder how the tannins come through when sipping space wine from a straw!
Image credit & copyright: Arctic-Images/Nick Purser/Getty Images
Last week, the International Space Station received a curious delivery: a dozen bottles of red Bordeaux wine from France. But before you go thinking astronauts are throwing a party without us, rest assured that the vin de table is purely for research—aging, to be exact. According to the director of the experiment, Michael Lebert of the University of Erlangen-Nuremberg, the winemaking process's combination of yeast and bacteria makes it an ideal candidate for space study. Lebert and his fellow researchers will closely observe the wine for over a year aboard the ISS, to see how microgravity and cosmic radiation influence the aging process. Conditions that affect the quality of wine on Earth are myriad. Temperature, humidity, light, as well as vibrations, can deteriorate the product during cellaring. To overcome that last variable, the wine bottles were packaged in special metal canisters before their shuttle lifted off, to prevent shattering and minimize jostling. In fact, this wasn't the ISS's first time receiving libations. Budweiser has previously offered up barley seeds to the station, working towards its goal of becoming "the first beer on Mars." A Japanese company also sent whiskey and other productions up in 2015. The first time wine was brought aboard the ISS was actually way back in 1985, when a French astronaut stowed a bottle aboard the shuttle Discovery. After this new study, the dozen bottles of wine will head back to Earth to be compared with identical, but terrestrially-aged Bordeaux. Once the two are contrasted, the benefactors of the experiment will get to drink the space-aged bottles. As for the crew of the ISS, they have their own stock to throw back. Though, bottoms up doesn't quite work in microgravity. Hmm, I wonder how the tannins come through when sipping space wine from a straw!
Image credit & copyright: Arctic-Images/Nick Purser/Getty Images
-
FREEHumanities Daily Curio #1938Free1 CQ
Last week, the Democrats swept Virginia's General Assembly. It's the first time the state has gone fully blue since 1993. But that's not the big story. It's actually that the newly-elected leaders of Virginia announced their plan to ratify the Equal Rights Amendment (ERA) as soon as possible. The ERA was an ill-fated proposed amendment to the constitution that was penned by spirited feminist Alice Paul in the 1920s. At its barest essence, the ERA would have guaranteed equal legal rights and treatments regardless of sex. It would have leveled the playing field for men and women when it came to divorce, employment, and other issues. Initially introduced in Congress in 1923, it was successfully approved by the House and the Senate by 1972. All that remained in the ERA's way were state legislatures: 38 of the 50 states needed to approve it by a 1979 deadline (later extended to 1982). Presidents from both parties, including Nixon and Carter, endorsed the amendment. It quickly received the approval of 37 states. Then an anti-feminist named Phyllis Schlafly (shown above) rallied followers to stop the amendment in its tracks, for fear it would amount to co-ed bathrooms, the female draft, and same-sex marriages. The bill's deadline expired in 1982. If Virginia ratifies the ERA in 2020, it will ironically be 38 years too late. That being said, the House of Representatives could always pass a bill to retroactively extend the ERA's deadline (assuming it would get through the President). And though a few of the 38 states who initially supported the ERA retracted their support, precedent for ignoring retractions was established with the passing of the 14th amendment in 1868. Sure, the stagnant ERA still faces plenty of obstacles. But it was historically supported by leaders of both political parties. And in 2019, who can argue against both sexes being treated with equality? Obstacles or no obstacles, I see an amendment edging the horizon. And it's long overdue.
Image credit & copyright: AP
Last week, the Democrats swept Virginia's General Assembly. It's the first time the state has gone fully blue since 1993. But that's not the big story. It's actually that the newly-elected leaders of Virginia announced their plan to ratify the Equal Rights Amendment (ERA) as soon as possible. The ERA was an ill-fated proposed amendment to the constitution that was penned by spirited feminist Alice Paul in the 1920s. At its barest essence, the ERA would have guaranteed equal legal rights and treatments regardless of sex. It would have leveled the playing field for men and women when it came to divorce, employment, and other issues. Initially introduced in Congress in 1923, it was successfully approved by the House and the Senate by 1972. All that remained in the ERA's way were state legislatures: 38 of the 50 states needed to approve it by a 1979 deadline (later extended to 1982). Presidents from both parties, including Nixon and Carter, endorsed the amendment. It quickly received the approval of 37 states. Then an anti-feminist named Phyllis Schlafly (shown above) rallied followers to stop the amendment in its tracks, for fear it would amount to co-ed bathrooms, the female draft, and same-sex marriages. The bill's deadline expired in 1982. If Virginia ratifies the ERA in 2020, it will ironically be 38 years too late. That being said, the House of Representatives could always pass a bill to retroactively extend the ERA's deadline (assuming it would get through the President). And though a few of the 38 states who initially supported the ERA retracted their support, precedent for ignoring retractions was established with the passing of the 14th amendment in 1868. Sure, the stagnant ERA still faces plenty of obstacles. But it was historically supported by leaders of both political parties. And in 2019, who can argue against both sexes being treated with equality? Obstacles or no obstacles, I see an amendment edging the horizon. And it's long overdue.
Image credit & copyright: AP