Skin Deep

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“Everything has its beauty,” wrote Confucius, “but not everyone sees it.”

Born in 1834 to a Mexican Indian mother, Julia Pastrana spoke three languages, had excellent taste in music, and gave charitably to deserving institutions. But the world would not see beyond her hypertrichosis, which covered her face and body with straight black hair, and her showman husband paraded her around the world as “The Bearded and Hairy Lady.”

“I well recollect seeing and speaking to this poor Julia Pastrana when in life,” wrote Francis Buckland in Curiosities of Natural History. “She was about four feet six inches in height; her eyes were deep black, and somewhat prominent, and their lids had long, thick eyelashes: her features were simply hideous on account of the profusion of hair growing on her forehead, and her black beard; but her figure was exceedingly good and graceful, and her tiny foot and well-turned ankle, bien chaussé, perfection itself.”

She died bearing a child at 26, and her mummy continues to tour the world — ironically, an object of more enduring fascination than the beauties of its day.

Unquote

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“I played over the music of that scoundrel Brahms. What a giftless bastard! It annoys me that this self-inflated mediocrity is hailed as a genius. Why, in comparison with him, Raff is a giant, not to speak of Rubinstein, who is after all a live and important human being, while Brahms is chaotic and absolutely empty dried-up stuff.” — Tchaikovsky’s diary, Oct. 9, 1886

The Publius Enigma

In June 1994, shortly after Pink Floyd released the album The Division Bell, someone calling himself Publius posted two messages to the newsgroup alt.music.pink-floyd:

  • “My friends, You have heard the message Pink Floyd has delivered, but have you listened? Perhaps I can be your guide, but I will not solve the enigma for you.”
  • “The Division Bell is not like its predecessors. Although all great music is subject to multiple interpretations, in this case there is a central purpose and a designed solution. For the ingenious person (or group of persons) who recognizes this–and where this information points to–a unique prize has been secreted.”

When readers asked for proof of his authenticity, Publius wrote, “Monday, July 18, East Rutherford, New Jersey. Approximately 10:30pm. Flashing white lights. There is an enigma.” Sure enough, at the appointed time during a Floyd concert the words ENIGMA PUBLIUS appeared in white lights at the front of the stage.

Unfortunately, the clues then dwindled, no explanation was given, and no winner was ever announced. Rumors about the enigma have appeared ever since in fan circles and semi-cryptically from the band’s organization, but no one really knows what the enigma is. “It is important to note that neither I nor anyone involved with this zine will enter into any correspondence on this topic,” wrote Jeff Jensen, editor of the band’s fan magazine, in issue 34. “It’s a puzzle for you, devised by the one who loves you enough to drive you mad.”