“A Cats’ Home”

A Mr. Jonathan Jackson, of Columbus, Ohio, died some thirty years ago, leaving orders to his executors to erect a cats’ home, the plans and elevation of which he had drawn out with great care and thought. The building was to contain dormitories, a refectory, areas for conversation, grounds for exercise, and gently sloping roofs for climbing, with rat-holes for sport, an ‘auditorium’ within which the inmates were to be assembled daily to listen to an accordion, which was to be played for an hour each day by an attendant, that instrument being the nearest approach to their natural voices. An infirmary, to which were to be attached a surgeon and three or four professed nurses, was to adjoin the establishment.

— Virgil McClure Harris, Ancient, Curious and Famous Wills, 1911

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The Rejected Gun

From Henry Dudeney:

Here is a little military puzzle that may not give you a moment’s difficulty. It is such a simple question that a child can understand it and no knowledge of artillery is required. Yet some of my readers may find themselves perplexed for quite five minutes.

An inventor offered a new large gun to the committee appointed by our government for the consideration of such things. He declared that when once loaded it would fire 60 shots at the rate of a shot a minute. The War Office put it to the test and found that it fired 60 shots an hour, but declined it “as it did not fulfill the promised condition.”

“Absurd,” said the inventor, “for you have shown that it clearly does all that we undertook it should do.”

“Nothing of the sort,” said the experts. “It has failed.”

Can you explain this extraordinary mystery? Was the inventor, or were the experts, right?

Click for Answer
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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.

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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

| Art · Quotations

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.”

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