Edward B. Kaplan patented a unique idea in 1995: a braille slot machine.
A pad of pins corresponds to each reel in the machine; as the reels spin, the braille display changes under the player’s fingers until the winning combination is displayed. If the player wins, the machine vibrates slightly.
Any winnings are credited to the machine until the player presses a payout button. “This will also deter any theft from any other individuals.”
When Hitler’s army marched into Copenhagen, Niels Bohr had to decide how to safeguard the Nobel medals of James Franck and Max von Laue, which they had entrusted to him. Sending gold out of the country was almost a capital offense, and the physicists’ names were engraved on the medals, making such an attempt doubly risky. Burying the medals seemed uncertain as well. Finally his friend the Hungarian physicist Georg von Hevesy invented a novel solution: He dissolved the medals in a jar of aqua regia, which Bohr left on a shelf in his laboratory while he fled to Sweden.
When he returned in 1945, the jar was still there. Bohr had the gold recovered, and the Nobel Foundation recast it into two medals.
(Chemist Hermann Mark found a way to escape Germany with his money: He used it to buy platinum wire, which he fashioned into coat hangers. Once he had brought these successfully through customs, he sold them to recover the money.)
Hugh “One-Arm” Daily lost his left arm in a gun accident but went on to win 73 games as a professional pitcher between 1882 and 1887, including a no-hitter.
Mordecai “Three-Finger” Brown (above) lost two fingers in farm machinery as a boy but pitched for 13 seasons between 1903 and 1916, finishing with 1,375 strikeouts.
Pete Gray lost his right arm in a wagon accident but played briefly for the St. Louis Browns in 1945, fielding with a glove but transferring the ball to his bare hand to throw.
A reporter once asked Brown whether lacking a finger made it harder to pitch. “Don’t know,” he said. “Never done it the other way.”
Do those, said he, who learn, learn what they know, or what they do not know?
Cleinias had answered Euthydemus that those who learned learn what they do not know; and he put him through a series of questions the same as before.
Do you not know letters?
He assented.
All letters?
Yes.
But when the teacher dictates to you, does he not dictate letters?
To this also he assented.
Then if you know all letters, he dictates that which you know?
This again was admitted by him.
Then, said the other, you do not learn that which he dictates; but he only who does not know letters learns?
Nay, said Cleinias; but I do learn.
Then, said he, you learn what you know, if you know all the letters?
He admitted that.
Then, he said, you were wrong in your answer.
— Plato, Euthydemus
Suppose you have two identical bolts. Hold each by its head, engage the threads as shown, and revolve one about the other. Will this action pull the heads closer together or drive them farther apart?
Richard Martin, MP for Galway, earned the nickname “Humanity Dick” for his efforts against the abuse of animals in the early 19th century. In 1822 he brought a donkey into court to display the scars of a beating, winning the world’s first conviction for animal cruelty.
Sadly, his cause was still being fought 80 years later, when the “brown dog affair” divided Edwardian England. A London physiologist had allegedly dissected a conscious terrier before 60 medical students. The physiologist won a suit for libel, but his opponents commissioned a bronze statue with a damning inscription:
In Memory of the Brown Terrier Dog done to Death in the Laboratories of University College in February 1903, after having endured Vivisection extending over more than two months and having been handed from one Vivisector to another till Death came to his Release. Also in Memory of the 232 dogs vivisected at the same place during the year 1902. Men and Women of England, how long shall these things be?
The statue occasioned four years of riots, vandalism, and controversy. Battersea Council finally had it melted down — but a replacement was erected in 1985.
Paul Dirac, the British theoretical physicist, has a reputation for being reserved and speaking little. He read E.M. Forster’s A Passage to India, and commented favorably on it. Someone in Cambridge thought the two great men ought to meet. J.G. Crowther recalls that this was arranged. The two men observed each other in long, silent respect. Presently Dirac asked, ‘What happened in the cave?’ ‘I don’t know,’ said Forster, which concluded their conversation.
— Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists, March 1971
You’re eating apples with your friend Dr. Psychic Psycho, a talented biochemist who fancies himself a clairvoyant and has made many accurate oddball predictions.
“I have interesting news for you,” he says. “You must seriously consider taking this pill. As you know (since we have recently determined it together), it contains substance X, which (as you also know — but consult this pharmacopeia if in doubt) is fatally poisonous by itself, while nevertheless furnishing unfailing antidote to poison Z — though it does have some minorly unpleasant side effects. Now the apple I gave to you, which you have just finished eating, was poisoned by me with Z — or not — in line with my prediction as to your taking or not taking the antidote pill. Benign old me, of course, only poisoned the apple if I foresaw that you were indeed going to take the antidote. And not to worry — I’m a very good predictor.”
He rushes off. What should you do?
(By University of Pittsburgh philosopher Nicholas Rescher.)
Modern times have come to China — religious teachers must now fill out a government application before they can be reincarnated.
The decree, passed in 2007, requires that applications be submitted to four different government bodies. “The selection of reincarnates must preserve national unity and solidarity of all ethnic groups, and the selection process cannot be influenced by any group or individual from outside the country.”
“Work out your own salvation,” said the Buddha. “Do not depend on others.”
The story about Dr. Abernethy and his lady patient is a classic. He was a man of few words, and the lady knew it. Being shown into his private office, she bared her arm and said simply, ‘Burn.’
‘A poultice,’ said the doctor.
Next day she called again, showed her arm, and said, ‘Better.’
‘Continue the poultice.’
Some days elapsed before Abernethy saw her again. Then she said, ‘Well. Your fee?’
‘Nothing,’ said the doctor, bursting into unusual loquacity. ‘You are the most sensible woman I ever met in my life!’
— William Shepard Walsh, Handy-Book of Literary Curiosities, 1892