NINETY-SEVEN is the longest number name with strictly alternating vowels and consonants …
… unless you count NEGATIVE NINETY-SEVEN.
NINETY-SEVEN is the longest number name with strictly alternating vowels and consonants …
… unless you count NEGATIVE NINETY-SEVEN.
Beset with writer’s block, Robert Benchley typed the word The, thinking it “as safe a start as any.”
Then he left for an hour with friends.
On returning to his room he regarded the solitary word, alone on its expanse of blank paper.
He typed hell with it and “went out happily for the evening.”
An Austrian army, awfully arrayed,
Boldly by battery beseiged Belgrade;
Cossack commanders cannonading come,
Dealing destruction’s devastating doom;
Every endeavour engineers essay
For fame, for fortune, forming furious fray;
Gaunt gunners grapple, giving gashes good;
Heaves high his head heroic hardihood;
Ibraham, Islam, Ismail, imps in ill,
Jostle John, Jarovlitz, Joe, Jack, Jill,
Kick kindling Kutosoff, kings’ kinsmen kill;
Labor low levels loftiest, longest lines;
Men marched ‘mid moles, ‘mid mounds, ‘mid murd’rous mines.
Now nightfall’s near, now needful nature nods,
Opposed, opposing, overcoming odds.
Poor peasants, partly purchased, partly pressed,
Quite quaking, Quarter! quarter! quickly quest.
Reason returns, recalls redundant rage,
Saves sinking soldiers, softens seigniors sage.
Truce, Turkey, truce! Truce, treach’rous Tartar train!
Unwise, unjust, unmerciful Ukraine!
Vanish, vile vengeance! Vanish, victory vain!
Wisdom wails war — wails warring words. What were
Xerxes, Xantippe, Ximenes, Xavier?
Yet Yassey’s youth, ye yield your youthful yest,
Zealously, zanies, zealously, zeal’s zest.
— William T. Dobson, Literary Frivolities, Fancies, Follies and Frolics, 1880
In 1964, two students at California’s Pomona College hypothesized that the number 47 appears with unusual frequency in the world. They began to amass examples, starting a campus tradition that continues to this day:
Now the hypothesis has produced its own reality: Pomona graduate Joe Menosky became a writer for Star Trek and helped to build a universe where 47 appears oddly often:
Trek producer Brannon Braga has confirmed that Voyager‘s Harry Kim lives in Apartment 4-G because G is the seventh letter in the alphabet.
The concept of forgery seems to be peculiarly inapplicable to the performing arts. It would be quite nonsensical to say, for example, that the man who played the Bach suites for unaccompanied cello and whom at the time we took to be Pablo Casals was in fact a forger. Similarly, we should want to argue that the term forgery was misused if we should read in the newspaper that Margot Fonteyn’s performance in Swan Lake last night was a forgery because as a matter of fact it was not Margot Fonteyn who danced last night, but rather some unknown person whom everyone mistook for Margot Fonteyn. Again, it is difficult to see in what sense a performance of, say, Oedipus Rex or Hamlet could be termed a forgery.
— Alfred Lessing, “What Is Wrong With a Forgery?” in Alex Neill and Aaron Ridley, eds., Arguing About Art, 1995
A Yorkshire police constable sent this image to the Strand in 1907: “This photograph of dog and puppies was about to be thrown away as a failure, when on turning the picture sideways it was found that the dog’s body has the appearance of a man’s head”:
This undated photo seems to reveal the image of a bearded Jesus:
And Bohemian artist Wenzel Hollar etched Landschafts-Kopf in the 17th century:
Is it a portrait or a landscape?
The first few powers of 5 share a curious property — their digits can be rearranged to express their value:
25 = 52
125 = 51 + 2
625 = 56 – 2
3125 = (3 + (1 × 2))5
15625 = 56 × 125
78125 = 57 × 182
It’s conjectured that all powers of 5 have this property. But no one’s proved it yet.
I read about an Eskimo hunter who asked the local missionary priest, ‘If I did not know about God and sin, would I go to hell?’ ‘No,’ said the priest, ‘not if you did not know.’ ‘Then why,’ asked the Eskimo earnestly, ‘did you tell me?’
— Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 1974
Well! It seems you have gotten so wrapped up in piano practice that you have forgotten about KILLER BEES!
Don’t look to me for help; I’m hiding in the cellar. Happily Virginia L. Butler has got you covered — in 1996 she invented a 6×3 bag of flexible, transparent, and sting-resistant plastic, complete with a mesh-covered aperture through which you can jeer at your frustrated attackers.
“In use, one can quickly unfold the present invention when the sound of a swarm is initially heard and enter the protective chamber before the bees actually approach. Even if one or two bees enter the enclosure during the process, the number of stings and proportionate danger will be greatly reduced.”
Conveniently, the bag can be folded and carried in a lightweight pouch that “fits easily into a backpack, purse, picnic basket, or pocket.” You can keep it near the piano.
Anthony Burgess wrote his Enderby novels under the pen name Joseph Kell. So he was amused when in 1963 the Yorkshire Post asked him to review one of them.
Sensing a practical joke by one of the editors, he submitted a scathing review. “This is in many ways a dirty book,” he wrote. “It may well make some people sick, and those of my readers with tender stomachs are advised to let it alone.”
Alas, the assignment wasn’t a joke. The newspaper published Burgess’ review — and when it discovered his double identity, “I was attacked by the editor of the Yorkshire Post on Yorkshire Television and promptly, and perhaps justly, dismissed.”
See Conflict of Interest.