A Canceled Debt

Suppose you borrowed $10 from Tom and $10 from Bob. On your way to repaying them you are robbed of everything but the $10 you had hidden in your shirt pocket. By no fault of your own, you now face the following paradoxical dilemma:

(1) You are obligated to repay Tom and Bob.
(2) If you pay Tom you cannot repay Bob.
(3) If you repay Bob you cannot repay Tom.
(4) You cannot honor all your obligations: in the circumstances this is impossible for you. (By (1)-(3).)
(5) You are (morally) required to honor all your obligations.
(6) You are not (morally) required to do something you cannot possibly do (ultra posse nemo obligatur).

— Nicholas Rescher, Paradoxes, 2001

| Science & Math

The Waiter

Art critic Philip Gilbert Hamerton’s wife found herself sitting next to Alfred, Lord Tennyson one day at a Paris lunch. He told her this story — she records it in her 1896 memoir:

I had occasion to go to Paris with a friend who was supposed to speak French creditably, and who fancied himself a master of it. On the morning following our arrival in the French capital, being somewhat knocked up by the journey, we had a late breakfast at a small side-table of the dining-room, of which we were soon the only occupants, under the watchful and, as I thought, suspicious eyes of a waiter, whose attention had probably been attracted by the conspicuous difference between our stature and garb from that of his little dandified countrymen.

Having caught a slight cold on the passage, I felt more inclined to stay by the fire with a newspaper than to go out, and did so, whilst my friend, who had some business in the town, left me for some time. As I drew my chair up to the hearth I heard the waiter answering with alacrity to some recommendation of my friend’s, ‘Oh, monsieur peut être tranquille, j’y veillerai.’ I thought it was some order about our dinner, and resumed my political studies.

Was it my cold which made me dull and inattentive? It is quite possible, for my eyes kept wandering from my paper, and, strange to say, always met those of the French waiter riveted upon me. At first I felt annoyed: what could be so strange about my person? Then I was irritated, for though that queer little man was making some pretence at dusting or replacing chairs, still his eyes never left me for a moment, and at last, being somewhat drowsy, I had the sensation that one experiences in a nightmare, and thought I had better resort to my room and make up for a shortened night.

No sooner, however, had I got up from my chair than the waiter was entreating me to remain, offering to heap coals on the fire, to bring me another paper or a pillow if I was tired, and ‘Did I wish to write a letter? he would fetch instantly what was required; or should I like something hot for my cold?’ His voice had the strange coaxing tone that we use to pacify children, and made me stare; but I answered angrily that I only wanted a nap, and to be let alone, and I made for the door in spite of his objurgations.

Then he ran in front of me, and barring the door with arms outstretched, besought me to await my friend. This unaccountable behavior had rendered me furious, and now I was determined to force my way out, despite the mad resistance and loud gibberish of the waiter, and I began to use my fists.

It was in the midst of this tremendous row that my astonished friend re-appeared in the dining-room, and was greeted with this exclamation from my adversary: ‘Ah, monsieur, vous voyez, j’ai tenu ma parole: je ne l’ai pas laissé sortir le fou; mais ça n’a pas été sans peine, il était temps que vous arriviez.’

It turned out that my friend, anxious for my comfort and noticing that the fire was getting low, had said in his easy French before leaving, ‘Garçon, surtout ne laissez pas sortir le fou’ (feu) — meaning ‘Don’t let the fire go out,’ and the intelligent foreigner had immediately guessed from my appearance that I was le fou.’

Tennyson offered this as one of a number of anecdotes about him that were current at the time; when she asked whether it were true, he smiled and said, “I think it is capital; you will have to guess.”

| Literature

The Girt Dog of Ennerdale

http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Thylacineprint.jpg

In 1810, a mysterious creature began killing sheep in northern England. Between May and September it defied the entire county of Cumberland, killing up to eight sheep a night despite being hunted nearly continuously. The “girt dog” never attacked the same flock on successive nights; it ignored poisoned meat left for it and led frustrated farmers on fruitless chases of 20 miles and more, occasionally turning to savage the forelegs of the pursuing dogs but never uttering a sound.

Finally, in September, the creature was run to ground near the Ehen River and shot. In four months it had killed more than 300 sheep. The carcass, which weighed 112 pounds, was stuffed and set up in a museum in Keswick, though it’s since been lost. Its description — a tawny dog with a tiger’s stripes — curiously matches that of the thylacine (above), a wolflike marsupial native to Tasmania. Possibly an exotic predator had escaped from a traveling menagerie and found itself peculiarly adapted to Cumberland farmland. We’ll never know.

| Oddities

Astral Assault

A most interesting problem …, some years ago, engaged the attention of the courts of Georgia. A man named Simpson, standing in South Carolina, fired a pistol with felonious intent at a person who was in a boat, on water embraced within the territorial limits of Georgia. The bullets went wide of the person at whom they were aimed and splashed in the water. It was held by the courts that the defendant was guilty of an assault with intent to murder in Georgia, ‘because,’ said the judge, ‘the balls did strike the water of the river in close proximity to him (the prosecuting witness) within this State, and it is therefore certain that they took effect in Georgia.’

For the purposes of the case the judge held further that the defendant, when he fired the shots, was constructively in the State of Georgia. This holding was upon a theory of the law that where one puts in force an agency for the commission of crime, he, in legal contemplation, accompanies the same to the places where it becomes effectual.

— “Historic Legal Puzzles,” The Green Bag: A Useless but Entertaining Magazine for Lawyers, August 1899

| Society

Grammagrams

A phonetic puzzle by Woody Rowe:
grammagram grid

Across

1. What mosquitoes do.
2. What snakes do.
3. What dogs do.
4. What teeth do.

Down:

1. Insects
2. Optical organs
3. Annoy
4. Comfort

The solution:

grammagram solution - english

Get it? Remarkably, the same idea works in French:

grammagram grid

Across

1. Que font les moustiques
2. Que font les chiens
3. Que font les serpents
4. Que font les dents

Down

1. aime
2. au
3. air
4. dé

grammagram solution - french

| Language

Devil’s Advocate

Calling Halloween “the devil’s holiday,” in 1986 Ralph P. Forbes of London, Ark., filed suit to prevent the public schools from letting kids wear costumes to school.

He filed the suit on behalf of himself, all Christian children, and Jesus Christ. The defendants included the Arkansas Department of Education, “high priests of secular humanism,” and Satan.

U.S. District Judge George Howard Jr. continued the case, whereupon attorney John Wesley Hall Jr. offered to represent Satan pro bono. He pointed out that the Dark One doesn’t transact business, own property, or commit torts in Arkansas, and asked the judge to drop him as a defendant.

The Chicago Tribune reported drily that “efforts to reach Satan for comment were unsuccessful.”

| Religion · Society