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  OUCH!

  In 2001 Americans spent more on video game systems and software—$9.4 billion—than they did going to the movies—$8.35 billion. What did Higinbotham, who died in 1994, have to show for it? Nothing. He never made a penny off his invention. Not that he could have—he worked for a government laboratory when he invented the game, so even if he had patented the idea, the U.S. government would have owned the patent.

  “My kids complained about this,” he joked, “And I keep saying, ‘Kids, no matter what, I wouldn’t have made any money.’”

  For more about the history of video games, follow the

  bouncing ball to page 180 for “Let’s Play Spacewar!”

  SEA-ING THINGS

  Dolphins sometimes play chase in long lines, like people doing a snake dance or snap-the-whip. Sailors, seeing this long line of something moving in the water, have sometimes reported seeing huge sea serpents.

  It’s easy to spot someone with hexadectylism: six fingers on one hand or six toes on one foot.

  “I SPY”…AT THE MOVIES

  You probably remember the kids’ game “I spy, with my little eye…” Moviemakers have been playing it for years. Want to play? Here are some in-jokes and gags you can look for the next time you see these films.

  SPIDER-MAN (2002)

  I Spy… Lucy Lawless, star of Xena: Warrior Princess

  Where to Find Her: She appears as the red-haired punker who makes the astute observation: “A man with eight arms? Sounds like a good time to me!” (Spider-man director Sam Raimi worked as a producer on Xena.)

  AMERICAN PIE (1999)

  I Spy… Blink 182

  Where to Find Them: During the Internet scene, the popular band can be seen watching the Webcast. Their song “Mutt” is playing in the background.

  HOW THE GRINCH STOLE CHRISTMAS (2000)

  I Spy… Director Ron Howard’s favorite hat

  Where to Find It: On the Grinch’s head—when he is “directing” his dog Max to become a reindeer. Legend has it that Jim Carrey stole the hat and ad-libbed an imitation of Howard. Howard thought the bit was funny and left it in the movie, hat and all.

  ERIN BROCKOVICH (2000)

  I Spy… The real Erin Brockovich

  Where to Find Her: When the fake Erin (Julia Roberts) is in a restaurant with her kids, their waitress is the real Erin. Her name tag reads “Julia.”

  SPIES LIKE US (1985)

  I Spy… Blues legend B.B. King

  Where to Find Him: He’s one of the CIA agents at the drive-in theater/missile silo. In the credits, he’s listed as “Ace Tomato Agent.”

  Fragrant? Fish are used to make soap.

  FERRIS BUELLER’S DAY OFF (1986)

  I Spy… References to several of director John Hughes’s movies

  Where to Find Them: On the license plates of various cars. VCTN (National Lampoon’s Vacation), TBC (The Breakfast Club), MMOM (Mr. Mom), and 4FBDO (Ferris Bueller’s Day Off).

  MONSTERS, INC. (2001)

  I Spy… Pixar’s phone number

  Where to Find It: At the end of the simulation that begins the film, a monster reaches for a knob on the control panel. Just below it and to the left is a series of 10 numbers. Dial them and you’ll reach Pixar, the studio that made the movie.

  THE MATRIX (1999)

  I Spy… Andy and Larry Wachowski, the film’s directors

  Where to Find Them: They’re the two window washers outside the office where Neo is being chastised for arriving late to work.

  THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION (1994)

  I Spy… A photograph of Morgan Freeman’s son

  Where to Find It: The parole papers that repeatedly receive a rejected stamp show a picture of Red (Morgan Freeman) when he was a young man. Morgan’s son Alfonzo was used for the shot.

  GEORGE LUCAS MOVIES

  I Spy… THX-1138

  Where to Find It: THX-1138 was the name of Lucas’s first feature film, and he has paid homage to it throughout his career. A license plate in American Graffiti reads “1T1H3X8.” Luke Skywalker rescued Princess Leia from Cell Block 1138 in Star Wars. In Raiders of the Lost Ark, a loudspeaker in the submarine dock states, “Ein, Ein, Drei, Acht” (“One, one, three, eight” in German). A battle droid in The Phantom Menace has the designation—you guessed it—1138. (Note: We don’t know if there are any references to it in Howard the Duck—we couldn’t make it through a complete viewing.)

  One falsehood spoils a thousand truths.

  Ashanti wisdom

  Cowabunga! As many as 17 million people around the world surf.

  THE TIGER, THE BRAHMAN, AND THE JACKAL

  This classic story of deception and trickery comes from a book of Indian fairy tales published in 1892. For those not familiar with Indian culture, a Brahman is a Hindu of the highest caste: the priest caste.

  ONCE upon a time, a tiger was caught in a trap. He tried in vain to get out through the bars, and rolled and bit with rage and grief when he failed.

  By chance a poor Brahman came by.

  “Let me out of this cage, oh pious one,” cried the tiger.

  “Nay, my friend,” replied the Brahman mildly, “you would probably eat me if I did.”

  “Not at all,” swore the tiger with many oaths. “On the contrary, I should be forever grateful, and serve you as a slave!”

  Now when the tiger sobbed and sighed and wept and swore, the pious Brahman’s heart softened, and at last he consented to open the door of the cage. Out popped the tiger, and, seizing the poor man, cried, “What a fool you are! What is to prevent my eating you now, for after being cooped up so long I am just terribly hungry!”

  In vain the Brahman pled for his life; the most he could gain was a promise by the tiger to abide by the decision of the first three things he chose to question as to the justice of the tiger’s action.

  So the Brahman first asked a pipal tree what it thought of the matter, but the pipal tree replied coldly, “What have you to complain about? Don’t I give shade and shelter to everyone who passes by, and don’t they in return tear down my branches to feed their cattle? Don’t whimper—be a man!”

  Then the Brahman, sad at heart, went farther afield until he saw a buffalo turning a well wheel; but he fared no better from it, for it answered, “You are a fool to expect gratitude. Look at me. While I gave milk they fed me on cotton seed and oil cake, but now that I am dry they yoke me here, and give me refuse as fodder!”

  Want fries with that? The world’s first “McSki” opened in Sweden with “Ski-Thru” service.

  The Brahman, sadder still, asked the road to give him its opinion.

  “My dear sir,” said the road, “how foolish you are to expect anything else. Here am I, useful to everybody, yet all, rich and poor, great and small, trample on me as they go past, giving me nothing but the ashes of their pipes and the husks of their grain!”

  On this the Brahman turned back sorrowfully, and on the way he met a jackal, who called out, “Why, what’s the matter, Mr. Brahman? You look as miserable as a fish out of water!”

  The Brahman told him all that had occurred. “How very confusing!” said the jackal, when the recital was ended; “would you mind telling me over again, for everything has got so mixed up?”

  The Brahman told it all over again, but the jackal shook his head in a distracted sort of way, and still could not understand.

  “It’s very odd,” said he, sadly, “but it all seems to go in at one ear and out at the other! I will go to the place where it all happened, and then perhaps I shall be able to give a judgment.”

  So they returned to the cage, by which the tiger was waiting for the Brahman, and sharpening his teeth and claws.

  “You’ve been away a long time!” growled the savage beast, “but now let us begin our dinner.”

  “Our dinner!” thought the wretched Brahman, as his knees knocked together with fright. “What a remarkably delicate way of putting it!”

  “Give me five minutes, my lord!” he pleaded,
“in order that I may explain matters to the jackal here, who is somewhat slow in his wits.”

  The tiger consented, and the Brahman began the whole story over again, not missing a single detail, and spinning as long a yarn as possible.

  “Oh, my poor brain! Oh, my poor brain!” cried the jackal, wringing its paws. “Let me see! How did it all begin? You were in the cage, and the tiger came walking by—”

  “Pooh!” interrupted the tiger, “What a fool you are! I was in the cage.”

  “Of course!” cried the jackal, pretending to tremble with fright. “Yes, I was in the cage—no I wasn’t—dear, dear, where are my wits? Let me see—the tiger was in the Brahman, and the cage came walking by—no, that’s not it, either! Well, don’t mind me, but begin your dinner, for I shall never understand!”

  During Prohibition, half of all federal prison inmates were in jail for violating liquor laws.

  “Yes, you shall!” returned the tiger, in a rage at the jackal’s stupidity; “I’ll make you understand! Look here—I am the tiger…”

  “Yes, my lord!”

  “And that is the Brahman…”

  “Yes, my lord!”

  “And that is the cage…”

  “Yes, my lord!”

  “And I was in the cage—do you understand?”

  “Yes—no—please, my lord…”

  “Well?” cried the tiger impatiently.

  “Please, my lord I—how did you get in?”

  “How I—why in the usual way, of course!”

  “Oh, dear me!—my head is beginning to whirl again! Please don’t be angry, my lord, but what is the usual way?”

  At this the tiger lost patience and, jumping into the cage, cried, “This way! Now do you understand how it was?”

  “Perfectly!” grinned the jackal, as he dexterously shut the door, “and if you will permit me to say so, I think matters will remain as they were.”

  RANDOM FACTS

  • In 1992, 29,000 rubber ducks and other bath toys fell into the middle of the Pacific Ocean during a shipping accident. Eleven months later, the toys started washing up along the North American seaboard. Scientists used the duckies to help them study ocean currents.

  • What’s the botanical difference between green peppers, yellow peppers, and red peppers? There is none—the only difference is their age. They start out green, then turn yellow, then red, then purple, then brown. And as they mature, they get progressively sweeter (until they spoil).

  • After Congress reduced the postage rate from 5¢ to 3¢ in 1851, a 3¢ piece was minted to make it easier to buy stamps.

  How did bonfires get their name? From “bone fires,” or funeral pyres.

  THE FINAL DAYS OF KING CHARLES II

  Next time you feel yourself coming down with a cold, thank your lucky stars for 21st-century medicine.

  MONDAY

  On the morning of February 2, 1685, King Charles II of England was preparing to shave when he suddenly cried out in pain, fell to the floor, and started having fits. Six royal physicians rushed in and administered emergency “aid.”

  • They let (drained) 16 ounces of blood.

  • Then they applied heated cups to the skin, which formed large round blisters, in order to “stimulate the system.”

  • They let 8 more ounces of blood.

  • They induced vomiting to purify his stomach, gave an enema to purify his bowels, and made him swallow a purgative to clean out his intestines.

  • Then they force-fed him syrup of blackthorn and rock salt.

  • They shaved his hair and put blistering plasters on his scalp. The king regained consciousness. The treatment seemed to be working, so they kept at it.

  • They gave him another enema.

  • Then they applied hellebore root to the nostrils, more blistering plasters to the skin, and powdered cowslip flowers to the stomach.

  • Special plasters made from pigeon droppings were attached to his feet. After 12 hours of care, they put the ailing king to bed.

  TUESDAY

  • Charles awoke and seemed much improved. The attending physicians congratulated themselves and continued the treatment.

  • They let 10 more ounces of blood.

  • They gave him a potion of black cherry, peony, lavender, crushed pearls, and sugar. Charles slept for the rest of the day and throughout the night.

  Woof: Dogs have 42 permanent teeth, 10 more than humans do.

  WEDNESDAY

  • He awoke, had another fit, and was bled again.

  • They gave him senna pods in spring water, and white wine with nutmeg.

  • They force-fed him a drink made from “40 drops of extract of human skull” of a man who had met a violent death.

  • They made him eat a gallstone from an East Indian goat.

  • Then they proudly announced that King Charles was definitely on the road to recovery.

  THURSDAY

  • The king was near death.

  • He was blistered again, re-bled, repurged, and given another enema.

  • He was given Jesuits’ powder—a controversial malaria remedy—laced with opium and wine. His doctors were mystified by the king’s weakening condition.

  FRIDAY

  • Showing no improvement, the king was bled almost bloodless.

  • They scoured the palace grounds and created a last-ditch antidote containing “extracts of all the herbs and animals of the kingdom.”

  SATURDAY

  The king was dead.

  Postmortem: It was rumored at the time that King Charles II had been poisoned, but no proof was ever found. Modern doctors offer three theories as to cause of death:

  1. He was poisoned—but not by an enemy—by himself. He often played with chemicals in an unventilated palace laboratory, where he contracted acute mercury poisoning.

  2. He suffered from kidney failure.

  3. He had a brain hemorrhage.

  Would the king have survived without treatment? Probably not. But at least his death wouldn’t have been so excruciating.

  There are 10,800 feet of film in a two-hour movie.

  OPENING LINES

  The Oscars and the Grammys are all right. But we at the BRI have always been fascinated by things that are so bad they’re good. Here’s the story behind one of our favorite awards, the Bulwer-Lytton.

  “IT WAS A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT…”

  The line has been plagiarized and satirized by a multitude of writers. Sometime in the 1970s, a graduate student named Scott Rice set out to find its origin and discovered it was the opening line of the 1830 novel Paul Clifford by English author Edward George Bulwer-Lytton:

  It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents—except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness.

  Years later, while working as an English professor at San Jose State University, Rice served as a judge in numerous writing contests. Impressed by the high quantity of bad writing he saw, in 1982 Rice decided to run his own contest. His unusual literary challenge: compose the opening sentence to the worst of all possible novels. This “whimsical competition” soon turned into a formal contest, which Rice named for the master of longwindedness: the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest.

  Today the contest attracts thousands of entries from all over the world. The rules are simple: the entry can only be a single sentence. It may be of any length, but all entries must be original and previously unpublished. Here are some of the winners from the past 20 years.

  • As the fading light of a dying day filtered through the window blinds, Roger stood over his victim with a smoking .45, surprised at the serenity that filled him after pumping six slugs into the bloodless tyrant that mocked him day after day, and then he shuffled out of the office with one last look back at the shattered computer terminal
lying there like a silicon armadillo left to rot on the information superhighway.

  —Larry Brill, Austin, Texas (1994 winner)

  President George W. Bush’s 2001 tax cut added 14,368 pages to the U.S. Tax Code.

  • She wasn’t really my type, a hard-looking but untalented reporter from the local cat box liner, but the first second that the third-rate representative of the fourth estate cracked open a new fifth of old Scotch, my sixth sense said seventh heaven was as close as an eighth note from Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, so, nervous as a tenth grader drowning in eleventh-hour cramming for a physics exam, I swept her into my longing arms, and, humming “The Twelfth of Never,” I got lucky on Friday the thirteenth.

  —William W. Ocheltree, Port Townsend, Washington (1993 winner)

  • The bone-chilling scream split the warm summer night in two, the first half being before the scream when it was fairly balmy and calm and pleasant for those who hadn’t heard the scream at all, but not calm or balmy or even very nice for those who did hear the scream, discounting the little period of time during the actual scream itself when your ears might have been hearing it but your brain wasn’t reacting yet to let you know.

  —Patricia E. Presutti, Lewiston, New York (1986 winner)

  • The countdown had stalled at T minus 69 seconds when Desiree, the first female ape to go up in space, winked at me slyly and pouted her thick, rubbery lips unmistakably—the first of many such advances during what would prove to be the longest, and most memorable, space voyage of my career.