Fact of the Day

[DarkRavie]

Fact of the Day - MODERN DOORKNOBS

Did you know.... For the first several thousand years of their existence, doors were largely knob-free; they were typically opened and closed using latches, handles, bars, or leather straps.  The process of entering and exiting a room was revolutionized on December 10, 1878, when a self-taught 16-year-old inventor named Osbourn Dorsey received a patent for a doorknob with an internal door-latching mechanism. This was a massive improvement to existing doorknobs, which lacked internal latches and were generally more difficult to use — some used external bolts or strings and didn’t stay in place as well. However, as modern innovations can take a while to catch on, it took several more years for most people to embrace Dorsey’s upgraded doorknobs and begin having them installed in their homes.

 

Although most of us now use Dorsey’s version of a doorknob every day, little else is known about the African American inventor’s life beyond the fact that his mother Christina and siblings Mary and Levi were enslaved prior to his birth in 1862. Before his inventing days, Dorsey either trained or worked as a blacksmith.

 

The battery was invented in 1800.
Though we may think of them as fairly newfangled inventions inextricably linked to our electronic gadgets, batteries as we know them today were actually invented more than 200 years ago, in 1800. The mind behind this innovation was Alessandro Volta, who was born in 1745 and came up with the chemical battery more than half a century later.

 

Volta had long been interested in conductivity, having written his paper “On the forces of attraction of electric fire” in 1769, and his invention was preceded by several other relevant experiments. His voltaic pile, as it was called at the time, was a stack of some 30 alternating zinc and silver discs separated by cloth soaked in brine. A current flowed when he connected a wire to both ends, and what he initially dubbed an “artificial electric organ” proved to be a massive success.

 

 

Source: Modern doorknobs weren’t invented until 1878.

[DarkRavie]

Fact of the Day - DOGS AND TENNIS BALLS

Did you know... The balls were obviously not created with canines in mind. But that hasn’t stopped them from becoming beloved dog toys.

 

You’ve probably seen a dog bounding after a tennis ball at one point or another. But what is it about these particular balls—which weren’t even originally designed for pets—that makes canines go crazy? As it turns out, Fido’s fascination stems from a unique mix of instinct and happenstance.

 

This classic pairing is kismet. Dogs have a natural affinity toward tennis balls because their shape, size, texture, and even smell are all perfectly designed to pique their interests. 

 

Tennis balls are precisely the right size to fit into most dogs’ mouths comfortably. They’re also usually made from rubber, which has a distinct scent (remember: your dogs have super-smelling skills). 

 

Another factor is that dogs can’t see colors the same way humans do. They have a limited spectrum, and bright yellow—yes, tennis balls are yellow—is one color that stands out to them. This means that even when you throw it impossibly far away, they can still spot it pretty easily.

 

Dogs are big fans of not only tennis balls, but chasing activities in general, because of their evolutionary prey instinct. These instincts lead dogs to go after animals like birds or rabbits, which move around in erratic ways. The bouncing of a tennis ball can replicate this movement and scratch that “prey drive” part of your pup’s brain. 

 

Are tennis balls safe for dogs?
Some safety warnings to be aware of: It’s important to remember that our dogs are creatures led by instinct. Some dogs might want to take their fun to the next level and chew up their tennis balls, so people must pay close attention to their pets during puppy playtime. 

 

Bits of a gnawed-up tennis ball, or even the shredded fuzzy exterior, are choking hazards. Take care to prevent your dog from accidentally lodging the whole thing in their throat. The American Kennel Club suggests making sure your pet knows the “drop it” command when playing with these toys.

 

The material may also be abrasive to your pet’s teeth and stomach (though hopefully they won’t swallow any).  To be safe, throw the tennis ball away as soon as it starts to get too worn. You should also be mindful of where you throw the ball—as when playing with other toys, you want to ensure you aren’t accidentally prompting your pup to run into traffic or another dangerous situation.

 

 

Source: Why Do Dogs Love Tennis Balls?

[DarkRavie]

Fact of the Day - AIRPLANE MODE VS. DO NOT DISTURB

Did you know.... Airplane mode might not be as necessary as you think, but DND mode certainly comes in handy when you’re trying to focus.

 

Modern smartphones come packed with so many features that understanding their different functions can be challenging sometimes. Take, for instance, those airplane and Do Not Disturb (DND) settings.

 

If used to their full potential, these two handy, but potentially confusing, communication filtering tools can make life a little easier. This simple guide will talk you through both modes and explain how they differ—and how to best use them.

 

What Is Airplane Mode?
With airplane mode activated, your device is cut off from all cellular data and Wi-Fi connectivity. This means it can no longer be used to send or receive calls. All functions requiring a signal to be sent in or out will be disabled, including text messages, emails, and access to Bluetooth or GPS (location) services.

 

All smartphones and tablets come equipped with this setting. To activate it on an iPhone, just navigate to the Control Center and tap the relevant icon. On an Android device, you’ll find this under Settings>Network Connections. Alternatively, you can also swipe down from the top of your home screen.

 

When you enable this feature, your phone is effectively in offline mode—meaning no information can be sent to or from it. You should still be able to access text messages that were already received, plus music, photos, or podcasts that you might have already downloaded. Some smartphone models, such as the iPhone, do allow you to manually turn Wi-Fi back on while remaining in airplane mode, should you wish to connect to any in-flight Wi-Fi when it's available.

 

Why Does Airplane Mode Exist?

You’ve probably already been prompted to use airplane mode in the past, especially if you’re a frequent traveler. But you might not know the origins of how this particular smartphone feature came to be.

 

Airplane mode exists because of concerns that mobile signals might generate electromagnetic interference with an aircraft’s vital electronic systems. In practice, however, this is unlikely to happen. Experts even claim it’s virtually a myth, and that there are no conclusive links between cell phone usage and aircraft disturbances. Recent studies—including one undertaken by the Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) as far back as 2012—more or less back up these claims, too.

 

These days, governments have frequencies reserved for different uses, ensuring that phone signals do not operate within the same bandwidth as aircraft electronics. That said, it’s a situation that is subject to ongoing debate; it also varies by region. Within the EU, for example, you can now use your phone if you’re connected to the 5G network.

 

Should You Still Use Airplane Mode?
Even though it might not be necessary, there are still some good reasons why you may want to use airplane mode on flights.

 

Wireless networks operate through a series of towers. When a plane flies over one of these towers, and every passenger on board is simultaneously connected, it could lead to overloading the system.

 

Another possible problem lies in the social aspect. Imagine 200-plus passengers within the confines of an airplane, all potentially talking on their phones at the same time. In this sense, it acts as a kind of courtesy gesture while on planes—by refraining from taking calls and keeping your smartphone in flight mode while you’re in the air, you’re doing your fellow passengers a solid (as, likewise, they’re willing to do for you).

 

What is Do Not Disturb Mode?
Whereas airplane mode breaks your phone’s connection with a cellular network, DND mode simply silences your device. In fact, it’s useful to think about this feature as essentially just silent mode.

 

All incoming notifications—including beeps, ringtones, and pop-up notices usually triggered from incoming text messages, phone calls, news updates, and so forth—are muted when you’ve activated this setting. They’re still there and will be visible once you check your phone, but with DND activated, you won’t be alerted as you usually would.

 

On Android devices, DND mode can be accessed via Settings>Sound and Vibration or by swiping down from the top of your home screen. For iPhones, you’ll once again want to navigate to the Control Center.

 

The Benefits of Do Not Disturb Mode
There are plenty of upsides when it comes to DND mode, especially if you’re someone who is terminally online (no judgment) or who just has trouble focusing sometimes.

 

It can be useful in cinemas or professional settings, for example, where there is a strong need for silence, or you don’t want to be distracted. Under DND mode, pre-set alarms will still trigger as usual too, which can be very useful if you’re trying to catch some ZZZs but don’t want to be interrupted otherwise.

 

DND mode also allows for customization: You can specify that certain calls or messages from designated contacts still go off. This is a key feature that differentiates DND mode from your phone’s official Silent mode, which simply quiets all notifications. Silent mode might be ideal during a work meeting or important event. On other occasions, however, you may want to switch to DND, as this means certain contacts will definitely still come through.

 

 

Source: Airplane Mode vs. Do Not Disturb Mode: What’s the Difference?

[DarkRavie]

Fact of the Day - DISINFORMATION VS. MISINFORMATION

Did you know.... The difference between misinformation and disinformation boils down to the intent behind it (or lack thereof).

 

On the surface, disinformation and misinformation have a lot in common: They’re both types of false information. In fact, misinformation can sometimes be disinformation, and disinformation can give way to misinformation. But despite their similarities, the two terms aren’t exactly interchangeable.

 

Misinformation vs. Disinformation
As Dictionary.com explains, misinformation is wrong information relayed “regardless of intent to mislead.” In other words, the person transmitting the intel isn’t necessarily trying to make anyone believe something erroneous; in many cases, they don’t even know it’s erroneous in the first place.

 

Say, for example, you tell your uncle that you’re headed on a spelunking adventure in a bat-heavy area. He tells you to wear a hat at all times, considering bats’ penchant for getting tangled in people’s hair. If your uncle actually believes that bats target hair (they don’t), he’s spreading misinformation—it’s untrue, sure, but he’s not purposely trying to sow untruths.

 

But maybe your uncle had a harrowing encounter with a bat colony as a kid. He’s feared and hated them ever since, and he’s keen on making everyone else fear and hate them, too. To further his mission, he’s constantly presenting slanderous misconceptions about bats as facts. That’s not just misinformation—it’s disinformation, which the Oxford English Dictionary defines as “the dissemination of deliberately false information, {especially} when supplied by a government or its agent to a foreign power or to the media, with the intention of influencing the policies or opinions of those who receive it.” Disinformation can be as large as an international propaganda campaign or as small as one man’s crusade to turn the world against Stellaluna and company.

 

So your uncle maliciously mentions that bats love to claw at hair, you believe him, and then you tell everyone on your spelunking trip that bats love to claw at hair. As you’re not sharing the fictitious tidbit out of any ill intent, it’s back to being plain old misinformation.

 

How to Know Which Term to Use
Misinformation is a much older term, first showing up in print during the 16th century. The earliest known written instance of disinformation, by contrast, is from 1955—possibly derived from the Russian word dezinformátsiya. Unsurprisingly, disinformation appeared a lot in reference to all the espionage and propaganda that happened on both sides of the Cold War.

 

Here’s a handy mnemonic device to help you keep the two straight: Misinformation is often a mistake, while disinformation is intentionally dishonest.

 

Source: Disinformation vs. Misinformation: What’s the Difference?

[DarkRavie]

Fact of the Day - ALAN SMITHEE

Did you know... Even if you’ve never heard of Alan Smithee, there’s a chance you’ve seen one of his movies. Well, kind of. For decades, directors followed guidance from the Directors Guild of America by using the pseudonym when they didn’t want their actual name on a film. That most often occurred when the finished product was far removed from the director’s original vision due to studio interference or other issues. Most films carrying this dubious distinction aren’t well known — you probably haven’t heard of The Barking Dog, Let’s Get Harry, or Ghost Fever — but there are exceptions, including a Hellraiser sequel and one segment of a Twilight Zone episode.

 

Perhaps the most revered and well-known filmmaker to be credited as Alan Smithee is David Lynch, who disowned his ill-fated 1984 adaptation of Dune due to studio meddling; he has since insisted on having final cut on all his projects in order to avoid a repeat of that experience. (Lynch has called the film a “huge, gigantic sadness,” and though his name appears on the theatrical version, Alan Smithee is credited on subsequent editions.) Sometimes the reason for the pseudonym was less dramatic, as when movies such as Michael Mann’s Heat or Martin Brest’s Scent of a Woman were edited for television or airlines and the director didn’t agree with the changes in those versions. Smithee officially retired in 2000 following a decision by the Directors Guild of America, though nonmembers have continued to use the name on occasion.

 

A made-up screenwriter was nominated for an Oscar.
When Charlie Kaufman set out to write Adaptation (2002), his follow-up to the mind-bending Being John Malkovich, he “honestly did not think [the] movie would ever see the light of day.” But the beguiling metafictional drama about writing, orchids, and twin brothers did indeed get made — albeit with a little help from Kaufman’s fictional twin Donald, who appears as a character in the film (played by Nicolas Cage) and also received a co-screenwriting credit. “Their” script went on to receive an Academy Award nomination for Best Adapted Screenplay, making Donald the first fictional screenwriter to be so honored. Kaufman later won the Oscar for Best Original Screenplay in 2004 for Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, a feat he achieved without the aid of his cinematic, and entirely made-up, sibling.

 

 

Source: For decades, directors used the pseudonym “Alan Smithee” when they didn’t want their real names on a film.

[DarkRavie]

Fact of the Day - CAREN MARSH DOLL

Did you know.... Caren Marsh Doll survived a plane crash that killed 35 people in 1949—and that’s not even the most interesting thing about her.

 

The Wizard of Oz first appeared on the silver screen in 1939 and, according to one study, went on to become the most influential film of all time. The beloved movie celebrates its 86th birthday this year, and while sadly the vast majority of the cast and crew are no longer around to raise a glass to the iconic film, Caren Marsh Doll is. Marsh Doll was Judy Garland’s stand-in and, at 105 years old, she’s one of the last surviving actresses from the Golden Age of Hollywood.

 

Caren Marsh Doll (then known as Caren Marsh; Doll wasn’t added until her marriage to Bill Doll in 1950) got her start in Tinseltown as a dancer in the musical Rosalie (1937). She was cut during the audition, but she simply changed her clothes and tried again in the hope that the casting director wouldn’t recognize her. They didn’t, and she booked her first job. While dancing on another film, Caren was spotted by someone from MGM and hired to be Judy Garland’s stand-in for The Wizard of Oz. In her own words, she was the perfect pick: “with both of us at 4 feet, 11 inches tall, with dark hair and eyes, we could have been taken for twins.”

 

A stand-in needs to match their actor counterpart as closely as possible in regard to clothing, coloring, height, and weight so that the technical elements of a scene can be set up accurately. To spare the movie’s star of this tedious process, Caren endured it instead. “I went down that yellow brick road over and over while the camera was being adjusted, while the lighting was being adjusted,” Caren explained in a 2009 interview. “When the cameraman and the director were satisfied with the result, then they called Judy. I stepped out, she stepped in, they shot the scene.” As well as skipping down the yellow brick road countless times, she was also the test subject for the tornado scene. She recalled in another interview that “those wind machines blew hard!”

 

It isn’t always certain which of Garland’s stand-ins and doubles—there was also Bobbie Koshay, Dorothy Andre, and Jean Kilgore—played Dorothy in specific scenes. Although doubles usually appear on-camera while stand-ins stay off-camera, this isn’t a strict rule. The most pivotal scene involving one of these women takes place when Dorothy opens the door of her sepia-toned farmhouse to the Technicolor world of Munchkinland. To film the transition from black-and-white to color without cutting away, the interior of the house was painted in sepia tones and the whole shot was filmed in color. One of Garland’s substitutes (Koshay is often named, but without evidence) donned a black-and-white version of the gingham dress to open the door, and when the camera moved past her, Garland in her iconic blue dress stepped into frame and out into Oz.

 

 

 

Caren continued acting and dancing in films over the next decade, but her Hollywood career came to an abrupt end when she was involved in a plane crash on July 12, 1949. She was one of 48 passengers and crew who were aboard the plane that crashed into the Santa Susana Mountains on its way to Burbank; just 13 people survived. Marsh Doll’s right foot was badly injured—she described it looking like “red hamburger with white noodles sticking out”—but a fellow passenger saved her life by dragging her from the fiery wreck.

 

Initially, she was told by a doctor that her foot would have to be amputated. A second doctor was able to save her foot, but said that she wouldn’t be able to dance again. “I refused to accept that,” she recalled to the Los Angeles Times in 1999. Although Marsh Doll never returned to the big screen, she proved the doctors wrong. Even at the age of 80, she was still dancing and teaching a variety of styles—from country to ballroom.

 

At 105 years old, Caren Marsh Doll has outlived almost the entirety of The Wizard of Oz cast. The only other surviving alumni are Priscilla Montgomery Clark and Valerie Lee, both of whom played munchkins when they were children and are now 95 and 94, respectively. Today, Marsh Doll lives in Palm Springs, California. Her husband, Bill, passed away in 1979, but he’s survived by their son, Jonathan. Marsh Doll is just as surprised as anyone that she’s still here. (She’s more than twice as old as Judy Garland was when she tragically died at just 47.) In a Facebook post celebrating her 104th birthday, she wrote: “We’re all on our own yellow brick road, but who knew mine would be this long?”

 

 

Source: Meet Caren Marsh Doll, the Oldest Living Cast Member of ‘The Wizard of Oz’

[DarkRavie]

Fact of the Day - MANILA ENVELOPE

Did you know... Manila envelopes carry a few secrets

 

 

The days of getting important documents in the mail instead of a PDF may be waning, but there’s still plenty of mileage left in the Manila envelope. The oversized, heavy-duty enclosures can send and store everything from contracts to insurance policies to incriminating blackmail.

 

But why are they called “Manila” envelopes? Does the name refer to the Philippines? And if so, how did that come about?

 

American stationery companies were experiencing supply shortages in the 1830s. Cotton and linen rags, which were used to produce paper pulp, were growing scarce. To keep production up, papermakers turned to the Manila rope typically found on ships. In contrast to cotton and linen, Manila rope was derived from Manila hemp—an extremely strong and durable material sourced from Manila, or abacá, plants native to the Philippines (hence it being named after the country’s capital, Manila). The properties made them ideal when high-tensile strength material was needed, and everything from shirt collars to ship sails was sourced from the plant.

 

Companies continued to find use for Manila fibers even when other paper sources became available. Manila rope that was too frayed to remain in use could be recycled rather than discarded, making it a thrifty resource.

 

Unlike the products of today, early Manila folders were much heavier and more akin to cardboard than paper. One sheet could be folded in half to make a simple folder. Because it was water-resistant, the folder was ideal for transporting important documents. And because the plant fibers used to make it are yellow-brown in color, the material had a distinct, golden hue.

 

Despite Manila fibers being their main component, it took a while for the term Manila envelope to catch on. The Oxford English Dictionary cites the first use of the phrase in print in 1889, when printer Barnum and Co. professed to “make a specialty of large Manilla [sic] … envelopes.”

 

Exporting Manila hemp should have been lucrative for the Philippines. Instead, colonialism got in the way. The American government saw Manila rope as a valuable wartime resource, and it sought to control trade of the crop while colonizing the Philippines at the turn of the 20th century. During this period, most of the country’s abacá was exported to the U.S. while Filipinos saw little profits.

 

Manila was phased out of most paper manufacturing over time, with wood pulp growing both more readily available and far less expensive. But the durability of Manila products had developed a reputation, and paper companies continued to use unbleached, yellowish paper to make large envelopes. Today they’re usually sealed either with a gum flap or a metal clasp. They also kept their “Manila” designation, despite no longer featuring the plant fiber. The term has come to be associated with an envelope durable enough to protect documents, even when the material used isn’t nearly as strong as the Manila plant it was once derived from.

 

 

Source: Why Is It Called a “Manila” Envelope?

[DarkRavie]

Fact of the Day - SNOW HAS A SCENT?

Did you know... Does snow have a scent? if you’ve ever predicted a big snowstorm based on a familiar tickle in your nose, you know the answer is a bit complicated.

 

Does snow have a scent? The logical side of your brain may say no: Snow is just frozen water, and therefore odorless. But if you’ve ever predicted a big snowstorm based on a familiar tickle in your nose, you know the answer isn’t so straightforward. So what exactly is happening when you “smell” a meteorological event? The answer has less to do with specific odor molecules as it does with the climate in which you smell them.

 

For an episode of the now-retired podcast Physics Central, olfactory scientist Pamela Dalton laid out the perfect storm of physical conditions you interpret as the smell of snow. When temperatures approach freezing right before it snows, it’s actually harder to detect scents in the air than it is during milder weather. Cold weather slows down molecules in the air, and with less molecular activity, certain smells become less pungent. That means “smelling snow” is, in part, just smelling fewer odors outdoors than what you’re used to.

 

But if there was nothing else to it, a snowstorm would smell no different than a cold, dry day. The factor that determines the difference is humidity. Right before a snowstorm, the air is more humid than usual. This is what causes the flakes to fall: When the atmosphere hits the maximum amount of moisture it can hold, it reacts by dumping some of the moisture—whether in the form of rain, sleet, or in this case, snow—back onto the ground. That humidity has the added effect of giving your olfactory system a quick boost. To many people, the sensation of being able to smell with a warm, moist nose in freezing weather is linked with the promise of snow.

 

As all of that’s happening to the world around you, there are mechanisms at work inside your body that also help to explain the unmistakable scent of snow. You sense the cold air you breath with your trigeminal nerve, the same nerve that interprets sensations caused by tingly hot peppers or cool mint toothpaste (it also interprets other facial sensations and is why you might sneeze in sunlight). This is separate from your olfactory system, but you still lump the information it gives you with conventional scents like coffee or pine.

 

These elements—cold weather, humidity, and a stimulated trigeminal nerve—combine to create something that isn’t an odor, but a sensory experience you’ve come to associate with snow. That’s why, when asked to describe the scent, people often use words like clean, fresh, and cold—things that don’t have much of a scent at all.

 

 

Source: What’s Really Happening When You “Smell” Snow?

[DarkRavie]

Fact of the Day - BLEP?

Did you know.... We investigate the adorable causes of the tongue-lolling phenomenon.

 

As pet owners are well aware, cats are inscrutable creatures. They hiss at bare walls. They invite petting and then answer with scratching ingratitude. They wiggle their butts comically before launching a pounce attack.

 

Sometimes, you may catch your cat staring off into the abyss with their tongue lolling out of their mouth. This cartoonish expression, which is atypical of a cat’s normally regal air, has been identified as a “blep” by internet cat photo connoisseurs.

 

Cunning as they are, cats probably don’t have the self-awareness to realize how charming this is. So why do cats really blep?

 

In a 2018 piece for Inverse, cat consultant Amy Shojai expressed the belief that a blep could be associated with the Flehmen response, which describes the act of a cat “smelling” their environment with their tongue. As a cat pants with their mouth open, pheromones are collected and passed along to the vomeronasal organ on the roof of their mouth. This typically happens when cats want to learn more about other cats or intriguing scents, like your dirty socks.

 

While the Flehmen response might precede a blep, it is not precisely a blep. That involves the cat’s mouth being closed while the tongue hangs out listlessly.

 

In 2018, Ingrid Johnson, a certified cat behavior consultant through the International Association of Animal Behavior Consultants and the owner of Fundamentally Feline, told Mental Floss that cat bleps may have several other plausible explanations. “It’s likely they don’t feel it or even realize they’re doing it,” she said. “One reason for that might be that they’re on medication that causes relaxation. Something for anxiety or stress or a muscle relaxer would do it.”

 

If the cat isn’t sedated and unfurling their tongue because they’re high, then it’s possible that an anatomic cause is behind a blep: Johnson said she’s seen several cats display their tongues after having teeth extracted for health reasons. “Canine teeth help keep the tongue in place, so this would be a more common behavior for cats missing teeth, particularly on the bottom.”

 

A blep might even be breed-specific. Persians, which have been bred to have flat faces, might dangle their tongues because they lack the real estate to store it. “I see it a lot with Persians because there’s just no room to tuck it back in,” Johnson said. A cat may also simply have a Gene Simmons-sized tongue that gets caught on their incisors during a grooming session, leading to repeated bleps.

 

Whatever the origin, bleps are generally no cause for concern unless they’re doing it on a regular basis. That could be sign of an oral problem with their gums or teeth, prompting an evaluation by a veterinarian. Otherwise, a blep can either be admired—or retracted with a gentle prod of the tongue (provided your cat puts up with that kind of nonsense). “They might put up with touching their tongue, or they may bite or swipe at you,” Johnson said. “It depends on the temperament of the cat.” Considering the possible wrath involved, it may be best to let them blep in peace.

 

 

Source: Why Do Cats ‘Blep’?

[DarkRavie]

Fact of the Day UPPERCASE AND LOWERCASE

Did you know... Uppercase and lowercase letters have existed since ancient times—but the terms are much more recent.

 

The origin of the terms uppercase and lowercase might seem pretty self-explanatory. Upper and lower must be references to the height of the letters, and the use of case is presumably an offshoot of its “condition” sense.

 

But that’s actually not the case.

 

From Majuscule to Minuscule
Many writing systems—including Hebrew, Arabic, and Korean (a.k.a. Hangul), among others—don’t distinguish between upper and lower case at all. And even those that do haven’t been using those terms for very long, relative to how old the concepts are.

 

In paleography, upper- and lowercase scripts are known as majuscule and minuscule, respectively. Majuscule derives from the Latin word maiusculus, meaning “somewhat larger,” and minuscule maps to minusculus, or “rather small.” People didn’t always use a combination of the two. Ancient Greek and Roman scribes initially wrote only in majuscule: rows upon rows of blockish letters that fit precisely between two imaginary lines. We’d consider it all-caps—they just didn’t really have an alternative.

 

 

Then, as early as the 1st century CE, minuscule began to emerge: smaller, rounder letters that required fewer strokes. You could write them more quickly than their majuscule counterparts because the letters were easily strung together as cursive (though cursive majuscule did exist). Minuscule features lots of ascenders and descenders—strokes that extend above the median letter height and below the baseline. The stem of a b or k, for example, is an ascender, while the tail of a g or p is a descender.

 

A 4th-century letter written in Latin with recognizable minuscule letters (and some majuscule, too). | Franz Steffens, Lateinische Paläographie, Wikimedia Commons // Public Domain

 

The earliest evidence of minuscule script wasn’t found in books, but in aspects of daily life: on pottery in Gaul, on walls in Pompeii, etc. This suggests that minuscule may have been invented by regular folks rather than scribes. Eventually, versions of minuscule caught on among scribes, too, though it took hundreds of years for it to truly unseat majuscule as the de facto script for formal works.

 

It’s impossible to compress centuries of writing and countless variations of majuscule and minuscule scripts into some tidy evolutionary timeline, but certain milestones do stand out. One was the development of Carolingian minuscule, part of Charlemagne’s 8th- and 9th-century push to reform education and standardize the production of Latin texts across Europe.

 

A page of the Gospel of Luke written in Carolingian minuscule. | British Library, Wikimedia Commons // Public Domain

Other minuscules grew out of Carolingian, including the Gothic black-letter style so familiar from medieval works. During the Renaissance, the humanists re-embraced Carolingian minuscule, which they mistakenly assumed had originated in ancient Rome. But even as minuscule reigned supreme, it was still common to start sentences and key words with oversized letters for flair and emphasis—capital letters, as they’ve been called since the 14th century.

 

A page in black-letter from a 15th-century book of hours known as the Llangattock Hours. | Heritage Images/GettyImages
 

We’ve preserved this bicameral custom in our current system of upper and lower cases. As for where we got those names, look to the printing press.

 

Capitals on a Case-by-Case Basis
Johannes Gutenberg’s 15th-century printing press introduced Europe to the wondrous convenience of movable type (something China had worked out several centuries earlier). Each mold bore only one letter or character, so you could reuse a set indefinitely just by rearranging them. Printers stored their letters in trays known as cases: Capital letters went in the upper case, and minuscule ones went in the lower case. In other words, the upper case was literally just a case situated above the lower case.

 

The upper and lower cases of a printing press exhibited in Williamsburg, Virginia. | MizGingerSnaps, Flickr // CC BY 2.0
 

“The Upper Case and the Lower-Case are of an equal length, breadth, and depth,” Joseph Moxon wrote in his 1683 work Mechanick Exercises: Or, the Doctrine of Handy-Works Applied to the Art of Printing.

 

According to the Oxford English Dictionary, that’s the earliest known reference to upper case and lower case. People wasted no time in applying the terms to the two types of letters, rather than only using them for the physical cases themselves. In the very same book, Moxon mentioned setting “a Word of great Emphasis … in the Lower Case” with “the first Letter a Capital.”

 

At the time, deciding what constituted “a Word of great Emphasis” was pretty much up to you. Moxon said as much in his advice on title pages: The printer could set words however “best pleases his fancy, or is in present mode” (i.e., whatever’s in style at the moment). More nouns got capitalized than other parts of speech, but there weren’t strict rules about when to do so.

 

The writers of the U.S. Constitution capitalized 'tranquility,' 'posterity,' and various other nouns we now wouldn't. | Douglas Sacha/GettyImages

 

“Books appeared in which all or most nouns were given an initial capital (as is done systematically in modern German)—perhaps for aesthetic reasons, or perhaps because printers were uncertain about which nouns to capitalize, and so capitalized them all,” linguist David Crystal wrote in The Cambridge Encyclopedia of the English Language. “However, the later 18th-century grammarians were not amused by this apparent lack of order and discipline in the written language. In their view, the proliferation of capitals was unnecessary, and causing the loss of a useful potential distinction. Their rules brought a dramatic reduction in the types of noun permitted to take a capital letter.”

 

The trend has continued to shift toward the lower case. Contemporary style guides generally don’t even capitalize president unless it directly precedes a name; e.g, George Washington, the first president of the United States, was succeeded by President John Adams. The Associated Press goes so far as to lowercase the french of french fries, because it “refers to the style of cut, not the nation.” These days, printers don’t have to reach into their upper case in order to break that rule.

 

 

Source: The Surprisingly Literal Reason We Call Letters “Uppercase” and “Lowercase”

[DarkRavie]

Fact of the Day - CROSS-COUNTRY ROAD TRIP

Did you know.... On May 23, 1903, Vermont doctor Horatio Nelson Jackson, along with his mechanic Sewall Crocker, drove down San Francisco’s Market Street, hopped on the Oakland ferry, and traveled east into the history books — the first U.S. cross-country road trip was officially underway. This historical moment was born from a $50 wager to see if Jackson could travel from San Francisco to New York in under 90 days. It’s a wager easily won on today’s 164,000 miles of paved highway, but in the early 20th century, most byways west of Nebraska were little more than dirt roads.

 

The challenge was daunting, but Jackson accepted. He didn’t head due east, which would have sent him straight into California’s unforgiving desert, but instead traveled north into Oregon before making a sharp right turn into Idaho, where he picked up his second passenger — a pit bull named “Bud.” Averaging only 71 miles per day in his Winton touring car on the rough western roads, Jackson also had few reliable maps to navigate his way across Idaho and Wyoming. However, once Jackson, Crocker, and Bud entered Nebraska, paved roads appeared with increasing regularity, and the trio could cover 250 miles in a single day. Yet there were plenty of breakdowns, wrong turns, and other misadventures, and the whole trip took 63 days, 12 hours, and 30 minutes to complete — still well under the original 90-day bet. Jackson was greeted by cheering crowds as the group traveled down the Hudson River in New York toward their final destination. Finally, at 4:30 a.m. on July 26, 1903, the well-worn Winton parked in front of the Holland House hotel in midtown Manhattan. Jackson joyously honked his horn to announce their long-awaited arrival.

 

The first person to drive a car long distance was a woman named Bertha Benz.
Karl Benz is often credited as the inventor of the automobile, but few know about his pioneering wife, who made major auto innovations of her own. Her greatest contribution came in August 1888, when — in an effort to prove the importance of her husband’s invention — she set off on a 65-mile journey from Mannheim to Pforzheim, Germany, with her two teenage sons in Benz’s Model III Patent Model Car. Without telling her husband of her plan, Bertha and the boys quietly rolled the car out of the workshop and were soon undertaking the world’s first road trip — traveling at a max speed of 14 miles per hour. The biggest concern was getting enough gas to complete the journey (gas tanks didn’t exist yet), but luckily a pharmacist in Wiesloch, Germany, sold ligroin, a petroleum spirit used as an early motor fuel as well as a chemical solvent for laboratories. Bertha stopped by to top off the carburetor, and today the pharmacy is considered by some to be the world’s first gas station. During this laborious test drive, Bertha also cleaned fuel lines with a hat pin and even insulated an ignition wire with a garter. But most importantly, Bertha’s successful trip proved that Benz’s invention could survive rough roads and still deliver its passengers safely.

 

 

Source: The first cross-country road trip in a car took 63.5 days.

[DarkRavie]

Fact of the Day - WALKING CORAL

Did you know... How do mushroom corals make their way across the sea floor? Very slowly.

 

You might be used to seeing corals planted in one spot. That’s because most of them permanently attach themselves to an area on a reef and stay there indefinitely. But not all coral species want to be tied down forever; according to the The New York Times, adult mushroom corals “walk” to new destinations, and experts are now closer to understanding how they do it.

 

Scientists at Australia’s Queensland University of Technology and University of Technology Sydney conducted a study of tiny mushroom corals, which was published in the journal PLOS One. They examined the movement of these solitary corals using time-lapse cameras inside a blacked-out aquarium. Brett Lewis, a marine ecologist, microscopist, and co-author of the study, shined two lights on either side of the tank: a sliver of white light, similar to the brightness of shallow waters, and one of blue light, like the deeper areas of water. 

 

The mushroom corals tended to move toward the blue light. Science explains that since blue light wavelengths penetrate deeper into water compared to other colors, the corals may have evolved to associate it with the ocean depths where they seek refuge.

 

Mushroom corals aren’t fast creatures: They only moved 45 millimeters every 24 hours. Nonetheless, their mobility—however slow—is a useful adaptation. They may need to relocate to deeper water because of overcrowding among colonial corals, rough waves, or reproduction. 

 

What’s more, mushroom corals move similarly to jellyfish. As Lewis told The New York Times, “Jellyfish can move through water by twisting and contracting muscles in and around the edges of that bell shape as it pulses.” Mushroom corals are similarly shaped, so they move by inflating the outermost layer of tissues on their bodies and quickly release the air to propel themselves.

 

These scientists aren’t the first to reveal that corals can move, or to record coral movement. The first tape of a moving coral was made in 1995, when video resolution wasn’t as developed. Consequently, scientists knew that some corals could move, but they couldn’t see exactly how they did it until now. 

 

You can watch the high-definition time-lapse video of a mushroom coral shimmying across a tank under the “Supporting Information” section of the study.

 

 

Source: Study Reveals How Some Corals ‘Walk’ Across the Sea Floor

[DarkRavie]

Fact of the Day - LOVE LETTERS

Did you know... “But if I lose you, what is left to hope for? What reason for continuing on the pilgrimage of life?”

 

For as long as people could write, it seems, the more romantic and less self-conscious among us have been penning love letters. But in the era of ephemeral digital communication, the visceral pleasure of a handwritten love letter is largely lost. What school-age kid can even read cursive anymore?

 

This Valentine’s Day, take a bit of inspiration from these few famous love letters and pen your sweetie a love missive. You can even add a “Do you like me? Check yes or no” if you’re feeling self-conscious about it.

 

Abelard and Héloïse: Love Letters Spell Trouble
Tales of thwarted love capture the human imagination like nothing else, so it's not surprising that the early 12th century story of Pierre Abelard and Héloïse has endured for generations.

 

Abelard was in his early thirties and one of the most promising philosophers and teachers in medieval Paris; young Héloïse was the clever and academic live-in niece of a respected clergyman, Canon Fulbert. Claiming the upkeep of a home and the commute to Paris was too onerous, Abelard appealed to Fulbert: In exchange for room and board, he'd tutor bright Héloïse. Some claim that Abelard knew exactly what he was doing by securing a room with the canon, but whether it was fate or the crafty work of a besotted suitor, it worked. Abelard and Héloïse soon fell in love and, after a brief period of intense “study” sessions, Héloïse became pregnant. They married in secret and for a short time, it looked like things were going to turn out OK for the pair. But that wouldn't make it a tragedy: With wounded pride and a vengeful heart, Canon Fulbert hired some men to find Abelard and castrate him.

 

With Abelard maimed and her child entrusted to the care of her family, Héloïse was given little choice but to take the vows; she later became prioress of her abbey, while Abelard’s career as a philosopher progressed.

 

 

Abelard seems to have turned away from sensual love after the incident, but Héloïse continued to pour her romantic love for him into letters:

 

“But if I lose you, what is left to hope for? What reason for continuing on the pilgrimage of life, for which I have no support but you and none in you except the knowledge that you are alive, now that I am forbidden all other pleasures in you and denied even the joy of your presence which from time to time could restore me to myself?”

 

In the more than 800 years since their deaths, their story, now the stuff of paintings and poetry, has cemented their place in the pantheon of great lovers. Their letters also remain—although there is some scholarly debate as to whether the two even wrote them. The real question is, as the couple has already passed into legend, does it matter?

 

Ludwig van Beethoven: Love Letters to a Mystery Woman
Though Ludwig van Beethoven never married, he fell in love deeply and often, usually with women who were unattainable due to social mores or because they were already married. The composer wrote a number of love letters, but three stand out—the “Immortal Beloved” letters.

 

In the first, dated the morning of Monday, July 6, Beethoven writes, “Love demands everything and is quite right, so it is for me with you, for you with me.” In the second, dated that evening, he “weeps” at the thought that the mail only goes out on Monday and Thursdays early in the morning—because he has already missed the first, his beloved won't receive word from him until Saturday.

 

The next day, he writes, “I can only live, either altogether with you or not all. Your love made me the happiest and the unhappiest at the same time.” He ends the last letter:

 

“Oh, go on loving me—never doubt the faithfullest heart
Of your beloved
L
Ever thine.
Ever mine.
Ever ours.”

 

Attempts to conclusively determine the identity of his “Immortal Beloved” have generally come to naught, although some say the most likely candidate is Antonie Bretano, a Viennese woman who, true to Beethoven’s form, was already married to a Frankfurt merchant. Others say she was Josephine von Brunsvik, an unhappily married Hungarian aristocrat who’d formed an attachment to Beethoven some years earlier. Still others claim it was the Countess Julia Guicciardi, to whom he’d dedicated his gorgeous “Moonlight Sonata.”

 

 

 

But no one believes the version put forward by Hollywood director Bernard Rose, in his 1994 Beethoven biopic starring Gary Oldman and Isabella Rossellini: That the Immortal Beloved was actually Johanna Reiss, the wife of Beethoven’s brother and a woman who, outside the make-believe world, Beethoven actually hated.

 

Charles Darwin: The Evolution of Love
When most people think of Charles Darwin, they don't usually think romance—the author of On the Origin of the Species is far more well known for his theory of evolution than for his reputation as a lover.

 

It’s true that Darwin wasn't exactly sentimental. In 1838, seven years after his momentous voyage around Tierra del Fuego on the Beagle—a trip that planted the seeds of what would become his master work—the scientist decided he'd like to get married.

 

 

Darwin came to this decision after drawing up a list of pros and cons. Under marry, he wrote, “constant companion” and “better than a dog anyhow.” Under not marry, he wrote, “conversation with clever men at clubs.”

 

Ultimately, the pros outweighed the cons and he became engaged to his first cousin, Emma Wedgwood.

 

His love letters aren't sappy, but they do reflect his honest love for Emma and the genuine excitement he felt at his impending nuptials. “How I do hope you shall be happy as I know I shall be,” he wrote, just days before their wedding. “My own dearest Emma, I earnestly pray, you may never regret the great, and I will add very good, deed you are to perform on the Tuesday: my own dear future wife, God bless you!”

 

The couple had 10 children together and for the most part, their marriage was quite happy; even so, Emma, a devout Christian, worried desperately about what effect Darwin’s scientific theories would have on his immortal soul and the souls of people who agreed with him.

 

Presidential Love Letters
Woodrow Wilson was the 28th president of the United States and the man who led America through the First World War (though historians have reevaluated his reputation in recent years). He was also a prolific love letter writer.

 

While wooing Edith Bolling, Wilson penned a series of love letters, some signed “Tiger” (Wilson was a Princeton alum, but this was before the university took on the tiger as its mascot.) In one, Wilson wrote, “You are more wonderful and lovely in my eyes than you ever were before; and my pride and joy and gratitude that you should love me with such a perfect love are beyond all expression, except in some great poem which I cannot write.” In another, he pines, “Please go to ride with us this evening, precious little girl, so that I can whisper something in your ear—something of my happiness and love, and accept this, in the meantime, as a piece out of my very heart, which is all yours but cannot be sent as I wish to send it by letter.”

 

 

Wilson certainly isn’t the only American president to turn a bit mushy with a pen—or feather quill—in hand. In President Harry Truman’s letters to Bess Wallace before they were married, he writes, “I suppose that I am too crazy about you anyway. Every time I see you I get more so if it is possible. I know I haven't any right to but there are certain things that can't be helped and that is one of them. I wouldn't help it if I could you know.”

 

President Ronald Reagan wrote to Nancy Reagan after 31 years of marriage, “I more than love you, I'm not whole without you. You are life itself to me. When you are gone I'm waiting for you to return so I can start living again.” Their correspondence was published in the 2002 book I Love You, Ronnie: The Letters of Ronald Reagan to Nancy Reagan.

 

Of course, some of the most famous presidential love letters were between John Adams and his wife, Abigail. While debating public policy and the direction of American independence, the two exchanged sweet, affectionate, silly, and often deeply affecting endearments. “Dear Miss Saucy,” he writes, “I hereby order you to give me as many kisses and as many hours of your company as I shall please to demand, and charge them to my account.”

 

Source: Dear Valentine: A Brief History of Great Love Letters

[DarkRavie]

Fact of the Day - NEITHER CONFIRM NOR DENY

Did you know... The art of the non-answer answer comes from our friends at the CIA.

 

In February 1992, an argument broke out on a U.S. Air Force jet bound for a remote Siberian outpost. The flight was set to deliver food to aid the people of the former Soviet Union, which had collapsed the previous December—but they couldn’t agree on whether the plane was headed for the right airport to deliver its supplies. A Russian navigator insisted they weren’t. He was correct, leading one of the American crewmembers to quip, “We can neither confirm nor deny that our intelligence is not always so intelligent.”

 

Indeed, American intelligence is often difficult to pin down. The clandestine nature of the work necessitates a large degree of ambiguity, secrecy, and fabrication. One of the most common ways to circumvent a media request, a Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) letter, or other inquiry has been to state that the party “can neither confirm nor deny” the veracity of an event or existence of a document. This is particularly true when the question relates to nuclear weapons, leaked state secrets, or other matters of national security.

 

Appropriately, the phrase originated with a resourceful recluse who hardly ever spoke on the record.

 

Confirmation Hearing
The “neither confirm nor deny” non-answer answer is also known as the Glomar response, a reference to the intriguing political maneuvering that helped to popularize it.

 

In 1968, U.S. intelligence learned that a Soviet-owned submarine, K-129, sank in the Pacific Ocean and came to rest over 3 miles below the water’s surface. What made the sub’s fate particularly interesting (if not outright concerning) was the fact that it was carrying nuclear missiles. With Russia seemingly unable to locate and retrieve it, the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) began putting together a plan to scoop it—and any Russian secrets it might harbor—up for themselves.

 

To keep suspicions low, the CIA asked wealthy aviator Howard Hughes to participate in a fabricated story in which Hughes’s company, Global Marine Development, would announce a salvage ship, the Hughes Glomar Explorer, that was intended to locate minerals on the ocean floor. But in fact, the Glomar (a contraction of Global Marine) was a ship designed to grab the Soviet sub like an arcade claw machine paws at a stuffed animal.

 

The mission, which was finally completed in 1974, was not terribly successful: The U.S. was able to retrieve only a portion of the hull, which harbored few intelligence secrets. Worse, Hughes’s office had been burglarized and mention of his CIA affiliation was leaked to press. When the media pressed the CIA for more information, the agency realized it had a problem—it couldn’t simply dismiss the operation, as evidence was out there. But the sensitive intelligence operation couldn’t be acknowledged, either. The agency had to figure out what not to say, and how not to say it.

 

Their solution was simply to avoid lying or telling the truth with one effective, if inelegant, statement. The agency told reporters that it “can neither confirm nor deny the existence of the information requested, but hypothetically, if such information were to exist, the subject matter would be classified and could not be disclosed.”

 

This was a very effective way of maintaining secrecy while not appearing to broadcast a huge lie to American media or to citizens. It quickly became known as the Glomar response, and later by the acronym NCND, for “neither confirm nor deny.”

 

It’s worth noting that the language didn’t originate with the CIA. A newspaper reporter’s questions over a silent traffic speed monitoring system in Warwickshire, England, in 1936 drew a similar answer from an officer: “I can neither confirm nor deny the report that the ‘silent’ control system is to be dropped,” he said. Other mentions date back to the 1800s, with various lawmakers, politicians, and others tap-dancing around pointed questions by deploying the statement.

 

Denying Confirmation of Denial

As the years went on, the need to formally respond to FOIA requests made NCND a go-to answer for federal agencies. (The CIA is not the only agency to make use of the tactic. Requests for sensitive information sent to the FBI or Department of Defense, for example, might trigger the same sentiment, if not the exact phrasing.)

 

Typically, an NCND will be deployed if a request for information violates or otherwise interferes with matters of national security, personal data, or matters pertaining to law enforcement as well as whether the existence of those documents is itself a classified fact. One may not, for example, expect anything other than a Glomar if one were to write the FBI asking for the names and addresses of people in the witness protection program.

 

There are workarounds. According to the National Archives, a requestor might challenge or appeal an NCND by informing the responding agency that the requested records have already been confirmed to exist or that permission has been granted by the party whose privacy is of concern.

 

NCND isn’t relegated to federal use. The New York Police Department drew criticism in 2017 for invoking it in response to queries about its surveillance of political and religious groups. The sentiment from critics was that NCND could become less about matters of national security and more about keeping law enforcement safe from public scrutiny.

 

While the phrase is a textbook example of bone-dry bureaucracy in action, the CIA is fully committed to the bit. When the agency debuted its official Twitter account in 2014, it tweeted that “We can neither confirm nor deny that this is our first Tweet.”

 

 

Source: Where Did the Phrase ‘Neither Confirm Nor Deny’ Come From?

Edited January 28 by DarkRavie

[DarkRavie]

Fact of the Day - 1897 SNOWBALL FIGHT

 

Did you know.... As you can see in this historical film captured in late-19th century France, humans have always enjoyed a little romp in the snow—corseted or not.

 

People in the Victorian era had a reputation for being stuffy and humorless. (Their stern-faced portraits can certainly make them seem so, at least). But sometimes, we get a glimpse behind the facade, showing us their all-too-relatable moments of silliness and humor.

 

In Bataille de neige (Snow Battle), we get one such glimpse. Filmed in 1897 by the Lumière brothers, pioneers in the recently invented art form of videography, this 1-minute silent film depicts an energetic snowball fight along an avenue in Lyon, France. From the start, men and women alike pelt each other with balls of fallen snow. If there are any teams, they’re quickly lost in the chaos—that is, until the perfect victim appears. A man riding his bike right down the middle of the street is swarmed on both sides by people who bombard him with snowballs, laughing all the while. The poor man is thrown from his bike and his hat goes flying, landing several feet away in the snow. In his stumbling rush to turn around and pedal away, he leaves the accessory there and lets the chaos continue to unfold behind him.

 

 

 

Bataille de neige was, of course, originally filmed in black and white. It was filmed on a cinematograph, a large all-in-one device combining the abilities to capture photos and video, process the film, and project it. But due to the newness of movie technology and Bataille de neige’s subsequent low frame rate, it was also fairly choppy, making a potentially frustrating viewing experience for modern audiences. Then, in 2020, Bataille de Neige was colorized and enhanced using the AI-powered software DeOldify, producing a clip of remarkable visual and historical quality. After watching the updated silent film at the top of the article, you can check out the original version in black and white below.

 

 

Source: Colorized Footage Captures Massive Snowball Fight From 1897

[DarkRavie]

Fact of the Day - POTATOES

Did you know.... It’s a common misconception that potatoes hail from Ireland, or elsewhere in Europe, but they were actually first cultivated in the New World — specifically, South America’s Andean region. Archaeologists uncovered fossilized sweet potatoes in Peru’s Chilca Canyon dating back to around 8080 BCE, making them the oldest known remains of domesticated tubers. There’s also evidence of potatoes having grown along Peru’s coast some 4,000 years ago, as well as along the shores of Lake Titicaca (an area shared by modern-day Bolivia and Peru) roughly 2,500 years ago.

 

The earliest spuds were cultivated by ancient civilizations that inhabited the Andes, including the Aymara, who settled on the Titicaca Plateau no later than 1500 BCE. The Aymara managed to grow more than 200 potato varieties, despite extreme heights and adverse climatic conditions. Potatoes were also a popular crop among the Inca, who used them for pottery, medicine, and even to predict the weather.

 

Potatoes were only introduced to Europe in the 16th century, when they were brought back to the continent by Spanish conquistadors. According to the Irish Potato Federation, the spuds arrived in Ireland between 1586 and 1600 CE, though there’s no written evidence of their early cultivation there. Potatoes, which could be grown in cheap soil, quickly became a staple crop among poorer Irish communities. When the Irish Potato Famine struck in 1845, an estimated 1.5 million Irish fled to the United States to avoid hunger. This largely accounts for why many of us draw a connection between Ireland and potatoes, despite the spud’s South American origins.

 

Mr. Potato Head was the first toy advertised on TV.
On April 30, 1952, a television ad aired to promote the new Mr. Potato Head toy. This marked the first televised toy advertisement and also the first ad to speak directly to children rather than their parents. Mr. Potato Head was originally much different than its modern incarnation. The packaging contained 30 plastic accessories (facial features, hands, feet, etc.) that could be affixed to real potatoes instead of a plastic body.

 

That inaugural advertisement featured a cartoon mascot informing kids about all the fun they could have playing with Mr. Potato Head, and the campaign proved so successful that more than a million kits sold in the first year alone. But in the 1960s, new government safety regulations prohibited the sale of sharp accessories that could, for instance, be stuck into spuds as toys. In response, the Hasbro toy company pivoted and began selling a plastic potato body with premade holes and more kid-friendly accessories.

Source: Potatoes are native to South America, not Ireland.
 

[DarkRavie]

Fact of the Day - ON ONE KNEE

Did you know..... Medieval knights (and Jon Snow of ‘Game of Thrones’) were known to bend the knee, which may have influenced modern-day marriage proposals.

 

If you’re expecting a marriage proposal pretty soon and your partner starts to sink to one knee, you should check to see if their shoe is untied. If it’s not, steel yourself for a certain yes-or-no question.

 

In addition to being a handy heads-up, kneeling to propose presumably has roots in some age-old historical practice—or a combination of several. As MarthaStewart.com points out, people have been genuflecting (derived from Latin for “bending the knee”) to show respect or reverence for thousands of years. It may have originated in the Persian Empire, when proper salutations depended on societal rank. “In the case where one is a little inferior to the other, the kiss is given on the cheek,” Greek historian Herodotus observed in Persia around 430 BCE. “Where the difference of rank is great, the inferior prostrates himself upon the ground.”

 

This greeting system, known as proskynesis, was adopted by Alexander the Great when he took over the empire a century later, and some historians believe that genuflection was part of it. Many of Alexander’s existing Greek and Macedonian subjects disapproved of the new ritual, thinking such gestures should be reserved for gods, so not everybody acquiesced.

 

 

But the idea of genuflection as a sign of deference would prove popular in both religious and secular spheres in the future. Catholics, for example, drop to one knee when facing a tabernacle that contains the Eucharist (wafers blessed to be the body of Jesus). And European warriors knighted after battle often knelt in front of their commander, who dubbed them with a sword.

 

According to Bustle, it’s possible that bending the knee first took on a romantic significance during knights’ heyday. In the 11th century, knights started to form close bonds with ladies of the court—a custom later christened “courtly love.”

 

Since the woman was often already married, the nature of the relationship usually wasn’t sexual, but it was always a serious commitment. Knights pledged themselves to serve and honor their lovers with the same fervor applied to their lords and kings. Guinevere’s romance with Sir Lancelot is a good example of courtly love, as is the tale of Tristan and Isolde (though both of those cases did involve adultery).

 

 

There’s no explicit link between that medieval trend and today’s proposal tradition, but a lot of the artwork depicting courtly love features the man kneeling before the woman—a scene that mirrors many modern-day engagement photos (sans all the armor).

 

In short, bending the knee has long conveyed devotion and humility, which you might want to embody when asking someone to spend eternity with you. But popping the question on two feet doesn’t violate any written-in-stone code of conduct for proposals.

 

Source: Why Do People Propose on One Knee?

[DarkRavie]

Fact of the Day - SAND, ROCK SALT OR KITTY LITTER

Did you know... Which one is best for dealing with snowy sidewalks and roads? It all depends.

 

Driving your car is great for getting from point A to point B, but it can get a little dangerous—especially during the winter season.

 

When temperatures drop below freezing, the moisture on roads turns into ice, and it can start to snow from above. These conditions can increase the risk of accidents—or just getting stuck on the side of the road or in the driveway. (It happens to the best of us.)

 

If you keep winter driving supplies—like flares, blankets, flashlights, jumper cables, and other cold weather gear—in your car’s trunk, you should be able to navigate an icy situation easily. Whether you want to gain some extra traction on snow and ice or just melt it, having rock salt, sand, or just basic cat litter can help immensely.

 

But is there actually a difference? And more specifically, is one better than the alternatives if you’re stuck in a snowbank? Let’s take a closer look at all three below.

 

ROCK SALT

If you’re looking for a quick way to melt ice—especially over large areas like a driveway—then rock salt is probably the best option. It’s chemically formulated, usually with either sodium chloride or calcium chloride, to help deice roadways in low temperatures by lowering the freezing point of water, which can keep ice from forming.

 

Because sodium chloride is often the active ingredient, it’s similar to table salt in a sense, though rock salt crystals are usually much bigger. The substance can work wonders during a blizzard, but there are some big caveats. Rock salt usually adds to environmental pollution and can be corrosive on cars over time, as well as damaging to plants and grass. Not only that, but it can be toxic to animals, so it’s not ideal for all folks, especially those with pets at home.

 

SAND

Sand is a popular alternative to using rock salt on snowy roadways because it doesn’t typically cause the same kind of damage to cars, plants, or the environment overall (though it isn’t entirely eco-friendly, either). Sand also tends to stick around, so it’s great if you need your tires to have extra grip on snowy roads. You can also sprinkle it on paths or sidewalks that are already frozen over, and it should provide some much-needed extra traction.  

 

But, on the downside, sand doesn’t melt snow or ice, so if you’re looking for a deicing agent, it won’t be of much assistance during any snowstorms. It’s also very messy and can be a hassle to clean, especially seeing as most experts recommend pre-wetting it before use, which can increase the chances that it’ll stick to your shoes and boots.

 

KITTY LITTER

All out of sand but still need your tires to get a grip? Don’t worry—just go for some kitty litter. Though it might seem odd at first glance, kitty litter can come in handy if you’re trying to navigate paths that have been iced over.

 

Similar to sand, litter won’t melt ice. But because it’s made up of such granular bits—some cat litter types may be made of natural materials like corn, wheat, or pine, while others are made up of clays and/or silica gel—it can provide some much-needed traction for tires. Unlike rock salt, it’s also safe to use around pets.

 

That said, kitty litter can be just as annoying as sand to clean up. It absorbs moisture, turning snowy paths into sludge-like messes before long. If the winter weather falls below freezing, it also becomes less effective at soaking up moisture. But if all you need it for is some extra grip on your car tires, kitty litter can be a very worthwhile alternative.

 

Source: Sand vs. Rock Salt vs. Kitty Litter: Which One Is Better on Icy Roads?

[DarkRavie]

Fact of the Day - ELIZABETH FREEMAN

Did you know.... Freeman used the newly passed Massachusetts Constitution to her advantage.

 

At a time of immense change in the United States, Elizabeth Freeman served as a beacon of hope for enslaved people everywhere when she changed the course of history in Massachusetts. 

 

The Case for Freedom
It’s hard to nail down the precise details of Freeman’s life—much of what we know about her was written down by people close to her or later historians, but not recorded by Freeman herself. Known as “Mum Bett,” Freeman was, depending on the source, either born into slavery in the 1740s or sold into it at just 6 months old. She was later given to the Ashley family of Sheffield, Massachusetts. Freeman had no rights as an enslaved person and lived a life of hard domestic labor in the Ashley home, where she looked after the family’s children and took care of housekeeping and gardening responsibilities. 

 

The Ashleys were not kind to Freeman. At one point, Hannah Ashley became angry at Freeman’s sister and moved to strike her with a hot coal shovel (some sources claim Freeman’s daughter, not sister, was the intended target). Freeman intervened and was hit instead, an act that left a large burn on her arm. She wore the scar publicly for the rest of her life as a testament to the cruelty she faced. 

 

Freeman soon saw a way out of her situation. In 1780, the Constitution of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts was officially adopted, and with it came a new possibility for enslaved people in the commonwealth to take back their freedom. In addition to emphasizing the separation of powers into three distinct branches (executive, legislative, and judicial), the constitution also asserted individual rights and liberties, including the declaration that “all men are born free and equal.”  

 

 

Upon hearing this statement cried out in the town center, Freeman became angry at the hypocrisy of her enslavement as the town cheered for their new constitution. The next day, she went to the home of a local lawyer named Theodore Sedgwick and demanded justice for herself, saying, “I heard that paper read yesterday, that says all men are born equal and that every man has a right to freedom. I am not a dumb critter; won’t the law give me my freedom?”

 

Freeman told Sedgwick that she wanted to sue the Commonwealth of Massachusetts for her freedom. The young lawyer agreed to represent her. 

 

The Trial That Led to Freedom
Not long after Freeman made it clear she was suing Massachusetts, a man enslaved by the Ashleys joined her cause. Sedgwick brought the case, Brom and Bett v. Ashley, to the Berkshire Court of Common Pleas in May 1781. By this time, there had been about 30 suits led by enslaved people attempting to gain their freedom due to technicalities in the established system. Unlike those cases, Sedgwick argued in Brom and Bett v. Ashley that the new Massachusetts Constitution prohibited slavery and Mum Bett (Freeman) and Brom were not Ashley’s property. It was considered a pivotal “test case” for the document. Sedgwick obtained a court order (writ of replevin) directing John Ashley to release Freeman and Brom, but he refused.

 

By August 1781, their case moved to the County Court of Common Pleas of Great Barrington. There, Sedgwick successfully argued that the Massachusetts Constitution banned slavery. On August 22, 1781, the jury declared Freeman and Brom free. 

 

After being granted her freedom, Mum Bett changed her name to the one we know now: Elizabeth Freeman. She later found employment as a paid worker for the Sedgwick household and became a prominent midwife in the community. At the time of her death in 1829, she counted a home, 20 acres of land, and some money among her possessions. Hundreds of people came to her funeral to pay their respects. 

 

Source: Elizabeth Freeman, the Formerly Enslaved Woman Who Successfully Sued for Her Freedom

[DarkRavie]

Fact of the Day - THE BOONIES?

Did you know... We have the military to thank. It’s an expression we’ve been using since the mid-1950s—when someone talks about “the boonies,” they mean “the countryside.” But when people first spoke of “the boonies” more than seven decades ago, they meant the jungles of southeast Asia.

 

From the Military to the Mainstream
Originally, boonies was a military slang term coined by U.S. troops serving in the Vietnam War. Back then, the word was applied to the remote forests of the Vietnamese wildness, as opposed to the built-up streets of Saigon and the country’s other towns and cities. Only once that meaning was established in English in the postwar United States did boonies come to be used more loosely to refer to anywhere that was just as wild, remote, or out of the way—especially when compared to cities and other urban areas. Writing of the town of Garapan in Saipan (an island in the Pacific where a key World War II battle took place) in 1954, New Hampshire’s Portsmouth Herald noted that “The jungle—everyone here calls it the boonies—has taken over.” 

 

 

But where did those U.S. troops pick up the word in the first place? It was a colloquial shortening of boondock, or boondocks—a word that, according to Etymology Online, was adopted into English shortly after the turn of the last century from Tagalog, one of the languages of the Philippines. In Tagalog, bundok means “mountain,” and it seems that word also came to be used more loosely in English in reference to any remote place during the American occupation of the Philippines in the early 20th century.

 

The use of boondocks among the U.S. military ultimately endured, and led to the word being taken across to Vietnam, where it was first clipped to boonies in the 1950s. The word was also incorporated into at least one additional term; a 1965 TIME magazine article notes that “BOONIES, short for boondocks, is an unaffectionate term for the back country where the fighting and the living are rough. BOONIES NUMBAH TEN THOU’ describes the la Drang Valley,” where the first major battle of the Vietnam War occurred.

 

Other Boon Words
It might be tempting to assume that boondock and boonies are related to similar words, but that’s not the case. Boon, meaning “a favor” (and later “a gift”) dates back to the 12th century and came into English from Old Norse. Oddly, that boon isn’t related to the adjective boon, meaning “jovial” (which today only really survives in the stock expression boon companion, meaning “a friend who can always be relied on for a good time”). This boon was borrowed from French, and is the none too distant English cousin of bon, the French word for “good.”

 

And no one is quite sure where boondoggle—which today means “A trivial, useless, or unnecessary undertaking; wasteful expenditure,” according to the Oxford English Dictionary—comes from, but it began to be used around the 1930s. The OED’s first citation, from a 1935 issue of the The New York Times, says “‘Boon doggles’ is simply a term applied back in the pioneer days to what we call gadgets today,” but another reference from that same year notes that it was “a name given to the braided leather lanyard made and worn by Boy Scouts.”

 

Source: Why Do We Call the Country “the Boonies”?