The Sonata of Sleep wasn't a musical composition. Instead it was a building designed (but never built) in the 1930s by Soviet architect Konstantin Melnikov. He envisioned it as a place where Soviet workers could enjoy scientifically-enhanced sleep. Details from Cabinet magazine:
“Without sleep,” Melnikov argued, “fresh air will do little for our health.” He devised a building in which hundreds of workers could partake of its benefits at the same time. Named “Sonata of Sleep”—a pun on son, the Russian word for sleep or dream—the building consisted of two large dormitories either side of a central block containing washrooms. The dormitories had sloping floors, to obviate the need for pillows, and the beds were to be built-in “like laboratory tables,” in the words of Frederick Starr, author of the standard monograph on Melnikov. Starr goes on to describe the further pains Melnikov took over the ambiance:
At either end of the long buildings were to be situated control booths, where technicians would command instruments to regulate the temperature, humidity, and air pressure, as well as to waft salubrious scents and “rarefied condensed air” through the halls. Nor would sound be left unorganized. Specialists working “according to scientific facts” would transmit from the control centre a range of sounds gauged to intensify the process of slumber. The rustle of leaves, the cooing of nightingales, or the soft murmur of waves would instantly relax the most overwrought veteran of the metropolis. Should these fail, the mechanized beds would then begin gently to rock until consciousness was lost.
Model of Melnikov's Sonata of Sleep image source: interwoven
This product was not subject to atomic radiation, but rather a different process. In the 1930s, to fight rickets, scientists sought to increase the Vitamin D content in milk through the application of ultraviolet rays.
Making matters worse, while experiments showed milk to be an ideal source for getting vitamin D into the diets of American children, prolonged exposure to ultraviolet light tended to give fluid milk a foul odor and an off-putting taste. On top of that, any excess heat had the counterproductive effect of destroying the milk’s vitamin A.
But finally, science found a way!
But, of course, for both political and nutritional reasons, finding a way to deliver vitamin D dairy products remained the ultimate prize. After years of testing, Steenbock, Scott and their collaborators finally determined a three-part scheme for fortifying milk. First, dairy cows could be fed with irradiated feed to produce higher levels of vitamin D. Second, industrial machines constructed by companies like Creamery Package Manufacturing and Hanovia Chemical allowed large-scale irradiation of fluids while minimizing the negative effects on taste and smell.12 Third, irradiated ergosterol could be mixed into the final product as a tasteless additive.13
Jackson Whitlow made headlines in 1937 by fasting for 52 days. He did it because he said God had told him to. He broke his fast with elderberry wine and squirrel broth.
About a year later God told Whitlow to live in a cave. His condition rapidly deteriorated and by the start of 1939 he was dead. According to Whitlow, this was also "the Lord's will".
I wrote this article about eight years ago for a site that has now gone dark. So I'm reposting it here.
The Internet has made many animals famous, such as Grumpy Cat, Darwin the Ikea Monkey, and Sockington the Twitter Cat. But as this brief list suggests, Internet-famous animals tend to be either pets or species that biologists describe as "charismatic" — meaning ones that people can easily identify with. Insects don't get much love.
This hasn't always been the case. If we look back to 1932, we find an example of a spider that achieved overnight celebrity status, with the media producing daily reports of its adventures. It's the curious case of the "spider in a clock."
The Spider First Noticed
The spider's rise to fame began on the morning of November 20, 1932 at 552 Parker Ave in Barberton, Ohio (a suburb of Akron). Louise Thompson rolled over in bed, turned off her alarm clock, and then noticed a "tiny black dot" moving across the face of the timepiece.
Closer examination by her husband, Cyril, revealed that the dot was a small spider. It had somehow gotten into the space between the face of the clock and the glass, and it was attempting to spin a web between the minute and hour hands. It succeeded in briefly attaching a fine thread of gossamer between the two hands, but as the minute hand slowly advanced the thread broke. No matter. The spider climbed up the face of the clock and began its effort all over again, only to have the thread broken for a second time. The couple watched as the spider continued to repeat this cycle over and over.
The next morning the spider was still there, still trying to build its ill-fated web. And it remained there the day after, and the day after that.
The Thompsons shared the story of the clock-battling spider with their neighbors, and soon people started dropping by to see it. Eventually, someone contacted the media.
Media Fame
By the time a reporter first saw the spider — around December 7, 1932 — the insect had grown to the size of an ordinary house spider, and the hands of the clock were covered with fine threads.
How had the spider managed to grow without any obvious source of food? And how had it gotten into the clock in the first place? These were the mysteries that the spider presented.
The reporter interviewed the Thompson's two children. Young tommy thought the spider was boring, but his sister, Mary Louise, was fascinated by it, admiring the way it kept at its task despite constant defeat. She said, "He must be awfully brave."
Wilkes Barre Times Leader - Dec 10, 1932
Evidently much of the American public agreed with Mary Louise, because after the first story about the spider (distributed by the Associated Press) appeared in papers, interest in the arachnid swelled. The media responded by providing daily details of its adventures.
Paul Di Filippo
Paul has been paid to put weird ideas into fictional form for over thirty years, in his career as a noted science fiction writer. He has recently begun blogging on many curious topics with three fellow writers at The Inferior 4+1.