A recent article in the journal Physical Review E explores what kind of paper is most likely to give you paper cuts. The answer: dot-matrix paper. Followed by magazine pages.
The likelihood of cutting has to do with the thickness of the paper. Too thin and the paper buckles instead of cutting. Too thick and it indents material rather than slicing it. There's a specific range in between too thick and too thin where the paper cuts.
For the purpose of their research, the authors created a "papermachete" which they used to cut apples, bananas, chicken, etc. (see image below).
March 1968: Robert McDavid, a junior at Schulte High School in Terre Haute, Indiana, performed a heart transplant on a live rabbit for his science fair project. School administrators had approved his project. In fact, they applauded it as highly topical since the first successful human heart transplantation had been performed just the year before by the South African surgeon Christiaan Barnard.
After performing the operation, McDavid measured the length of time that the rabbit's body functioned with the new organ. He later exhibited the results of his project at the Regional Science Fair of Indiana State University and received an award for creativity in his field.
Questioned by reporters, McDavid revealed that he had prepared for the procedure by first conducting a number of practice operations, including skin grafts and bone section transplants on chickens. He said that he had also read a number of books about transplants and had conducted interviews with several physicians.
I haven't been able to track down if McDavid went on to become a surgeon.
The "46 reasons" were actually one reason based on flawed science.
A 1967 study had shown that LSD could cause a two-fold increase in chromosomal breaks in cell cultures. But subsequent studies showed that the breaks were a result of the concentrations of the drug being used — and that pretty much ANY substance, in similar concentrations, would cause chromosomal breaks. In fact, there was no evidence that LSD caused significant chromosomal breaks or was a carcinogen.
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
Humming causes the eye to vibrate and this can produce a strobo-scopic effect when a rotating black and white strobe disk is viewed in non-fluctuating light.
I'm sure that's interesting, but it's a response to Rushton's article published four months later that I find more interesting. A former member of the Air Training Corps described how it was possible, by humming (or rather, "purring"), to make your head vibrate such that, when looking at a spinning propeller, the propeller would seem to stop in mid-air. By increasing or decreasing the intensity of humming/purring, one could then determine in which direction the propeller was rotating.
I haven't tested this out to see if it works, but if any of you do have a chance to test it out, please report back with your results.
PTFE, a plastic commonly known as Teflon®, can be used to supplement volume in the diet by mixing the raw material (virgin PTFE powder) into food. Because PTFE is heat resistant, its mixing into food can take place before or after cooking. PTFE is soft and contributes no flavor (evident by its use in tongue piercings) and hence does not detract from the eating experience. It is also resistant to the strongest acids (PTFE containers are used industrially for storing acids) and therefore will not be degraded by stomach acid. It is extremely inert (widely considered to be the most inert material known) so it will not react within the body. It has a low coefficient of friction so that it will not scratch the lining of the gastrointestinal (GI) tract during transport. Because of its chemical and physical properties and long history of use and contact with humans, PTFE is widely considered a very safe material. It is extensively used in medical devices (for instance, a large portion of the artificial blood vessel grafts that have been successfully implanted into people for decades are made from pure PTFE). For these reasons, PTFE is an ideal material for use as a nonmetabolized food volume bulking agent.
July 1966: The mathematician Mervyn Stone published an article in the journal Nature that analyzed "the optimal speed and posture to adopt when caught without protection in a rain shower."
The article itself is mostly gobbledygook to me, but apparently he concluded that if the rain is coming from behind you then "walk forward leaning backwards." While if you're walking into the rain then "lower the head and walk as fast as possible."
Patent No. 6,415,009 (granted in 2002) is titled, "Method for producing a coiled body for irradiating radioactive radiation."
What could it mean to irradiate radioactive radiation? When I came across the phrase I had to stop and think about it.
The text of the patent unfortunately didn't provide any clarification, although it did reveal that all this irradiating is being done in the context of brachytherapy (from wikipedia: "a form of radiation therapy where a sealed radiation source is placed inside or next to the area requiring treatment").
The phrase "radioactive radiation" actually does make sense to me. Radiation is a catch-all term for the emission of any kind of electromagnetic energy. So 'radioactive radiation' would be high-energy or ionizing radiation, as opposed to, say, low-energy heat radiation.
But I'm still confused what they mean by irradiating radioactive radiation? Does it mean to make radioactive radiation even more radioactive?
Or are they misusing the word 'irradiate'? My dictionary indicates that 'irradiate' means either to be exposed to radiation or to be illuminated by radiation. The sun radiates or emits light, and the earth is irradiated by its light.
So did the patentees mean 'emitting' rather than 'irradiating'? I'm just not sure. If anyone can figure out what the phrase means, let me know.
A type specimen is a preserved specimen designated as a permanent reference for a new species, new genus or some other taxon. The type is the first specimen bearing the new scientific name, and the one true example of the species.
Biologists have amassed type specimens for hundreds of thousands of different species. But by the mid-twentieth century it had occurred to some of them that they were missing a type specimen for one very important species: Homo sapiens.
In 1959, the botanist William Stearn offered a solution to this problem: Make Carl Linnaeus, the founder of modern taxonomy, the type specimen for all of humanity.
The story is told by Jason Roberts in Every Living Thing (his new biography of Carl Linnaeus):
The concept of type specimen is central to Linnean taxonomy. Since a species is defined by a physical description, that description necessarily requires looking at a physical object (either a preserved specimen or a detailed illustration). This object becomes the "type," the fixed standard by which all subsequent specimens are identified as "typical" of the species.
The methodology had relaxed somewhat in the first part of the twentieth century, with some scientists substituting instead a syntype, a listing of several examples of a species, none of which had priority over the other. But Stearn was writing in light of a recent crackdown. The keepers of the International Code of Botanical Nomenclature had announced a return to Linnean orthodoxy: All new species would henceforth again be defined by a single instance only, called either a holotype (if chosen by the first describer of the species) or a lectotype (if chosen at a later date). Linnaeus's specimens became holotypes as soon as he used them in compiling Systema Naturae... Its specimens were the definitive examples- the embodiments, so to speak- of their respective species.
Yet Linnaeus had neglected to collect the type specimen of one important species. He had never supplied a holotype for Homo sapiens, and for that matter had defined the species only with the terse phrase nosce te ipsum, Latin for "know yourself." Stearn proposed a novel means of correcting this omission. Since "the specimen most carefully studied and recorded by the author is to be accepted as the type," he wrote, the appropriate lectotype was obvious. Linnaeus had presumably examined himself for decades, even if only by glancing in the mirror while shaving.
"Clearly," Stearn concluded, "Linnaeus himself. .. must stand as the type of his Homo sapiens!"
Seven years later the International Committee on Zoological Nomenclature adopted Stearn's suggestion and officially made the body of Linnaeus (entombed in Uppsala Cathedral) the type specimen for all of humanity.
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.