Futility Closet

On February 1, 1959, something terrifying overtook nine student ski-hikers in the northern Ural Mountains. In this episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll recount what is known about the incident at Dyatlov Pass and try to make sense of the hikers' harrowing final night. We'll also hear how Dwight Eisenhower might have delivered the Gettysburg Address and puzzle over why signing her name might entitle a woman to a lavish new home. Sources for our feature on the Dyatlov Pass incident: Donnie Eichar, Dead Mountain: The Untold True Story of the Dyatlov Pass Incident, 2013. "Yuri Yudin," Daily Telegraph, April 30, 2013, 25.   Here's the investigators' description of the hikers' tent as it was discovered: "Tent site is located on the Northeastern slope of mountain 1079 (Kholat Syakhl official term) meters at the mouth of river Auspiya. Tent site is located 300 meters from the top of the mountain 1079 with a slope of 30°. Test site consists of a pad, levelled by snow, the bottom of which are contains 8 pairs of skis (for tent support and insulation). Tent is stretched on poles and fixed with ropes. On the bottom of the tent 9 backpacks were discovered with various personal items, jackets, rain coats, 9 pairs of shoes. There were also found men's pants, and three pairs of boots, warm fur coats, socks, hat, ski caps, utensils, buckets, stove, ax, saw, blankets, food: biscuits in two bags, condensed milk, sugar, concentrates, notebooks, itinerary and many other small items and documents, camera and accessories to a camera. The nature and form of all (...) lesions suggest that they were formed by contact with the canvas inside of the tent with the blade of some weapon (presumably a knife)." This is the final exposure in hiker Yuri Krivonishchenko's camera. Possibly the image was exposed on the final night, or possibly weeks afterward, inadvertently, by technicians. Lead investigator Lev Ivanov wrote that the hikers' cameras gave him "abundant information based on negative density, film speed ... and aperture and exposure settings," but that they did not "answer the main question -- what was the reason of escape from the tent." Here's journalist Oliver Jensen's rendering of the Gettysburg Address in "Eisenhowese." Jensen provided his original to Dwight Macdonald for his 1961 collection Parodies: An Anthology. "The version below is the original as given me by Jensen, with two or three variations in which The New Republic's version [of June 17, 1957] seemed to me to have added a turn of the screw": I haven’t checked these figures but 87 years ago, I think it was, a number of individuals organized a governmental set-up here in this country, I believe it covered certain Eastern areas, with this idea they were following up based on a sort of national independence arrangement and the program that every individual is just as good as every other individual. Well, now, of course, we are dealing with this big difference of opinion, civil disturbance you might say, although I don’t like to appear to take sides or name any individuals, and the point is naturally to check up, by actual experience in the field, to see whether any governmental set-up with a basis like the one I was mentioning has any validity and find out whether that dedication by those early individuals will pay off in lasting values and things of that kind. Well, here we are, at the scene where one of these disturbances between different sides got going. We want to pay our tribute to those loved ones, those departed individuals who made the supreme sacrifice here on the basis of their opinions about how this thing ought to be handled. And I would say this. It is absolutely in order to do this. But if you look at the over-all picture of this, we can't pay any tribute -- we can't …

In 1943 three men came up with an ingenious plan to escape from the seemingly escape-proof Stalag Luft III prison camp in Germany. In this episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll learn about their clever deception, which made them briefly famous around the world. We'll also hear about the chaotic annual tradition of Moving Day in several North American cities and puzzle over how a severely injured hiker beats his wife back to their RV. Sources for our feature on the escape from Stalag Luft III: Eric Williams, The Wooden Horse, 1949. The Wooden Horse, British Lion Film Corporation, 1950. Oliver Philpot, Stolen Journey, 1952. Here's the movie: It became the third most popular film at the British box office in 1950. The book's success led Williams to write The Tunnel, a prequel that described his and Michael Codner's earlier escape from the Oflag XXI-B camp in Poland. Sources for listener mail: Ian Austen, "When a City Is on the Move, With Mattresses and Dishwashers in Tow," New York Times, July 1, 2013. Localwiki, Davis, Calif., "Moving Day" (accessed April 16, 2015). Samara Kalk Derby, "Happy Holiday or Horror Story? Moving Day Hits UW," Wisconsin State Journal, Aug. 15, 2011. City of Madison Streets & Recycling, "August Moving Days" (accessed April 16, 2015). This week's lateral thinking puzzle was contributed by listener David White and his daughter Katherine. This episode is sponsored by our patrons and by The Great Courses -- go to http://www.thegreatcourses.com/closet to order from eight of their best-selling courses at up to 80 percent off the original price. You can listen using the player above, download this episode directly, or subscribe on iTunes or via the RSS feed at http://feedpress.me/futilitycloset. Please consider becoming a patron of Futility Closet -- on our Patreon page you can pledge any amount per episode, and all contributions are greatly appreciated. You can change or cancel your pledge at any time, and we've set up some rewards to help thank you for your support. You can also make a one-time donation via the Donate button in the sidebar of the Futility Closet website. Many thanks to Doug Ross for the music in this episode. If you have any questions or comments you can reach us at podcast@futilitycloset.com. And you can finally follow us on Facebook and Twitter. Thanks for listening!

It's been called America's oldest mystery: A group of 100 English colonists vanished from North Carolina's Roanoke Island shortly after settling there in 1587. But was their disappearance really so mysterious? In this episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll trace the history of the "lost colony" and consider what might have happened to the settlers. We'll also visit an early steam locomotive in 1830 and puzzle over why writing a letter might prove to be fatal. Sources for our feature on the lost colony at Roanoke: James Horn, A Kingdom Strange: The Brief and Tragic History of the Lost Colony of Roanoke, 2011. Karen Ordahl Kupperman, Roanoke: The Abandoned Colony, 2007. Giles Milton, Big Chief Elizabeth: The Adventures and Fate of the First English Colonists in America, 2011.  Lee Miller, Roanoke: Solving the Mystery of the Lost Colony, 2013. Fanny Kemble wrote of her encounter with an early locomotive in a letter dated Aug. 26, 1830 ("A common sheet of paper is enough for love, but a foolscap extra can alone contain a railroad and my ecstasies"). It appears in her 1878 memoir Records of a Girlhood. She sat alongside engineer George Stephenson, who explained his great project and with whom she fell "horribly in love." At one point on their 15-mile journey they passed through a rocky defile: You can't imagine how strange it seemed to be journeying on thus, without any visible cause of progress other than the magical machine, with its flying white breath and rhythmical, unvarying pace, between these rocky walls, which are already clothed with moss and ferns and grasses; and when I reflected that these great masses of stone had been cut asunder to allow our passage thus far below the surface of the earth, I felt as if no fairy tale was ever half so wonderful as what I saw. This week's lateral thinking puzzle was contributed by listener Blaine, who sent this corroborating link (warning -- this spoils the puzzle). This episode is sponsored by our patrons and by The Great Courses -- go to http://www.thegreatcourses.com/closet to order from eight of their best-selling courses at up to 80 percent off the original price. You can listen using the player above, download this episode directly, or subscribe on iTunes or via the RSS feed at http://feedpress.me/futilitycloset. Please consider becoming a patron of Futility Closet -- on our Patreon page you can pledge any amount per episode, and all contributions are greatly appreciated. You can change or cancel your pledge at any time, and we've set up some rewards to help thank you for your support. You can also make a one-time donation via the Donate button in the sidebar of the Futility Closet website. Many thanks to Doug Ross for the music in this episode. If you have any questions or comments you can reach us at podcast@futilitycloset.com. And you can finally follow us on Facebook and Twitter. Thanks for listening!

For centuries, May 1 brought chaos to New York, as most tenants had to move on the same day, clogging the streets with harried people and all their belongings. In this episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll review the colorful history of "Moving Day" and wonder how it lasted through two centuries. We'll also recount some surprising escapes from sinking ships and puzzle over a burglar's ingenuity. Sources for our feature on Moving Day, New York City's historic custom of changing residence on May 1: Kenneth A. Scherzer, The Unbounded Community: Neighborhood Life and Social Structure in New York City, 1830-1875, 1992. Elizabeth Blackmar, Manhattan for Rent, 1785-1850, 1991. William Shepard Walsh, Curiosities of Popular Customs ... Illustrated, 1897. "Expressmen and Cartmen's Charges -- The Laws Relative Thereto," New York Times, April 14, 1870. "Rich Are Homeless This Moving Day," New York Times, Oct. 1, 1919. "Rain Adds to Gloom of City Moving Day," New York Times, Oct. 2, 1919. "May 1 Moving Rush a Thing of the Past," New York Times, May 2, 1922. In 1890 the New York Times published a list of the maximum prices that city ordinances permitted cartmen to charge: Sources for our feature on oddities in maritime disasters: "Andrea Doria Tragedy Recalled by the Survivors," Associated Press, July 24, 1981. "A Remarkable Maritime Disaster," Scientific American, Nov. 24, 1888. "A Remarkable Collision," New Zealand Herald, July 26, 1884. This week's lateral thinking puzzle was contributed by listener Ken Murphy. You can listen using the player above, download this episode directly, or subscribe on iTunes or via the RSS feed at http://feedpress.me/futilitycloset. Please consider becoming a patron of Futility Closet -- on our Patreon page you can pledge any amount per episode, and all contributions are greatly appreciated. You can change or cancel your pledge at any time, and we've set up some rewards to help thank you for your support. You can also make a one-time donation via the Donate button in the sidebar of the Futility Closet website. Many thanks to Doug Ross for the music in this episode. If you have any questions or comments you can reach us at podcast@futilitycloset.com. And you can finally follow us on Facebook and Twitter. Thanks for listening!

In this week's episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll look at the strange phenomenon of poet doppelgängers -- at least five notable poets have been seen by witnesses when their physical bodies were elsewhere. We'll also share our readers' research on Cervino, the Matterhorn-climbing pussycat, and puzzle over why a man traveling internationally would not be asked for his passport. Sources for our feature on poet doppelgängers: John Oxenford, trans., The Autobiography of Wolfgang von Goethe, 1969. G. Wilson Knight, Byron and Shakespeare, 2002. Julian Marshall, The Life & Letters of Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, 1889. Jon Stallworthy, Wilfred Owen, 2013. W.E. Woodward, The Gift of Life, 1947. The stories are recounted in the corresponding posts on Futility Closet: Goethe, Byron, Shelley, Owen, Powys. Listener mail: Little House of Cats has a photo of Cervino, the (purported) Matterhorn-scaling kitty cat of 1950. The Daily Mail has photos of Millie, Utah mountaineer Craig Armstrong's rock-climbing cat. More at Back Country. Further data on cat rambles: BBC News, "Secret Life of the Cat: What Do Our Feline Companions Get Up To?", June 12, 2013 (accessed March 26, 2015). National Geographic, "Watch: How Far Do Your Cats Roam?", Aug. 8, 2014 (accessed March 26, 2015). This week's lateral thinking puzzles are from Kyle Hendrickson's 1998 book Mental Fitness Puzzles. You can listen using the player above, download this episode directly, or subscribe on iTunes or via the RSS feed at http://feedpress.me/futilitycloset. Please consider becoming a patron of Futility Closet -- on our Patreon page you can pledge any amount per episode, and all contributions are greatly appreciated. You can change or cancel your pledge at any time, and we've set up some rewards to help thank you for your support. You can also make a one-time donation via the Donate button in the sidebar of the Futility Closet website. Many thanks to Doug Ross for the music in this episode. If you have any questions or comments you can reach us at podcast@futilitycloset.com. And you can finally follow us on Facebook and Twitter. Thanks for listening!

In this week's episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll follow the dramatic 14,000-mile clipper ship race of 1866, in which five ships competed fiercely to be the first to London with the season's tea. We'll also track the importance of mulch to the readers of the comic book Groo the Wanderer and puzzle over the effects of Kool-Aid consumption on a woman's relationships. Jack Spurling's 1926 painting Ariel & Taeping, China Tea Clippers Race, above, depicts two of the front-runners in the closely contested 1866 race to carry the season's first tea from China to London. The winner remained uncertain throughout the 14,000-mile course; the Shipping and Mercantile Gazette declared it "the closest run ever recorded ... an event of unprecedented occurrence." Our sources for that segment: Basil Lubbock, The China Clippers, 1914. Mike Dash, "The Great Tea Race of 1866," smithsonian.com, Dec. 15, 2011 (accessed March 16, 2015). The Shipping and Mercantile Gazette, Sept. 12, 1866. John T. Irwin, Hart Crane's Poetry, 2011. Filing Cabinet of the Damned reports on the significance of mulch to Groo the Wanderer. This week's lateral thinking puzzle was submitted by listener Nick Madrid. This episode is sponsored by our patrons and by The Great Courses -- go to http://www.thegreatcourses.com/closet to order from eight of their best-selling courses at up to 80 percent off the original price. You can listen using the player above, download this episode directly, or subscribe on iTunes or via the RSS feed at http://feedpress.me/futilitycloset. Please consider becoming a patron of Futility Closet -- on our Patreon page you can pledge any amount per episode, and all contributions are greatly appreciated. You can change or cancel your pledge at any time, and we've set up some rewards to help thank you for your support. You can also make a one-time donation via the Donate button in the sidebar of the Futility Closet website. Many thanks to Doug Ross for the music in this episode. If you have any questions or comments you can reach us at podcast@futilitycloset.com. And you can finally follow us on Facebook and Twitter. Thanks for listening!

In 1950 newspapers around the world reported that a 10-month-old kitten had climbed the Matterhorn, one of the highest peaks in Europe. In this week's episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll wonder whether even a very determined kitty could accomplish such a feat. We'll also marvel at a striking demonstration of dolphin intelligence and puzzle over a perplexed mechanic. My own original post about Matt, the kitten who climbed the Matterhorn, appeared on Dec. 17, 2011. Reader Stephen Wilson directed me to this page, which rehearses the original London Times story (from Sept. 7, 1950) and adds a confirming account from a Times reader that appeared on Sept. 10, 1975. Further sources: "A Cat Climbs the Matterhorn," Miami News, Oct. 19, 1950 (reprinting an editorial, I think, from the San Francisco Chronicle). "Cat-Climbing on the Matterhorn," Sydney Morning Herald, Sept. 9, 1950. "Mere Kitten Conquers Matterhorn," Spokane Daily Chronicle, Sept. 7, 1950. Here's a photo of the Solvay hut at 12,556 feet, where the kitten reportedly spent the first night of its three-day climb: Sources for our feature on porpoise trainer Karen Pryor: Karen Pryor, Lads Before the Wind, 1975. Thomas White, In Defense of Dolphins: The New Moral Frontier, 2008. This week's lateral thinking puzzle was submitted by listener David White. This episode is sponsored by our patrons and by The Great Courses -- go to http://www.thegreatcourses.com/closet to order from eight of their best-selling courses at up to 80 percent off the original price. Also by Loot Crate -- go to http://www.lootcrate.com/CLOSET and enter code CLOSET to save $3 on any new subscription. You can listen using the player above, download this episode directly, or subscribe on iTunes or via the RSS feed at http://feedpress.me/futilitycloset. Please consider becoming a patron of Futility Closet -- on our Patreon page you can pledge any amount per episode, and all contributions are greatly appreciated. You can change or cancel your pledge at any time, and we've set up some rewards to help thank you for your support. You can also make a one-time donation via the Donate button in the sidebar of the Futility Closet website. Many thanks to Doug Ross for the music in this episode. If you have any questions or comments you can reach us at podcast@futilitycloset.com. And you can finally follow us on Facebook and Twitter. Thanks for listening!

In 1935 a shark in an Australian aquarium vomited up a human forearm, a bizarre turn of events that sparked a confused murder investigation. This week's episode of the Futility Closet podcast presents two cases in which a shark supplied key evidence of a human crime. We'll also learn about the Paris Herald's obsession with centigrade temperature, revisit the scary travel writings of Victorian children's author Favell Lee Mortimer, and puzzle over an unavenged killing at a sporting event. Sources for our feature on the shark arm affair: Andrew Tink, Australia 1901-2001: A Narrative History, 2014. Dictionary of Sydney, "Shark Arm murder 1935," accessed March 5, 2015. "Arm-Eating Shark Bares Weird Killing," Pittsburgh Press, July 9, 1935. "Shark Gives Up Clue to Murder," Milwaukee Journal, July 9, 1935. "'Shark Arm' Murder Mystery Still Baffles Australian Police," Toledo Blade, Dec. 14, 1952. The 1799 episode of the Nancy's forged papers appears in (of all places!) Allan McLane Hamilton's 1910 biography The Intimate Life of Alexander Hamilton (Hamilton appeared for the United Insurance Company in the case). It's confirmed in Xavier Maniguet's 2007 book The Jaws of Death: Sharks as Predator, Man as Prey. Apparently both the "shark papers" and the shark's jaws were put on public display afterward and are now in the keeping of the Institute of Jamaica; I gather the case made a sensation at the time but has largely been forgotten. Sources for our feature on James Gordon Bennett and the "Old Philadelphia Lady": The International New York Times, "Oct. 5, 1947: Old Philadelphia Lady Said It 6,718 Times," Oct. 14, 2013. James B. Townsend, "J.Gordon Bennett, Editor by Cable," New York Times, May 19, 1918. Mark Tungate, Media Monoliths, 2005. This week's lateral thinking puzzle was submitted by listener Lily Geller, who sent this corroborating link (warning -- this spoils the puzzle). This episode is sponsored by our patrons and by Loot Crate -- go to http://www.lootcrate.com/CLOSET and enter code CLOSET to save $3 on any new subscription. You can listen using the player above, download this episode directly, or subscribe on iTunes or via the RSS feed at http://feedpress.me/futilitycloset. Please consider becoming a patron of Futility Closet -- on our Patreon page you can pledge any amount per episode, and all contributions are greatly appreciated. You can change or cancel your pledge at any time, and we've set up some rewards to help thank you for your support. You can also make a one-time donation via the Donate button in the sidebar of the Futility Closet website. Many thanks to Doug Ross for the music in this episode. If you have any questions or comments you can reach us at podcast@futilitycloset.com. And you can finally follow us on Facebook and Twitter. Thanks for listening!

Victorian children's author Favell Lee Mortimer published three bizarre travel books that described a world full of death, vice, and peril. In this week's episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll sample her terrifying descriptions of the lands beyond England and wonder what led her to write them. We'll also review the movie career of an Alaskan sled dog, learn about the Soviet Union's domestication of silver foxes, and puzzle over some curious noises in a soccer stadium. Favell Lee Mortimer's travel books for children are all available online: The Countries of Europe Described (1850) Far Off, or, Asia and Australia Described (1852) Far Off, or, Africa and America Described (1854) In 2005 Todd Pruzan published a collection of the most xenophobic passages, titled The Clumsiest People in Europe: Or, Mrs. Mortimer's Bad-Tempered Guide to the Victorian World. Listener mail: Here's a BBC documentary on 1925 serum run to Nome: Fast Company has an article about the breeding of friendly foxes by Russian researchers. And National Geographic goes into greater depth regarding the genetics and evolutionary aspects of domestication in this 2011 article. This week's lateral thinking puzzle was submitted by listener David White, who sent these corroborating links (warning -- these spoil the puzzle). You can listen using the player above, download this episode directly, or subscribe on iTunes or via the RSS feed at http://feedpress.me/futilitycloset. Please consider becoming a patron of Futility Closet -- on our Patreon page you can pledge any amount per episode, and all contributions are greatly appreciated. You can change or cancel your pledge at any time, and we've set up some rewards to help thank you for your support. You can also make a one-time donation via the Donate button in the sidebar of the Futility Closet website. Many thanks to Doug Ross for the music in this episode. If you have any questions or comments you can reach us at podcast@futilitycloset.com. And you can finally follow us on Facebook and Twitter. Thanks for listening!

In 1925, Nome, Alaska, was struck by an outbreak of diphtheria, and only a relay of dogsleds could deliver the life-saving serum in time. In this week's episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll follow the dogs' desperate race through arctic blizzards to save the town from epidemic. We'll also hear a song about S.A. Andree's balloon expedition to the North Pole and puzzle over a lost accomplishment of ancient civilizations. Our segment on the 1925 serum run to Nome was based chiefly on Gay Salisbury and Laney Salisbury's excellent 2003 book The Cruelest Miles. Here's the statue of Balto, who led the final sled into Nome, in Central Park: The inscription reads "Dedicated to the indomitable spirit of the sled dogs that relayed antitoxin 600 miles over rough ice, across treacherous waters, through arctic blizzards, from Nenona to the relief of stricken Nome." "The Ballad of Knut and Nils," Yann and Cory Seznec's song honoring S.A. Andrée's disastrous 1897 attempt to reach the North Pole by balloon, is on Yann's blog. You can find more of the brothers' music here. This week's lateral thinking puzzle is from Paul Sloane and Des McHale's 1998 book Ingenious Lateral Thinking Puzzles. Sloane invites interested readers to his Lateral Puzzles Forum, where visitors can set and solve these puzzles interactively. This week's episode is sponsored by our patrons and by Harry's -- go to Harrys.com now and they'll give you $5 off if you use the coupon code CLOSET with your first purchase. You can listen using the player above, download this episode directly, or subscribe on iTunes or via the RSS feed at http://feedpress.me/futilitycloset. Please consider becoming a patron of Futility Closet -- on our Patreon page you can pledge any amount per episode, and all contributions are greatly appreciated. You can change or cancel your pledge at any time, and we've set up some rewards to help thank you for your support. You can also make a one-time donation via the Donate button in the sidebar of the Futility Closet website. Many thanks to Doug Ross for the music in this episode. If you have any questions or comments you can reach us at podcast@futilitycloset.com. Thanks for listening!

When Ewart Grogan was denied permission to marry his sweetheart, he set out to walk the length of Africa to prove himself worthy of her. In this week's episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll find out whether Ewart's romantic quest succeeded. We'll also get an update on the criminal history of Donald Duck's hometown, and try to figure out how a groom ends up drowning on his wedding night. Sources for our segment on Ewart Grogan's traversal of Africa: Ewart Scott Grogan and Arthur Henry Sharp, From the Cape to Cairo: The First Traverse of Africa From South to North, 1902. Edward Paice, Lost Lion of Empire: The Life of Cape-to-Cairo Grogan, 2001. Julian Smith, Crossing the Heart of Africa: An Odyssey of Love and Adventure, 2010. Norman Wymer, The Man from the Cape, 1959. Martin Dugard, The Explorers, 2014. Brian O'Brien, "All for the Love of a Lady," in The Best of Field and Stream: 100 Years of Great Writing from America's Premier Sporting Magazine, 2002. "One Incredibly Long Church Aisle," Times Higher Education, June 15, 2001. "A Man Who Did Derring-Do," Telegraph, March 31, 2001. Listener Ed Kitson directed us to this letter from Jane Baillie Welsh to Thomas Carlyle, dated May 7, 1822, in which she writes, "I am not at all the sort of person you and I took me for." And listener Alex Klapheke sent us a copy of Swiss criminologist Karl-Ludwig Kunz's 2004 paper "Criminal Policy in Duckburg," from Images of Crime II: Representations of Crime and the Criminal in Politics, Society, the Media, and the Arts, edited by Hans-Jörg Albrecht, Telemach Serassis, and Harald Kania. This week's lateral thinking puzzle was contributed by listener Price Tipping. You can listen using the player above, download this episode directly, or subscribe on iTunes or via the RSS feed at http://feedpress.me/futilitycloset. Please consider becoming a patron of Futility Closet -- on our Patreon page you can pledge any amount per episode, and all contributions are greatly appreciated. You can change or cancel your pledge at any time, and we've set up some rewards to help thank you for your support. You can also make a one-time donation via the Donate button in the sidebar of the Futility Closet website. Many thanks to Doug Ross for the music in this episode. If you have any questions or comments you can reach us at podcast@futilitycloset.com. Thanks for listening!

In 1897, Swedish patent engineer S.A. Andrée set out in a quixotic bid to reach the North Pole in a hydrogen balloon, departing from Norway with two companions and hoping to drift over the top of the world and come down somewhere in the Bering Strait. Instead the expedition vanished. In this episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll learn what happened to the Eagle and its three brave passengers, and consider the role of hindsight in the writing of history. We'll also learn what the White House planned to do if Neil Armstrong became stranded on the moon, and puzzle over why seeing a plane flying upside down would impact a woman's job. Sources for our segment on S.A. Andrée's attempt to reach the North Pole by balloon: Henri Lachambre and Alexis Machuron, Andrée and His Balloon, 1898. George Palmer Putnam, Andrée: The Record of a Tragic Adventure, 1930. Swedish Society for Anthropology and Geology, Andrée's Story, 1930. Swedish Society for Anthropology and Geology, The Andrée Diaries, 1931. Alec Wilkinson, The Ice Balloon: S.A. Andrée and the Heroic Age of Arctic Exploration, 2011. Here's the Eagle after its downfall, as recorded by Nils Strindberg's cartographic camera. Even if he'd succeeded, Andrée's bid would have tested the limits of balloon flight: 750 miles separated Spitzbergen from the pole, and the three men would have had to cross another thousand miles to reach the Bering Strait. To get to the pole and then safely back to land in almost any direction would have meant traveling 1,500 miles aloft, and a balloon must travel almost always directly to leeward. Here's the eulogy that William Safire prepared for Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin in the event they became stranded on the moon in July 1969: Fate has ordained that the men who went to the moon to explore in peace will stay on the moon to rest in peace. These brave men, Neil Armstrong and Edwin Aldrin, know that there is no hope for their recovery. But they also know that there is hope for mankind in their sacrifice. These two men are laying down their lives in mankind’s most noble goal: the search for truth and understanding. They will be mourned by their families and friends; they will be mourned by the nation; they will be mourned by the people of the world; they will be mourned by a Mother Earth that dared send two of her sons into the unknown. In their exploration, they stirred the people of the world to feel as one; in their sacrifice, they bind more tightly the brotherhood of man. In ancient days, men looked at the stars and saw their heroes in the constellations. In modern times, we do much the same, but our heroes are epic men of flesh and blood. Others will follow, and surely find their way home. Man’s search will not be denied. But these men were the first, and they will remain the foremost in our hearts. For every human being who looks up at the moon in the nights to come will know that there is some corner of another world that is forever mankind. The last line is an allusion to Rupert Brooke's 1914 poem "The Soldier": If I should die, think only this of me: That there's some corner of a foreign field That is for ever England. There shall be In that rich earth a richer dust concealed; A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware, Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam, A body of England's, breathing English air, Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home. And think, this heart, all evil shed away, A pulse in the eternal mind, no less Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given; Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day; And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness, In hearts at peace, under an English heaven. This week's lateral thinking puzzle was contributed by listener David White, who sent these related links (warning -- th…

As a young man, Benjamin Franklin drew up a "plan for attaining moral perfection" based on a list of 13 virtues. Half a century later he credited the plan for much of his success in life. In this episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll explore Franklin's self-improvement plan and find out which vices gave him the most trouble. We'll also learn how activist Natan Sharansky used chess to stay sane in Soviet prisons and puzzle over why the Pentagon has so many bathrooms. Sources for our segment on Benjamin Franklin's 13 virtues: Benjamin Franklin, Autobiography, 1791. Gordon S. Wood, The Americanization of Benjamin Franklin, 2005. Dinah Birch, ed., The Oxford Companion to English Literature, 2009. Here's Franklin's list of virtues: Temperance. Eat not to dullness; drink not to elevation. Silence. Speak not but what may benefit others or yourself; avoid trifling conversation. Order. Let all your things have their places; let each part of your business have its time. Resolution. Resolve to perform what you ought; perform without fail what you resolve. Frugality. Make no expense but to do good to others or yourself; i.e., waste nothing. Industry. Lose no time; be always employ'd in something useful; cut off all unnecessary actions. Sincerity. Use no hurtful deceit; think innocently and justly; and, if you speak, speak accordingly. Justice. Wrong none by doing injuries, or omitting the benefits that are your duty. Moderation. Avoid extreams; forbear resenting injuries so much as you think they deserve. Cleanliness. Tolerate no uncleanliness in body, cloaths, or habitation. Tranquillity. Be not disturbed at trifles, or at accidents common or unavoidable. Chastity. Rarely use venery but for health or offspring, never to dullness, weakness, or the injury of your own or another's peace or reputation. Humility. Imitate Jesus and Socrates. And here's a sample page from his "little book":   Related: As an exercise in penmanship, the teenage George Washington copied out "110 rules of civility and decent behavior in company and conversation," and Thomas Jefferson once sent a "decalogue of canons for observation in practical life" to the new father of a baby boy. Listener mail: Human rights activist Natan Sharansky's use of mental chess to keep himself sane in Soviet prisons is detailed in his 1988 memoir Fear No Evil and in this BBC News Magazine article. Greg's research queries: The authority on jumping up steps at Trinity College, Cambridge, seems to be G.M. Trevelyan, who became Master there in 1940. In his Trinity College: An Historical Sketch (1972), he writes: It is a well-authenticated Trinity tradition that Whewell, when Master, jumped up the hall steps at one leap, a feat that is very seldom accomplished even by youthful athletes. Sir George Young told his son Geoffrey Young that he had actually witnessed this performance; Sir George said that the master, in cap and gown, found some undergraduates trying in vain to accomplish the feat. He clapped his cap firmly on his head, took the run, and reached the top of the steps at one bound. In a letter to the Times on March 16, 1944, he writes, "On a recent visit to Cambridge, General Montgomery, on entering the Great Court at this college, pointed to the hall steps and said to me, ‘Those were the steps my father jumped up at one bound.’ The general’s father, Henry Hutchinson Montgomery, afterwards Bishop, was an undergraduate at Trinity from 1866 to 1870. He came here from Dr Butler’s Harrow with a great reputation as a runner and jumper." He adds, "Now we have a fully authenticated case of which I had not heard. Bishop Montgomery himself told his son the general, and the story was often told in the family. The general has asked me to send the facts to you in the hope that publication may …

(Image: Wikimedia Commons) In this episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll tell how Spanish authorities found an ingenious way to use orphans to bring the smallpox vaccine to the American colonies in 1803. The Balmis Expedition overcame the problems of transporting a fragile vaccine over a long voyage and is credited with saving at least 100,000 lives in the New World. We'll also get some listener updates to the Lady Be Good story and puzzle over why a man would find it more convenient to drive two cars than one. Sources for our segment on the Balmis expedition: J. Antonio Aldrete, "Smallpox Vaccination in the Early 19th Century Using Live Carriers: The Travels of Francisco Xavier de Balmis," Southern Medical Journal, April 2004. Carlos Franco-Paredes, Lorena Lammoglia and José Ignacio Santos-Preciado, "The Spanish Royal Philanthropic Expedition to Bring Smallpox Vaccination to the New World and Asia in the 19th Century," Clinical Infectious Diseases, Nov. 1, 2005. Catherine Mark and José G. Rigau-Pérez, "The World's First Immunization Campaign: The Spanish Smallpox Vaccine Expedition, 1803-1813," Bulletin of the History of Medicine, Spring 2009. John W.R. McIntyre, "Smallpox and Its Control in Canada," Canadian Medical Association Journal, Dec. 14, 1999. Pan-American Health Organization: The Balmis-Salvany Smallpox Expedition: The First Public Health Vaccination Campaign in South America (accessed Jan. 18, 2015). Listener Roger Beck sent these images of the memorial and propeller from the Lady Be Good in Houghton, Mich.: And listener Dan Patterson alerted us to ladybegood.net, an impressive and growing repository of information about the "ghost bomber," including the recovered diaries of co-pilot Robert Toner and flight engineer Harold Ripslinger and some ingenious reconstructions of the lost plane's flight path after the nine crewmen bailed out. This week's lateral thinking puzzle was submitted by listener David White, who sent these corroborating links (warning -- these spoil the puzzle). You can listen using the player above, download this episode directly, or subscribe on iTunes or via the RSS feed at http://feedpress.me/futilitycloset. Please consider becoming a patron of Futility Closet -- on our Patreon page you can pledge any amount per episode, and all contributions are greatly appreciated. You can change or cancel your pledge at any time, and we've set up some rewards to help thank you for your support. You can also make a one-time donation via the Donate button in the sidebar of the Futility Closet website. Many thanks to Doug Ross for the music in this episode. If you have any questions or comments you can reach us at podcast@futilitycloset.com. Thanks for listening!

The American bomber Lady Be Good left North Africa for a bombing run over Italy in 1943. It wasn't seen again until 15 years later, when explorers discovered its broken remains deep in the Libyan desert. In this episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll review the strange history of the lost aircraft and trace the desperate last days of its nine crewmen. We'll also climb some twisted family trees and puzzle over the Greek philosopher Thales' struggles with a recalcitrant mule. Sources for our segment on the Lady Be Good: Mario Martinez, Lady's Men, 1995. Dennis E. McClendon, The Lady Be Good: Mystery Bomber of World War II, 1962. Above: The Lady Be Good as she was discovered 440 miles southeast of Benghazi, in remarkably good condition for a plane that had landed itself with one working engine and then lain in the desert for 15 years. The tires on the nose wheel and one of the main landing wheels were undamaged and fully inflated. The crew:  William J. Hatton, pilot; Robert F. Toner, co-pilot; D.P. Hays, navigator; John S. Woravka, bombardier; Harold J. Ripslinger, flight engineer; Robert E. LaMotte, radio operator; Guy E. Shelley Jr., waist gunner; Vernon L. Moore, waist gunner; and S.E. Adams, tail gunner. Hatton, the leader, was probably the first to die. Five months before his posting to Libya, he had written to his mother, "There are about four places they can send me. Arizona, Idaho, and Spokane or Tacoma, Washington. I am sitting here waiting to see which one it is. I hope it isn't Arizona because I am tired of sand." Listener mail: Our Dec. 21 post "A Man His Own Grandfather," reprinting an 1868 item about a man whose stepdaughter marries his father, follows a similar post from 2009, "Proof That a Man Can Be His Own Grandfather," which includes a diagram. The song "I'm My Own Grandpa" was released by Lonzo & Oscar in 1947. This cover version includes a diagram that explains the relationships: Thanks to reader David Wright for sending a link to an article in Geneaology Magazine that traces the history of the idea, and to reader Mark Williamson for sharing his own convoluted family tree: My own mother was an only child, whose father died when she was 9 years old. Her mother then remarried an older man who had several children (and they went on to have several more together). My maternal grandmother's younger brother was in the military, and when home on leave fell in love with one of my mother's stepsisters, and they got married and had children of their own. So my grandmother's brother was my great-uncle, and his wife was my great-aunt, and their children were my second cousins, but he was also my uncle because he was married to my aunt (my mother's stepsister) and their children were my first cousins. And their father was also their great-uncle, since he was their grandmother's brother, and therefore their mother was their great-aunt since she was married to their great-uncle. And since they were their great-aunt's children, that made them their own second cousins. The first of this week's two lateral thinking puzzles was inspired by a chance encounter with N.L. Mackenzie's article "The Nastiness of Mathematicians" in the Pi Mu Epsilon Journal (vol. 9, no. 10, Spring 1994) while toiling at NC State this week. It's not certain that the story actually befell Thales; the same story is told in Aesop's fable "The Salt Merchant and His Ass." The second puzzle is drawn from Eliot Hearst and John Knott's excellent 2009 book Blindfold Chess and from Miguel Najdorf's New York Times obituary (warning: this spoils the puzzle). Hearst and Knott's website explains how Najdorf's longstanding record of 45 blindfold games played simultaneously was broken in 2011 by Marc Lang of Günzburg, Germany. Lang played 46 games and scored +25,…