Futility Closet

On Dec. 1, 1948, a well-dressed corpse appeared on a beach in South Australia. Despite 66 years of investigation, no one has ever been able to establish who he was, how he came to be there, or even how he died. In this episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll delve into the mystery of the Somerton man, a fascinating tale that involves secret codes, a love triangle, and the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. We'll also hear Franklin Adams praise the thesaurus and puzzle over some surprising consequences of firing a gun. Sources for our segment on the Somerton man: Mike Dash, "The Body on Somerton Beach," Smithsonianmag.com, Aug. 12, 2011 (retrieved Aug. 31, 2014). Lorena Allam, "The Somerton Man: A Mystery in Four Acts," Radio Australia, Feb. 23, 2014. The corpse of a well-dressed, clean-shaven man, 5'11", age 40-45 and in peak physical condition, was discovered on Somerton Beach in Adelaide, South Australia, early on the morning of Dec. 1, 1948. In a fob pocket of the man's trousers the pathologist at the city m

William McGonagall has been called "the only truly memorable bad poet in our language," responsible for tin-eared verse that could "give you cauliflower ears just from silent reading": Alas! Lord and Lady Dalhousie are dead, and buried at last, Which causes many people to feel a little downcast; And both lie side by side in one grave, But I hope God in His goodness their souls will save. In this episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll sample McGonagall's writings, follow the poor poet's sadly heroic wanderings, and wonder whether he may have been in on the joke after all. We'll also consider a South Carolina seventh grader's plea to Ronald Reagan and puzzle over a man's outrageous public behavior. Our segment on William McGonagall, the world's worst poet, is drawn from Norman Watson's beautifully researched 2010 book Poet McGonagall: A Biography. The best online source on McGonagall is Chris Hunt's site McGonagall Online, which contains extensive biographical materials, a map of the poet's travels, and a

On New Year's Day 1886, London grocer Edwin Bartlett was discovered dead in his bed with a lethal quantity of liquid chloroform in his stomach. Strangely, his throat showed none of the burns that chloroform should have caused. His wife, who admitted to having the poison, was tried for murder, but the jury acquitted her because "we do not think there is sufficient evidence to show how or by whom the chloroform was administered." In this episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll learn about Edwin and Adelaide Bartlett's strange marriage and consider the various theories that have been advanced to explain Edwin's death. We'll also sample a 50,000-word novel written without the letter E and puzzle over a sure-footed American's visit to a Japanese office building. Sources for our segment on Adelaide Bartlett and the Pimlico poison mystery: "The Pimlico Poisoning Case," The Times, Feb. 16, 1886, 10. "The Pimlico Poisoning Case," The Times, March 8, 1886, 12. "The Pimlico Mystery," The Observer, March 21, 1886,

On Feb. 9, 1855, the residents of Devon in southern England awoke to find a bewildering set of footprints in the newfallen snow. "These are to be found in fields, gardens, roads, house-tops, & other likely and unlikely places, deeply embedded in snow," ran one contemporary account. "The shape was a hoof." In this episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll examine the surviving descriptions of the odd marks and consider the various explanations that have been offered. We'll also revisit the compassionate Nazi fighter pilot Franz Stigler and puzzle over how to sneak into Switzerland across a guarded footbridge. Our segment on the "devil's hoofmarks" is drawn from Mike Dash's excellent article "The Devil's Hoofmarks: Source Material on the Great Devon Mystery of 1855," which appeared in Fortean Studies 1:1 in 1994. The full text (2MB PDF) is here. The Restricted Data Blog's post on John W. Campbell and his 1941 article “Is Death Dust America’s Secret Weapon?” appeared on March 7, 2014. The comments includ

In December 1943, American bomber pilot Charlie Brown was flying a severely damaged B-17 out of Germany when he looked out the cockpit window and saw "the world's worst nightmare" off his right wing -- a fully armed German fighter whose pilot was staring back at him. In this episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll follow the strange drama that ensued, in which German fighter ace Franz Stigler weighed the human impulse to spare the wounded bomber against his patriotic duty to shoot him down. We'll also consider whether animals follow the 10 commandments and wonder why a man might tell his nephew that his dog will be shot. Our segment on Charlie Brown and Franz Stigler is drawn largely from Adam Makos' 2012 book A Higher Call: The Incredible True Story of Combat and Chivalry in the War-Torn Skies of World War II. The book trailer contains brief interviews with both men: Sources for our segment on Ernest Thompson Seton and the 10 commandments: Ernest Thompson Seton, "The Natural History of the Ten Command

In 1944, fully a year before the first successful nuclear test, Astounding Science Fiction magazine published a remarkably detailed description of an atomic bomb. The story, by the otherwise undistinguished author Cleve Cartmill, sent military intelligence racing to discover the source of his information -- and his motives for publishing it. In this episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll follow the investigation that ensued, which involved legendary editor John W. Campbell and illuminated the imaginative power of science fiction and the role of censorship in times of war. We'll also hear Mark Twain's advice against being too clever and puzzle over the failure of a seemingly perfect art theft. Sources for our segment on Cleve Cartmill: Cleve Cartmill and Jean Marie Stine, Deadline & Other Controversial SF Classics, 2011. Albert I. Berger, "The Astounding Investigation: The Manhattan Project's Confrontation With Science Fiction," Analog, September 1984. Robert Silverberg, "Reflections: The Cleve Cartm

In 1898, 19-year-old W. Reginald Bray made a thorough study of British postal regulations, which laid out rules for mailing everything from bees to elephants and promised that "all letters must be delivered as addressed." He resolved to give the service "a severe test without infringing its regulations." In this episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll review the antics that followed, in which Bray sent turnips, bicycle pumps, shoes, and even himself through the British post. We'll also sympathize with Lucius Chittenden, a U.S. Treasury official who had to sign 12,500 bonds in one harried weekend in 1862, and puzzle over the worrying train journey of a Wall Street banker. Our segment on W.R. Bray, the Edwardian postal experimentalist, is based chiefly on John Tingey's 2010 book The Englishman Who Posted Himself and Other Curious Objects. Tingey maintains a website with an extensive catalog of the curios that Bray sent through the post. Also David Leafe, "The Man Who Posted Himself," Daily Mail, March 19,

In 1942 Navy lieutenant Ernest Cody and ensign Charles Adams piloted a blimp out of San Francisco into the Pacific, looking for Japanese subs. A few hours later the blimp drifted back to land, empty. The parachutes and life raft were in their proper places and the radio was in working order, but there was no trace of Cody or Adams. In this episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll follow the events of that strange day and delve into the inquest that followed. We'll also sample some unpublished items from Greg's trove of Futility Closet research and puzzle over a drink of water that kills hundreds of people. Sources for our segment on the L-8 blimp mystery: Mark J. Price, "60 Years Later, Pilots' Fate Still a Mystery -- 2 Men Aboard Navy Blimp Vanished," Seattle Times, Aug. 18, 2002. Darold Fredricks, "Airships and Moffett Field," San Mateo Daily Journal, July 22, 2013. United Press International, "Goodyear Blimp Retires," July 9, 1982. Some inquest records are available online here. Links mentioned in lis

In 1943 German submarines were devastating the merchant convoys carrying supplies to Britain. Unable to protect them with aircraft or conventional ships, the resource-strapped Royal Navy considered an outlandish solution: a 2-million-ton aircraft carrier made of ice. In this episode of the Futility Closet podcast we follow the strange history of the project, which Winston Churchill initially praised as dazzling but which ended in ignominy at the bottom of a Canadian lake. We'll also discover a love pledge hidden for 200 years in the heart of a Yorkshire tree and puzzle over the deaths of two men in a remote cabin. Our segment on Project Habbakuk is based chiefly on L.D. Cross' 2012 book Code Name Habbakuk. In the photo above, research workers cut ice and form it into beams on Lake Louise near the Chateau Lake Louise resort hotel in 1943. Our post on the Yorkshire inscription appeared on Dec. 18, 2009. Sources for the podcast segment: John Lindley, The Theory and Practice of Horticulture, 1855, citing the Gar

In 1864 Nevada mining merchant Reuel Gridley found a unique way to raise money for wounded Union soldiers: He repeatedly auctioned the same 50-pound sack of flour, raising $250,000 from sympathetic donors across the country. In this episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll discover the origins of Gridley's floury odyssey. We'll also hear H.L. Mencken's translation of the Declaration of Independence into American English and try to figure out where tourism increases the price of electricity. Sources for our story on Reuel Gridley and the flour auction: Ralph Lea and Christi Kennedy, "Reuel Gridley and a Sack of Flour," Lodi [Calif.] News-Sentinel, Sept. 30, 2005. Mark Twain, Roughing It, 1872. Here's his monument, in the Stockton Rural Cemetery in California: Image: Wikimedia Commons The empty flour sack is in the collection of the Nevada Historical Society. "The Declaration of Independence in American," by H.L. Mencken, from The American Language, 1921: When things get so balled up that the people of a c

In 1900 three lighthouse keepers vanished from a remote, featureless island in Scotland's Outer Hebrides. The lighthouse was in good order and the log showed no sign of trouble, but no trace of the keepers has ever been found. In this episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll explore the conundrum of the men's disappearance -- a classic mystery of sea lore. We'll also ponder the whereabouts of Robert Louis Stevenson's birthday, admire Esaw Wood's quest for a wood saw that would saw wood, and wonder why drinking a glass of water might necessitate a call to the auto club. Sources for our segment on the Flannan Isles lighthouse: Christopher Nicholson, Rock Lighthouses of Britain, 1983. "The Mystery of Flannan Isle," Northern Lighthouse Board, retrieved June 18, 2014. Mike Dash, "The Vanishing Lighthousemen of Eilean Mór," Fortean Studies 4 (1998). Sources for the story about Robert Louis Stevenson's bequest of his birthday: Robert Louis Stevenson, Sir Graham Balfour, Works, Volume 24, 1905. Elmo Scott Watson,

Stewardess Violet Jessop was both cursed and blessed -- during the 1910s she met disaster on all three of the White Star Line's Olympic class of gigantic ocean liners, but she managed to escape each time. In this episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll accompany Violet on her three ill-fated voyages, including the famous sinkings of the Titanic and the Britannic, and learn the importance of toothbrushes in ocean disasters. We'll also play with the International Date Line and puzzle over the identity of Salvador Dalí's brother. Show notes: University of Chicago economist Steven Levitt discusses his coin-flipping experiment about halfway through this BBC podcast. The associated website is here. We first wrote about Violet Jessop on March 11, 2009. Maritime historian John Maxtone-Graham interviewed her in 1970 for The Only Way to Cross, his 1978 book about the era of ocean liners. When Violet died in 1971 she left a manuscript to her daughters, which, edited by Maxtone-Graham, came to light in 1997 as Titan

Georgia slaves Ellen and William Craft made a daring bid for freedom in 1848: Ellen dressed as a white man and, attended by William as her servant, undertook a perilous 1,000-mile journey by carriage, train, and steamship to the free state of Pennsylvania in the North. In this week's episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll follow the couple's harrowing five-day adventure through the slave-owning South. We'll also discover the best place in the United States to commit a crime and sample the aphoristic poetry of Danish mathematician Piet Hein. Our post on Ellen and Willliam Craft appeared on July 19, 2012. Here are the two as they normally appeared: And here's Ellen dressed as a rheumatism-ridden white man: In order to show her likeness clearly, this image omits the poultice that she wore on her chin. Their book Running a Thousand Miles for Freedom appeared in 1860. Here's an excerpt explaining what awaited them if they were confronted at any point on their 1,000-mile journey: If [a] coloured person ref

The New York Times proposed an outrageous undertaking in 1908: An automobile race westward from New York to Paris, a journey of 22,000 miles across all of North America and Asia in an era when the motorcar was "the most fragile and capricious thing on earth." In this episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll follow the six teams who took up the challenge and attempted "the most perilous trip ever undertaken by man."We'll also see how a tomahawk linked Alec Guinness and Grace Kelly for 25 years and hear poet Louis Phillips lament his wife's handwriting.

Irish practical joker Horace de Vere Cole orchestrated his masterpiece in 1910: He dressed four friends as Abyssinian princes and inveigled a tour of a British battleship. One of the friends, improbably, was Virginia Woolf disguised in a false beard and turban. We'll describe how the prank was inspired and follow the six through their tension-filled visit to the HMS Dreadnought.We'll also examine the value of whistles to Benjamin Franklin and present the next Futility Closet Challenge.

When Albert Marr joined the South African army in 1915, he received permission to bring along his pet baboon, Jackie. In this week's episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll follow Jackie's adventures in England, Egypt, and Belgium, his work for the Red Cross after the war, and his triumphant return to Pretoria in 1919. We'll also meet a Rhode Island lighthouse keeper's daughter who saved the lives of 18 people over a period of 48 years, and present the next Futility Closet Challenge.

After losing his feet in an accident in the 1880s, South Africa railway worker James "Jumper" Wide found an unlikely friend in a baboon named Jack. In this week's episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll learn how Jumper taught Jack to work as a signalman on the railway line, where he won the trust of both authorities and passengers.We'll also meet an Englishman who dreamed the winners of horse races, ponder the strange case of the Stringfellow Acid Pits, and present the next Futility Closet Challenge.

In 1888 a mixed-breed terrier appointed himself mascot of America's railway postal service, accompanying mailbags throughout the U.S. and eventually traveling around the world. In this week's episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll recount Owney's postal adventures and the wave of human affection that followed him.We'll also look at an Air Force pilot who dropped candy on parachutes to besieged German children in 1948, learn the link between drug lord Pablo Escobar and feral hippos in Colombia, and present the next Futility Closet Challenge.

Two weeks before Charles Lindbergh's famous flight, a pair of French aviators attempted a similar feat. Their brave journey might have changed history -- but they disappeared en route. In this week's episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll follow the flight of the "White Bird" -- and ponder what became of it.We'll also examine a proposal to build hippo ranches in the Louisiana bayou in 1910, investigate historical outbreaks of dancing, laughing, and other strange behavior, and present the next Futility Closet challenge.

The 1850s saw a strange experiment in the American West: The U.S. Army imported 70 camels for help in managing the country's suddenly enormous hinterland. In this week's episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll see how the animals acquitted themselves in an unfamiliar land under inexperienced human masters.We'll also learn a surprising theory regarding the origin of zebra stripes; follow the further adventures of self-mailing ex-slave Henry "Box" Brown; ask whether a well-wrought piano can survive duty as a beehive, chicken incubator, and meat safe; and present the next Futility Closet Challenge.