If you don’t know The zeFrank Show is it’s time to find out. As part of this video zeFrank shares an awesome story about the painting a lily.
There’s a really good thread on Quora: what are the most gripping stories in human history?
The top-rated story is about Dashrath Majhi. The nearest town to get treatment for his wife was 70km. She died as a result of her illness and Majhi decided that distance would no longer be the reason that some one that did not get the help they needed:
From Wikipedia:
Dashrath Manjhi’s claim to fame has been the herculean task of single-handedly carving a 360-foot-long (110 m), 25-foot-high (7.6 m) and 30-foot-wide (9.1 m) road by cutting a mountain of Gehlour hills with a hammer, chisel and nails working day and night for 22 years from 1960 to 1982. This passage reduced the distance between Atri and Wazirganj blocks of Gaya district from 70 km to just 7 km.
I didn’t realize that the poster was never publicly released.
(via Kottke
I’d heard the Bureaucracy in the Planet of the Apes, but not this one:
As an example, an interesting story comes to mind. I once read in a psychology publication about a young mother who always slices the ends off the meat loaf before placing it on a dish to serve her family: she doesn’t know why she does it —only because her mother did it that way. When her mother is asked why she sliced off the ends of the meat loaf before serving the family, she only knows that her mother did it that way. When the elderly grandma is asked why she sliced off the ends of the meat loaf before serving it to the family she answers that she sliced the ends off to make it fit into the only serving tray she had at the time. Namaste.
The ceramics teacher announced on opening day that he was dividing the class into two groups. All those on the left side of the studio, he said, would be graded solely on the quantity of work they produced, all those on the right solely on its quality.
His procedure was simple: on the final day of class he would bring in his bathroom scales and weigh the work of the “quantity” group: fifty pound of pots rated an “A”, forty pounds a “B”, and so on. Those being graded on “quality”, however, needed to produce only one pot”albeit a perfect one”to get an “A”.
Well, came grading time and a curious fact emerged: the works of highest quality were all produced by the group being graded for quantity. It seems that while the “quantity” group was busily churning out piles of work”and learning from their mistakes”the “quality” group had sat theorizing about perfection, and in the end had little more to show for their efforts than grandiose theories and a pile of dead clay.
from Art and Fear via LifeClever
Edward R.Tufte, super presenter and information graphics guru described a talk given by a humble high school math teacher to a lecture hall full of mathematics professors. On his first slide, the math teacher had a simple proof, with an error on the third line. Naturally, the professors leaned forward in their chairs to point out the flaw. For the rest of the presentation, the audience hung on every word, waiting for the next slip.
Of course, there was no slip.
Caution: if you use this technique, you had better know your stuff.
Mr. Yamaguchi was on the last day of a business trip. Just as he was about to leave he realized that he’d forgotten something a rushed back to work. The date was August 6, 1945 at 8:15 in the city of Hiroshima.
Mr. Yamaguchi survived the dropping of the atomic bomb by the US with burns, temporary blindness and temporary loss of hearing. Two day he finally was able to get home where he received treated for his injuries. The next day he went into work (!). The date was August 9 in the city of Nagasaki.
Mr, Yamaguchi is the only person to hold double survivor status recognized by the Japanese government. He finally died of stomach cancer in January 2010. Later in life he became an outspoken advocate of nuclear war.
Read the a more complete story on Wikipedia
Interesting read. I can’t believe how many people missed the boat on Pixar. It could almost be made in to an animated movie…
During my years at college, I learned many techniques for making the perfect pitcher of Kool-aid. I like to focused on making sure all the sugar grains were properly dissolved by adding a small amount of water to the kool-aid mix and stirring, making a think syrup, once that was done, I’d add water to taste.
My roomate George made his Kool-aid with hot water and stuck it in the freezer.
My other roommate made the Kool-aid with a practiced eye, and almost zen like quality from years of study and practice.
Over those years I became an addict not only to the Kool-aid but a slave to the process that it took to create the product.
The one thing I learned, and a lesson that I have never forgotten, was because of a discussion with my brother over our shared addition with Kool-aid.
He claimed he knew how to make the perfect pitcher of Kool-aid. I didn’t believe him, every one was of the opinion that “they” made the perfect pitcher of Kool-aid.
“Okay, what’s the perfect way”, I challenged.
He pointed to the back of the package. “The instructions”, he said simply. His thought process went like this: Kool-aid probably spend millions on R&D to figure out the right amount sugar, water and mix, why on earth should he spend time re-inventing the wheel.
I was speechless.
Since that revelation, even though my addictions is years behind me, I rarely rarely don’t take the time to read and follow directions.
Fantastic book from one of my favorite authors. Here is a short anecdote from the book. It is a conversation between Nobody Owens (Bod) and Nehemiah Trot a poet and ghost. in this passage Bod ask Trot about revenge.
“..Oh I had my revenge, Master Owens, and it was a terrible one. I wrote, and had published a letter…I would henceforth write not for them, but only for myself and posterity, and that I should, as long as I lived publish no more poems — for them! Thus I left instructions that upon my death my poems were to be buried with me, unpublished, and that only when posterity realized my genius…only then was my coffin to be disinterred, only then could my poems be removed from my cold dead hand, to finally be published to the approbation and delight of all. It is a terrible thing to be ahead of your time.”
“And after you died, they dug you up, and printed your poems?” [asked Bod]
“Not yet, no. But there is plenty of time. Posterity is vast”
Get The Graveyard Book
