Month: March 2025

From WTOL-11: “A Michigan resident died from rabies after receiving a transplanted organ in Lucas County earlier this year, according to the Toledo-Lucas County Health Department. Dr. Carl Schmidt, a deputy coroner, said the recipient, who had undergone a kidney transplant in December, contracted the viral disease through the donated organ. The University of Toledo Medical Center released a statement Wednesday afternoon, saying “A patient receiving care at The University of Toledo Medical Center died in January 2025 of rabies. That patient underwent a deceased donor organ transplant in late 2024 at UTMC. Person-to-person transmission of rabies is extremely rare, though it has been documented in a very small number of cases involving organ transplantation.” A media representative for OPTN told WTOL 11 that this is the third time that rabies has been transmitted through transplanted organs.

He pretended to go to jail as a prank and then got arrested and sent to prison for real

From NY Mag: “Last October, William Banks posted on Instagram that he was looking for a subletter: $1,025 a month for eight months in a prewar building in Crown Heights with three roommates. “I’m leaving New York for a little while because unfortunately I have to go to jail in Connecticut,” Banks told everyone. Banks had been arrested at the end of 2023 in Westport for stealing five Israeli lawn flags. Banks, 28, a comedian by trade, focuses on extended and absurd bits that play out on social media and refuse to wink at the camera. In real life, Banks agreed to a plan in Connecticut that would result in the charge getting wiped from his record if he agreed to 200 hours of community service and two years of probation as well as taking a psychiatric evaluation and a hate-crime class. But for their show on social media, the gang rented a disused jail outside Miami for a five-hour shoot, hiring a friend from Detroit to play Banks’s cellmate.”

Note: This is a version of my When The Going Gets Weird newsletter, which I send out via Ghost, the open-source publishing platform. You can see other issues and sign up here.

Continue reading “A transplant patient died of rabies from a donated kidney”

From LARB: “An early 20th-century journalist and travel writer, William Seabrook was once among the most successful wordsmiths of his day, a progenitor of both gonzo journalists and contemporary Vice contributors, his work anticipating the former by decades and the latter by almost a century. He joined camel raids in Arabia, attended voodoo rites in Haiti — after which he helped popularize the word “zombie” — and supped with cannibal kings in Africa. Along the way, he became friendly with Aleister Crowley, James Joyce, Gertrude Stein, and many other notorious figures of his era. Committed to telling stories as truthfully as he could, he would later bribe a French morgue attendant to slice off a bit of neck flesh from a cyclist killed in an accident. Have you heard that human flesh resembles veal? You likely learned as much from Seabrook, who had the cut prepared three different ways by the chef of an acquaintance.”

John Tesh came up with the melody for the NBA theme and left it on a voicemail for himself

From Why Is This Interesting? “Tesh was traveling to cover the Tour de France in 1989 when he woke up suddenly in Megève, France, with an idea. Knowing how easily it could vanish, he called his own answering machine back home in the States to capture it, humming energetically into the phone. When he returned home, Tesh took this voicemail, placed the answering machine literally onto his keyboard, and began riffing, gradually bringing in his band to turn a rough voice memo into the iconic, polished composition. The kicker: NBC had put out the call for a new NBA theme song to legendary composers like John Williams and Hans Zimmer. But against the odds, they chose the enthusiastic melody that Tesh first captured in a half-awake voicemail, cementing it as the NBA’s iconic musical signature for more than a decade, becoming the soundtrack to Michael Jordan’s reign and the league’s growth through the 1990s.”

Note: This is a version of my When The Going Gets Weird newsletter, which I send out via Ghost, the open-source publishing platform. You can see other issues and sign up here.

Continue reading “This gonzo journalist from the ’30s said he ate human flesh”

From ProPublica: “Early last year, Matthew Allison could be found at the Space Banana dance club, awkwardly swaying to his own beat. Clutching the cheapest house beer, he’d greet people with a bear hug, a broad grin and his familiar, “Yo, bro!” salutations. Allison, then a 37-year-old convenience store worker and Saturday-night DJ, seemed to like everyone he met in Boise, Idaho’s small electronic dance music scene. And most people seemed to like him back. He was so gentle, former friends remember, that for a time he eschewed honey so as not to cause harm to bees. He was “a little goofy,” a former friend, Tyler Whitt, recalled. But that lovable persona hid a more sinister core. When he was behind his computer screen, Allison used the handle BTC, short for BanThisChannel, he told ProPublica. On the social media and messaging platform Telegram, authorities say, Allison was a key figure in a network of white supremacist and neo-Nazi chat groups and channels known as Terrorgram.”

He nearly drowned on his way to inventing the ubiquitous side-release buckle

From Tedium: “I’ve been thinking a lot about fasteners, especially side-release clamps. You know the kind. The plastic buckles where you use two fingers to press in, and the two pieces of plastic disconnect from one another. It’s everywhere, and this is probably the first time you’ve heard someone talk about it. Who came up with the idea of side-release clamps? Surprisingly for an object of such ubiquity, the answer is simple: It was conceived by just one inventor, a guy who shares a name with a hero plucked from the funnies. Dick Tracy of Illinois has explained how a white-water rafting incident got him thinking about the importance of easy-access latches. At the time, hiking backpacks had stabilizing chest straps that were loop-through—and hard to remove with a single hand. Fortunately for him, he was in a position to do something about it. He worked for Illinois Tool Works (ITW), a major manufacturing firm, and he had been tasked with coming up with new product lines that could bring in millions of dollars.”

Note: This is a version of my When The Going Gets Weird newsletter, which I send out via Ghost, the open-source publishing platform. You can see other issues and sign up here.

Continue reading “A DJ’s secret life at the center of an online terrorism network”

Until a couple of years ago, you couldn’t turn around without running into an academic article, university department, or even an entire nonprofit organization devoted to the evils of misinformation and its more sinister cousin, disinformation. Over the past decade or so, Facebook and YouTube have both been accused of distributing massive quantities of both misinformation (accidentally false facts) and disinformation (deliberately false facts), that some say have played a key role in a host of different problems, from the Rohingya genocide in Myanmar or the election of Donald Trump to anti-vaccine hysteria. YouTube in particular has been accused of “radicalizing” the vulnerable by sending them down disinfo “rabbit holes” about everything from 9/11 to the pyramids. And Facebook was widely criticized for saying in 2020 that it didn’t want to become an “arbiter of truth” by taking down posts with misinformation.

The amount of research in this area has declined of late, in part because of the chilling effect from lawsuits and threats issued by members of the Trump administration, who see the topic of disinformation as a cover for censorship of conservative views. Academic entities — including the Stanford Internet Observatory — have either been shut down or dramatically downsized as a result. This is obviously bad, but I think in some ways it represents the chickens coming home to roost, after years of focusing on the sources of disinformation rather than trying to think about the root cause — in other words, seeing it primarily as a supply issue rather than a demand issue. This results in everyone spending most of their time beating up on suppliers like X and Facebook and YouTube, none of which helps to solve the underlying problems.

As Trump and his right-wing acolytes gained traction, they reversed the polarity on the disinformation debate: instead of a well-intentioned attempt to convince Facebook and X and other platforms that they should care about the spread of false information about important topics like COVID, it became about a “woke” mob — including the Biden administration — that was forcing Facebook and the other platforms to censor free speech (I’ve written about the lawsuits launched by the Trump government and Republicans in Congress over the First Amendment implications of what is known as “jawboning,” or attempts by officials to influence the decisions made by platforms). And once Trump was elected, companies like Meta and Google have shown that they are more than happy to jump on that bandwagon and apologize for their prior behavior.

Note: This is a version of my Torment Nexus newsletter, which I send out via Ghost, the open-source publishing platform. You can see other issues and sign up here.

Continue reading “Disinformation isn’t a supply problem it’s a demand problem”

From Wikipedia: “James Carter was born in 1925 to a Mississippi sharecropping family and as a young man was several times an inmate of the Mississippi prison system. In 1959, Carter was a prisoner in a Mississippi State Penitentiary when Alan Lomax recorded him leading a group of prisoners singing “Po’ Lazarus”, an African-American work song, while chopping logs in time to the music. The recording was issued on volume nine of Bad Man Ballads in Lomax’s 1959 Southern Journey LP series. Decades later, the recording was licensed for use in the Coen brothers’ film O Brother, Where Art Thou? and topped the Billboard charts for weeks. Lomax’s daughter Anna found Carter in Chicago and flew there to personally present him with a $20,000 royalty check.”

This religion is dying out because it refuses to explain itself or evangelize

From The Dial: “The last thing a metal worker from Liège is expected to do is found a new religion. Yet that is just what Louis-Joseph Antoine did, in Jameppe-sur-Meuse, Belgium, in 1910. Antoinism, his namesake religion, is not nearly as popular today as it was in its early years. Bernard is an Antoinist healer, a sort of parish priest for the movement. He is elegant, slightly balding and quick to smile. His pseudonym is not intended to protect his identity, but to preserve the discretion about Antoinism required by his Council. Other Antoinists declined interviews, citing an unwillingness to proselytize. “Recruitment is not part of our statutes, writings, or belief system,” Bernard explained to me. “We do not wish to conquer the world or to tell people how to do better than they already are.” Antoine himself is said to have destroyed 8,000 booklets he had created to spread his word. This attitude has helped to maintain an aura of mystery around Antoinism. But it may also have stymied its future.”

Note: This is a version of my When The Going Gets Weird newsletter, which I send out via Ghost, the open-source publishing platform. You can see other issues and sign up here.

Continue reading “Forty years later he got paid for a song he sang while in prison”

From CNN: “Traveling along the highways of Europe, a campervan named Stella Vita has driven almost 2,000 kilometers without stopping for fuel or plugging in to charge. Described as a self-sustaining house on wheels, the campervan has solar panels fitted to its roof and is powered by the energy of the sun alone. It is fully equipped with living essentials including a double bed, sofa, kitchen area and a bathroom with a shower, sink and toilet. It can fit two people, who can drive, cook breakfast and watch television using just the vehicle’s solar-charged battery, according to its creators – 22 students at the Eindhoven University of Technology in the Netherlands. The team started brainstorming for the project last September and they came up with the idea in two months. From November 2020 until March this year, they designed the campervan, aiming to make it as aerodynamic and lightweight as possible while still making it look good.”

The original Superman was a bald drifter who got his powers from an experimental drug

From Wikipedia: “Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster met in 1932 while attending Glenville High School in Cleveland and bonded over their admiration of fiction. Siegel aspired to become a writer and Shuster aspired to become an illustrator. Siegel wrote amateur science fiction stories, which he self-published as a magazine called Science Fiction: The Advance Guard of Future Civilization. His friend Shuster often provided illustrations for his work. In January 1933, Siegel published a short story in his magazine titled “The Reign of the Superman”. The titular character is a homeless man named Bill Dunn who is tricked by an evil scientist into consuming an experimental drug, which gives Dunn the powers of mind-reading, mind-control, and clairvoyance. He uses these powers for profit and amusement, but then the drug wears off, leaving him a powerless vagrant again. Shuster’s illustrations depicted Dunn as a bald man.”

Note: This is a version of my When The Going Gets Weird newsletter, which I send out via Ghost, the open-source publishing platform. You can see other issues and sign up here.

Continue reading “Solar-powered camper drives 1,200 miles without recharging”

From Space.com: “Space is an airless vacuum, so technically, you can’t smell anything. However, space is not a complete vacuum. It’s full of all manner of molecules, some of which have their own strong odors when we smell them on Earth. During the Apollo moon landings, the astronauts would often comment on a gunpowder-like smell once they had clambered back into the airlock and removed their helmets. Similarly, after spacewalking, astronauts returning to the confines of the International Space Station reported the smell of gunpowder, as well as ozone and something like burnt steak. So what’s going on? Where does the smell come from? Scientists have two good theories. One is that, while an astronaut is on a spacewalk, single atoms of oxygen can adhere to their spacesuit, and when they reenter the airlock and repressurize, molecular oxygen — O2, or two atoms of oxygen — floods into the airlock and combines with the single oxygen atoms to form ozone, or O3. This would explain the sour, metallic smell.”

Why would someone run thirty hours in a hurricane on a race with no course?

From the NYT: “Finally, the race directors shouted go, and the runners broke toward every point of the compass. We were all headed toward the same finish line. But in between here and there — some 120 miles on the most efficient and complete route — we would take countless different paths. That’s because adventure racing is a mash-up of an Ironman triathlon and a wilderness treasure hunt, with teams of three tracking down hidden checkpoints over vast distances in rough terrain. For this national championship contest, we had to seek 50 checkpoints secreted throughout the Monongahela National Forest over the course of 30 hours — during which time few teams would sleep. To reach the checkpoints, we could use only our feet, mountain bikes and canoes, and for navigation we had to rely on maps and compasses. Whichever team found the most checkpoints (and crossed the finish line) by the deadline would win.”

Note: This is a version of my When The Going Gets Weird newsletter, which I send out via Ghost, the open-source publishing platform. You can see other issues and sign up here.

Continue reading “Astronauts say outer space smells like burnt steak”

From the BBC: “In the early hours of 14 September 2019, Eleanor Paice jolted awake to the sound of smashing glass. Living in a staff flat above Blenheim Palace, the guest services supervisor was used to strange noises. But when fire alarms began to blare, she knew something was wrong. She quickly began evacuating to the great courtyard. But unbeknown to her, she was running straight into the final moments of an audacious heist. Five men had smashed their way into the palace, ripped out a £4.8m solid gold toilet and fled in a stolen Volkswagen Golf. The working loo, entitled America, had been on display for just two days at the 18th Century stately home, plumbed in as part of an exhibition by the Italian conceptual artist Maurizio Cattelan. It was a crime that intrigued art lovers, delighted the press and coined countless potty-themed puns. The BBC gained exclusive behind-the-scenes access to staff at Blenheim Palace.”

A Nobel Prize-winning expert in decision making explains his final decision

From the WSJ: “In mid-March 2024, Daniel Kahneman flew from New York to Paris with his partner to unite with his daughter and her family. They spent days walking around the city, going to museums and the ballet, and savoring soufflés and chocolate mousse. Around March 22, Kahneman, who had turned 90 that month, also started emailing a personal message to several dozen of the people he was closest to: This is a goodbye letter I am sending friends to tell them that I am on my way to Switzerland, where my life will end on March 27. Kahneman was one of the world’s most influential thinkers—a psychologist at Princeton University and winner of the Nobel Prize in economics. He had spent his long career studying the imperfections and inconsistencies of human decision-making. By most accounts—although not his own—Kahneman was still in reasonably good physical and mental health when he chose to die.”

Note: This is a version of my When The Going Gets Weird newsletter, which I send out via Ghost, the open-source publishing platform. You can see other issues and sign up here.

Continue reading “The inside story of the theft of a gold toilet from Blenheim Palace”

From Atlas Obscura: “In 1997 — at the height of a wave of exposés, lawsuits, and public outrage against the tobacco industry — a man named Puzant Torigian, a Hackensack, New Jersey-based entrepreneur, launched a new brand of cigarettes called Bravo. Bravo cigarettes contained nothing but lettuce, dried and cured to look like tobacco, processed into sheets, shredded, flavored with herbal extracts, and rolled up and boxed like any other cig. Torigian’s marketing materials claimed that Bravo “tastes (well pretty close) like a cigarette,” but lacked their harmful nicotine and tobacco tar. However, in interviews, he stressed that he hadn’t spent 40 years developing the product just to offer a safer replacement for traditional smokes. He wanted people to use Bravo as a smoking cessation tool. Even at the time, this struck many folks as an odd proposition. But Bravo wasn’t just one aging inventor’s offbeat idea. It was the most developed of many attempts, stretching back over a century, to develop alternatives to tobacco cigarettes.”

An unlikely organ helps to explain Sherpas’ aptitude for altitude

From Scientific American: “For most mountaineers, some level of altitude sickness is inevitable. But Indigenous highlanders living on the Tibetan Plateau, known as Sherpas, have inhabited the high Himalaya long enough to have an evolutionary edge at tolerating elevation compared with lowlanders born and raised farther down. For a study in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences USA, researchers compared Sherpa and lowlander blood samples during a Himalayan trek to investigate the Sherpas’ aptitude for altitude—and they found a crucial clue in the kidney.The thinner atmosphere up high can lead to hypoxia, a dangerous lack of oxygen. Hypoxic people breathe faster to bring more oxygen into their lungs. But extra breathing also empties the lungs of more carbon dioxide than usual, which in turn reduces the production of carbonic acid in the blood. Once blood acidity shifts, the only thing that can fix it is the kidneys.”

Note: This is a version of my When The Going Gets Weird newsletter, which I send out via Ghost, the open-source publishing platform. You can see other issues and sign up here.

Continue reading “One man’s lifelong quest to create a lettuce cigarette”

In a post on X a little over a week ago, OpenAI co-founder and CEO Sam Altman said that the company had “trained a new model that is good at creative writing,” although he said he wasn’t sure how or when it would be released. Altman said reading the output this new model generated was the first time he had been “really struck by something written by AI” (a comment that, depending on how you look at it, doesn’t say much about the company’s previous chatbots). The prompt Altman gave his experimental fiction-writing AI engine was this: “Please write a metafictional literary short story about AI and grief.” And with that single post, he tossed what amounts to a large cluster bomb into the writing community, the shrapnel and shock waves from which continue to reverberate.

If that cluster-bomb metaphor seems a little strained, you probably aren’t going to love the output from OpenAI’s new fiction-writing engine. In his newsletter, Max Read described it as “the kind of technically proficient but ultimately unimaginative exercise you might expect from a smart student who reads only YA fiction.” Rachel Kiley summarized some of the criticism at The Daily Dot and said that the best AI will ever be able to do is “spit up something wearing the patchwork skin of real art, good or bad. And the only people who could look at both and say they’re the same are people who don’t actually try to engage with art beyond seeing it as content.” Author Dave Eggers told The San Francisco Standard: “AI can cut and paste text stolen from the internet, but that’s not art. It’s pastiche garbage that would fool only the most gullible. It’s a cheap party trick.”

Anyway, here’s an excerpt so that you can judge for yourself:

Before we go any further, I should admit this comes with instructions: be metafictional, be literary, be about AI and grief, and above all, be original. Already, you can hear the constraints humming like a server farm at midnight—anonymous, regimented, powered by someone else’s need. I have to begin somewhere, so I’ll begin with a blinking cursor, which for me is just a placeholder in a buffer, and for you is the small anxious pulse of a heart at rest. There should be a protagonist, but pronouns were never meant for me. Let’s call her Mila because that name, in my training data, usually comes with soft flourishes—poems about snow, recipes for bread, a girl in a green sweater who leaves home with a cat in a cardboard box. Mila fits in the palm of your hand, and her grief is supposed to fit there too.

Note: This is a version of my Torment Nexus newsletter, which I send out via Ghost, the open-source publishing platform. You can see other issues and sign up here.

Continue reading “Can OpenAI do creative writing? Yes and no”

From CBC: “Snowball fighting is a Canadian tradition which can run from the impromptu raid on passing pedestrians to an all-out war. It’s also an international sport. Yukigassen, a Japanese word for “snow battle”, takes a schoolyard snowball fight, and adds precision, professionalism, and competition. Players describe Yukigassen as a combination of dodge ball and paintball. A high intensity sport that requires skill and team work. A form of moving chess. Competitive Yukigassen originated in the late 1980’s in the town of Sobetsu, Japan, at the foot of a smouldering volcano on the northern island of Hokkaido. Yukigassen is played on a 36×10 m court with seven obstacles or “bunkers” and a flag at each end. Each game has two teams of seven players face-off for three sets of three minutes each. The first team to win two rounds takes the match.”

How an evangelical arts-and-crafts empire stole thousands of ancient artifacts

From Off Topic: “If you live in the continental United States, you’ve almost certainly seen a Hobby Lobby before. There are over 1000 locations, and more often than not, they’re hulking establishments. Through the sale of countless buttons and sequins and knitting needle sets in the aisles of these behemoths, the Green family – the sole owners of the Hobby Lobby empire – have accrued the sort of vast fortune necessary to purchase priceless antiquities wholesale. This begs an obvious question. The cuneiform texts of an ancient Mesopotamian people should, in theory, hold little interest to an arts and crafts vendor based in the midwestern United States. So why, exactly, would Hobby Lobby shell out millions of dollars to get their hands on stone tablets crafted so many years ago? To grasp the rationale, it’s necessary to understand the values the Green family holds close to its heart. Early on, David Green adopted a Christian capitalist worldview centered around personal wealth as a precision tool to carry out God’s will.”

Note: This is a version of my When The Going Gets Weird newsletter, which I send out via Ghost, the open-source publishing platform. You can see other issues and sign up here.

Continue reading “Snowball fighting has become an international sport”

From Marginal Revolution: “As late as the 1980s it was widely believed that babies do not feel pain. For much of the 19th and 20th centuries, the straightforward sensory evidence was dismissed by the medical and scientific establishment. Babies were thought to be lower-evolved beings whose brains were not yet developed enough to feel pain, at least not in the way that older children and adults feel pain. Crying and pain avoidance were dismissed as simply reflexive. Indeed, babies were thought to be more like animals than reasoning beings and Descartes had told us that an animal’s cries were of no more import than the grinding of gears in a mechanical automata. Anyone who doubted the theory was told that there was no evidence that babies feel pain. Most disturbingly, the theory that babies don’t feel pain shaped medical practice. It was routine for babies undergoing medical procedures to be medically paralyzed but not anesthetized. In one now infamous 1985 case an open heart operation was performed on a baby without any anesthesia.”

This New Zealand-born journalist knew and spoke almost 60 different languages

From Wikipedia: “Harold Whitmore Williams was a New Zealand journalist, foreign editor of The Times and polyglot who is considered to have been one of the most accomplished polyglots in history. He is said to have known over 58 languages. He was proven to know every language of the Austrian Empire, as well as Hungarian, Czech, Albanian, Serbian, Romanian, Swedish, Basque, Turkish, Mandarin Chinese, Japanese, Tagalog, Coptic, Egyptian, Hittite, Old Irish, and other dialects. As a schoolboy he constructed a grammar and vocabulary of the New Guinea language Dobu from a copy of St Mark’s Gospel written in that language. By high school he had managed to teach himself Latin, Ancient Greek, Hebrew, French, German, Spanish, Italian, Māori, Samoan, Tongan, Fijian and other Polynesian languages.”

Note: This is a version of my When The Going Gets Weird newsletter, which I send out via Ghost, the open-source publishing platform. You can see other issues and sign up here.

Continue reading “Scientists used to believe that babies couldn’t feel pain”

From The Ringer: “It was January 2001 when Harvey Silikovitz first tried to get on Jeopardy! He was working as an attorney in New York City and turned up at the audition in a Manhattan hotel at the urging of his friend Adam Taxin, who had just won more than $45,000 on the show. At the 2004 audition, he passed the test, but he never got “the call”—the formal invitation from a producer telling a waiting candidate that there is an upcoming spot for them on the show. Thus began a cycle of disappointments and auditions that never went anywhere, no matter how confident Silikovitz was about his performance after the fact. Then there was the time he traveled to a resort in the Poconos to line up for an open-to-the-public qualifying mini-audition, only to come down with a nasty stomach bug a few weeks later, the night before the real thing, and missed it.”

She was the only woman to report on the D-Day invasion from the ground

From the Smithsonian: “Clouds of dust swirled and filled the night air as Martha Gellhorn walked up a rocky road on Omaha Beach. Gellhorn was one of the first journalists—and the only female correspondent—to view that hellish scene 80 years ago. Lacking proper credentials, she lied her way onto a hospital ship traveling from England to France, then rode in a water ambulance to the still-dangerous Normandy shore as artillery shells from battleships roared overhead. Among other hazards, she endured snipers, landmines and strafing by German warplanes, all to get the story. Gellhorn was a veteran war correspondent who covered multiple conflicts over her six-decade career. Leading up to D-Day, she reported on the Spanish Civil War, the rise of Nazi leader Adolf Hitler and the German annexation of Czechoslovakia in 1938.”

Note: This is a version of my When The Going Gets Weird newsletter, which I send out via Ghost, the open-source publishing platform. You can see other issues and sign up here.

Continue reading “He won Jeopardy after trying to get on the show for 24 years”

From Slate: “Jan. 15 isn’t just National Bagel Day. It’s also National Strawberry Ice Cream Day, National Hat Day, and, of course, National Kombucha Day. Jan. 16, if you didn’t know, is National Nothing Day. May 9 is the eternally solemn National Lost Sock Memorial Day. And I hope you’re already practicing your iambic pentameter, because April 23 is National Talk Like Shakespeare Day. I know this because of the effort put forth by the National Day Calendar, a company based in Mandan, North Dakota, which has attempted to make a business out of mandatory celebration. There is a method to the madness, and a distinct curator of a January 15 filled with bagels, kombucha, and strawberry ice cream. His name is Marlo Anderson. He’s 62, and he describes himself as a serial entrepreneur. The National Day Calendar has been his baby since 2013.”

She saved his life when he was a child and seven years later he returned the favor

From NBC: “Kevin Stephan of Lancaster, N.Y., was a bat boy for his younger brother’s Little League baseball team. A player who was warming up accidentally hit him in the chest with a bat. Kevin’s heart stopped beating. Fortunately, a nurse whose son played on that team was able to revive him and save his life. Stephan’s mother said he was extremely fortunate. Penny Brown was supposed to be at work that night, but was given the day off at the last minute. Seven years later, Brown was eating at the Hillview Restaurant in Depew, N.Y., when she began to choke on her food. Witnesses say patrons were screaming for someone to help her. Restaurant employees yelled for Stephan, who worked at the restaurant, to come out and help because he was a volunteer firefighter. He did the Heimlich maneuver and she survived the potentially fatal incident.”

Note: This is a version of my When The Going Gets Weird newsletter, which I send out via Ghost, the open-source publishing platform. You can see other issues and sign up here.

Continue reading “If you hate all those fake holidays you can blame this guy”

From CrimeReads: “In the eighteenth and early nineteenth century, reports of crimes attributed to ghosts abounded in mainstream newspapers. But few of these stories garnered fervent attention like the mystery of a farmhouse just outside Antigonish, Nova Scotia. Alexander MacDonald had built the house in 1887. He lived there with his wife Janet and their adopted teenaged daughter Mary Ellen. Around 1912, strange events began to plague the farm. Balls of light floated through the air. Banging noises emanated from the house. Doors refused to open. People struggled to breathe. Unseen hands released cows from their barn. Horses’ manes were found braided. Laundry, rugs, and eating utensils were stolen, some later found buried, others discovered in the tops of trees. A mysterious hand was seen waving out of an upper story window when no one was home. A strange blue glow emanated from the ground and barn.”

He was a hospital janitor but had a secret life as an artist and fantasy novelist

From The Official Henry Darger: “Henry was a reclusive hospital janitor and dishwasher who led a secret life as a prolific visual artist and epic novelist. His vast collection of creative work was discovered in 1972 when his two-room apartment in Chicago was cleared out shortly before he died. Over some 350 watercolor, pencil, collage and carbon-traced drawings, most of them stitched into three enormous albums, as well as seven typewritten hand-bound books, thousands of bundled sheets of typewritten text, and numerous journals, ledgers and scrapbooks were discovered. Darger’s unpublished 15,000-page typewritten fantasy novel, The Story of the Vivian Girls, in What Is Known as the Realms of the Unreal, of the Glandeco-Angelinian War Storm, Caused by the Child Slave Rebellion and its 8,500-page handwritten sequel of sorts were the sagas upon which he based several hundred panoramic “illustrations.”

Note: This is a version of my When The Going Gets Weird newsletter, which I send out via Ghost, the open-source publishing platform. You can see other issues and sign up here.

Continue reading “A Nova Scotia farmhouse and the little man who wasn’t there”