Last Day of the Year

Well, Happy Birthday to Sir Anthony Hopkins and Ben Kingsley -
plus, Happy Anniversary to Kate Hudson and Will Smith (and their spouses!).

The world is still recovering from the Asian tsunami catastrophe. My deepest condolences go to all those who lost a loved one, or more, like poor Sir Richard Attenborough. It will be a long mourning before recovery. So much pain...

May this New Year bring better luck to everyone.

Tonight at 7pm, New York's Eve Gala is La Bohème, at the Amato Opera (at the Bowery).

Tom Cruise's new movie, directed by Steven Spielberg, is 'The War of the Worlds'. Watch the trailer at the Official movie website. Or, from the Apple website, try downloading this one about a New World.

If *plastics* used to be the future, then *plastic electronics* is the future of the future. Your own permanent newspaper - can you imagine? In eInk's words: "The culminating dream of E Ink is to combine these attributes to create RadioPaperTM, a display with the readability of ink on paper but with the added benefit of digital technology to download newspaper headlines or a best-selling novel at the user's command - providing information to anyone, anywhere.". Take the Library of Congress to the beach, in a single piece of (plastic) paper and browse the world.

Time Magazine tells us their Best & Worst for 2004 .

The best Tiramisu - ever

Alright, to close 2004 with some class, here's the secret recipe for a truly outstanding Desert - really, the best Tiramisu, ever. Really!

Petronius never said that!

This one is from friend Jim Reeds, Emeritus Voynichian Cryptanalytical Fellow Researcher & AT&T ex-tech guru. Not only it makes cool trivia, it's also healthy and fashionable to weed out hard-to-catch nonsense for the benefit of generations to come.

The Warbler and the Spy

Take a good look at this little bird:

SOURCE FOR THIS PICTURE: National Zoo, Smithsonian Institution

Few people remember the Alger Hiss case these days. Was he really "Ales", the mysterious Soviet spy? Or was this one of those cases of blind injustice?

Learn here how the tiny warbler helped set the verdict that destroyed the career of a Harvard man who once was Roosevelt's adviser and a pupil of Oliver Wendell Holmes. Courtesy of the University of Missouri-Kansas City.

Ellis Parker, an American Sherlock Holmes

John Reisinger wrote an interesting document about Ellis Parker in twelve installments .

A very inspiring effort, I must say.

Icelandic chess

9 Grandmasters, out of 278,000!

Tsunami - Clarke survived

In the wake of the horrendous tragedy that today affects dozens of thousands, and mankind, we have learned that Sir Arthur C. Clarke, a longtime resident of Sri Lanka, did survive the disaster.

For more information, and to read his message to those concerned about him, visit:

The Arthur C. Clarke Foundation

Ode on a Chinese Yuan Urn

Evoking Keats, I'd like to recommend two fresh, powerful articles that have recently come to my attention while pursuing a humble understanding of the fascinating Chinese economic phenomenum that is engulfing us all: first, Mr. Jonathan Anderson's skilled 'Yuan-derful: the Chinese currency isn't the threat it's made out to be' (I suggest a Google search; you should find it easily) and second, Foreign Policy's special report for its January-February 2005 issue, 'China Rising: How the Asian colossus is changing our world', with essays by Jonathan Spence ('The Once and Future China'; wow, excellent!), Martin Wolf ('Why China is growing so slowly'), Ashley Tellis, Homi Kharas and Minxin Pei. This special issue also includes a most interesting debate (see 'Clash of the Titans') about the China military/economic geopolitical issue, between Brzezinsky and Professor Mearsheimer from the University of Chicago.

Mr. Anderson, who is UBS's Chief Asian Economist writes in a learned way about the overvaluation, not of the currency itself, but of the exchange rate problem. Simply wise - this article should be a mandatory subject of discussion for Economy students worldwide.

Alas, for those who seek a more romantic, historically appealing vision of China, it pays to skip the Revolution Years and try Isaac Taylor Headland's 'Court Life In China' , courtesy of the Electronic Text Center, University of Virginia Library. It's a good read and provides some nifty details on the Opium Wars and other parts of that complex intrigue background that would later provide the inspiration for Bertolucci's masterpiece, The Last Emperor.

SOURCE FOR THIS PICTURE: Professor Mindel's website

A Riddle In a Mystery Inside an Enigma, indeed!

Should anyone care to comment on the undervalued yuan's real global implications...?

King Kong's Creepy Spiders

In the 1933 King Kong movie, Merian C. Cooper had originally included a scene where giant spiders eat some of the poor guys that fell from the tree laid across a deep canyon. The scene was thought to be so horrible and realistic that when the movie was first privately screened in San Bernardino in late January that year, many left the room and some people kept discussing the scene in shock throughout the rest of the movie. In the end, it was decided that the scene should be excluded from the final cut.

Is it lost forever? Surely someone must have saved it. Or maybe it is like that red balalaika from Dr Zhivago; its whereabouts are likely remain a mystery, forever.

Below, a rare still of the lost scene:

SOURCE FOR THIS PICTURE: Boyd Campbell's website

And you can see some progress on the new Kong 2005 movie by Peter Jackson's Kiwi crew:

Click here for the neat Quicktime Movie, directly from the Peter Jackson Kong weblog

The Forbidden Underground Lake under Opera Garnier

"What's that?" he asked.
"The key of the gate to the underground passage in the Rue Scribe."
"I understand, Christine. It leads straight to the lake. Give it to me, Christine, will you?"
"Never!" she said. "That would be treacherous!"
- Gaston Leroux, The Phantom of the Opera" (1910).

Searching the lobby for the concealed gateway to the Opera basement proved to be a fruitless exercise. We had been to see 'Coppélia' played by the young debutantes from the Ecole de Danse de l'Opéra National de Paris, in a version by Patrice Bart.

I had heard that even if you managed to get clearance to visit the dark loins of the building, you still required of a special permit in advance to see the lake, as the place is closed to tourists - presumably for security reasons. Which is understandable, I suppose. But did this secret underground lake really exist? Or was it just as fictitious as the Phantom?

Well - while Erik (the Phantom) may be a fiction character, author Gaston Leroux did find his inspiration for Erik in a real life person who actually lived under the Palais.

The lake, on the other hand, was supposedly real, built by Opera Architect Charles Garnier, after he succeeded in constructing a double wall to contain the pressure of seeping waters inside a cement and concrete tank. Many horror stories took place down there in the 1870s, at the vaults that served as hiding places and execution spots by the Communards. In those days, Paris was very hungry and dined regularly on rats, n'est-ce pas?

So, were there any pictures online? A quick search brings up some neat ones of the basement structure, taken by an Austrian fellow, Harald Jahn... but no underground water bodies. So I wrote him a brief message a few days ago, asking him about the lake - had he seen it?

His reply:

"The "lake" is just a pool of water for the fire brigade. It's an unspectacular hole with a steel ladder going down. No lake, no boats".

Disappointing, isn't it?

But later I found a picture of it!

On her website, 'Memories of a small rat', a ballet dancer, Nina, refers to the singular story of 3 girls, very young dancers (Claude, Josette and Raymonde) who managed to elude the concierge, Monsieur Hachet, and went past the forbidden door, only to be rescued later by the firemen... Nina shares the story of this charming adventure as she got it by her friend Raymonde. And she posted this amazing anonymous XIX century picture of the lake (it's the first picture (b&w) in the album) ... thanks, Nina!

As for access these days, one would have to ask Guillaume, the Head of Security Services of the Opera Palace. Drop me a line if you find a way to get in... don't forget to take pictures!

On the missing head of Mata Hari

I was surprised to read in the newspapers about that underground movie theater they recently found in Paris, in one of the restricted areas. A whole theater, unknown but to a few! But that is another story.

The real enigma had a name: Margaretha Geertruida Zelle. A Dutch girl, no less. Born in 1876, she married the wrong guy when she was 18. Then, tragedy engulfed her life with the death of her eldest child. The boy, Norman John, was poisoned by a vindictive servant whose wife had been wronged by Campbell MacLeod, Margaretha's husband.

All of this happened in Sumatra, where she caught the Oriental influence and learned the exotic belly dancing that would bring her fame and eventually, an untimely death. Her nude performances in Paris and all over Europe made her reputation soar. It was a scandal that met a predictable end, when she was executed by a French firing squad in 1917 for engaging in spying activities for the Germans. Her final words, before they took her away, have been quoted to be: "Death is nothing, nor life either, for that matter. To die, to sleep, to pass into nothingness, what does it matter? Everything is an illusion."

When you look closely at the picture, you will see her by the side of a hill, ready to meet her end. Yet she was shot in the inner garden of Chateau Vincennes. Now, Chateau Vincennes was a military prison fort back in those days, by the Bois (Forest) of Vincennes on the edge of Paris. So I wondered, if the garden grounds were flat inside the prison fort, what is this steep hill? It didn't make sense. The answer to this small mystery: the picture belongs to an movie about Mata Hari, shot at a different location than the execution spot. I don't think it's the 1931 Greta Garbo movie, but an earlier classic; of course I could well be wrong and it might be the Garbo version. Over the years, many seem to have confused it with the real event. One wonders how many other true facts and movies will face the same problem in the future...

After the execution, her body was taken to the Musée d'Anatomie Delmas-Orfila-Rouviere (no one claimed the corpse). And then, at some point, we lose track of it - although it seems to be a confirmed fact that it was lost there. As a student, Professor Paul de Saint-Maur remembers seeing the head of a red-haired woman that everyone called Mata Hari. His memory was right. In fact, Museum Curator Roger Saban had found a document recording the arrival of her corpse in 1918.

Professor Saban thinks that her mummified head was stolen in 1954 by an admirer when the museum moved to its present site in the 8th floor at the Paris V Rene Descartes University at 45 Rue des Saint-Pères, 6th Arrondissement, Paris. However, if anyone is interested in seeing any of the more than 5,000 criminal skulls they exhibit and runs out of things to do in Paris (unlikely!), the Museum's phone is 00 331 42 86 20 47. It seems they open by appointment only.

And if you happen to visit Leeuwarden, make sure to visit number 28, Grote Kerstraak - Mata Hari's birthplace.

Of a Viking Ship in the Desert

Odd enough is the legend of Yaquitepec, home of the Souths (Marshal, Tanya and their children), who lived a unique wilderness adventure in the Anza-Borrego desert, at the top of Ghost Mountain. Fourteen years in near complete isolation! They left civilization for their kind of RobinsonCrusoeish, sort of nudist experience in 1932. It had to end in Divorce. And Survival, of course.

Today, ruins of the house speak only of a distant past of efforts and dreams. Yaquitepec is again a lonely rough place, save for the occasional cult tourist. This forgotten shrine of one man's Utopia is disappearing fast, swallowed by that Silent Giant Rattlesnake - the Sonora desert. Anyway- perhaps in one of his trips to the nearby towns, Marshal had made a friend, the librarian lady from Julian, California. Her name was Myrtle Botts. A few years later, in 1948, Marshal died in Julian. And then in the late 60s, West writer extraordinaire Choral Pepper interviewed Myrtle at her house. Myrtle confirmed that on a 1933 weekend trip, while camping with her husband Louis Botts at Agua Caliente Springs, Arizona (somewhere between Phoenix and Mexicali), they had been approached by a lone miner who asked to share their fire and conversation. It appears that at some point he showed them some old photographs of a wreck of a "ship of some kind" that he discovered while exploring the canyons near the Mexican border. The worn and tattered pictures showed something protruding from the canyon wall -something that appeared to be a Viking ship, with a snake carved on the wooden bow. Ms. Pepper writes in her book 'Mysterious West' (co-written with Brad Williams) that the Botts had found the wreck based on the old miner's directions. However, when they returned (this time with a camera, perhaps?), the ship got lost under rocks as the canyon was hit by the powerfull Long Beach earthquake of 1933.Lost! The Rattlesnake's Belly is full of crazy tall tales and wild true stories. Somewhere inside of it, you'll find the dry skeletons of a man's love for freedom and his family, and a half-buried Viking ship that lies hidden, waiting to be discovered...
You can read more about it here, and here.

Of classic disappearances in the jungle

Take, for example, the classic disappearances in the jungle:

May 1925: Col. Fawcett mysteriously vanishes in an expedition around the Xingu River, Brazil. His son Jack and a friend, Raleigh Rimmell, were with him. None ever returned. Several expeditions to find him turned out to be unsuccessful. Was he killed by the Kalapalo indians, or by the snakes/mosquitoes/river rapids?

November 1961: Michael Rockefeller, son of Gov. Nelson Rockefeller, is suddenly lost in the coast of the New Guinea jungle off the mouth of the wild River Eilanden, in the Arafura Sea (West Papua, Irian Jaya, now a part of Indonesia). Were cannibals (the Asmat) responsible for his death? Or was it the crocodile infested sea? (yes, crocodiles can be found in that sea). A huge expensive search effort ends without a clue.

The amount of information/misinformation covering these events is truly vast.

So, what is it about these mysteries that fascinates us?

Nike, or the Wings of the Goddess

My brother tells me that the Nike sports brand name comes from the Greek word for 'Goddess', Nike, and that their small wing logo is inspired in Samothrace's headless beauty. You can see her in full glory at the top of the staircase at the Louvre Museum in Paris. Legend has it that the founder of the Rolls Royce company used to go there often just to admire her, and eventually placed her at the top front of every one of his cars.

Tall and imposing, she used to greet sailors that entered the island of Samothrace; today, she greets millions of tourists every year. She was broken in 200some fragments back in Greece and they took her to France and glued her together at the museum. A wing was lost, so they had to build her a new one.

More than a pretty girl who lost her head, the Victory is a testimony to human greatness.

Maybe his source is an old Asimov book - I'm not sure?

Click on the Daily Channel's link for a good look at the Goddess:

http://www.thedailychannel.com/seen/samolarge.htm

New Star Wars movie - 'Episode III: Revenge of the Sith' Trailer

The last chapter of the saga...

Watch it here .

Zanzibar: A Sea of Glowing Waters

Adrian Conan Doyle, the son of the famous creator of Sherlock Holmes, wrote in his book "Heaven has Claws" about a lagoon in Zanzibar where the bioluminiscense was so intense that he managed to read a newspaper from his boat deck at night, so bright was the glow coming from the water !

Similarly, he tells the tale of another haunting experience involving sea phosphorescense, which you can enjoy in this excerpt from the same 1952 book:

"Silently, we stood and watched. It was apparent that this great patch of light, burning with a weird electric blue color, was well below the surface of the sea, and as it moved nearer the whole ship beneath the waterline commenced to glow with the radiance of its approach. It was passing directly under the keel when, seizing a lead sinker from the deck, I hurled it into the depth. In an instant the whole mass disintegrated into tongues of blue flame streaking away like meteors through the blackness of the water. It's a school of big fish... Over there, cried Anna, there too! Oh, what a marvelous sight!

From all directions slow-moving masses of submarine light had begun to drift about the lagoon, glimmering palely at a distance of some hundred yards and gradually warming into wonderful shades of blue and green as they moved nearer to the ship. By watching very closely it was possible to discern that some of these mobile patches of light were caused by great sharks while others were whole schools of middle-sized fish.

The hours passed, and at length Anna retired to rest. The moving masses had become markedly fewer and I was on the point of descending when suddenly there appeared far away beyond the bows of the ship a distant patch of submarine luminescence of immense size. Nearer it came, and nearer, and now I could count no less than three great disturbances of greenish light proceeding in line formation one behind the other.

Straight past the ship they swept, their diamond-shaped forms lit up in a livid radiance, their great flukes thirty feet or more from tip to tip and so on into the darkness, streaming with heatless fire like ghost coaches gliding upon their way. Thus passed the Mantas."

Dorothy Arnold, revisited

SOURCE FOR THIS PICTURE: Troy Taylor's website

Early on that Saturday afternoon, the young woman chatted on the street with an acquaintance, the name of which has long been forgotten. She had gone out to shop for a dress to wear to her younger sister's 'coming out' party and had promised to call her mom as soon as she found something. Perhaps they discussed the tea for sixty of her college friends that she had been organizing for Thursday (December 17th), on the following week.

She was reported to have purchased - charged to her account, although she had nearly $30.00 in cash- a pound of candy (a box of chocolates or sweetmeats?) from Park and Tilford's Candy Factory, over at Fifth Avenue and 59th street. She left the store at 11:30 am. Shortly therafter, she enters the legendary Brentano's , between 26th and Fifth Avenue. There, surrounded by books engraved with beautiful golden letters, Miss Dorothy Arnold uses the opportunity to buy a volume of humorous epigrams entitled 'An Engaged Girl's Sketches'. Ernest Dell, the clerk takes her money: later he would say he never noticed anything unusual. These would be the last people known to see her alive.

She left the bookstore at about 2.45 p. M., when she met a young woman friend, who congratulated her upon her healthful appearance. "I am feeling fine" said Miss Arnold who, turning north, added: "I am going to walk home through Central Park.". Home was in 108 East Seventy-ninth Street.

By all the accounts I have read, Dorothy weighed around one hundred forty pounds. A thick nose, fine lips and a small mouth; curly dark brown hair, and big clear blue-grayish eyes that would send out the ocassional sharp glance. An elegant girl, her suit was taylor made: blue jacket and long skirt, exposing buttoned small boots with high heels, following the fashion in 1910. Oh, and the same hat with roses you can see in the picture. With her appealing fair skin, she could well have been easily noticed by any of the fortune hunters that regularly courted that exclusive feminine flock, the New York's Four Hundred.

Dorothy Harriet Camille, born in 1884, wrote with dreams of getting her love story published ("Poinsettia Flames"); also some verses ("Lotus Leaves"). But the magazines did not show any interest in her immature prose, and more than twice they made her taste the bitterness of literary rejection.

To her father, Francis Arnold, the idea of Dorothy moving out of the house and into the Village, in order to write, was simply unacceptable. Francis had found his prosperity through various business ventures and eventually settled down in the branch of perfume imports and department stores. His wry reply was often: "Good writers can write anywhere". Evidently, the girl did not agree, but given her dependence, she could not count on other options. Her uncle was the highly respectable magistrate Rufus Peckham of the Supreme Court of Justice, who certainly had no need for family scandals of any kind.

There was this boyfriend called 'Junior'. His true name was George, and he was 40. Surely they had met during her days in Bryn Mawr, that refined school of young ladies of where Dorothy had finished cum laude, only five years before?

So six weeks elapse, and Francis, in his seventies, has avoided scandal by failing to notify the police, choosing instead to resort to friends and private detectives. Eventually, mortified, he calls the police. Detectives advise that is the right time to use all the publicity that can be deployed, but by then it is too late.

Not much later, their mother and brother would arrive to Florence and managed to interrogate Junior directly, but they do not obtain anything. An evidently depressed Dorothy is exposed in the letters, suggesting that perhaps she considers committing suicide? And George, George Griscom, Jr has kept those letters reveal one week of furtive romance in Boston. Yes, quite scandalous for the times... But while the letters speak of love, they do not throw any further light on her whereabouts... only some mentions of deppression over an unpublished story (Poinsettia?). A search of her room indicated she left behind her jewelry and a large stack of letters.

Slowly, the hopes of the Arnolds start to disintegrate. Did they give up, entirely?

There are those who state, like that gentleman from the Department of Missing Persons of the City of New York did, in 1921 (he would take it back later, with complaints of being misquoted) that the family had always known what had really happened to Dorothy.

In spite of time, twenty-five years later, in 1935, people was still sending reports that placed her here or there. As Charles Fort reminds us, the Sun reviewed a supernaturalist, who insisted that Dorothy was indeed the mysterious white swan that had appeared almost magically on the following day, on the cold pool of Central Park. It would be exactly in the same place where her father assumed that criminal hands would have hidden her corpse... In 1916, a Rhode Island convict mentioned that a man whose description closely matched "Junior" had payed him a hundred and fifty dollars to dig a grave in a basement near West Point. Many houses there were then searched, but nothing ever came up. Francis acknowledged in his will (he died in 1922) that he thought his daughter was dead. His wife would survive him another six years.

Where you are tonight, Dorothy? In what buried box, on which ignored shelf do you hide your rejections, your escaping verses?

A few bits of the Sky Stone

Who knows if Anna Grayson's mysterious 'Sky' stone is truly Aerinite?

Was that merely a suggestion made by an amateur geologist, or has it been positively ID'd ?

This odd blue rock was found in a souvenir stand by BBC's award-winning Hertfordshire geologist Mrs Grayson on a vacation trip in Morocco with her husband Dr Clark (also BBC). She thought it was really rare, a very rare kind of blue, and kept it in a drawer for a few years, then chose to have it properly analyzed.

It was Dr Gordon Cressey from the Natural History Museum (yes, Cromwell Road) who initially determined that this was indeed an undescribed type of mineral. It was reported that the microscopic structure reflects a kaleidoscopic complex mineral made of millions of crystals. Incidentally, when examined in detail, these crystals show fibers, not unlike asbestos. Is it carcinogenic, then?

Anna also said in an interview, ""As you revolve it under the microscope, the colours change from purple to blue to cream" - well, that's really, really odd, don't you think? One can read a little more about it in Javier Sierra's 'En Busca de la Edad de Oro' (2000).

If anyone has a picture of it, please send it my way.

Marguerite Duras

If you are a diehard fan of Duras' mesmerizing prose, Pamela Payne's excellent article, Marguerite Duras in Sa Dec, published by literarytraveler.com is one for you - one not to be missed! And if you read her best-known novel "The Lover", but missed the 1991 movie, do yourself a favor and watch it - top photography and direction by Jean Jacques Anaud, great music and cinematography and Jane March is simply perfect as the young girl.
The movie is rated R.

SOURCE FOR THIS PICTURE: Ymagin!

Remembering Mathias Rust

It was the eighties, wasn't it? Near the end of the Cold War, this 19-year old kid flies solo this little Cessna plane all the way to Moscow and lands it right by the Red Square, next to the Kremlin!! (Scan-Foto: Lehtikuva Oy - source: nrk.no).

It was an unkind slap in the face of the impressive-sounding (but already suspected to be really inefficient) Soviet radar system. This fly had landed right on the tip of their nose... An article in Russia's Pravda said it best in these words, in an article published in 2002: "This day 15 years ago: German pilot annihilated two persons: USSR defence minister and air-defence commander". Hehe.

Well, thus came the end of an era of pretense in technological supremacy. It was the dawn of the Age of Sincerity - something was definitely going wrong there. Barely one year before, a little town near the Pripiat' River in north-central Ukraine, Chernobyl, was making headlines... what a mess.

Mathias' major contribution to the birth of democracy in Russia has never been sufficiently appraised. Perhaps it never will. But some of us will remember his daring flight fondly. It takes guts!

If you want to know what happened next, here's a link to an interview made by Carl Wilkinson to Mathias, published by The Observer Magazine (The Guardian).

Was the Amber Room burned by the Soviet Army in 1944?

Two British researchers, Catherine Scott-Clark and Adrian Levy, recently published their book called 'The Amber Room: the Untold Story of the Greatest Hoax of the Twentieth Century'. They based their research on 12,000 documents in Germany and 26 boxes from St Petersburg in Russia, and reached the conclusion that the Amber Room was burned by accident by the Soviet army at Königsberg (now Kaliningrad) before the end of WWII. This, of course, has been deeply rejected by the Russian press.

About six tons of extraordinary amber panels covered the walls of the legendary Amber Room in the Catharine Palace outside St Petersburg. It is perhaps the most valuable missing masterpiece in the world. Indeed, it was called by some the Eighth Wonder of the world. The panels were a gift from Frederick William of Prussia to Peter the Great and were admired by many visitors to the Catherine Palace.

Then, towards the end of the War it disappeared mysteriously.

Since then, all kinds of theories have been formulated to establish what happened to it - was it buried by the Nazi army, sunken in a lake, hidden in a mine shaft?

For those who wish they could have seen what the original looked like, an identical, amazing recreation of the Amber Room was finally unveiled in 2003 as part of celebrations for St Petersburg's 300th birthday.

I saw the exquisite, unfinished recreation when it was a work in progress in NYC in 1996, at the American Museum of Natural History. It was an exhibition called " In one corner, behind a glass pane, the public could see Craft Master Alexander Krylov carving the delicate pieces to match exactly the lines of those in the original, as depicted in a black and white photograph that was taken before the war.

My source for this was an article/interview by Moscow correspondent Emma Griffiths for Australian ABC's 'Correspondents Report' (about.com). A cool investigative report, in my opinion.

The Portland Vase: Roman or Rennaissance?

Last year, Jerome Eisenberg, a major expert and adviser to the Met and other museums, expressed the opinion that the mysterious Portland Vase may not be of Roman origin, after all, but that it was made during the Renaissance.

But many other experts oppose this idea and believe the vase is truly ancient. But what is most intriguing about this vase is not its dating, nor its origin, but the actual meaning of the two unusual scenes depicted on it.

One side features a young man entwines his arm with the arm of a seated woman who holds a snake. Cupid flies above them, while an older man is looking from the right. On the reverse a young man gazes at a reclining woman holding a torch. At the right a seated woman holds a scepter.

Is one of the scenes the Judgment of Paris? Perhaps the dream of Olympias pregnant with Alexander the Great, conceived by Zeus Ammon coming to her as a snake? No, wait, it's Cleopatra and Marc Anthoy. Or isn't it the myth of Adonis and Proserpina?

Anyway, what is true is that pages and pages have been written about them, but no single theory has been deemed completely satisfactory.

The original vase is kept at the British Museum in London (UK).

You can look it up here at the Museum's website by typing "portland vase" after clicking on "continue" and check both scenes to come up with your own interpretation!

Speaking of Coffins...

Two main oddities come to mind:

First is the Arthur's Seat finding (by some Scottish children in 1863) of 17 mysterious miniature coffins:

SOURCE FOR THIS PICTURE: some cool British educational website.

Who made them? What purpose they serve? And what of the spooky little wooden dolls that were inside the coffins? Hey, you can even see some of them inside their coffins in that picture...

Was there a real link between the miniature coffins and the infamous grave robbers Burke and Hare?
Dr Allison Sheridan, curator of the Museum of Scotland, where the coffins are, commissioned Dr Allen Simpson and Dr Sam Menefee of the University of Virginia to find out... , as reported in an article by Allan Brown (Sunday Times, September 17 2000).

The second incident relates to a story I read a long time ago - although recent research by the Galveston News cries 'myth!', as it is usual with these tales:

The 'myth' was well-covered in 'Blithering Antiquity' (in its December 2003 issue):

SOURCE FOR THIS PICTURE: Susan Kin

"Charles Coghlan was a professional actor who died while on tour in Galveston in 1899. He was laid to rest there in a casket placed inside a stone vault. Released and carried away by the receding surge, his coffin began to drift . . . and drift, and drift. It drifted across the Gulf of Mexico and rounded the Florida Keys. Then, obviously borne by the Gulf Stream, it slowly bobbed northeastward the entire length of the Eastern Seaboard. Finally extricated from the great ocean current, it was found in 1908 basking on the surface of the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Shocked fishermen towed the barnacled casket to Prince Edward Island. What shocked them most was the name of the occupant, identified on a metal plate. Charles Coghlan the actor was a native son of Prince Edward Island. His coffin had found its way home on a 3,000-mile, eight-year voyage."

The website 'Paranormal Canada' tells us that Charles Coghlan was born in 1841 to a poor Irish family living on Prince Edward Island. It appears that his parents were strict people who wanted the best for their son and who, with the help of neighbours, sent Charles to England to study. Later he returned home having graduated with honours.

When Charles announced that he wanted to be an actor he became banned from the homestead by his father. Charles left Prince Edward Island, vowing never to return. Eventually, he became a success on the stage, performing in productions all over North America. Being a talented actor, he managed to capture a great audience everywhere.

When he was a young actor, Coghlan visited a Gypsy fortune teller who gave him a chilling prediction: sudden death, being at the peak of his popularity. This would happen in a city in the Southern United States, but that his body would not rest until it was returned home to Prince Edward Island. The incident made Coghlan quite uneasy, and he would bring it up frequently with friends. Charles would tell this story until 1898. Then we find Coghlan was playing Shakesperare (Hamlet) in Galveston, Texas. He was 57 years old and at the peak of a brilliant career when he died on stage that very same year. A week later, Coghlan was lowered into a granite vault in a lead lined coffin on Galveston Island. Two years later, the great Hurricane of 1900 hit Galveston. Almost seven thousand people died and the island was nearly washed into the Gulf of Mexico, including (supposedly) the cemetery where Coghlan was buried.

Then, no less that eight years later, in October of 1908, a few fishermen off the coast of Prince Edward Island spotted something unusual in the cold Atlantic waters. It was a large box, badly damaged in its travels. The fishermen managed to get it onboard and brought it in to shore.

According to the legend, he was buried in the cemetery next to the small church where he was baptized in 1841.

Hmm. True story?

The Galveston News reporter did a good job with research to unearth bits of truth and falsity to this story, originally made popular by Ripley in his 'Believe it or Not!'.

Read all about it here in 'Farshores', although the original source is Galveston News (Sept. '03).

Dancing Coffins in Barbados - Weird Caribbean (2)

The Chase Vault is not, as its deceiving name may point out, a banking facility. Instead, it is a small crypt located in a godforsaken cemetery in the island of Barbados.

The story of the dancing coffins has been told too many times in different versions - but by far my favorite website of all for this matter is this one. For a quick summary of the tale, however, I also recommend this one .

Truth or Fiction? A blend? Jason Moore, a pharmacist from Kentucky did a fantastic job in providing the ultimate virtual tour to one of the most famous classic spook locations in the Caribbean...

So now you know where to go, if you happen to visit that charming island. I wonder where the lead coffin (Thomas Chase's) ended? Buried somewhere else, I imagine.

An Exchange of Great Wine secret tips

I made this good acquaintance in a corporate workshop the other day. Some guy in his 50s whose passion is wines, so naturally I asked that we exchange our all-time favorites. Well, here is his recommendation as something he found to be truly unique, an aenologist's Holy Grail. I chose to share it here and I'll most definitely keep an eye on it at the local store (it is not inexpensive, I hear):

SOURCE FOR THIS PICTURE: www.murrietaswell.com

(now, his particular choice was White Vendimia, although I'd be curious to try their Tempranillo, 'Los Tesoros de Joaquin)).

And to be fair, I shared with him what I consider to be the best, too:

SOURCE FOR THIS PICTURE: www.enoteca.co.jp

http://www.wineofakind.com/montes/montes_alpha_m.htm

A one of a kind indeed, nothing comes close to that "M"- mmmm indeed.

I only had it once, at a very unusual, supercool restaurant built under a HUGE Rubber Tree called 'A Figueira Rubayat', in Sao Paulo:

SOURCE FOR THIS PICTURE: taste.com.br

Thank you, señor Aurelio Montes! Keep up the great quality=)

Have you been to the Edge?

That was the slogan behind Mikhail Gorbachev's Pizza Hut tv commercial .

More underwater oddities

In a follow-up to the Eltanin antenna affair, I'll quote this from waterufo.net:

"In the Arctic Ocean, 400 miles from the pole, Dr. Kenneth Hunkins dropped a camera through the ice to a depth of 7,000 feet and got photos of "chicken tracks", 2 ? inches long, half an inch wide (N.Y. Times Feb. 24, 1958).

And in the Kermatek Trough, north of New Zealand, Nikita Zenkevitch got photos of "a big, unknown sea animal" at a depth of six miles. (Manchester Guardian, Mar. 19, 1958.)"

Now, what the heck is the Kermatek Trough? Does it even exist?

Norton I, Emperor of the United States and Protector of Mexico (1819-1880)

For those who never heard of this peculiar, extraordinary man, consider this link as probably the best place to start learning about him.

If you happen to visit San Francisco, with some spare time to burn, you may even feel inclined to visit his favorite places, his unique gravestone or even the corner where he died of a stroke at the early age of 61 - between California street and Grant Avenue.

How can one summarize a life in a paragraph?

It cannot be done. Here is a poor attempt, though:

An American Don Quixote, who lost his mind to a business deal, and became almost a homeless character who ruled happily in the kingdom of madness over his beloved city of San Francisco, which was so fond of him and his dignity that no one even dared charging him for his meals. In fact, most businesses considered an honor having "his Majesty" as a guest. When he died, the funeral cortege was two miles long, with over 10,000 people showing up.

He even printed his own money (see below Ten Dollars (Ten Nortons?):

SOURCE FOR THIS PICTURE: a Swedish fan of Emperor Norton

His original proclamation read:

"AT THE peremptory request and desire of a large majority of the citizens of these United States, I, Joshua Norton, formerly of Algoa Bay, Cape of Good Hope, and now for the last 9 years and 10 months past of San Francisco, California, declare and proclaim myself Emperor of these United States; and in virtue of the authority thereby in me vested, do hereby order and direct the representatives of the different States of the Union to assemble in Musical Hall, of this city, on the 1st day of February next, then and there to make such alterations in the existing laws of the Union as may ameliorate the evils under which the country is laboring, and thereby cause confidence to exist, both at home and abroad, in our stability and integrity.
Norton I
Emperor of the United States"

A tribute to his life is this notable poem by the late Dr. George Chismore:

NORTON IMPERATOR

"No more through the crowded streets he goes,
With his shambling gait and shabby clothes,
And his furtive glance and whiskered nose--
Immersed in cares of state.
The serpent twisted upon his staff
Is not less careless of idle chaff,
The mocking speech or the scornful laugh,
Than be who bore it late.
His nerveless grasp has released the helm,
But ere the Lethean flood shall whelm
The last faint trace of his fancied realm,
Let us contrast his fate
With other rulers and other reigns,
Of royal birth or scheming brains,
And see if his crazy life contains
So much to deprecate.
No traitorous friends, or vigilant foes,
Rippled the stream of his calm repose;
No fear of exile before him 'rose,
Whose empire was his pate;
No soldiers died to uphold his fame;
He found no pleasure in woman's shame;
For wasted wealth no well-earned blame
Turned subjects' love to hate.
No long and weary struggle with pain;
One sudden throe in his clouded brain
Closed forever his bloodless reign,
With every man his friend.
For Death alone did be abdicate.
What Emperor, Prince or potentate,
Can long avoid a similar fate
Or win a better end!"

The Eltanin Antenna: What Really Happened

Location: 59:07'S 105:03'W
Depth: 3904 meters
Somewhere west of Cape Horn, Pacific Ocean, North of Antartica
Date: 29 August 1964
The NSF research vessel Eltanin took this underwater picture of an unusual object (source of image: French Wikipedia).

For years, many speculated on what kind of device (an antenna?) could it possibly be, and who planted it at such unlikely location.

The answer, only recently disclosed, is a simple one in this case: Cladorhiza Concrescens.

So, it appears the Eltanin antenna is a sponge.

For details, click here - you may find Larry Hatch's controversial research illustrative.

ET, Chinese Pyramids and Mysterious Disks

We never really heard any new reports from the 'scientific commissions' that went to study the phenomenon reported on Mt. Baigong, Qinghai (China), as reported by CNN in 2002:

The site, known by local people as "the ET relics", is on Mount Baigong about 40 kilometers to the southwest of Delingha City, in the depths of the Qaidam Basin, on the shore of the saltwater Toson Lake - here are some articles:

Mysterious Pipes Left by 'ET' Reported from Qinghai (with actual pictures of the 'alien' pipes and caves!)
CNN: China scientists to probe 'ET relics' tower
Chinese Scientists to Head for Suspected ET Relics

Also, check out these unusual pictures of the mysterious disks found in China, thought to be 12,000 years old.

Official position on the Philadelphia Experiment

"Personnel at the Fourth Naval District believe that the questions surrounding the so-called "Philadelphia Experiment" arise from quite routine research which occurred during World War II at the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard. Until recently, it was believed that the foundation for the apocryphal stories arose from degaussing experiments which have the effect of making a ship undetectable or "invisible" to magnetic mines. Another likely genesis of the bizarre stories about levitation, teleportation and effects on human crew members might be attributed to experiments with the generating plant of a destroyer, the USS Timmerman. In the 1950's this ship was part of an experiment to test the effects of a small, high-frequency generator providing l,000 hz instead of the standard 400hz. The higher frequency generator produced corona discharges, and other well known phenomena associated with high frequency generators. None of the crew suffered effects from the experiment.

ONR has never conducted any investigations on invisibility, either in 1943 or at any other time (ONR was established in 1946.) In view of present scientific knowledge, ONR scientists do not believe that such an experiment could be possible except in the realm of science fiction."

For the full 1996 statement, see the source for the above, at:
http://www.history.navy.mil/faqs/faq21-2.htm

And here's a neat article on Carl(os) Allen(de), the elusive odd man behind the mystery:
http://www.parascope.com/en/articles/allende.htm

Epitaph for Captain Oates

On Saturday March 17th 1912, Captain Lawrence (Laurie) 'Titus' Oates, a member of Robert Falcon Scott's British Antarctic expedition to reach the South Pole, said his famous last words:

"I am just going outside and may be some time.".

Captain Oates walked out of the tent, in his socks, to meet a certain death in the terrible blizzard. He decided to sacrifice himself so that his fellow expeditionaries would have a better chance to survive without his burden.

It was his 32nd birthday. His body was never found, and lies today somewhere under 75 feet of snow and ice.

His epitaph, left by his cross, reads:

"Hereabouts died a very gallant gentleman, Captain L. E. G. Oates of the Inniskilling Dragoons. In March 1912, returning from the Pole, he walked willingly to his death in a blizzard to try to save his comrades, beset by hardship."

[source: Huxley, E. - 'Scott of the Antarctic', p. 258.]

A recent book by Michael Smith pays homage to this hero, revealing that he never found out he was a father.

SOURCE FOR THIS PICTURE: Wayback Machine, the Irish publishing house Collins Press

Diving for the 'Mary Celeste' - Weird Caribbean (1)

If for some humanitarian reason you happen to be traveling to Haiti and (1) have some leisure time and some spare money and (2) are deep into adventure tourism (diving in exotic locations), the wreck of the famous 'Mary Celeste' might be a choice for you. The exact location of the wreck was discovered in 2001 by Clive Cussler, the bestselling author. It's right by a small island where the natives' houses are made of seashells! There are sharks, so go prepared. Email me if you want more specifics, like the GPS coordinates.

For those unfamiliar with the Mary Celeste: 1872, the ship was found drifting in the Azores, no signs of violence, no captain, no wife, no baby, no crew, nothing... a true mystery of the high seas. What happened to them? Pirates? Mass suicide? Definitely a subject well worth researching online. Read the inquest, check the different theories and give it a shot with your own conjecture...

Ornithorincus or Duck-Billed Platypus: not here, anyway

Ever wanted to see a live Duck-Billed Platypus (Ornithorincus anatinus, from the family Ornithorhynchidae)?

Well, time to pack for Australia, then - there's little chance of seeing a live specimen elsewhere. They are simply not available in zoos in America or Europe, I guess because they are so difficult to keep alive and well in captivity.

By far, your best chances are at the Taronga Zoo in Sidney and at the Healesville Sanctuary in Melbourne, Victoria.

Mozart's skull DNA'd

Ok, one new item to the list of ancient celebrities whose 'remains' have recently been DNA'd for verification.

Will we all have DNA markers on our graves in the future?

A few weeks ago, I read this morning in an article by Associated Press's Susanna Loof, that DNA tests could soon confirm if a skull held by the International Mozarteum Foundation is that of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. The skull was acquired in 1902, but some experts believe it belongs to a woman. Others submit to the evaluation made a few years ago by by French anthropologists from the University of Provence. Their analisys on the teeth indicates that the skull had belonged to a man between 25 and 40 years of age. Moreover, superimposed photographs on pictures of Amadeus, show that the skull's high cheekbones and the egg-shaped forehead fit in quite well.

Apparently, a grave in Salzburg thought to contain the remains of Mozart's father and other relatives is being scanned by archaeologists to collect the appropriate DNA. Last Monday, they found Mozart's niece, Jeanette who died at 16. Along with Leopold and Constanze, Mozart's wife, there are seven other skeletons.

In any event, confirmation results will only be available for discussion early next year.

It is known that Mozart died in 1791 and was buried in an unmarked grave for the pennyless at Vienna's St. Marxer Cemetery. The location of the grave was initially unknown, but its likely location was determined in 1855. Says Ms. Loof: "The grave on that spot is adorned by a column and a sad-looking angel.

First notes: Eusapia Palladino

First notes: Eusapia Palladino
I have begun collecting information on the fascinating true story of Eusapia Pallatino and the experimental psychic sessions in which she participated at Ile Roubaud in the summer of 1894, and later at Cambridge (1895).

I think Eusapia's story would make material for a decent screenplay - one that should uncover the complexities of this controversial hoax-or-not situation. It leaves people to wonder if there was indeed more to it than it seemed. Her issues explain the actual hidden motives. Her story is just as powerful as that of Daniel Douglas Home, that man who would levitate before crowds and touch the ceilings with his fingertips, as he left a room through the window.

The setting at the Côte d'Azur would be fantastic. The old lighthouse and the actual house still exist, and surprisingly, the island remains private. I read somewhere that it belongs to the descendants of Charles Richet, the Nobel prize winning doctor who invited Eusapia and the other guests to the experiment. They still use it for their summer vacations.

Side stories to the plot could include British researcher Myers's own inspiration - a suicidal girlfriend, and his efforts to reach for her in his grief. As for Eusapia and her volatile personality, it provides for a study in forms of human weirdness. It is atypical and yet common enough that people can relate with her by trying to understand the source of her unpredictable behavior.

More to follow - stay tuned!

Friday, December 31, 2004