Showing posts with label mythbusters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mythbusters. Show all posts

Monday, February 27, 2012

I'm Burning For You: Spontaneous Human Combustion

LYRIC O’ THE DAY:
So pardon me while I burst into flames
I’ve had enough of the world and its people’s mindless games
So pardon me while I burn and rise above the flames
--Pardon me, Incubus
There are times when I feel like I am on fire, figuratively speaking.  I’m focused, productive--a whirling dervish of epic organization and creativity.
And then there are the other 364 days of the year.
But I guess a figurative fire in your soul is better than a literal one, which brings me to the subject of today’s mythbusters.  Spontaneous Human Combustion (SHC) is the burning of a living human body without obvious source of external ignition.  In theory, some internal milieu creates an ideal environment for the subject to burst into flames.  In the last 300 years, about 200 cases of the phenomenon have been reported.  With over six billion people in the world, this makes human torchdom an uber-rare occurrence except in comic books.


There are a variety of explanations for the phenomenon, ranging from the paranormal to the physiological.  Almost all cases involve people who are sedentary, either due to obesity or age, and most are in poor health or otherwise impaired by drugs or alcohol. 
The earliest suggested case of SHC was in Italy in 1470 when Polonus Vorstius, a knight known to love his wine and women, supposedly quaffed a particularly wicked brandy one evening and then spewed forth flames and died.  I had a similar reaction after drinking a concoction my bestie at the time made for me called The Three Wise Men.  Jim, Jack and Johnnie were never meant to be mixed.  (FYI, if you add Jaeger, it’s called The Four Horseman.  And you should definitely prepare for the apocalypse if you’re still standing afterwards.)

The first scientific evaluation of Spontaneous Human Combustion came from Danish physician Thomas Bartholin in 1663.  He described a woman in Paris who seemingly burned alive while sleeping--however, the straw mattress she slept upon remained intact.  Fifty years later, Nicole Millet, the alcoholic wife of a wealthy French landlord, burned to death while seated in her chair in the family kitchen.  After her death, Monsieur Millet was arrested for her murder. Using the defense of spontaneous human combustion, he was acquitted of all charges.  Jonas Dupont, another Frenchman, was so inspired by this story that he published a collection of SHC cases in his “De Incendiis Corporis Humani Spontaneis” in 1763.
A famous U.S. case of human combustion involved a physician named John Irving Bentley.  Bentley, a 92 year-old pipe smoker, was found in his bathroom by a meter reader--or at least the lower half of his right leg (slipper intact) and his walker were found.  The charred hole that surrounded the doctor was approximately two feet square, but the remainder of the house was intact.  Given the condition of the body, the coroner could only comment that death was likely due to asphyxiation and burning of the body, possibly with pipe tobacco as an ignition. 
Forensic photo taken of the remains of Dr. Bentley
Some religious zealots use cases such as these as a sign of the Big Guy laying down some heavenly smiting.  Why an elderly man on his way to the loo deserved smiting remains unexplained, but in April 2011, a man supposedly burst into flames while watching videos in a San Francisco porn shop.  I don't believe the case was divinely orchestrated, but is an impressive feat of friction to say the least.
The most researched case of SHC is that of St. Petersburg, Florida resident Mary Reeser in 1951.  Mary was a portly woman who settled down in her armchair with a cocktail of sleeping pills, alcohol, and a cigarette one night, only to awaken a victim of SHC.  When she was found, her skull had burned to the size of a baseball, but most of the chair, as well as the surrounding room, was unscathed (granted, her apartment was floored and walled with concrete).  The FBI and some of the nation’s best forensic scientists were involved in her case.  
Reeser’s case exemplifies the hypothesis of “the wick effect,” in which a small external flame--in this case, the cigarette--chars the clothing of the victim, eventually splitting the skin below.  In a more rotund person that is impaired with mother’s little helpers, this slow burn may not be sensed.  Fat is released from the wound, which is then absorbed by the clothing.  And now you have a wick for a very human candle.  Forensic scientist John DeHaan experimentally supported this theory using a dead pig wrapped in cloth.  
Not part of DeHaan's experiment.  Saliva is a poor fire extinguisher.
The fire fueled by the pig's body fat released less than 80 kilowatts of heat--no more than a large waste basket fire.  This explained why surrounding items often do not ignite and why there is usually lots of sooty, greasy residue left behind.  Essentially a body becomes a large tallow candle under the right circumstances:  impaired victim, ready amounts of fuel (i.e. copious corpulence), and some kind of ignition, be it cigarette, misguided ember, or electricity.   For those of you partial to CSI, Grissom and his band of merry forensicists replicated DeHaan's experiment on an episode dealing with SHC.   
If the wick effect doesn’t light your fire, there are still other explanations.  Skeptics often believe that most of these incidents are actually murder coverups and an accelerant is just never identified.  Others suggest that special circumstances in the victim combined with high energy particles or static electricity may serve as an ignition source.  Alcoholic victims are thought to be more susceptible due to that tasty accelerant in their bloodstreams.  That theory was supported by Charles Dickens when he used it to kill off his character Krook in the novel Bleak House.  However, if the ignition of an alcohol requires a mix that is around 40% ethanol, but death via alcohol poisoning occurs at around 0.5% blood alcohol level, the likelihood of a human consuming enough alcohol to ignite is nil.  Unless you’re Keith Richards.
Do not light that cigarette, Keith.
Larry Arnold, a self-proclaimed SHC expert, suggested there is a subatomic particle called the pyroton that is responsible.  This particle (whose existence has never been confirmed) interacts with human cells to create a mini-power generator and explosion.  Sort of like nuclear fission on a cellular level.  Other less explosive theories include spontaneous MASER (microwave amplification by stimulated emission of radiation) beams, which can occur in nature from decaying atoms and geomagnetism.  
For all of you yoga lovers out there, the pyrokinetic powers of kundalini have also been implicated.  Kundalini is described as a dormant energy within all humans, normally coiled at the base of the spine.  It often is represented by a serpent.  Through meditation and yoga, one can awaken the kundalini and make it rise until it reaches the top of the head, producing a powerful awakening in those who experience it.  It is suggested that those who cannot channel this heat energy properly may find themselves injured.

Cobra pose at your own risk.
My favorite explanation for Spontaneous Human Combustion comes from that bastion of reliable scientific information, South Park. 

Randy Marsh, father extraordinaire, explains SHC as a new lover’s phenomenon.  Victims try to avoid passing gas in front of their new sweetheart, and in doing so create a methane bomb waiting to happen.  This cartoon theory actually has a factual basis.  Hydrogen and methane are flammable gases produced by bacteria in the gastrointestinal tract, mainly the large bowel.  There are case reports of intraoperative explosions ignited from the combination of cautery, methane, and the high oxygen environment of the surgical suite.
The idea of bursting into flames due to flatulence should serve as a lesson to fraternity boys across the nation.



Have a wonderful week!  I am looking forward to some days off after being on service for the past month so I can catch up with blogs and writing!  I also need to post responses to some awesome blog awards I received last week, so stay tuned.  Thanks Annalisa, Trisha, and Kathleen for thinking of me!  

Saturday, February 4, 2012

Cutting the Devil's Chord

LYRIC O’ THE DAY:
Oh yeah, life goes on.
Long after the thrill of living is gone
--Jack and Diane, John Mellencamp
My sons have recently discovered the joy that is playing the air guitar.  In honor of their burgeoning skills, I thought I’d delve into a musical myth this week. 
I’m a fan of heavy metal.  Some of you may shake your heads, associating that kind of music with a bunch of screaming longhairs and whining guitars.  But there’s a connection from my Black Sabbath to Wagner and classic jazz--and even to West Side Story for those of you into show tunes.
That link is the tritone--aka, the Devil’s chord.

Tritones are musical intervals that span three whole tones.  For those of you who are not musically inclined, think back to Julie Andrews and her chirpy Sound of Music number.  Do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti-do is the major scale that most music is based upon.  Playing from C to C on the piano, it includes all the white keys.  However, there are these half step keys arranged within the major scale, i.e. the black keys.  For example, between F and G, there is F sharp (#).

The classic Devil’s chord is C and F# played either in succession or simultaneously.  It is also known as the augmented fourth or the diminished/flatted fifth.  The perfect fifth (C and G) was the first accepted harmony of the Gregorian chant after the octave.  Thus, the use of this “bastardized” fifth was so disagreeable to medieval musicians that it was often referred to as the Diabolus in Musica (“the Devil in music”).
As with so many things associated with old red and horny, there’s mythology that follows the Devil’s chord.  According to some scholars, the use of the chord was first publicly shunned in the 11th century thanks to the Catholic Church.  The Church suggested that the sound invoked the Devil and caused those who heard it to become sexually aroused.  Composers who did not heed the warning to not use the evil chord were beaten, excommunicated and sometimes killed.  However, no solid evidence of musical murder has ever been found, and many feel the Church disdain for the dissonant chord may have been over exaggerated.
The unpleasant sound was not the only reason this chord may have been associated with the Devil.  Some make the assertion that since a tritone represents three whole tones, and thus six semitones, it could be a nod to the number of the naughty--666.
Eventually, musicians broke from superstition and experimented with the tritone during the Romantic period.  Composers were looking for a sound to represent evil, and the tritone fit the bill.  Wagner was a huge fan of the tritone, using it liberally in his work Gotterdammerung during a pagan ritual scene.  Camille Saint-Saens used it in his Danse Macabre as skeletons came to life on All Hallow’s Eve.  Giuseppe Tartini, one of Europe’s greatest violinists, claimed that the Devil came to him in a dream, teaching him the intricate and nearly impossible “The Devil’s Trill,” a work filled with tritones.
The Devil meets Tartini in his dreams.

Here's a scene from the Gotterdammerung using tritones:

In more modern times, heavy metal adopted the sound, although perhaps not consciously.  Tommy Iommi, metal guitar god of the group Black Sabbath, found the chord just “sounded right”.  


Heavy blues and jazz artists also used the chord--here it is in the opening riffs of Jimi Hendrix's Purple Haze, perhaps as a wicked musical warning about the use of hallucinogens. 


Other bands used the chord to enhance their devilish mystique.  Slayer’s album Diabolus in Musica is an example.  British comedian Bill Bailey gives his insight into metal's embrace of this interval in the following clip:


Although the chord’s origins are debated, there’s no denying that it evokes a certain feeling in the listener. I have to admit that some music I’ve listened to just sounds evil, especially when I was going through that Norwegian Death Metal phase I had a few years back. 


Dissonance can become a motif--it announces a type of character, or gives a certain mood.  Tritones are often seen in movie music, announcing that Mr. Bad has walked on to the screen or that the promiscuous prom queen is about to meet the business end of a chainsaw.
But as for the idea that a musical chord can bring forth the devil, it’s plausible only if you are one of those people who never could say “Bloody Mary” three times in front of a mirror as a kid.  For me, the chord is far more fantastic than phantasmal. 

It represents a perfect imperfection.  

If we were never meant to hear things that are not quite right--the things that evoke emotions that are twisted or confusing--those half step keys would never have been included in the scales.  
It’s the imperfections that create depth and substance.
I think that’s true in writing characters, too.

Have a fantastic day!  I leave you with a devilish ditty from West Side Story.

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Unicorns: Pooping rainbows since the beginning of time

LYRIC O’ THE DAY:
Selling them whiskey and taking their gold
Enslaving the young and destroying the old
Run to the hills.  Run for your lives.
--Run to the Hills, Iron Maiden

The unicorn is one of my favorite mythical beasts, immortalized in story, art and song.  The song part I’ve experienced first hand after my best friend wore a giant penis- shaped hat into a local Irish Pub.  Before you question her fashion chops, it was her bachelorette party and phallic items are like the little black dress of those affairs.  Within a minute of our arrival, the Celtic Folk Band playing that night launched into this song: 

Unicorns have existed in Eastern mythologies for thousands of years.  These unicorns, aka Kilin or Qilin, are not the white stallions of Western folktales.  The Eastern unicorn is colorful and dragon-like.  It has the tail of an ox, the body of a deer and the hooves of a horse.  Folklore gives the Eastern Unicorn props for giving Emperor Fu Hsi (the inventor of writing) a scroll of characters that later inspired the Chinese alphabet.  Which makes unicorns the official writer’s muse.  Here’s a very cool interpretation of a Kilin by BlackUniGryphon on Deviant Art.

The Western unicorn evolved from tales gathered from Middle Eastern cultures in the 4th century B.C.  A Greek physician named Ctesias wrote about the wild asses of India, fantastical beasts with white bodies, red heads, dark blue eyes and an 18” multicolored horn sticking out of their skulls.  Although Ctesias never actually saw a unicorn, his manuscripts were enough to sway Aristotle as well, who believed an animal like this seemed no more fantastical than a giraffe or a zebra.  

Over the centuries, others told tales of unicorns, including Pliny the Elder and Roman scholar Aelian.  Alexander the Great claimed he rode a unicorn into battle.  Julius Caesar said he saw one in the forests of Germany.  Al Gore said he invented the unicorn.  And Neil Patrick Harris saw one when he was stoned on mushrooms.

The last unicorn sighting is attributed to Genghis Khan, who ran into the beast on his way to conquer India.  He took it as a sign from heaven to turn back, and India was spared.  Marco Polo also saw unicorns, but historians now believe the fantastical animals he described were rhinoceroses.  Or rhinoceri.
The unicorn achieved religious status when the Old Testament was translated into Greek around 300 B.C.  The Hebrew version mentioned a beast called the Re’em, described as “fleet, fierce, indomitable, and distinguished by the armor of its brow.”
The Books of Job, Psalms, and Numbers all mention unicorns.  In some translations, the unicorn was the first thing Adam named in the Garden of Eden.  When he and Eve were ousted, the unicorn went with them as a reminder of the loss of purity and chastity.  Sort of like an equine mother-in-law.
In medieval times, the unicorn was sometimes used to represent Christ.  A series of seven beautiful unicorn tapestries dated to the 1500s is owned by the Cloisters in NYC.  It depicts the Hunt of the Unicorn, which some believe is a symbolic representation of the passion of Christ.  The pictures follow the capture and killing of the unicorn, and then its resurrection in captivity to live among men.  The final tapestry shows the archetypal unicorn as we know it.
The unicorn killed and brought to the city.
The seventh tapestry shows the unicorn captured---but very much alive.  Some feel this represents Christ's resurrection.
How did hunters catch a unicorn?  Just like in many a romance novel, apparently all it took was a virgin.  According to belief, unicorns are completely smitten by virgins and rendered docile and helpless. In fact, rumor has it many a unicorn met its demise with its head in the lap of a virgin.  Which is a sexual metaphor for a very different blog. 
Zampieri's Unicorn and Virgin Fresco.
Other less Freudian explanations of the unicorn's demise were also popular.  For instance, Jewish folktales claim that during Noah’s great flood, the unicorns were so demanding that they were banished from the ship.  Other stories claim they were too busy playing to notice the coming rains.  When the great flood hit, the unicorns were forced to swim.  This has led some to speculate that God changed the unicorns into narwhals so they would not perish.  


Around the 19th century, unicorns were retired to folklore and fairy tales.  All of the “true unicorns” were thought to have been hunted to extinction for their horns, aka the alicorn.  The alicorn had the ability to neutralize poisons and provide immortality for those who drank a potion made from it.  Royalty often had their eating utensils made from alicorn to prevent poisoning.  Fake alicorns were rampant as they were worth more money than gold.  Many actually were horns from bulls or oryx.  Queen Elizabeth I owned a unicorn horn in her private collection, but it was later determined to be from a narwhal.
A narwhal.
Such horny animal confusion gives support to the belief that the unicorn was indeed a real creature.  Some historians believe it originated from sightings of an extinct Eurasian rhinocerus called the Elasmotherium.

Others blame genetic malformations of normally two horned beasts.  The search for a living unicorn has led to some popular hoaxes.  In the 1930s, Dr. W. Franklin Dove manipulated a calf’s horn buds to make a bull with a single horn growing from its head.  Others repeated the experiment with goats--P.T. Barnum often included these faux unicorns in his sideshows.  The most famous one was a goat named Lancelot.

Unicorn Deer photograph from TIME in 2008.
Dr. Dove's creation. 

Lancelot and unidentified virgin.




You may never see a true unicorn these days, but if you’re in the mood for a fun recipe, try this one my sons and I came up with for Unicorn Poop.  There's a rainbow in every bite.
Melt together 3 TBSP Butter, 10 oz mini marshmellows on the stove or microwave.  Add six cups of Fruit Loops cereal and mix off of the heat.  With buttered hands, shape into small balls.  Dip into white frosting and top with colored sprinkles.  If you have a unicorn with some issues, like my sons and I did, sour gummy worms are a nice touch.

"...Well, now that we have seen each other," said the Unicorn, "If you'll believe in me, I'll believe in you."
--
Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll


Monday, January 16, 2012

Gargoyles: Gettin' out of the Gutter

LYRIC O’ THE DAY:
Go and look for the dejected
Once proud idol remembered in stone aloud
--A God in an Alcove, Bauhaus
The Hubs loves garden gnomes.  I find them to be just a diminutive relative of the equally as evil clown.  Hubs buys a suitable obnoxious resin one every year and sticks it somewhere in my garden, where it waits to come alive and disembowel me while I'm picking tomatoes.  About mid July, Hubs' special gnome has a horrible accident, usually involving my shovel and a flask of holy water.

So this year, we are compromising on yard art.  With gargoyles.
The frightening creatures that perch on many a Gothic rooftop actually were created with a utilitarian purpose in mind.  Need a hint?  The term gargoyle in old French is derived from “throat” or “to swallow.”  Now if you have a mind that works like mine, you’ve probably just labeled this site NSFW and are bracing for pictures of gargoyle porn.  I hate to disappoint, but these evil entities of the eaves actually were designed as waterspouts.

Gargoyle drainspout

Superstition held that gargoyles would frighten away evil spirits and keep your building foundation intact, too.  After the lead drainpipe was introduced, their function become more decorative.  A gargoyle used purely for decor is called a “grotesque.”  The earliest gargoyles were fashioned in the image of wild animals, pets, and mythical monsters.  The Temple of Zeus even had gargoyles, as did Egyptian architecture.  Some of the most famous gargoyles are found in Paris at Notre Dame.
Gargoyles found at the Temple of Zeus

Gargoyle overlooking Paris from the cathedral of Notre Dame
A French legend involving St. Romanus attempted to explain the use of gargoyles on religious buildings in Europe.  In the 600s AD, St. Romanus saved the city of Rouen (of Joan of Arc fame) from a dragon-like creature named La Gargouille.  When the monster was destroyed in a ceremonial pyre, its head and neck would not burn.  Therefore, St. Romanus mounted the head on the walls of the church to protect it from evil spirits and an architectural phenomenon was born.


It seems an odd contrast--these monstrous images juxtaposed with the piety of the Church and the majestic precision of Gothic cathedral architecture.  So why did so many churches embrace a beast resembling the Devil on their rooftops?  Many believe that as ancient tribes from Celtic and Gaulish descent became assimilated into Christianity, gargoyles and grotesques offered a familiar touchstone for them given their roots in polytheistic mythologies and idol worship.  Religious leaders soon discovered that using statues and carvings was an excellent way to educate the illiterate.  Gargoyles were used to depict sins, both literally and figuratively.  Gargoyles were hideous and frightening, a symbol of the dark forces outside the church that waited to corrupt man.  Some gargoyles were giants devouring humans or the stone walls of the church itself--perhaps a lesson in the things that try to eat away at the soul.  

The Seven Deadly Sins according to Gargoyles.

The naughty gargoyles at Valencia.   I'm delivering on that gargoyle porn I promised.
Although they may have assisted the Church in conveying ideas to the common people, some clergy did not embrace the gargoyle, thinking it was a form of idolatry.  St. Bernard of Clairvaux was the most famous 12th century gargoyle-hater.  His take on the gargoyle was not flattering:
"What are these fantastic monsters doing in the cloisters before the eyes of the brothers as they read? What is the meaning of these unclean monkeys, these strange savage lions, and monsters? To what purpose are here placed these creatures, half beast, half man, or these spotted tigers? I see several bodies with one head and several heads with one body. Here is a quadruped with a serpent's head, there a fish with a quadruped's head, then again an animal half horse, half goat... Surely if we do not blush for such absurdities, we should at least regret what we have spent on them."
The Gargoyle response to the haters.
In 1969, historians TK Sheridan and Ann Ross published a theory that the majority of gargoyles and grotesques in Gothic architectures were actually purposely designed to look like pagan deities.  New converts from pagan religions--many unhappy about leaving their rich traditions--saw them as protection and symbols of strength and purpose.  The Church may have realized that it was impossible to eradicate the extensive religious rituals of pagan worshippers and instead absorbed some of their beliefs to make Christianity a bit more palatable to the pagan masses.
Disney's Gargoyle offering in The Hunchback of Notre Dame
For instance, the Green Man, a Celtic deity that promoted growth and fertility, was a popular subjects for gargoyles in the 12th and 13th century.  Worship of nature was so important and inspirational to many tribes on the edge of the Christian era that religious leaders decided not only to tolerate the image, but to venerate it as well.  Other gargoyles are horned and for the Celts represented prosperity and strength, harking back to the horned gods of the Romans.  Only through years of assimilation have those horned beings started being associated with the Anti-Christ--more horrible than hallowed.
In modern fiction, gargoyles are typically depicted as a winged humanoid race with demonic features: generally horns, a tail, and talons.  During the day, they are changed into their stony form, but can morph into a living creature when the sun goes down.  Paranormal romance has some great gargoyle characters, such as Levet in Alexandra Ivy’s Guardians series.  Terry Pratchett has gargoyles in Discworld, and they were one of the original monsters in the Dungeons and Dragons game.  And one of my favorite childhood throwbacks is a Jonny Quest cartoon, The House of Seven Gargoyles.

Have a wonderful day, and the next time you see a gargoyle, don't be frightened.  They are protecting you.  And if all goes well, here’s the newest addition to my garden.  He's going to kick some gnome ass.


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