Improbable Research

Here are some photos from the Warrington show — the final show on the tour — in this year’s Ig Nobel Tour of the U.K. and Ireland.

The American Nudist Research Library has a fairly simple motto: “Dedicated to preserving nudist history with a comprehensive archive of nudist material”. Like all specialist libraries, it operates with a limited budget. Thus, the library covers only what it needs to. …

So begins this week’s Improbable Research column in The Guardian. Read it here.

Is Trinkaus related to Trinkaus? Investigator Rachel Fink sends enlightenment, or at least information, on the question. The question was posed by investigator P.A. Kucklein, in connnection with Fundulus research, in a letter you can read here. Having read that letter, investigator Fink writes:

I read the June 16, 2004 query from Paul A. Kucklein
and have some info for him.

Kucklein wanted to know if J.P. Trinkaus is related to John W. Trinkaus
(Ig Nobel prize winner), and whether we could expect J.P. to “become as
dedicated an observer and prolific an author as his namesake?” Alas, J.P.
Trinkaus died last year, after a long and prolific life as a developmental
biologist. “Trink” (as he was known) spent his life studying the
movements of cells in early fish embryos, and the “Fundulus” cited in the
title of one of his papers is a little killifish he worked with at the
Marine Biological Laboratory in Woods Hole, MA for 63 summers. These fish
have embryos that are splendidly large and transparent, and Trink was a
master of micromanipulation and patient observation. Trink’s favorite
quote from Yogi Berra was “you can observe a lot by just watching” and
Trink’s detailed analyses of cell movements helped in our understanding of
how an embryo forms skin and muscle and bone.

I worked with Trink for close to 2 decades, and think he would have been
tickled to be discussed in the Annals of Improbable Research. He knew the
role serendipity plays in science, and many of his most elegant
discoveries came from simple manipulations that became “improbably”
illuminating.

I have no idea if Trink was related to John W. Trinkaus (but I do know he
was named after John Philip Sousa, the Marching Band Music King, who was
some kind of cousin). Before he died, Trink published his memoirs, and
anyone interested in his life and work can find his story at bn.com or
amazon.com. The book is: Embryologist: My Eight Decades in Developmental
Biology, by John Philip Trinkaus. 2003. J&S Publishing Co.

Respectfully submitted,
Rachel Fink
Professor of Biological Sciences
Mount Holyoke College
South Hadley, MA 01075

Is Trinkaus related to Trinkaus? Investigator Rachel Fink sends enlightenment, or at least information, on the question. The question was posed by investigator P.A. Kucklein, in connnection with Fundulus research, in a letter you can read here. Having read that letter, investigator Fink writes:

I read the June 16, 2004 query from Paul A. Kucklein
and have some info for him.

Kucklein wanted to know if J.P. Trinkaus is related to John W. Trinkaus
(Ig Nobel prize winner), and whether we could expect J.P. to “become as
dedicated an observer and prolific an author as his namesake?” Alas, J.P.
Trinkaus died last year, after a long and prolific life as a developmental
biologist. “Trink” (as he was known) spent his life studying the
movements of cells in early fish embryos, and the “Fundulus” cited in the
title of one of his papers is a little killifish he worked with at the
Marine Biological Laboratory in Woods Hole, MA for 63 summers. These fish
have embryos that are splendidly large and transparent, and Trink was a
master of micromanipulation and patient observation. Trink’s favorite
quote from Yogi Berra was “you can observe a lot by just watching” and
Trink’s detailed analyses of cell movements helped in our understanding of
how an embryo forms skin and muscle and bone.

I worked with Trink for close to 2 decades, and think he would have been
tickled to be discussed in the Annals of Improbable Research. He knew the
role serendipity plays in science, and many of his most elegant
discoveries came from simple manipulations that became “improbably”
illuminating.

I have no idea if Trink was related to John W. Trinkaus (but I do know he
was named after John Philip Sousa, the Marching Band Music King, who was
some kind of cousin). Before he died, Trink published his memoirs, and
anyone interested in his life and work can find his story at bn.com or
amazon.com. The book is: Embryologist: My Eight Decades in Developmental
Biology, by John Philip Trinkaus. 2003. J&S Publishing Co.

Respectfully submitted,
Rachel Fink
Professor of Biological Sciences
Mount Holyoke College
South Hadley, MA 01075

Investigator Verena Wieloch writes about a young researcher she happened to see:

I got to go to the invitation only dress-rehearsal of the Lion King last
night,

We had a four year old doing a very hilarious play by play behind us. The mother was apologetic, but the kid was so funny, we didn’t care.

Sister: What are all those bones for?
Kid: Everything’s dead.

At the qiet moment, when one character on stage has just mentioned a secret, he inquires honestly “What’s a secret?”

One of the main characters dies and Kid goes “Those people don’t die in real life, right?”

Lions come on stage and fight with swords. Kid insists “Lions don’t have swords.” A few minutes later, more insistently, “Lions DON’T HAVE SWORDS.”

And in the quiet ending of the romantic scene, he says “Is it over now?”

Investigator Wieloch’s letter illustrates, yet again, the principle outlined in the AIR Teachers’ Guide, that kids are naturally good scientists (and that we should help them stay that way).

Here are some photos from the London show in this year’s Ig Nobel Tour of the U.K. and Ireland.

Even sandcastles seem to suggest something about science. Read a Bournemouth University press release about it here.

Thanks to Jonathan Newton for bringing this to our attention.

The recent novel The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, by Mark Haddon, has been justly celebrated for an innovation: its first-person narrator is autistic and of mathematical bent. But for postal historians, the novel has weightier significance. Curious Incident is the second most compelling book that involves both (a) the mysterious death of a dog and (b) lots of mail….

So begins this week’s Improbable Research column in The Guardian. Read it here.

The winners of the GUMMING-UP-THE-WORKS LIMERICK COMPETITION were announced in mini-AIR 2004-07. Each winner in some sense explored the research report:

“Adult Sudden Death Caused by Aspiration of Chewing Gum,” S.N. Njau, Forensic Science International, vol. 139, nos. 2-3, January 28, 2004, pp. 103-6. The author, who is at Aristotle University of Thessaloniki, Greece, reports that:

“A 24-year-old white male died suddenly. A piece of chewing gum lodged in a pool of frothy fluid was revealed at autopsy. … No alcohol or other drugs were detected in blood or urine.”

Here some runners up:

INVESTIGATOR D. HOMUTH:
If the froth in your throat starts to trickle,
Be advised — DON’T aspire your chicle.
A Greek male, seems as how,
Died from that. (S.N. Njau)
His autopsy affirmed: Death is fickle.

INVESTIGATOR G.R. CHAMBERS:
An aspiring young man who’s from Greece
Chewed gum. He was found by police
To have choked on the spot.
The autopsy did not
Find traces of booze or hashish.

INVESTIGATOR C. MEDBERY III:
He died while chewing his gum
He was found lying flat on his bum.
We don’t really know
How many die so,
But we doubt it’s a very large sum

INVESTIGATOR B. MCGRAIL:
A Caucasian young man choked on fluid
Resulting from gum carelessly chew-ed.
Officials could see
From his blood and his pee
That he neither was ston-ed nor stew-ed.

There is an unusually incisive self-portrait of a human being who is at home in both technical and non-technical realms. It appears on the entity known as Craig’s List.

The July issue of mini-AIR just went out. Read it here.

Here are some photos from the Manchester show in this year’s Ig Nobel Tour of the U.K. and Ireland. Over the next several weeks we will be posting photos from the other shows on the tour, too.

Jasmuheen has posted recordings of herself discussing the nutritional value of light.

Jasmuheen (formerly known as Ellen Greve) of Australia, first lady of Breatharianism, was awarded the 2002 Ig Nobel Prize for Nutrition, for her book “Living on Light,” which explains that although some people do eat food, they don’t ever really need to.

Find her recordings here.

When Dr Wilfred Selvage took his own life a decade ago at the age of 86, the obituaries stressed the greatness of the man and his pioneering methods…

So begins this week’s Improbable Research column in The Guardian. Read it here.

If you count bugs in Britain, please file your information. Do it the Big Bug Count headquarters,here. If necessary, use the Big Bug Count Splatometer, a copy of which can be obtained here.

For advanced bug-splat identification, see Mark Hosteteler’s Ig Nobel Prize-winning book, here.