From Lee Sallows:

A recent contribution to Futility Closet showed an atypical type of 3×3 geometric magic square in which the 4 pieces occupying each of its nine 2×2 subsquares are able to tile the same rectangle. A different square with the same property is seen in the figure here shown, where the nine tiled rectangles appear at right.

As in the earlier example, the square is to be interpreted as if drawn on a torus, the relations among its peripheral cells then being the same as those that result if the square is surrounded with copies of itself, as seen in the following figure showing four such copies, one in each quadrant:

The figure makes it easier to identify the different 2 × 2 subsquares, exactly nine distinct examples of which can be identified. A brief commentary on the square pointed out that the number of ‘magic’ conditions it satisfies is one greater than the eight conditions demanded by a conventional 3 × 3 magic square. Hence the title of the piece, ‘Extra Magic.’

It was while perusing this diagram that an alternative division of the cells into sets of 4 suggested itself. Instead of 2 × 2 subsquares, consider the four cells defined by a cross that can be centered on any chosen cell. The above figure shows a yellow-shaded example, along with a rectangle tiled by its four associated shapes. It is interesting to note that, as before, there are just nine distinct crosses of this kind to be found in a 3 × 3 square. An obvious question thereby prompted was whether or not a new 3 × 3 magic square could be found based upon such crosses rather than 2×2 subsquares? The answer turned out to be yes, but in the process of scrutinizing an initial specimen I noticed that although it embodied nine cross-based sets of 4 rectangle-tiling pieces, as required, it also included a couple of additional rectangle-tiling sets contained within 2 × 2 subsquares. Clearly the maximum number of such surplus sets would be nine, one for each cross, but could a specimen showing nine cross-based and nine subsquare-based rectangle-tiling sets really exist? I lost no time in seeking an answer.

Regrettably, I was unable to find one. However, the figure below shows a close approach to perfection. It is the same 3 × 3 square with which we started, but now shown alongside no less than eight additional rectangles, each of them tiled with a set of 4 pieces belonging to a cross. Note that the missing rectangle is the one belonging to the non-magic central cross, a show of symmetry that seems appropriate.

So whereas a 3 × 3 magic square, numerical or geometric, satisfies at least 8 separate conditions (3 rows + 3 columns + 2 diagonals), the square here shown satisfies no less than eight more.

(Thanks, Lee.)

P. Anning noted this curiosity in Scripta Mathematica in 1956 — if the middle digit 1 in both the numerator and denominator of 101010101/110010011 is replaced with any odd number of 1s, then the proportion remains the same. And all of these numbers are palindromes!

Waclaw Sierpinski gives a proof in 250 Problems in Elementary Number Theory (1970).

In 1983, University of British Columbia physicist Lorne Whitehead noted “a simple and dramatic demonstration of exponential growth, as in a nuclear chain reaction.” He determined that one domino can knock down another that’s about half again as large in all dimensions; since the gravitational potential energy of an upright domino is proportional to the fourth power of its size, this means that one tiny domino can set off a graduated chain reaction with impressively thunderous results.

Whitehead’s first domino was less than 10 mm high; he nudged it with a piece of cotton. The resulting chain reaction brought down a 13th domino that was 64 times as tall; an investment of 0.024 microjoules at one end had released 51 joules of energy at the other, an amplification factor of about 2 billion.

Of course, it’s possible to construct impressive chains of graduated dominoes even if they grow less dramatically than this one. Here’s a world record set in the Netherlands in 2009:

(Lorne A. Whitehead, “Domino ‘Chain Reaction,'” American Journal of Physics 51:2 [February 1983], 183.)

To multiply this 58-digit number by 6, just move its last digit to its head.

Surprisingly, no smaller number displays this behavior when multiplied by 6. It’s called a parasitic number.

In a 2009 experiment, Keele University researchers Richard Stephens, John Atkins, and Andrew Kingston asked two groups of subjects to hold their hands in ice water. One group was asked to swear while they did so, and the other was asked to say neutral words. The swearers were able to hold their hands in the water twice as long, and these subjects reported feeling less pain.

No one’s quite sure why this works — perhaps swearing activates the amygdala, which leads to a release of adrenaline, producing natural pain relief. Stephens said, “I would advise people, if they hurt themselves, to swear.”

Interestingly, Stephens later found that people who reported swearing every day reported a lesser pain-deadening effect than those who swore less often. Perhaps people who seldom swear place a higher emotional value on these words, which triggers a stronger chemical response.

“Swearing is a very emotive form of language and our findings suggest that over-use of swear words can water down their emotional effect,” Stephens said. “Used in moderation, swearing can be an effective and readily available short-term pain reliever if, for example, you are in a situation where there is no access to medical care or painkillers. However, if you’re used to swearing all the time, our research suggests you won’t get the same effect.”

Clusters of soap bubbles obey some pleasingly simple rules: They arrange themselves into constant-mean-curvature surfaces (such as pieces of spheres) that meet in threes at 120° along seams, which in turn meet in fours at about 109° angles at points.

“Nothing more complicated ever happens,” writes mathematician Frank Morgan, even in complicated clusters with thousands of bubbles.

Belgian physicist Joseph Plateau observed and recorded this fact in the 19th century, but he offered no proof. More than 100 years would go by before Rutgers University mathematician Jean Taylor produced a complete explanation. Her demonstration required no physics or chemistry, just the principle of area minimization.

Morgan writes, “Many pages of complicated mathematics later came the conclusion: Plateau’s laws, 120° angles, 109° angles, and all.”

(Frank Morgan, “Mathematicians, Including Undergraduates, Look at Soap Bubbles,” American Mathematical Monthly 101:4 [April 1994], 343-351.)

In 1959 chemist William J. Buehler of the Naval Ordnance Laboratory was trying to devise a missile nose cone that could withstand extraordinary heat and fatigue. He found a promising alloy of nickel and titanium and passed around a sample at a 1961 laboratory management meeting. The sample had been folded like an accordion, but in examining it Buehler’s colleagues flexed and twisted it out of shape. When of them idly held it over his pipe lighter, they got a surprise: The sample sorted itself back into its accordion shape.

Buehler’s alloy is now known as nitinol (for “nickel titanium Naval Ordnance Laboratory”), and this property is known as “shape memory.” In Nature’s Building Blocks, John Emsley notes, “Spectacle frames made from nitinol can be bent and twisted into remarkable shapes and, when released, will jump back to their original shape.”