Gripping Pages

http://www.google.com/patents/about?id=xjNPAAAAEBAJ

Mark Twain found it exasperating to compose a scrapbook using mucilage and glue. In order to “economize the profanity of this country,” in 1873 he patented a “self-pasting scrapbook” whose pages are already covered with adhesive — the user simply moistens a portion of the page to paste in each piece.

You know that when the average man wants to put something in his scrap book he can’t find his paste — then he swears; or if he finds it, it is dried so hard that it is only fit to eat — then he swears; if he uses mucilage it mingles with the ink, and next year he can’t read his scrap — the result is barrels and barrels of profanity. This can all be saved and devoted to other irritating things, where it will do more real and lasting good, simply by substituting my self-pasting Scrap Book for the old-fashioned one.

Twain called it “the only rational scrapbook the world has ever seen.” It proved to be his only profitable invention, selling still in 1912. One wag called it “a book to which readers could easily become attached.”

Absentee Herding

http://www.google.com/patents?id=iissAAAAEBAJ&printsec=drawing&zoom=4#v=onepage&q&f=false

In 1980 Lem Madden invented a remote control for a horse. The rider operates an electronic transmitter, and the horse is fitted with a receiver that controls the reins. Optionally the receiver can be fitted with a remote-controlled bat for striking the animal and a speaker for giving voice commands.

Who would use such a thing? “An elderly person may be physically unable to mount and rein a horse by himself,” yet need to control it in order to accomplish chores. And “there are those who desire to break and train animals, but who are unable to do so because of the hazards involved with such tasks.” Fair enough.

Hot Air

http://www.futilitycloset.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/2011-06-22-hot-air.jpg" alt="http://books.google.com/books?id=zDVIAAAAIAAJ&printsec=frontcover#v=onepage&q&f=false

The promise of the balloon led equally to rhapsody and raillery in the early 19th century. In 1804 an inventor named Robertson reached the pinnacle of self-satire by proposing “an aerial vessel destined for discoveries” that might tour the world. The Minerva would carry 150,000 pounds, he said, and accommodate 60 passengers:

“The cock (3) is the symbol of watchfulness; it is also the highest point of the balloon. An observer, getting up through the interior to the point at which the watchful fowl is placed, will be able to command the best view to be had in the ‘Minerva.’ The wings at the side (1 and 2) are to be regarded as ornamental. The balloon will be 150 feet in diameter, made expressly at Lyons of unbleached silk, coated within and without with india-rubber. This globe sustains a ship, which contains or has attached to it all the things necessary for the convenience, the observations, and even the pleasures of the voyagers.”

(a) “A small boat, in which the passengers might take refuge in case of necessity, in the event of the larger vessel falling on the sea in a disabled state.”
(b) “A large store for keeping the water, wine, and all the provisions of the expedition.”
(cc) “Ladders of silk, to enable the passengers to go to all parts of the balloon.”
(e) “Closets.”
(h) “Pilot’s room.”
(l) “An observatory, containing the compasses and other scientific instruments for taking the latitude.”
(g) “A room fitted up for recreations, walking, and gymnastics.”
(m) “The kitchen, far removed from the balloon. It is the only place where a fire shall be permitted.”
(p) “Medicine room.”
(v) “A theatre, music room, &c.”
— “The study.”
(x) “The tents of the air-marines, &c. &c.”

“This balloon is certainly the most marvellous that has ever been imagined — quite a town, with its forts, ramparts, cannon, boulevards, and galleries,” noted Fulgence Marion in Wonderful Balloon Ascents (1874). “One can understand the many squibs and satires which so Utopian a notion provoked.”

Yellow Peril

http://www.google.com/patents/about?id=kesMAAAAEBAJ

David Agulnik’s “banana protective device,” patented in 2003, is intended “for storing and transporting a banana carefully.” The hinged cover is padded “to allow the user to carry the banana in a safe manner so that it remains fresh and is protected from becoming bruised.”

“I understand the inventor of the bagpipes was inspired when he saw a man carrying an indignant, asthmatic pig under his arm,” wrote Alfred Hitchcock. “Unfortunately, the man-made sound never equalled the purity of the sound achieved by the pig.”

First and Last

As the computer HAL is being shut down in 2001: A Space Odyssey, it begins singing the song “Daisy Bell”:

Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do,
I’m half crazy, all for the love of you.
It won’t be a stylish marriage–
I can’t afford a carriage–
But you’ll look sweet upon the seat
Of a bicycle built for two.

That’s poetic, in a way. During a visit to Bell Labs in 1961, novelist Arthur C. Clarke had witnessed the first singing computer — physicist John Kelly had programmed an IBM 704 to sing using a speech synthesizer.

The song it sang was “Daisy Bell.”

Sill Power

http://www.google.com/patents/about?id=q-UjAAAAEBAJ

George V. Rael’s “arm protective garment,” patented in 1994, addresses a unique need:

The ordinary motorist may wish to particularly shield his hand and arm from sunburn while driving along on his or her usual daily route, or on longer vacation drives. Air conditioning is great, but driving on a lovely day with one’s arm resting on the ledge of an open car window is found enjoyable by many drivers. The driver’s enjoyment, however, can be shattered if the drive results in a severe sunburn to the hand or arm.

The answer is a combination sleeve and mitten to protect the left arm from the sun’s rays. Presumably there’s an alternate version for vehicles with right-hand drive.

Hope Springs Eternal

http://www.google.com/patents/about?id=w-dSAAAAEBAJ

Hungarian inventor Michael Kispéter offered this safety suit for air travelers in 1915 — a jacket lined with inflatable cushions, a torso-mounted parachute, and a helmet fitted with a spring:

A person falling from the air, equipped with my life saving apparatus, will first open the parachute … Should the person fall into water, the air-cushions will keep him or her afloat, and should the respective person fall on land and the parachute not assure a descent smooth enough to prevent a violent impact with same, the impact will considerably be reduced also by the air cushions. Should the person fall head foremost the sides of the helmet will break on contact with the soil and the resilient means contained in the helmet will mitigate the concussion.

I can’t tell whether Kispéter ever tested his contraption, but he’s not the only inventor who was thinking along these lines.

Cloud Nine

http://www.google.com/patents/about?id=tr81AAAAEBAJ

In 1974 Jack Jensen proposed a new way to stop hijackers from commandeering airplanes — each seat would be fitted with a solenoid-actuated lock in the seatbelt, an inflatable seat back, and a hypodermic syringe. Using remote switches, the crew could lock any passenger into his seat, force his head to his knees, and inject him through the seat cushion with “a strong sedative or poison.”

“Heretofore airlines have adopted numerous measures to curb hijacking, including observation of passengers, use of metal detecting devices, random searching of loading passengers, and the use of armed guards on the aircraft,” reads the patent abstract. “However, such measures … have been ineffective.”

Self-Storage

http://www.google.com/patents/about?id=cSQwAAAAEBAJ

I like this one: If you fill your air mattress with helium you can keep it on the ceiling.

William Calderwood’s 1989 brainstorm automatically increases the floor space in a small apartment. When you get up in the morning the bed floats to the ceiling, and you can spend the day roller-skating beneath it. Then at bedtime you pull it down again by the tether. Best of all, you never have to make the bed, because no one will ever see it!

Invention and Dispatch

http://books.google.com/books?id=qUYOAAAAYAAJ&printsec=frontcover#v=onepage&q&f=false

While [Thomas Edison was] an operator at one station, the telegraph office was greatly infested with cockroaches. Mr. Edison tacked several zinc strips to the walls at intervals of an eighth of an inch, and applied the positive and negative poles of a battery alternately to the strips. He next smeared the walls above the strips with molasses. The long legged bugs came up, and as they stepped from strip to strip, they ‘closed the circuit,’ received the electric shock and dropped dead by scores. Water pails put at the proper places received their bodies as they fell.

— James Baird McClure, ed., Entertaining Anecdotes From Every Available Source, 1879