Secret Admirer

In 1952, strange love letters began to appear on the notice board of Manchester University’s computer department:

HONEY DEAR
YOU ARE MY FERVENT CHARM. MY AVID HEART ARDENTLY IS WEDDED TO YOUR DEVOTED LIKING. MY DEVOTED LOVE PANTS FOR YOUR HUNGER. MY HUNGER CHERISHES YOUR IMPATIENT CHARM. MY FONDNESS DEVOTEDLY PANTS FOR YOUR ADORABLE PASSION.
YOURS KEENLY
M.U.C.

DARLING SWEETHEART
YOU ARE MY AVID FELLOW FEELING. MY AFFECTION CURIOUSLY CLINGS TO YOUR PASSIONATE WISH. MY LIKING YEARNS FOR YOUR HEART. YOU ARE MY WISTFUL SYMPATHY: MY TENDER LIKING.
YOURS BEAUTIFULLY
M.U.C.

M.U.C. was the Manchester University Computer; professor Christopher Strachey was testing its ability to select information randomly by asking it to string romantic words into impromptu billets-doux. You can see the word lists, and generate your own love letter, here.

Podcast Episode 242: The Cardiff Giant

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Cardiff_giant_exhumed_1869.jpg

In 1869, two well diggers in Cardiff, N.Y., unearthed an enormous figure made of stone. More than 600,000 people flocked to see the mysterious giant, but even as its fame grew, its real origins were coming to light. In this week’s episode of the Futility Closet podcast we’ll tell the story of the Cardiff giant, one of the greatest hoaxes of the 19th century.

We’ll also ponder the effects of pink and puzzle over a potentially painful treatment.

See full show notes …

Odor Deafness

Patient H.M. went through experimental brain surgery in the 1950s to address a severe epileptic disorder. He emerged with a curiously compromised sense of smell: He could detect the presence and intensity of an odor, but he couldn’t consciously identify odors or remember them. He was unable to say whether two scents were the same or different, or to match one given scent to another. When asked to make conscious choices, he confused an odor’s quality with its intensity. And although he could name common objects using visual or tactile cues, he couldn’t identify them by smell.

“He can describe what he smells in some detail, but the descriptions do not correlate with the stimulus,” wrote chemist Thomas Hellman Morton, who examined and tested H.M. “Descriptions of the same odor vary widely from one presentation to another, and show no obvious trend when compared to his descriptions of different odors.”

Morton calls this “odor deafness,” by analogy with the “word deafness” found in some stroke victims, who can read, write, and hear but can’t recognize spoken words.

This raises an interesting philosophical question: Does H.M. have a sense of smell? If he can detect the presence of a scent and its intensity but can’t recognize it or distinguish it from others, is he smelling it?

(Thomas Hellman Morton, “Archiving Odors,” in Nalini Bhushan and Stuart Rosenfeld, Of Minds and Molecules, 2000.)

A for Effort

So many more men seem to say that they may soon try to stay at home so as to see or hear the same one man try to meet the team on the moon as he has at the other ten tests.

This ungainly but grammatical 41-word sentence was constructed by Anton Pavlis of Guelph, Ontario, in 1983. It’s an alphametic: If each letter is replaced with a digit (EOMSYHNART = 0123456789), then you get a valid equation:

   SO     31
 MANY   2764
 MORE   2180
  MEN    206
 SEEM   3002
   TO     91
  SAY	 374
 THAT   9579
 THEY   9504
  MAY    274
 SOON   3116
  TRY    984
   TO     91
 STAY   3974
   AT     79
 HOME   5120
   SO     31
   AS     73
   TO     91
  SEE    300
   OR     18
 HEAR   5078
  THE    950
 SAME   3720
  ONE    160
  MAN    276
  TRY    984
   TO     91
 MEET   2009
  THE    950
 TEAM   9072
   ON     16
  THE    950
 MOON   2116
   AS     73
   HE     50
  HAS    573
   AT     79
  THE    950
OTHER  19508
+ TEN    906

TESTS  90393

Apparently this appeared in the Journal of Recreational Mathematics in 1972; I found the reference in the April 1983 issue of Crux Mathematicorum, which confirmed (by computer) that the solution is unique.

Seems Right

SPRING SUMMER AUTUMN WINTER SUNDAY MONDAY TUESDAY WEDNESDAY THURSDAY FRIDAY SATURDAY JANUARY FEBRUARY MARCH APRIL MAY JUNE JULY AUGUST SEPTEMBER OCTOBER NOVEMBER DECEMBER ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY TWENTY-ONE TWENTY-TWO TWENTY-THREE TWENTY-FOUR TWENTY-FIVE TWENTY-SIX TWENTY-SEVEN TWENTY-EIGHT TWENTY-NINE THIRTY THIRTY-ONE contains 365 letters.

(Dave Morice, “Kickshaws,” Word Ways 33:2 [May 2000], 133-145.)

03/06/2019 UPDATE: Reader Jean-Claude Georges finds that this works in French too if you label the categories (year, seasons, months, days, numbers):

seems right update

“And as in Dave Morice’s text, just add a ‘B’ (for bissextile = leap) after ‘AN’ to get 366 for leap years.” (Thanks, Jean-Claude.)

For Pi Day

https://mobile.twitter.com/Cshearer41/status/1054674051388661760

From the prolifically interesting Catriona Shearer: The red line is perpendicular to the bases of the three semicircles. What’s the total area shaded in yellow?

Click for Answer

A Thorough Anagram

This is incredible. In 2005, mathematician Mike Keith took a 717-word section from the essay on Mount Fuji in Lafcadio Hearn’s 1898 Exotics and Retrospective and anagrammed it into nine 81-word poems, each inspired by an image from Hokusai’s famous series of landscape woodcuts, the Views of Mount Fuji.

That’s not the most impressive part. Each anagrammed poem can be arranged into a 9 × 9 square, with one word in each cell. Stacking the nine grids produces a 9 × 9 × 9 cube. Make two of these cubes, and then:

  • In Cube “D” (for Divisibility), assign each cell the number “1” if the sum of the letter values in the corresponding word (using A=1, B=2, C=3 etc.) is exactly divisible by 9, or “0” if it is not.
  • In Cube “L” (for Length), assign each cell the number “1” if its word has exactly nine letters, or “0” if it does not.

Replace each “1” cell with solid wood and each “0” cell with transparent glass. Now suspend the two cubes in a room and shine beams of light from the top and right onto Cube D and from the front and right onto Cube L:

mike keith anagram cubes

The shadows they cast form reasonable renderings of four Japanese kanji characters relevant to the anagram:

The red shadow is the symbol for fire.
The green shadow is the symbol for mountain.
Put together, these make the compound Kanji symbol (“fire-mountain”) for volcano.

The white shadow is the symbol for wealth, pronounced FU
The blue shadow is the symbol for samurai, pronounced JI
Put together, these make the compound word Fuji, the name of the mountain.

See Keith’s other anagrams, including a 211,000-word recasting of Moby-Dick.

Turbulence

The roots of the word helicopter are not heli and copter but helico and pter, from the Greek “helix” (spiral) and “pteron” (wing).

G.L.M. de Ponton’s 1861 British patent says, “The required ascensional motion is given to my aerostatical apparatus (which I intend denominating aeronef or helicoptere,) by means of two or more superposed horizontal helixes combined together.”

Podcast Episode 236: The Last Lap

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Dorando_Pietri_1908c.jpg

In 1908 a 22-year-old Italian baker’s assistant arrived in London to take part in the Olympic marathon. He had no coach, he spoke no English, and he was not expected to challenge the elite runners at the top of the field. In this week’s episode of the Futility Closet podcast we’ll follow Dorando Pietri on the most celebrated race in Olympic history.

We’ll also ponder the Great Mull Air Mystery and puzzle over a welcome murder.

See full show notes …