
Feedback is our weekly column of bizarre stories, implausible advertising claims, confusing instructions and more
Kitchen disaster trumps
PRESSURE cookers: should they be allowed? Feedback mentioned the occasion when “an ill-advised release of steam left rice embedded in the kitchen ceiling” (24 May). Just as we were sending that issue to the printers, Bruce Hansche got in touch from his home in New Mexico, topping our experience quite thoroughly.
“We have cooked many things in our pressure cooker over the years,” he writes, “but the silliest, and most nearly disastrous, came during our artsy-creative years. My wife Chris made handmade paper from various fibres, and she thought perhaps horse manure would work well.”
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Readers may be ahead of us, but the account is well worth finishing: “She tried to soften it a bit by cooking in the pressure cooker, but the fibres were just the right size to clog the steam vent. Finally, the overpressure plug blew, coating the entire kitchen ceiling with boiled horse dung.” To make matters worse, “the sink in that kitchen was 90 degrees to the right of the stove top. Chris, being left-handed, spun 270 degrees to the left to get the pot to the sink, which at least provided a fairly even coating.”
Ian Turnbull points to that provide “a quiet and comfortable ride to passengers with zero gas emissions” and wonders whether they allow old farts on the bus
The origins of petards
AT LEAST five readers have taken the trouble to inform Feedback of the etymology of “petard” in the old sense of a small explosive set under defences – as mentioned by Hamlet, Prince of Denmark (17 May) – or used to blow open castle doors. It is “little fart”. We hope no sensibilities were harmed in the making of this paragraph.
That making did, however, involve consulting an editorial document on ways of referring to excrement that are neither too rude nor too twee. It contains a “faecetious” list of suggestions. (For US readers, a “fecetious” list.)
Further adventures of petards
EXPANDING on the etymology of petards, Andy Johnson-Laird reminds us of the great “flatulist” Joseph Pujol (1857 – 1945), who appeared on the French stage as . His shtick was “being able to fart at will (or in the general direction of Will)”, or at least to appear to do so.
Further, Paddy Shannon observes that “When I was a student living in France, éٲ was also the word for a cannabis joint, suggesting a different kind of lifting operation.”
The American Society for…?
SOME readers of this column aren’t the only members of the scientific community with a fixation on matters cloacal. Feedback receives a steady stream of notices from the (ASM) highlighting recent publications. On 20 May the day’s notice was headed ““.
Using the methodology known as discourse analysis, this confirmed a pattern of keenness by the ASM on excretion-related research. We are now moving to statistics, giving notices marks out of seven for scatological content. We hope to report results soon.
Latrine duty cycles
TOILET paper, for some reason, has also attracted copious responses following our sceptical inquiry into figures for annual consumption (3 May). John Davies was one to note his father saying that “in the British army he was issued only three sheets at a time – ‘one to wipe, one to dry, one to polish’.” Indeed we find Lee B. Kennett writing in the book : “The British Army stocked toilet paper on the assumption that the soldier would use three sheets per day; the American ration was twenty-two and a half sheets.”
Toilet paper – from below
CORRESPONDENTS, Juliet Gayton suggests, “are taking too literal a view of the use of toilet paper”. Her list of uses includes: “3 sheets to grab and eject spider; 2 sheets to mop aphids from house plant; 2 sheets to remove hair from plughole; 2 sheets to blow nose; 5 sheets to mop up spilt early morning tea; 2 sheets to blot lipstick; 4 sheets into pocket in case public loos during the day found to be without – and all this before 8:30am.” We redacted six sheets from Juliet’s list to avoid making those who read this over breakfast drop the marmalade.
More mapping mysteries
FINALLY, more mapping mysteries. The for “achievements that first make people laugh, and then make them think” are getting their own database, complete with a map infographic showing which countries have produced Ig Nobel laureates: see . Feedback has discovered that, according to the markers on this map, the Vatican is now in Nigeria. What’s more, the Swiss seem to have annexed Denmark and Italy, while Germany’s taken Sweden.
We note that the Vatican earned its Ig Nobel for outsourcing prayer to India, so was already mobile in Ig Nobel world. We now wonder whether the many locations in which the map places Swiss winners relate to tax evasion, a practice which will cost Credit Suisse, to name but one bank, from the US.