EXCITING SPACE ADVENTURE 32: Where Pounds Won't Go!

"Pound as in the pounding of these zammoths' feet?"

"What zammoths? The ones to our right?"

"The ones I'm pointing at. Well, yeah, those ones, okay. God. So I wasn't exactly pointing at them. But yeah. God."

"No. Pounds as in insert-national-currency-here. The future has no regulated currency."

"Oh, and air?"

"No. And no zammoths. They're hallucinations. This planet's atmosphere is too thin. We're dying of radiation sickness."

"Speak for yourself. My body's packing in because it doesn't know how to function on a planet that has only a third of Earth's gravity. Hey, where are those guys going?" 

"I can't see what you're pointing at."

"Forget it... Where are we again?"

"Fucking everywhere, apparently."

 

 Illustration by nobody.

Talking to the Ghost of Food

Larry Gonick's "Cartoon History of the Universe" is always relevant.

 

  It's good to state at the outset that the reason something was developed might not be the reason it stays successful. In a episode of Radiolab called "The Cataclysm Sentence" contributors were invited to offer the single most useful sentence of human knowledge to pass onto a post-human intelligence, and of course I sarted thinking what I'd choose. I'm not a scientist but I'd want to pass on some fun short-cut to generating curiosity: maybe something about doubling the length of a string, then comparing its pitch when plucked to see, or rather hear, that leap of an octave – or something about the law of gravity: the idea that the very fact of our existence makes us attractive. Cute facts.

 

 One contributor was the excellent youtube mortician Caitlin Doherty, who's appeared on this blog before. She suggested, "You will die. Aand that's the most important thing... so you have to have Religion, you have to have Communities. You have to have Art. Those are created by our fear, and our strange, difficult, weird relationship with Death." Which is one theory for the invention of all the above, but listening along as a fellow atheist, I realised it wasn't mine. 

 What if we created Religion around about the same time we became evolved enough to start wanting to enjoy life, and to realise that wanting to enjoying life had a moral dimension – and that eating meat meant taking a life, for example, but that we still liked the taste? What if we created therefore a way to look upon the world not simply as an environment, but as a provider? What if we developed Religion not to help us deal with death, but to help us deal with killing? As I said however, the reason something was invented isn't necessarily the reason it hangs around.

Here's the episode.

This is somewhere on the riverbank outside Kew.

Guess who won the election for Asgardia's New Head of Space Nation!

  No, not Lembit Öpik. He's just here to introduce the real winner – and, for all I know, only candidate – Dr. Igor Ashurbeyli. Dr. Igor keeps his victory address short and informative, and since I haven't been keeping up with the Asgardian Parliament, I was grateful to be brought up to date...

 While Ashurbeyli admits the "so-called panemic" has stalled Asgardia's financial development somewhat, I was excited to learn that the Space Nation now has its own currency – the "Solar" – and that the exchange of fiat currencies into Solars has been "enabled", even if "the third part of the cycle" – namely the exchange of Solars back into actual money – "has yet to be addressed." A project for the next five years then.

 The launch of a new sattelite called "Asgardia 2" is also on the agenda it seems, although what it will do, how it will do it, and how it will be launched is yet to be determined. 

 Ashurbeyli is keen too, he says, to create a new language for Asgardia, and website. 

 

An imagining, I'm guessing.

 

 But "the constitutional anchoring of Asgardia's primary mission" remains "the birth of the first human child in Space." The Head of Nation still seems really keen on this, and "on our path to achieving the goal," Ahsurbeyli announces, "we have come close to the first stage – an isolation experiment on the ground, simulating a year-long space flight involving several married couples of volunteers to conceive and give birth in conditions as close to those in orbit as possible. However," Ashurbeyli admits, "the cost of such an experiment is very high and funding has to be secured." Close then, but no cigar. Also I'm pretty sure the closest conditions to being in orbit achievable "on the ground" are forty second burts of zero gravity in a plummeting fuselage, so encouraging couples to volunteer for a whole year of that might really eat into the budget. Still, at least someone voted for him.

 I've dropped you into this video just as the Head of Parliament Lembit Öpik – himself introduced by Asgardia's "Head of Administration" and one-hundred-and-third human in space – appears to be pretending to know sign language. Oh Lembit.

 

 

"I hug all of you and every one of you."

My Webcamming Profile Placeholder

 I finally managed to catch my friend Maude's show The Webcamming Chronicles tonight at the Cockpit – tickets for the second showing on the 13th here! – and thoroughly recommend it, but haven't time if I want to get any sleep now to explain why. So here as a placeholder is Carl Sagan's first attempt, as far as I know, to send a drawing of a naked man to aliens. I drop us straight into the explanation below, but the whole video, being a video of Carl Sagan talking, is typically superb.

Villains From a Simpler Time: Martin Shkreli

 

 

 "Yeah, I'll be evil, I'll be the Bond villain." I had totally forgotten about Martin Shkreli! Do you remember Martin Shkreli? Something like... he bought the rights to an AIDS drug and immediately made it five hundred times more expensive? I know next to nothing about American Healthcare, but Allie Conti's interview with him for Vice back in January 2016 is a beautiful character study regardless of topic.

 

 The useless hover board, the mismatched wine glasses, the "Sicilian Defense", the globe on the floor. That Wu Tang Clan album. This is what performative villainy looked like before Putin invaded the Ukraine. Before Covid. Before Brexit. Before Trump. Almost before Elon Musk.

 

 I was only reminded of it when watching RedLetterMedia discuss Ben & Arthur as part of their "Best of the Worst" series: an awkward cri de coeur shot in a cheaply furnished flat. Something about that film's combination of bareness and clutter suddenly reminded me of Shkreli, so I looked him up, and it turns out he'd just got out of prison.

 

 I've no idea if the rob-the-rich-to-give-to-Research-and-Development defense he gives in this interview holds any water at all. I just know he's pawned his "prison watch" and is now threatening on instagram to go and bed all our "thot mums". I miss wondering what someone like him will do next, rather than fearing it. I hope he never catches up.

 Here's some Ben & Arthur.

 

Christmas just wouldn't be Christmas without Lembit Opik...

 

 O HOU, everyone! Happy First of Leo! Let's all celebrate One Humanity, One Unity – but not necessarily in that order – with Asgardia's plucky "Chair of Parliament" Lembit Opik, an uncredited Lena DeWinne, and their tiny "Head of Legal Affairs", none of whom outstay their welcome. If that wasn't enought to make this a Unity Day to remember, joining them is a computer-generated woman from 2005: "All Asgardians will be awarded celebrating in all corners!" Imagine that!

 

 

  Speaking of all corners, I see Dennis Shoemaker has found the perfect place for his map of the US. Okay, so it turns out that Unity Day was actually six months ago, but that's my fault, not theirs. I wasn't going to let the year go by without sharing the latest from Asgardia with you anyway, and every day's Unity Day here at Unattended Articles, so let's hear now from their Head of Information and Communications. Take it away, Dennis!

 

 

 

 Of course, Asgardia won't just be about law and information and recruiting women to give birth in outer space. There will also be a strong cultural element. But what will the Art of Earth's First Space Nation look like? It will look like Hell. O hou, Cheryl!

 Oh, who's this at the door now, but Asgardia's Minister for Trade and Commerce, Ben Dell, who maybe hasn't had that much to do this past year? I don't know. That's just a guess. Maybe sloppily photoshopping the Starship Enterprise onto pictures of himself sitting on a space swing was exactly how Ben was meant to be spending his time. It certainly wasn't wasted anyway. That's one tasty vision. Here's still to the future, guys. O HOU!

 

 

"The ceiling would have to be so high, and the light would have to be so bright."

 For April the First, my favourite accidental physicists "The Corridor Crew" loose their visual-effects-dissecting acumen on the moon landing, providing typically conclusive, keen and concise insights into its unfakeability. Watch and learn why this shot from 2001 couldn't possibly have taken place inside a vacuum, and why moonwalk footage from Apollo 11 couldn't possibly have taken place outside of one.

 

 

 (And further confirmation, of course, can be found here.)

"Shouldn't they have called it Conspira-sea?"

 My friend Phil asked that, in the flesh. I bumped into him this evening, sharing beers with three more friends by the boating lake; one advantage of the parks filling up is a heightened chance of chance encounters. I'd watched Seaspiracy the night before, and when I got back in tonight and everyone had gone home, I followed it up with 2014's Cowspiracy. The one follows the other almost beat for beat, and who can blame it? Some of those beats are glaringly dumb – for example, the title – but some are brilliant, and the former documentary's disputed revelations are now common talking points. Maybe the same will happen to Seaspiracy, whose claim that over forty per cent of the plastic in our oceans comes from fishing seems far less disputed. As with Cowspiracy, the documentary's most powerful moments might come from seeing the shadow of some higher authority fall over the faces of mainstream environmentalists when asked if anything should be done about this: the good guys fall silent for what seems like minutes, standing at a crossroads invisible to the viewer. 

 

"He had a point..." is literally the voice over for this shot.

 

  However, also as with Cowspiracy, the documentary's dumbest moments come from awkwardly staging a moral awakening on the part of our innocent protoganist: "I left there feeling confused" becomes a catchphrase. I commend Ali Tabrizi's bravery, but literally every scene he appears in feels like a bad spoof, and one feels almost duty-bound not to take them seriously. But I'll probably stop eating fish anyway. And if this film's revelations end up having as strong an impact as Cowspiracy's, I won't even have to recommend it.

Blessed

 I've just rewatched this video to confirm that Richard Herring's interview here with Brian Blessed may be the greatest one-man show I've seen. It's a hell of an act, really – literally death-defying – and, while often threatening to disintegrate into whatever the louder version of waffle is, every unprompted digression ultimately leads to a vista. You might find yourself, like me, crying honest tears of joy several times at the beauty of the view. 

 

 

 "Exploration is not a discovery.... it is a Remembrance!"

 

 These last twelve months have proved something of a procrastinator's paradise, and I know I haven't been alone in approaching the end of the virus with some dread at the idea of being asked once again "So what's next for you?" But Brian Blessed's been training to climb Olympus Mons, which is four times the height of Everest, and on Mars. So maybe what I'll do next is fuck Death up the arse, live forever, and learn to sing like Pavarotti. Thank you, Brian, can't wait.

Strange Angel Samba – in which I hear of Jack Parsons

Parsons, as painted by Marjorie Cameron
 

 Having pooh-poohed Hélène Smith's Space Seances in the last post, this afternoon I learnt – completely coincidentally – that the overlap between Occultism and the American Space Programme is bigger than I'd realised: The name Jack Parsons popped up in the latest episode of Comedy Bang Bang, which I was listening to while out trying to catch the last of the sun – Oh, here...

 

 ... and from what little I could pick up, Parsons' esoteric approach to rocket science makes Nicola Tesla look like Clive Sinclair. I researched him a little further on my return, hence the links in this post, but I reckon the less you know about him, the more you'll enjoy the beautiful introductory video below – a perfect jarring of data and delivery that I've now watched five times. Samba music aside, Christian Sager seems a consummate host, a no-nonsense kind of guy. He doesn't even mention, for example, Parsons' attempt to gestate a "Moonchild" with L. Ron Hubbard – Sorry, I'll shut up. 

 Elocute away, Christian!

Hélène Smith's Ultra-Martian Insects

  "Palais martiens" (Martian palaces) by Hélène Smith

 

 This is a view of the surface of Mars, as recorded by Catherine-Elise Müllerin Martigny, a late nineteenth-century Swiss medium who claimed to have conscious recollection not only of previous lives on Earth, but of contemporary life on other planets.

 

"paysage ultramartien avec bipèdes" (Beyond-Martian countryside with bipeds)

 

 The details of her space séances – including "houses with fountains on the roof", and "carriages without horses or wheels, emitting sparks as they glide by" – were recorded by a sympathetic psychology professor from the University of Geneva called Théodore Flornoy. It was Flornoy who suggested Müller adopt the pseudo nym "Hélène Smith". They really were proper séances too: conducted around a table, and with assembled mourners, like Mme. Mirbel, whose dead son Alexis was apparently – according to Smith – now attending lectures at a Martian university. Flornoy records Alexis' newly Martian ghost berating his mother through Smith 'for not having followed the medical prescription which he gave her a month previously: "Dear mamma, have you, then, so little confidence in us ? You have no idea how much pain you have caused me !"' He does not go into detail about the argument which then breaks out between mother and son "by means of the table".

"insecte ultramartien" (Beyond-Martian insect)

 

 From India to the Planet Mars, a full tanslation of Flornoy's account of Smith's visions – including black-and-white plates of these illustrations – was posted on the ever excellent Public Domain Review blog in celebration of the latest Mars landing, which is how I know about it. Also included in the book are examples of Martian typography that Smith took down – essentially French in code, as deciphered by Flornoy:

 

 

 It reminds me of the man who claimed in an interview with Patrick Moore to be able to speak Venusian, although the latter was adamant that the process by which his particular aliens communicated was mechanical, not mental – "through rays" – and he'd never personally heard from a Martian. Nor had he ever been Marie Antionette in a previous life, now I think of it, unlike Smith. (Or if he had, it hadn't come up.)

 

"insecte ultramartien" (another insect from further away than Mars)

 

  It also reminds me of the Voynich Manuscipt, lending credence perhaps to David Reed's theory that the manuscript is just the work of a bored princess in a tower... Colour reproductions of Hélène Smith's sometimes beautiful illustrations (very popular later on with the surrealists) were a little harder to find, until I started looking in French – typing "martien" instead of "martian – and hit upon this post, from which most of these images have come. 

 Here is one exception:

 This I found in a lovely summary of Smith's life on the blog "Burials and Beyond". I believe it shows a Martian accompanied by one of the planet's many "dog-like creatures with heads that looked like cabbages that not only fetched objects for their masters, but also took dictation." Good boy! No wonder he's patting it.

 Here's the real thing:

Snowflakes Are Cyberpunk

 Modified dust. It's why the statement "no two showflakes are alike" exercises our imagination more than, say, "no two daffodils are alike". Because how many different modifications could there be? 

 Well, here are a couple new to me:

 

 Photographed on cold plates in 1910 by Wilson Bentley, and showcased on the excellent Public Domain Review, Bentley's work is how we've known for so long what snowflakes look like, although I didn't know they could look like this:

 

 In fact, I assumed these must have been models or mock-ups, but as those who follow me on twitter will know - and I'm assuming there's an overlap - snowflakes can ineed produce axles. Many thanks to redscharlach for the tip.

 

 

 On a side note: Apparently, in the new game Cyberpunk 2077, you're able to "customize" your character's genitalia, but in reality you're only given the four options: big penis, little penis, vulva, or "off". Also, the be-penised models – presumably in deference to any possible gay panic among male players – turn out to be never-nudes who take showers in their pants; I guess you can take showers in this game. Also, the little penis is big.

 

 Sorry, I was listening to this podcast while out in the snow. Maybe snowflakes aren't cyberpunk. I don't know what cyberpunk is.

Where to Find Hippos at the North Pole

 SPOILERS: The answer's underground, and in bits, because fifty million years or so ago the Arctic was a swamp! Did elephants have antlers back then, as imagined in this engraving? Who knows? I mean, absolutely not, according to the fossil record, but unweildy tusks and supernumerary knobbly bits were abundant in the methane-rich Eocene. Also, more recent, scientifically verifiable visualisations of the epoch show a planet ruled by giant parrots, so let's not rule anything out.

 I couldn't find any attribution for the engraving, but it looks as if it might come from a children's book published in 1887 by Henry Davenport Northrop, called Earth, Sea, and the Sky (I wonder if Ursula K. Le Guin had a copy). Illustrations from it are all over the internet, and well worth seeking out. Here, for example, is a Megalosaurus where they sort of get the head right...

 Speaking of windows on the world, the reason I know the Arctic used to be a swamp is because it's one of the many things I learnt playing around with PBS' Nova Polar Lab, as recommended by Sarah Airress after her own trip to McMurdo in Antarctica. The brilliantly engaging, slightly glitchy interactive website takes you round the globe, to visit actual field scientists in their often extraordinary research stations – like David Holland's here, on the Jakobshavn Glacier, which sank the Titanic –

– and then dig up fossils, bore down miles into ice sheets, or send seals out to measure the water temperature, to learn, first hand, the history of this planet, and the stark reality of the sharp change in its climate. You can find it HERE. I really recommend it. It is probably for children.

 

You get to visit McMurdo too.

"Thus ended the worst journey in the world."

A shelf the size of France.

 

 Today was spent finally catching up with Sarah Airress' engrossing account, over more than a year's worth of blogging, of her trip to Antarctica, to research a graphic adaptation of Apsley Cherry-Garrard's memoir of Scott's 1911 Terra Nova expedition, The Worst Journey In The World. I hope Sarah doesn't mind if I share some of it here.

 

From The One Show, April, 2020

 

 Emotional, educational, and beautifully documented with her own photographs, the trip to McMurdo took place two Novembers ago, months before Covid saw the rest of us having to rethink our living arrangements, and Airress was there for a month. But her account, begun in September of 2019, has continued to run on until at least last Saturday, which is what I powered through today, transported by every paragraph. 

 

One of the interesting things I learnt: In dry air, minus 10ºC can still feel "very mild".

 

 Most recently, she wrote about her visit to the remains of an already misshapen stone igloo that "Cherry" built in 1911, during the disastrous journey to find Emperor Penguin eggs that gave his memoir its title, and she quoted his return to the base hut:

Bread and jam, and cocoa; showers of questions; "You know this is the hardest journey ever made," from Scott; a broken record of George Robey on the gramophone which started us laughing until in our weak state we found it difficult to stop. ... Then into my warm blanket bag, and I managed to keep awake just long enough to think that Paradise must be something like this.

We slept ten thousand years ... [301]

 I looked out the George Robey, and could only find something from 1913. Still, I thought it might give me a taste, and tried to imagine men who only twenty-four hour hours earlier had been so uncomfortable that they willingly risked death, laughing themselves silly to this:

 

 It was alright, I suppose. Not as ticklish as I'd hoped, I thought, but tastes had clearly changed. Then I re-read what Cherry wrote: "a broken record of George Robey on the gramophone"... A broken record! And immediately I could hear them, high as kites, their past no more distant than my own. 

 

 

From Sarah's record of the 28-sleeping Cape Evans hut (source).

 

 About her return towards the end of 2019, Airress writes of the "thin places" – an apparently Celtic term, and possible improvement upon the word "liminality" which I've been trying to find a replacement for for years now. You can see, and indeed buy, more of Sarah's work here. And her brilliant visualisations of John Finnemore's Cabin Pressure, which is how I first knew about her, are viewable here.

I Saw "Soul" and Realised Where You Can Find Straight Lines in Nature.

  Sort of spoilers ahead for Soul.

 "I-stroke-we have been given many names..." Twitter's just reminded me, it was four years ago today that the first of Time Spanner's two episodes were broadcast (still hearable here, shush). I've already written a little about the fug I got into trying to decide exactly what to call Belinda Stewart-Wilson's pan-dimensional inhabitant of the Fons et Origo, or "Heaven". Producer Gareth decided upon "Angel", which made a lot of sense, but did risk ruling out the possibility she might be God. I was tickled therefore, and probably a little jealous, when I came to watch Soul, and saw that its own dimensionally difficult inhabitants of an Afterlife-cum-Source-of-all-Inspiration had managed to cut through all this theological faff by just calling each other "Jerry". I also liked that the Jerrys were composed of a single line. If you're going to try to visualise a non-religious Heaven, mathematics seems a pleasing place to start, and I spent quite a bit of the film trying to work out why (beyond the cuteness of bureaucracy).

 

In 1887, B. W. Betts tried to model the evolution of human psychology through pure geometry, although he maybe didn't try that hard. (More here).

 

 Paradise is another word for Garden... I'd also just been rewatching The Crown*, and remembered how Prince Charles, nosing around his new estate in Highgrove, had said "there are no straight lines in Nature." But if that's the case, I suddenly thought, how do you know where something will land when you drop it?  Thanks to gravity, if we could perceive the world in four dimensions, we'd see that Nature is actually full of straight lines. And ellipses, and perfect geometric figures, and maybe that's what's so pleasing about these images: not their simplicity, but their powers of prophecy. And maybe, then, that's the kind of thing we'd hope to see in Heaven, especially if we weren't waiting to see God. 

 

 

* (Olivia Colman speaks quickly. Elizabeth II speaks slowly. It's taken me two series to realise my one problem with it.)

THE YEAR IN REHASH: SEPTEMBER - Darwin's Bassoon Wasted on Worms

One of the notebooks I didn't post in September. 

 Last one for today. I'd always wanted to be prove useful to a museum, so participating in Ships, Sea and the Stars this year was a huge treat for me. Thanks to Dr. Helen Czerski, not just for inviting me aboard, but for her entire online output this year, much of it in collaboration with Robin Ince whose work on the Cosmic Shambles provided the kind of schooling I would previously only have expected from life on a star cruiser. In a year spent so otherwise sedentary, it felt a bit like being rescued, and I haven't yet seen Helen's Royal Institute Lecture on the Oceans which aired yesterday, but I hear she enters on a wire, and that sounds apt. I could have picked any of these, but here's the final one, from September the 21st...

 

 The mainly non-mythological constellations of the southern hemisphere, 

including Chameleon, Compass, Toucan and Telescope (source.)

 

 The final Ships, Sea & The Stars of this series is up now, in which you can hear me read an A. A. Milne poem that was completely new to me (at 29:00) and a terrific account by Charles Darwin of his attempts to test the hearing of worms (at 4:17). The theme of this episode – in coordination with Heritage Open Days – is "Hidden Nature" which, according to guest and "preventive conservator" Maria Bastidas-Spence, unambiguously means bugs. It's rare to see an insect expert who actually hates insects, and weirdly rewarding. In addition to carpet beetles and constellations, the team discuss ship's mascots. It seems pretty much every species has at some point been considered for mascothood, including a polar bear. 

 This isn't him though, this is "Trotsky". As soon as I learnt of his existence, I whatsapped my Finnemore colleagues and... well, long story short: John has finally decided on a name for his first child. Unfortunately though, Trotsky – the photographed Trotsky above, not the putative Trotsky Finnemore – would be shot dead by a sailor tragically unaware that "ship's bear" was a thing. A very sad death then, but I can't say he was necessarily on the wrong side of History.

 

Some Lesser Known Carl Sagan Quotes (Still Actioned)

 "I felt very bad that at the end the Wookie didn't get a medal. All the people got a medal and the Wookie, who'd been in there fighting all the time, he didn't get any medal." 

"Han Solo talked about getting to a certain place in only so many parsecs of time or speed, when it's a unit of distance. It's like me saying from here to San Diego is thirty miles an hour."

Carl Sagan

 

 

  Having only recently learnt of his brilliant contribution to the depiction of alien intelligences in 2001, I now find Carl Sagan was also responsible for this. Oh well... I mean, he's not wrong. These just wouldn't necessarily be top of my list of wishes to grant Sagan eternal rest forty years on.

 Also, when were talkshow backdrops so rural?

The Mist in Close-Up

  It's lovely seeing light through a blanket of mist, someone once tweeted, although not all light makes it through, of course; that's what makes mist look misty. I know this. And I know what mist is, of course: it's where we get the word "mister" from. Not the honorific, the spray. So I don't understand why I was so surprised by what the flash on my phone picked up:

 Specks. As if I'd taken a photo of dust, the flash had picked up specks. Tiny illuminated bits, not hanging in the air – which if I think about it for a second, is obvious – but flurrying around my face like snow. Not a blanket of snow though. Not remotely blankety, but busy. Nor particularly "over there", which is I suppose another quality I unconsciously associate with mist, but here was the mist in close up, like standing too close to a Seurat. Why do I find the business of mist so surprising?

 

Again, not snow.

The Doctor's Round

 Another quiz and another post from The Concise Home Doctor (date of publication still unknown). Here are ten more illustrations, each with four possible captions, some of which I also lifted from the book, some of which I've – probably obviously - made up. Which caption is correct? Answers are in the comments.

 

1.

A) Baths: The Schnee Bath

B) Modified Form of the Bergonie Treatment

C) Romberg's Test in Ataxia

D) Incontinence: A Checklist

 

 

2.

A) Choosing the Right Chair

B) Modified Form of the Bergonie Treatment

C) Development: Symmetrical Strength and the Muscle Cult

D) Breathlessness: Hopping and Stepping Up Tests for Physical Fitness

 

3.

 

A) Holger Nielsen Method of Artificial Respiration

B) Modified Form of the Bergonie Treatment

C) Eye: Removing Metal by Electro-Magnet

D) Finsen Light: Pioneer Apparatus in Artifical Sunlight Treatment

 

 4.

 

A) Constipation: Exercise to Compress the Abdomen

B) Modified Form of the Bergonie Treatment

C) Teaching the Deaf-Blind

D) Balance of the Body: Tests for its Proper Functioning

5.

 

A) Fire: Instant First Aid Methods

B) Modified Form of the Bergonie Treatment

C) Combustion, Spontaneous: How to Indentify

D) Dandruff: Dangers of the Common Brush

6.

A) Bad Nauheim: The Sprudel or Principal Spring

B) Modified Form of the Bergonie Treatment

C) Exercise: Promoting Flexibility in Arm and Hand

D) Has This Book Been Poisoned?

 

 7.

 

A) Gastroscope: for Viewing Stomach

B) Modified Form of the Bergonie Treatment

C) Feeding Bottles and Methods of Cleansing

D) How to Dye the Hair

 

 

8.

A) Out-Patients and In-Patients at Two Institutions Devoted to the Care of Suffering Animals 

B) Modified Form of the Bergonie Treatment

C) How to Stop Worrying

D) Dogs: Elizabethan Collars

 

9.

 

A) Decompression Chamber as used in the Royal Navy

B) Modified Form of the Bergonie Treatment

C) Draughts: How These Are Caused

D) One Way of Spreading Consumption

 

 

10.

A) Curvature: A Crawling Cure

B) Modified Form of the Bergonie Treatment

C) Protection Against Drain Gases

D) Filariasis: Disease Due to Minute Worm