Wednesday 11 August 2010
Tuesday 10 August 2010
nelson mandela
Nelson Mandela is sitting at home watching TV and drinking a beer when he hears a knock at the door.
When he opens it, he is confronted by a little Chinese man, clutching a clip board and yelling,
-* "You Sign! You sign!"
Behind him is an enormous truck full of car exhausts.
Nelson is standing there in complete amazement, when the Chinese man starts to yell louder.
-* "You Sign! You sign!"
Nelson says to him,
-* "Look, you´ve obviously got the wrong man", and shuts the door.
The next day he hears a knock at the door again. When he opens it,the little Chinese man is back with a huge truck of brake pads.
He thrusts his clipboard under Nelson´s nose, yelling,
-* "You sign! You sign!"
Mr Mandela is getting a bit hacked off by now, so he pushes the little Chinese man back, shouting:
-* "Look, go away! You´ve got the wrong man! I don´t want them!" Then he slams the door again.
The following day, Nelson is resting, and late in the afternoon, he hears a knock on the door again.
On opening the door, there is the same little Chinese man thrusting a clipboard under his nose, shouting,
-* "You sign! You sign!"
Behind him are TWO very large trucks full of car parts. This time Nelson Mandela loses his temper completely, he picks up the little man by his shirt front and yells at him:
-* "Look, I don´t want these! Do you understand? You must have the wrong name! Who do you want to give these to?"
The little Chinese man looks very puzzled, consults his clipboard, and says:
-* "You not Nissan Main Dealer???"
When he opens it, he is confronted by a little Chinese man, clutching a clip board and yelling,
-* "You Sign! You sign!"
Behind him is an enormous truck full of car exhausts.
Nelson is standing there in complete amazement, when the Chinese man starts to yell louder.
-* "You Sign! You sign!"
Nelson says to him,
-* "Look, you´ve obviously got the wrong man", and shuts the door.
The next day he hears a knock at the door again. When he opens it,the little Chinese man is back with a huge truck of brake pads.
He thrusts his clipboard under Nelson´s nose, yelling,
-* "You sign! You sign!"
Mr Mandela is getting a bit hacked off by now, so he pushes the little Chinese man back, shouting:
-* "Look, go away! You´ve got the wrong man! I don´t want them!" Then he slams the door again.
The following day, Nelson is resting, and late in the afternoon, he hears a knock on the door again.
On opening the door, there is the same little Chinese man thrusting a clipboard under his nose, shouting,
-* "You sign! You sign!"
Behind him are TWO very large trucks full of car parts. This time Nelson Mandela loses his temper completely, he picks up the little man by his shirt front and yells at him:
-* "Look, I don´t want these! Do you understand? You must have the wrong name! Who do you want to give these to?"
The little Chinese man looks very puzzled, consults his clipboard, and says:
-* "You not Nissan Main Dealer???"
Friday 6 August 2010
Quantas engineers
According to the story, after every Quantas Airlines flight the pilots complete a 'gripe sheet' report, which conveys to the ground crew engineers any mechanical problems on the aircraft during the flight. The engineer reads the form, corrects the problem, and then writes details of action taken on the lower section of the form for the pilot to review before the next flight. It is clear from the examples below that ground crew engineers have a keen sense of humor - these are supposedly real extracts from gripe forms completed by pilots with the solution responses by the engineers. Incidentally, Quantas has the best safety record of all the world's major airlines.
(1 = The problem logged by the pilot.) (2 = The solution and action taken by the mechanics.)
1) Left inside main tire almost needs replacement.
2) Almost replaced left inside main tire.
1) Test flight OK, except auto-land very rough.
2) Auto-land not installed on this aircraft.
1) Something loose in cockpit.
2) Something tightened in cockpit.
1) Dead bugs on windshield.
2) Live bugs on back-order.
1) Autopilot in altitude-hold mode produces a 200 feet per minute descent.
2) Cannot reproduce problem on ground.
1) Evidence of leak on right main landing gear.
2) Evidence removed.
1) DME volume unbelievably loud.
2) DME volume set to more believable level.
1) Friction locks cause throttle levers to stick.
2) That's what they're there for.
1) IFF inoperative.
2) IFF always inoperative in OFF mode.
1) Suspected crack in windshield.
2) Suspect you're right.
1) Number 3 engine missing.
2) Engine found on right wing after brief search.
1) Aircraft handles funny.
2) Aircraft warned to straighten up, fly right, and be serious.
1) Target radar hums.
2) Reprogrammed target radar with lyrics.
1) Mouse in cockpit.
2) Cat installed.
vainglorious
vainglorious
PRONUNCIATION:
(vayn-GLOR-ee-uhs) 
MEANING:
adjective: Filled with, exhibiting, or proceeding from excessive pride, especially in one's achievements or abilities. ETYMOLOGY:
From Latin vana gloria (empty pride), from vana, feminine of vanus (empty) + gloria (pride, glory). USAGE:
"But some see James Cameron as a vainglorious auteur and seek to puncture his perceived pretension."Nick Watt; Is the 'Avatar' Movie Making Viewers Nauseous?; ABC News (New York); Dec 18, 2009.
Explore "vainglorious" in the Visual Thesaurus.
A THOUGHT FOR TODAY:
Truth, in matters of religion, is simply the opinion that has survived. -Oscar Wilde, writer (1854-1900)
Thursday 5 August 2010
jejune
jejune
PRONUNCIATION:
(ji-JOON) MEANING:
adjective:1. Dull; insipid.
2. Lacking maturity; juvenile.
3. Lacking in nutrition.
ETYMOLOGY:
From Latin jejunus (empty, hungry, fasting, meager). A related word is jejunum, the middle part of the small intestine. It was so called because it was usually found empty after death. USAGE:
"Some songs are inspired and done with a knowing sense of irony. Others are jaw-droppingly jejune."John Doyle; Glee's Back; Globe and Mail (Toronto, Canada); Apr 13, 2010.
Explore "jejune" in the Visual Thesaurus.
A THOUGHT FOR TODAY:
How easy to be amiable in the midst of happiness and success. -Madame Anne Sophie Swetchine, mystic (1782-1857)
Wednesday 4 August 2010
Paradise Lost
In today's excerpt - the 1922 destruction of Smyrna, a beautiful city located on
the Aegean coast of what is now Turkey with twice the Greek population of Athens
itself. In a century of global ethnic cleansing, the razing of Smyrna was on a scale
that the world had never before seen - and was a harbinger of much that came after.
Perhaps the most cosmopolitan and ethnically tolerant city in the world in the early
twentieth century, it fell victim to the nascent Turkish nationalist movement after
misguided foreign policy moves - some say the blunders of British Prime Minister
David Lloyd George - inflamed the centuries-old enmity between Turkey and Greece.
Essentially all of its 700,000 inhabitants were killed, captured or fled as refugees
before the Turkish National Army:
"The city [of Smyrna] was one in which fig-laden camels nudged their way past the
latest Newton Bennett motor car; in which the strange new vogue of the cinema was
embraced as early as 1908. There were seventeen companies dealing exclusively in
imported Parisian luxuries. And if [a person] cared to read a daily newspaper,
he had quite a choice: eleven Greek, seven Turkish, five Armenian, four French and
five Hebrew, not to mention the ones shipped in from every capital city in Europe.
...
"Amidst the grandeur there was intense human activity. Hawkers and street traders
peddled their wares along the mile-long quayside. Water sellers jangled their brass
bowls; hodjas - Muslim holy men - mumbled prayers in the hope of earning a copper
or two. And impecunious legal clerks. often Italian, would proffer language lessons
at knock-down prices. 'You saw all sorts . . .' recalled the French journalist,
Gaston Deschamps. 'Swiss hoteliers, German traders, Austrian tailors, English mill
owners, Dutch fig merchants, Italian brokers, Hungarian bureaucrats, Armenian agents
and Greek bankers.'
"The waterfront was lined with lively bars, brasseries and shaded cafe gardens,
each of which tempted the palate with a series of enticing scents. The odour of
roasted cinnamon would herald an Armenian patisserie; apple smoke spilled forth
from hookahs in the Turkish cafes. Coffee and olives, crushed mint and armagnac:
each smell was distinctive and revealed the presence of more than three dozen culinary
traditions. Caucasian pastries, boeuf a la mode, Greek game pies and Yorkshire pudding
could all be found in the quayside restaurants of Smyrna. ...
"What happened over the two weeks [following September 9, 1922] must surely rank
as one of the most compelling human dramas of the twentieth century. Innocent civilians
- men, women and children from scores of different nationalities - were caught in
a humanitarian disaster on a scale that the world had never before seen. The entire
population of the city became the victim of a reckless foreign policy that had gone
hopelessly, disastrously wrong. ...
"The total death toll is hard to compute with any certainty. According to Edward
Hale Bierstadt - executive of the United States Emergency Committee - approximately
100,000 people were killed and another 160,000 deported into the interior. 'It is
a picture too large and too fearful to be painted,' he wrote in his 1924 study of
the disaster, The Great Betrayal, although he did his best, interviewing numerous
eyewitnesses and collecting their testimonies. Other estimates were more conservative,
claiming that 190,000 souls were unaccounted for by the end of September. It is
unclear how many of these had been killed and how many deported, although Greek
sources suggest that at least 100,000 Christians were marched into the interior
of the country. Most of these were never seen again. ...
"The exodus from Asia Minor was on a [massive] scale and it was to continue for
many months. To [rescue worker] Esther Lovejoy's eyes, it was 'the greatest migration
in the history of mankind.' The migration was eventually enshrined in law in 1923,
when [Turkish leader] Mustafa Kemal put his signature to the Treaty of Lausanne.
All of Turkey's remaining 1.2 million Orthodox Christians were to be uprooted from
their ancestral homes and moved to Greece. And the 400,000 Muslims living in Greece
were to be removed from their houses and transported to Turkey. It was ethnic cleansing
without parallel."
Author: Giles Milton
Title: Paradise Lost
Publisher: Sceptre
Date: Copyright 2008 by Giles Milton
Pages: 6-8, 372, 382
the Aegean coast of what is now Turkey with twice the Greek population of Athens
itself. In a century of global ethnic cleansing, the razing of Smyrna was on a scale
that the world had never before seen - and was a harbinger of much that came after.
Perhaps the most cosmopolitan and ethnically tolerant city in the world in the early
twentieth century, it fell victim to the nascent Turkish nationalist movement after
misguided foreign policy moves - some say the blunders of British Prime Minister
David Lloyd George - inflamed the centuries-old enmity between Turkey and Greece.
Essentially all of its 700,000 inhabitants were killed, captured or fled as refugees
before the Turkish National Army:
"The city [of Smyrna] was one in which fig-laden camels nudged their way past the
latest Newton Bennett motor car; in which the strange new vogue of the cinema was
embraced as early as 1908. There were seventeen companies dealing exclusively in
imported Parisian luxuries. And if [a person] cared to read a daily newspaper,
he had quite a choice: eleven Greek, seven Turkish, five Armenian, four French and
five Hebrew, not to mention the ones shipped in from every capital city in Europe.
...
"Amidst the grandeur there was intense human activity. Hawkers and street traders
peddled their wares along the mile-long quayside. Water sellers jangled their brass
bowls; hodjas - Muslim holy men - mumbled prayers in the hope of earning a copper
or two. And impecunious legal clerks. often Italian, would proffer language lessons
at knock-down prices. 'You saw all sorts . . .' recalled the French journalist,
Gaston Deschamps. 'Swiss hoteliers, German traders, Austrian tailors, English mill
owners, Dutch fig merchants, Italian brokers, Hungarian bureaucrats, Armenian agents
and Greek bankers.'
"The waterfront was lined with lively bars, brasseries and shaded cafe gardens,
each of which tempted the palate with a series of enticing scents. The odour of
roasted cinnamon would herald an Armenian patisserie; apple smoke spilled forth
from hookahs in the Turkish cafes. Coffee and olives, crushed mint and armagnac:
each smell was distinctive and revealed the presence of more than three dozen culinary
traditions. Caucasian pastries, boeuf a la mode, Greek game pies and Yorkshire pudding
could all be found in the quayside restaurants of Smyrna. ...
"What happened over the two weeks [following September 9, 1922] must surely rank
as one of the most compelling human dramas of the twentieth century. Innocent civilians
- men, women and children from scores of different nationalities - were caught in
a humanitarian disaster on a scale that the world had never before seen. The entire
population of the city became the victim of a reckless foreign policy that had gone
hopelessly, disastrously wrong. ...
"The total death toll is hard to compute with any certainty. According to Edward
Hale Bierstadt - executive of the United States Emergency Committee - approximately
100,000 people were killed and another 160,000 deported into the interior. 'It is
a picture too large and too fearful to be painted,' he wrote in his 1924 study of
the disaster, The Great Betrayal, although he did his best, interviewing numerous
eyewitnesses and collecting their testimonies. Other estimates were more conservative,
claiming that 190,000 souls were unaccounted for by the end of September. It is
unclear how many of these had been killed and how many deported, although Greek
sources suggest that at least 100,000 Christians were marched into the interior
of the country. Most of these were never seen again. ...
"The exodus from Asia Minor was on a [massive] scale and it was to continue for
many months. To [rescue worker] Esther Lovejoy's eyes, it was 'the greatest migration
in the history of mankind.' The migration was eventually enshrined in law in 1923,
when [Turkish leader] Mustafa Kemal put his signature to the Treaty of Lausanne.
All of Turkey's remaining 1.2 million Orthodox Christians were to be uprooted from
their ancestral homes and moved to Greece. And the 400,000 Muslims living in Greece
were to be removed from their houses and transported to Turkey. It was ethnic cleansing
without parallel."
Author: Giles Milton
Title: Paradise Lost
Publisher: Sceptre
Date: Copyright 2008 by Giles Milton
Pages: 6-8, 372, 382
Tuesday 3 August 2010
troglodyte
Mark Twain once said, "When angry, count to four; when very angry, swear." While swearing is considered uncouth and vulgar, it has its place and purpose. It helps provide an emotional release and clears the system. Isn't a verbal venting of emotions better than a physical manifestation? You don't have to rely on those worn-out four-letter terms to inflict rude remarks on the offending party. With careful selection of words, it's possible to elevate insults to an art form. Why not use this week's select words for one of those times when nothing less will do?
But remember, everything in moderation.
1. Someone who is brutish, reactionary, or primitive.
2. A cave dweller.
3. An animal that lives underground.
Ben Trovato; It's a Sad Day When Not Even the Army Wants You; The Times (Johannesburg, South Africa); Jan 17, 2010.
Explore "troglodyte" in the Visual Thesaurus.
But remember, everything in moderation.
troglodyte
PRONUNCIATION:
(TROG-luh-dyt) MEANING:
noun:1. Someone who is brutish, reactionary, or primitive.
2. A cave dweller.
3. An animal that lives underground.
ETYMOLOGY:
From Latin troglodytae (cave dwellers), from Greek troglodytai, from trogle (hole) + dyein (to enter). USAGE:
"The recruitment officer was a mean-looking troglodyte who squatted behind his desk licking his lips and cracking his knuckles."Ben Trovato; It's a Sad Day When Not Even the Army Wants You; The Times (Johannesburg, South Africa); Jan 17, 2010.
Explore "troglodyte" in the Visual Thesaurus.
A THOUGHT FOR TODAY:
A man should live with his superiors as he does with his fire: not too near, lest he burn; nor too far off, lest he freeze. -Diogenes, philosopher (412?-323 BCE)
puerile
puerile
PRONUNCIATION:
(PYOO-uhr-il, -uh-ryl, PYOOR-il, -yl) MEANING:
adjective:1. Immature; silly; childish.
2. Relating to childhood.
ETYMOLOGY:
From Latin puer (boy). Ultimately from the Indo-European root pau- (few, little), which is also the source of paucity, few, foal, filly, pony, pullet, poultry, pupa, poor, pauper, poco, and Sanskrit putra (son). USAGE:
"An Australian friend recently jolted me with an apparently aesthetic but obviously puerile suggestion, 'Mate, can we amend this burqa ban so that only ugly women are required to wear them while the good-looking ones are mandated to wear bikinis?' He was referring to the boiling controversy in Europe over the body-covering burqa."Chan Akya; Burqa Over the Bastille; Asia Times (Hong Kong); Jul 24, 2010.
Explore "puerile" in the Visual Thesaurus.
A THOUGHT FOR TODAY:
In youth we feel richer for every new illusion; in maturer years, for every one we lose. -Madame Anne Sophie Swetchine, mystic (1782-1857)
london Police
In today's excerpt - the first modern police force. With the Industrial Revolution
came the beginnings of immense social and economic changes and the large scale movement
of the population to the towns. The parish constable and "watch" systems that had
previously been in place failed completely and the impotence of the law-enforcement
machinery was a serious menace. Conditions became intolerable and led to the formation
of the "New Police." Jack Whicher, who later became a famed detective, was among
the first of these new policemen:
"On 18 September,1837, Jack Whicher became a police constable. The Metropolitan
Police, the first such force in the country, was eight years old. London had got
so big, so fluid, so mysterious to itself that in 1829 its inhabitants had, reluctantly,
accepted the need for a disciplined body of men to patrol the streets. The 3,500
policemen were known as 'bobbles' and 'peelers' (after their founder, Sir Robert
Peel), as 'coppers' (they caught, or copped, villains), as 'crushers' (they crushed
liberty), as 'Jenny Darbies' (from gendarmes), and as pigs (a term of abuse since
the sixteenth century).
"Whicher was issued with dark-blue trousers and a dark-blue long-tailed coat, its
bright metal buttons imprinted with a crown and the word POLICE. ... Whicher shared
a dormitory with about sixteen other men in the Hunter Place station house, in Hunter
Street, just south of King's Cross. All single men were expected to lodge in the
station house, and to be in their quarters by midnight....
"In the daytime, a constable covered a seven-and-a-half-mile beat at two-and-a-half
miles an hour for two four-hour stints: from 6 a.m. to 10 a.m., say, and from 2
p.m. to 6 p.m. He familiarised himself with every house on his beat, and strove
to clear the roads of beggars, tramps, costermongers, drunks and prostitutes. He
was subject to spot checks by a sergeant or an inspector, and the rules were strict:
no leaning or sitting while on the beat, no swearing, no consorting with servant
girls. The police were instructed to treat everyone with respect - the drivers
of hansom cabs, for instance, were not to be referred to as 'cabbies' - and to avoid
the use of force. These standards were to be observed off-duty, too. If found drunk
at any time, a constable was issued with a warning, and if the offence was repeated
he was dismissed from the force. In the early 1830s four out of five dismissals,
of a total of three thousand, were for drunkenness. ...
"The circuit was much shorter at night - two miles - and Whicher was expected to
pass each point on his beat every hour. Though this shift could be miserable in
winter, it had its perks: tips for waking up market traders or labourers before
dawn, and sometimes a 'toothful' of beer or brandy from each publican on the route.
...
"[Whicher's district] teemed with tricksters, and the police had to be expert in
identifying them. A new vocabulary evolved to catalogue the various deceits. The
police watched out for 'magsmen' (conmen, such as card sharps) who 'gammoned' (fooled)
'flats' (dupes) with the help of 'buttoners' or 'bonnets'
(accomplices who drew people in by seeming to win money from the magsmen). A 'screever'
(drafter of documents) might sell a 'fakement' to a vagrant 'on the blob' (telling
hard-luck stories) - in 1837, fifty Londoners were arrested for producing such documents
and eighty-six for bearing them. To 'work the kinchin lay),' was to trick children
out of their cash or clothing. To 'work the shallow' was to excite compassion by
begging half-naked. To
'shake lurk' was to beg in the guise of a shipwrecked sailor. In November 1837 a
magistrate noted that some thieves in the Holborn area were acting as decoys, feigning
drunkenness in order to distract police constables while their friends burgled houses."
Author: Kate Summerscale
Title: The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher
Publisher: Walker
Date: Copyright 2008 by Kate Summerscale
Pages: 45-49
came the beginnings of immense social and economic changes and the large scale movement
of the population to the towns. The parish constable and "watch" systems that had
previously been in place failed completely and the impotence of the law-enforcement
machinery was a serious menace. Conditions became intolerable and led to the formation
of the "New Police." Jack Whicher, who later became a famed detective, was among
the first of these new policemen:
"On 18 September,1837, Jack Whicher became a police constable. The Metropolitan
Police, the first such force in the country, was eight years old. London had got
so big, so fluid, so mysterious to itself that in 1829 its inhabitants had, reluctantly,
accepted the need for a disciplined body of men to patrol the streets. The 3,500
policemen were known as 'bobbles' and 'peelers' (after their founder, Sir Robert
Peel), as 'coppers' (they caught, or copped, villains), as 'crushers' (they crushed
liberty), as 'Jenny Darbies' (from gendarmes), and as pigs (a term of abuse since
the sixteenth century).
"Whicher was issued with dark-blue trousers and a dark-blue long-tailed coat, its
bright metal buttons imprinted with a crown and the word POLICE. ... Whicher shared
a dormitory with about sixteen other men in the Hunter Place station house, in Hunter
Street, just south of King's Cross. All single men were expected to lodge in the
station house, and to be in their quarters by midnight....
"In the daytime, a constable covered a seven-and-a-half-mile beat at two-and-a-half
miles an hour for two four-hour stints: from 6 a.m. to 10 a.m., say, and from 2
p.m. to 6 p.m. He familiarised himself with every house on his beat, and strove
to clear the roads of beggars, tramps, costermongers, drunks and prostitutes. He
was subject to spot checks by a sergeant or an inspector, and the rules were strict:
no leaning or sitting while on the beat, no swearing, no consorting with servant
girls. The police were instructed to treat everyone with respect - the drivers
of hansom cabs, for instance, were not to be referred to as 'cabbies' - and to avoid
the use of force. These standards were to be observed off-duty, too. If found drunk
at any time, a constable was issued with a warning, and if the offence was repeated
he was dismissed from the force. In the early 1830s four out of five dismissals,
of a total of three thousand, were for drunkenness. ...
"The circuit was much shorter at night - two miles - and Whicher was expected to
pass each point on his beat every hour. Though this shift could be miserable in
winter, it had its perks: tips for waking up market traders or labourers before
dawn, and sometimes a 'toothful' of beer or brandy from each publican on the route.
...
"[Whicher's district] teemed with tricksters, and the police had to be expert in
identifying them. A new vocabulary evolved to catalogue the various deceits. The
police watched out for 'magsmen' (conmen, such as card sharps) who 'gammoned' (fooled)
'flats' (dupes) with the help of 'buttoners' or 'bonnets'
(accomplices who drew people in by seeming to win money from the magsmen). A 'screever'
(drafter of documents) might sell a 'fakement' to a vagrant 'on the blob' (telling
hard-luck stories) - in 1837, fifty Londoners were arrested for producing such documents
and eighty-six for bearing them. To 'work the kinchin lay),' was to trick children
out of their cash or clothing. To 'work the shallow' was to excite compassion by
begging half-naked. To
'shake lurk' was to beg in the guise of a shipwrecked sailor. In November 1837 a
magistrate noted that some thieves in the Holborn area were acting as decoys, feigning
drunkenness in order to distract police constables while their friends burgled houses."
Author: Kate Summerscale
Title: The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher
Publisher: Walker
Date: Copyright 2008 by Kate Summerscale
Pages: 45-49
Friday 30 July 2010
meretricious
meretricious
PRONUNCIATION:
(mer-i-TRISH-uhs) MEANING:
adjective:1. Appealing in a cheap or showy manner: tawdry.
2. Based on pretense or insincerity.
ETYMOLOGY:
From Latin meretricius, meretrix (prostitute), from merere (to earn money). USAGE:
"For most of the 20th century John Singer Sargent's skills as a portraitist were deemed to be meretricious."Waldemar Januszczak; A Dirty Old Man And the Sea?; The Sunday Times (London, UK); Jul 11, 2010.
Explore "meretricious" in the Visual Thesaurus.
A THOUGHT FOR TODAY:
Morality is the custom of one's country and the current feeling of one's peers. Cannibalism is moral in a cannibal country. -Samuel Butler, writer (1835-1902)
A Short History of Nearly Everything --- bacteria
In today's excerpt - bacteria:
"It's probably not a good idea to take too personal an interest in your microbes.
Louis Pasteur, the great French chemist and bacteriologist, became so preoccupied
with them that he took to peering critically at every dish placed before him with
a magnifying glass, a habit that presumaby did not win him many repeat invitations
to dinner.
"In fact, there is no point in trying to hide from your bacteria, for they are on
and around you always, in numbers you can't conceive. If you are in good health
and averagely diligent about hygiene, you will have a herd about one trillion bacteria
grazing on your fleshy plains - about a hundred thousand of them on every square
centimeter of skin. They are there to dine off the ten billion or so flakes of
skin you shed every day, plus all the tasty oils and fortifying minerals that seep
out from every pore and fissure. You are for them the ultimate food court, with
the convenience of warmth and constant mobility thrown in. By way of thanks, they
give you B.O.
"And those are just the bacteria that inhabit your skin. There are trillions more
tucked away in your gut and nasal passages, clinging to you hair and eyelashes,
swimming over the surface of your eyes, drilling through the enamel of your teeth.
Your digestive system alone is host to more than a hundred trillion microbes, of
at least four hundred types. Some deal with sugars, some with starches, some attack
other bacteria. A surprising number, like the ubiquitous intestinal spirochetes,
have no detectable function at all. They just seem to like to be with you. Every
human body consists of about 10 quadrillion cells, but about 100 quadrillion bacterial
cells. They are, in short, a big part of us. From the bacteria's point of view,
of course, we are a rather small part of them.
"Because we humans are big and clever enough to produce and utilize antibiotics
and disinfectants, it is easy to convince ourselves that we have banished bacteria
to the fringes of existence. Don't you believe it. Bacteria may not build cities
or have interesting social lives, but they will be here when the Sun explodes.
This is their planet, and we are on it only because they allow us to be.
"Bacteria, never forget, got along for billions of years without us. We couldn't
survive a day without them. ... And they are amazingly prolific. The more frantic
among them can yield a new generation in less than ten minutes; Clostridium perfringens,
the disagreeable little organism that causes gangrene, can reproduce in nine minutes.
At such a rate, a single bacterium could theoretically produce more offspring in
two days than there are protons in the universe. 'Given an adequate supply of nutrients,
a single bacterial cell can generate 280,000 billion individuals in a single day,'
according to the Belgian biochemist and Nobel laureate Christian de Duve. In the
same period, a
human cell can just about manage a single division."
Author: Bill Bryson
Title: A Short History of Nearly Everything
Publisher: Broadway
Date: Copyright 2003 by Bill Bryson
Pages: 302-304
"It's probably not a good idea to take too personal an interest in your microbes.
Louis Pasteur, the great French chemist and bacteriologist, became so preoccupied
with them that he took to peering critically at every dish placed before him with
a magnifying glass, a habit that presumaby did not win him many repeat invitations
to dinner.
"In fact, there is no point in trying to hide from your bacteria, for they are on
and around you always, in numbers you can't conceive. If you are in good health
and averagely diligent about hygiene, you will have a herd about one trillion bacteria
grazing on your fleshy plains - about a hundred thousand of them on every square
centimeter of skin. They are there to dine off the ten billion or so flakes of
skin you shed every day, plus all the tasty oils and fortifying minerals that seep
out from every pore and fissure. You are for them the ultimate food court, with
the convenience of warmth and constant mobility thrown in. By way of thanks, they
give you B.O.
"And those are just the bacteria that inhabit your skin. There are trillions more
tucked away in your gut and nasal passages, clinging to you hair and eyelashes,
swimming over the surface of your eyes, drilling through the enamel of your teeth.
Your digestive system alone is host to more than a hundred trillion microbes, of
at least four hundred types. Some deal with sugars, some with starches, some attack
other bacteria. A surprising number, like the ubiquitous intestinal spirochetes,
have no detectable function at all. They just seem to like to be with you. Every
human body consists of about 10 quadrillion cells, but about 100 quadrillion bacterial
cells. They are, in short, a big part of us. From the bacteria's point of view,
of course, we are a rather small part of them.
"Because we humans are big and clever enough to produce and utilize antibiotics
and disinfectants, it is easy to convince ourselves that we have banished bacteria
to the fringes of existence. Don't you believe it. Bacteria may not build cities
or have interesting social lives, but they will be here when the Sun explodes.
This is their planet, and we are on it only because they allow us to be.
"Bacteria, never forget, got along for billions of years without us. We couldn't
survive a day without them. ... And they are amazingly prolific. The more frantic
among them can yield a new generation in less than ten minutes; Clostridium perfringens,
the disagreeable little organism that causes gangrene, can reproduce in nine minutes.
At such a rate, a single bacterium could theoretically produce more offspring in
two days than there are protons in the universe. 'Given an adequate supply of nutrients,
a single bacterial cell can generate 280,000 billion individuals in a single day,'
according to the Belgian biochemist and Nobel laureate Christian de Duve. In the
same period, a
human cell can just about manage a single division."
Author: Bill Bryson
Title: A Short History of Nearly Everything
Publisher: Broadway
Date: Copyright 2003 by Bill Bryson
Pages: 302-304
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