THE BUTTERED cat array we featured on 19 October is still in the experimental stage. However, several readers have suggested modifications to the original proposal. The idea builds on the principle that a falling cat always lands feet downwards, while a falling slice of toast lands buttered-side down. Strap a slice of toast to the back of a cat, and 鈥
Shane Voss realised that this describes a perpetual motion machine, and like all good New 杏吧原创 readers immediately started looking for the flaw. Of course, the probability of toast landing buttered-side down is proportional to the cost of the carpet. So to keep the array floating would require a very expensive carpet. What鈥檚 more, to maintain its value, it would have to be frequently cleaned of cat hairs. This would be the input of energy needed to defeat the perpetual motion claim.
Jon Minhinnick has evidence that most of the civilised species of the Universe already use this principle to drive their space ships. The loud humming heard by most people who say they have seen UFOs is, in fact, the purring of several hundred tabbies.
Advertisement
The obvious danger is that if the cats manage to eat the bread off their backs then they will instantly plummet. Of course, the cats will land on their feet, but this won鈥檛 do them much good, because right after they make their graceful landing several tonnes of red-hot starship and angry aliens will crash on top of them.
Finally, Robert Millea points out that, as with so many technological breakthroughs, there is an environmental cost. If the purring began to coincide you would get constructive interference that would create a standing wave, initially causing the butter to become lumpy. Eventually, as the amplitude rose, the toast would crack and the whole structure would collapse. Apart from the immediate environmental problem of millions of tonnes of crumbs, you would have a mass infestation of feral cats such as the world has never seen. It would be a cat-astrophe.
A READER recently bought a disc for cleaning disc drive heads through a well-known computer magazine. The instructions were very clear:
鈥1. To operate this disc, place some of the special liquid on the paper disc inside the disc. However, do not place any liquid on the disc inside the disc as this will result in the disc being unable to clean your disc drive heads properly with the disc.
2. Keep this disc away from children in flames. (Made in Taiwan)鈥
MEANWHILE Ralph Hancock has sent us the ingredients list of Sainsbury鈥檚 Baby Care 鈥渁lcohol-free鈥 baby wipes: water, propylene glycol, polysorbate-0, phenoxyethanol, perfume, sodium cocoamphoacetate, methylparaben, citric acid, propylparaben, 2-bromo-2-nitropropane-1,3-diol, sodium chloride, aloe vera gel.
Hancock says he鈥檚 no organic chemist, but quite apart from propylene glycol, he has a strong hunch that 2-bromo-2-nitropropane-1,3-diol and phenoxyethanol are also alcohols.
Strictly speaking, he鈥檚 right of course. But a lapsed chemist colleague of Feedback points out that not even an Arsenal football player would manage to get much of a buzz out of sucking Sainsbury鈥檚 baby wipes. To the ordinary drunk on the street, 鈥渁lcohol鈥 means ethanol, and that isn鈥檛 included in the ingredients.
AT LAST the sequel you have all been waiting for. Yes, it鈥檚 nominative determinism again鈥攖he tendency of people to choose areas of work that fit their surname.
We did say in the past that we would leave the topic alone, but so many examples keep pouring in that we just couldn鈥檛 resist giving the phenomenon another outing.
An example that has attracted the attention of several readers is the Archbishop of Manila, who is called Cardinal Sin. Similarly, we are told that the head of life assurance at the Norwich Union is (or was) Mr De Ath. Then there is the Defence Research Agency鈥檚 spokeswoman Liz Peace, the spokesman for the amusement arcade gaming machine industry Paul Bellringer, and the Bristol Royal Mail customer services officer Gary Fudge鈥攏ot to mention the senator campaigning to protect the US woollen suit industry from Canadian imports, Launch Faircloth. It鈥檚 interesting, too, that Bob Dole relied for his foreign policy advice on Nelson Warfield. And who else could be appointed chief executive of Sydney Harbour Casino than Neil Gamble?
Dentistry has figured prominently in the latest crop of examples, with, notably, a husband and wife dentist team in Norfolk called Mr and Mrs Screech and a dental practice advertised in Leicester鈥檚 yellow pages as 鈥淒entith and Dentith鈥. And let us not forget that Leicester also boasts a community psychiatric nurse called Graham Twist, while there is a psychologist at Texas Women鈥檚 University named Roberta Nutt.
In addition, the London School of Economics boasts an economics lecturer called Dr Economides, and the principal at the Wimbledon School of Art is named Colin Painter. The film industry has also joined in the fray with the recent French movie Le ma卯tre des 茅l茅phants starring Jacques Dutronc.
Not for the first time, this very magazine has been inadvertently publicising the phenomenon. In the 31 August issue, the article 鈥淏end it, shake it 鈥 鈥 featured the work of nanotechnologist Richard Superfine on page 23. Then there was the designer of a dress style simulator called George Stylios (Technology, 15 June, p 23). An example which slipped past most readers (and staff) but was spotted and sent back to us from India by Prakash Bhate: 鈥淎nnouncing the results last week at the European Congress on Obesity in Barcelona, Michael Lean, professor of human nutrition at the University of Glasgow, said 鈥 鈥 (In Brief, 25 May, p 12).
Lean, we feel, might have much to discuss with David Whalebelly, the nutritionist and dietician at the local health authority in Kingston upon Thames, Surrey.
FINALLY don鈥檛 forget: you have until 6 December to enter Feedback鈥檚 Christmas competition. The challenge is to suggest 10 questions you would ask an alien if you met one. The prize for the 20 winners will be the nucleus of a small but perfectly formed whisky miniatures collection, the Classic Malts selection from United Distillers.