HOME |
RSS | 
The moral of the story is: if you are going to sail off the coast of Wales on December 5th, you may want to change your name to Hugh Williams. But is this a true story? Any records from these incidences seem to be at least second-hand. I found a post at The Scuttlefish that may shed a bit of light on how “coincidental” the story really is. And be sure to check out the comment from Hugh Williams. Link
History is full of hoaxes, and that includes people who aren’t really people. These “people” are handy, because they can be used as sources, they can be quoted, and they can be blamed. Because they don’t exist, they won’t mind!
Film fans and critics often rail against so-called “quote whores”—reviewers who are willing to write a positive notice for any movie as long as the studios wine and dine them enough—and David Manning of the Ridgefield Press was seemingly one of the worst. Around 2000, his glowing reviews frequently appeared on the posters for such universally loathed films as The Animal (“another winner!”) and Hollow Man (“stupendous!”). Manning would have been a running contender for America’s worst working film critic, save for one key detail: he didn’t exist. As it turned out, a marketing executive at Sony had invented Manning as a tool for building positive press for films released by the corporation’s subsidiary Columbia Pictures.
Read more about Manning and nine other nonexistent folks you may know at Top Tenz. Link
Santa Claus came about when the story of the St. Nicholas of Myra was melded with the legend of Odin. The image was refined by poetry, illustration, and advertising. Get the details on the origins of Santa Claus at it THING. Link -via the Presurfer
You’ve heard the story of the Pied Piper, who lured away all the children of Hamelin because the town wouldn’t pay him for getting rid of the rats. There’s a real story behind the legend, and the town of Hamelin, Germany lives with the events of June 26th, 1284. Contemporary accounts are lost, but writings from the 14th century apparently reference early reports. What really happened to the children of Hamelin? Were they recruited for some crusade? Did they die of the plague? Did they just run away? Or could they have been victims of mass hysteria?
Another episode that shares features with the Pied Piper events took place in 1237 in the town of Erfurt, 271km south-east of Hamelin. A group of children marched in a dancing procession towards Arnstadt, 15km to the south, where they were said to have collapsed with exhaustion. Unlike the children of Hamelin, the Erfurt youngsters were rescued by their parents, who took them back to their homes. Still, some of them were said either to have died or remained afflicted with a permanent tremor.
The events at Erfurt are considered to be one of the first manifestations of the mediæval phenomenon known as the Dancing Mania (see FT:203:30–34), usually interpreted as a form of mass hysteria related to religious fervour. Dancing Mania was reportedly spread by “the sight of sufferers, like a demoniacal epidemic, over the whole of Germany and the neighbouring countries to the northwest”. [2] Those affected were described as unable to control their movements, or to stop their endless dance, and many were said to have died of exhaustion. As with Hamelin, we have an image of a crowd of children led away by music, perhaps to their deaths.
An article at Fortean Times lays out several possibilities for the disappearance of 130 children from Hamelin. Link
The native Maori of New Zealand tell of a giant man-eating bird called Te Hokioi. Now scientists have identified a real bird that fits the description. Haast’s Eagle has been extinct for only 500 years, and may be the source of the Maori tales. The bird with up to a four meter wingspan was first discovered in 1870, but until recently was thought to be a scavenger. Recent scans show the bird to be strong enough to kill prey much larger than itself.
“It was certainly capable of swooping down and taking a child,” said Paul Scofield, the curator of vertebrate zoology at the Canterbury Museum.
“They had the ability to not only strike with their talons but to close the talons and put them through quite solid objects such as a pelvis. It was designed as a killing machine.”
Its main prey would have been moa, flightless birds which grew to as much as 250kg and 2.5 metres tall.
“In some fossil sites, moa bones have been found with signs of eagle predation,” Dr Scofield said.
Link -via the Presurfer
(image credit: John Megahan/PLoS Biology)
