51¶ŻÂț

Feedback

COULD THIS be a parting shot from a disgruntled programmer, or just one of
those unfortunate mistakes? With Christmas fast approaching, reader David
Bradley was perusing the online catalogue of the department store Debenhams at
www.debenhams.com. He decided a decanter or a jug and some glasses would make
the ideal Christmas present for his sister Sue.

But typing the word “jugs” into the keyword slot and hitting the search
button resulted not in a rundown of vessels for pouring, but in a collection of
bras with names like the “Wicked” bra, the “Shame on you” bra and the
“Wonderbra¼” blissℱ dew drop bra”.

Bradley says he’ll have to think more carefully about schoolboy slang the
next time he goes e-shopping.

AND a timely press release from the American Chemical Society, headed: “`Gift
of the Magi’ bears anti-cancer agents.”

It seems that myrrh, the medicinal gift brought by the third Wise Man for the
baby Jesus, contains a chemical that might one day be used to treat prostate and
breast cancer.

How convenient that this should be discovered just in time for
Christmas—a point obviously not lost on the American Chemical Society
press office.

WE PREDICT that many Feedback readers will have experiences like Michelle
Wileman’s in the next few days. Her daughter Abigail, aged 2, recently received
the seemingly ideal present of a “0-3 years counting book” published by Peter
Haddock.

Wileman was rather less impressed when she turned the book over and read the
legend “not suitable for children under 3 years”. Sigh . . .

THE journal Astronomy and Geophysics recently carried a news item by
editor Sue Bowler on the results of optical interferometry tests on the European
Southern Observatory’s Very Large Telescope (ULT). The thing isn’t finished yet,
but with just two of the four planned 8.2-metre telescopes in place, they have
already been able to determine the diameter of the star Achernar, at 0.00192 ±
0.00005 arc seconds. And that, Bowler reminds us, is equivalent to seeing “a car
on the surface of the Moon”.

Well, forget cars: what we all want to know is whether the VLT can make out a
lunar module on the Moon. For years, conspiracy theorists have claimed that the
Apollo lunar landings were faked in a studio in downtown Burbank. At last,
here’s a chance to settle it once and for all.

Consider: the base of the lunar module (the only bit
that—allegedly—was left behind by the returning astronauts) is
around 4 metres across. The Moon is around 384,400 kilometres away, so a bit of
trigonometry shows that the base of the lunar module should subtend an angle of
about 10-8 radians, or 0.002 arc seconds. Which is well within what the
VLT can now resolve.

So what are we waiting for? Let’s do what the crazies have been demanding for
years, and point the VLT at the Sea of Tranquillity and the other five landing
sites for good measure.

But on second thoughts, you can already hear what the crazies would say if
the modules turned up: NASA secretly sent unmanned Apollo rockets to the Moon to
dump them on the surface as part of the cover-up.

FROM the department of the blindingly obvious: reader Terry Tuck recalls a
time he attempted to take the stairs to the second floor of a London department
store. He encountered a door which had a sign saying “This door is temporarily
łŠ±ôŽÇČő±đ»ć”.

A CLASSIC among scientific press releases thuds onto Feedback’s desk. “Do
genetically modified hormones given to dairy cows pose a health hazard?” The
answer, the Optimal Wellness Center is keen to announce, is “a resounding
`maybe’, according to researchers writing in the Western Journal of
Čѱđ»ćŸ±łŠŸ±ČÔ±đ”.

Anyone who’s tried to get a definite “yes” or “no” out of a thoughtful
scientist will sympathise. But perhaps it’s better to trumpet a “resounding
maybe” than to engage in hyperbole, or, worse, its opposite:
floccinaucinihilipilification. The New Oxford Dictionary of English
defines this as “the action or habit of estimating something as
worthless”—though as a true scientist might put it, the probability that
you can work it seamlessly into conversation around the festive table is
vanishingly small.

But then, we have managed to work it into this column—and won an office
bet by getting it into the Christmas issue. Ha!

READER Paul Teeside-Spittle wanted to know if it would alright to take his
6-year-old son on the annual Rimutaka Incline walk, near Wellington in New
Zealand. Here’s what he found on www.coolrunning.co.nz/races/rimutaka/info.html:
“Eligibility: Open to all entrants 12 years of age and over—unless accompanied
by an adult.”

THE Autocad menu compiler ‘makes the previously tedious and error-prone
task of constructing tablet menus merely boring and unforgiving’

JAM MUST be conducive to a long life—or at least making it must be. The
label on a jar of W. P. Hartley’s organic blackcurrant jam reads: “Sir William
P. Hartley, purveyor of fine preserves since 1873, introduces his first
delicious and simply natural Blackcurrant Organic Conserve . . .”

AND NOW Feedback brings you—especially those of you who while away
the long dark evenings with the Classics—semiotheogony. Reader Jon Hill sent
in a photo taken at the harbour in Gothenburg, which reads “Varor att
deklarera—Gods to declare”.

The arrow beneath obviously points to Valhalla. Or Olympus, if you look at it
from the right angle. Or the entire Universe, if you’re pagan enough.

IT ONLY remains for us to wish all our readers the compliments of the season,
and to thank the many hundreds of you who have sent in contributions and
comments on Feedback over the past year. It has often been impossible for us to
reply personally to everyone, but it’s always a delight to hear from you.
Feedback would be nothing without you. Have a great break.