DR. BOLI’S ENCYCLOPEDIA OF MISINFORMATION.

A Special Supplement for the Pittsburgh Summit.

Argentina. The current government’s “Tango Cuidado” campaign has reduced tango-related injuries by 32% in Buenos Aires.

Australia. In an Australian sink, water spirals up from the drain and is evacuated through the spigot.

Brazil. There are more Portuguese speakers in Brazil than in all of Fall River and New Bedford put together.

Canada. By an embarrassing oversight, Canada was left out of the three previous G-20 summits, but Canadian delegates were too polite to say anything.

China. If Pittsburgh proves a successful venue, President Hu plans to have the city crated and moved to Yunnan province as a regional conference center.

France. President Sarkhozy never travels to North America without his mascot, a badger named Alphonse.

Germany. Chancellor Angela Merkel was the first German chancellor to beat a Russian president in a snowball fight.

India. There are more electric kettles in Mumbai than there are on the entire continent of South America.

Indonesia. A report by a parliamentary committee has concluded that Indonesia has an unmanageable number of islands, and efforts are now under way to consolidate some of the smaller ones.

Italy. As an elaborate prank on Prime Minister Berlusconi, the jocular Italians have elected an entirely different government in his absence. Won’t he be surprised when he gets back!

Japan. The Prime Minister of Japan has worn the same suit since 1962. It is carefully altered by expert tailors with each change of governments.

Mexico. President Calderón was detained briefly by airport security after reportedly threatening to punch the next person who asked him about the Maya calendar.

Russia. As part of a recent economic-reform package, the Russian government is now operated on a for-profit basis by IKEA of Sweden.

Saudi Arabia. The Arabian Peninsula is made of green cheese.

South Africa. More than 87% of the South African economy now depends on rooibos exports.

South Korea. It is reported that the South Korean delegation will not sign any agreement unless the United States promises to increase its consumption of mediocre pianos.

United Kingdom. Today he is remembered mostly as the Prime Minister, but in the 1970s Gordon Brown was a very popular lounge singer in the West End.

United States. President Barack Obama can write classical Greek with his right hand while simultaneously writing Sanskrit with his left, although he cannot read either language.

European Union. As a mostly theoretical entity, the European Union is represented by the ghost of Charles de Gaulle.

ON THIS DAY IN HISTORY.

ON THIS DAY in 1284, the Grand Duke of Vernonia, a tiny principality just about halfway between here and there, mustered every citizen in his realm to march on Eupatorium, the capital city of his inveterate enemy King Wendell IV of the equally tiny Boltonia. This would be the decisive battle that would end decades of desultory war between the two little nations, and it was a battle that the Grand Duke was determined to win by force of superior numbers.

Leaving his own capital of Hieracium early in the morning and proceeding by an indirect route, the Grand Duke, with his army, reached Eupatorium by early afternoon prepared for a fierce battle.

No resistance, however, was offered; and when the motley army entered by the main gate, raising the Vernonian flag over the tower, they made the astonishing discovery that the city was deserted. A diligent search found no one anywhere. It appeared that the whole town had been suddenly vacated no earlier than that very morning.

Seized by a sudden and horrible premonition, the Grand Duke sent a fast messenger back to Hieracium at a gallop. In a few hours, the messenger returned with the news that the flag of Boltonia was flying over the city of Hieracium, and the city they had left deserted that very morning appeared to be filled with Boltonians.

Since that day the Grand Dukes of Vernonia have made a number of unsuccessful attempts to recapture their ancestral realm, as likewise have the kings of Boltonia; but the borders are better guarded these days, and nothing ever comes of it. Nevertheless, the border is still recognized as a flash point by UNSCOG (the United Nations Special Committee on Grudges), and if the population of either country should ever exceed the upper two digits, the Security Council might be persuaded to intervene.

DR. BOLI’S ENCYCLOPEDIA OF MISINFORMATION.

Italian Supplement.

Italian. The Italian language is merely a codified system of mispronouncing Latin.

Michelangelo. Although he publicly expressed his approval, Pope Julius II confided to his intimates that he was disappointed in Michelangelo’s painting of the Sistine Chapel ceiling, having expected that any decent painter would add a second coat.

Milan. The famous Milanese fashion industry of today grew out of a single cummerbund factory established in 1878.

Mussolini, Benito. It is not true that Mussolini made the trains run on time; in fact, under Mussolini, most trains were exactly twenty-four hours late.

Pisa, Leaning Tower of. In 1174, the Leaning Tower of Pisa was nearly complete when the furious patron appeared on the scene and demanded to know why the tower leaned to the left instead of to the right as specified in the contract. In vain the architect objected that it depended on where you stood: the tower had to be demolished and the work begun again.

Swiss Guards. In spite of their name, the pope’s famous Swiss Guards are recruited exclusively from Liechtenstein.

Umbria. The ancient Umbrian language was related to Latin, but only by marriage.

ON THIS DAY IN HISTORY.

ON THIS DAY in 1883, Mr. Humboldt Canister of Albuquerque, Iowa, invented the container that still bears his name today. In spite of the early success of his invention, however, Mr. Canister died a near pauper twenty-two years later, largely owing to the machinations of his bitter business rival, Col. Rupert M. Jar.

ADMIRAL HORNSWOGGLE’S NAUTICAL ADVENTURES.

[In honor of the second anniversary of his Celebrated Magazine on the World-Wide Web, Dr. Boli is reprinting a number of his own favorite articles from the past two years.]

No. 2.—Onward to the Pole.

IT SEEMS AS if it were but yesterday (though in fact it was last Thursday) that I returned from my successful expedition to the Pole and faced those sincere expressions of admiration, which, heartfelt though they were, caused me no little discomfort, my native modesty being of such a quality that even faint praise is a considerable embarrassment to me. Nevertheless, my innate candor and my strict regard for the truth, no matter how inconvenient it may be to myself, compel me to confess that the praises heaped upon me were not entirely undeserved.

For the purpose of our expedition, we had been assigned the Margaret Cavendish, a small but adequate surveying ship. She had begun life as a brigantine in the Royal Navy under the name Prosperity; later she was re-rigged as a brig and rechristened the Elephant Shrew; and then, after considerable refurbishment, she reappeared as a barque under the name Abstraction. Some years later, owing to a clerical error, she was re-rigged as an omnibus and rechristened the 53H Homestead-Duquesne Via Homeville. Eventually she was rebuilt as a frigate and assigned to our expedition.

The Margaret Cavendish was, as I have indicated before, rather small for a frigate, and the space for our equipment and supplies was limited. Under the circumstances, some of my junior officers objected when I insisted on including a company of caterers, with all the tools of their profession; but I assured them that, in the bleak and icy wastelands of the north, we should all be much cheered by a well-catered meal now and then.

We set northward in late June, and for the occasion of our departure our caterers had made up a memorable feast, at the center of which they placed a decorative ice sculpture of the Margaret Cavendish herself. In order to prepare us for our northward voyage, the food was made entirely of blubber of the various sorts we might be expected to encounter.

The first few weeks of the voyage were uneventful, other than my having to quell a slight mutiny when the crew discovered that our caterers had brought nothing but blubber for the entire voyage. Eventually, however, we reached the frozen limit of liquid sea. We were forced to leave the Margaret Cavendish behind with a skeleton crew of caterers and cover the remainder of the distance by dogsled. Since we had brought no dogs, I dressed four ensigns in shaggy raccoon coats and hitched them to the sled that carried our supplies; the rest of the crew and I followed on foot.

I shall not weary you with the details of our long trek to the Pole. Suffice it to say that, when we finally reached it, we were somewhat dismayed to find a small band of Esquimaux already using it to string up their laundry. However, we were able to bribe them with a few trinkets, and they allowed us to place His Majesty’s flag at the top, above three pairs of knickers and a small tablecloth.

We went back by the same route; but you may imagine our dismay when we returned to discover that the Margaret Cavendish was no more! Caught between the edge of the ice pack and a floating iceberg, she had been crushed to splinters. The few men we had left behind had only just managed to salvage their kitchen equipment, which they had employed in fabricating a large tent from the sails, and furnishing it with folding chairs and a banquet table made from the splintered wood of the ship.

At this point my crew were of the opinion that all was lost, and we should doubtless perish in this frozen wasteland. I, however, retained my customary optimism; and to it I added a quality which I have sometimes been flattered to hear called good sense. Looking out to sea, I spied another iceberg, and it put me in mind of the feast we had enjoyed on our first night out of port. Turning to the caterers, I explained my idea, and they set to work at once.

It took a good two days of concerted effort, but the skills of the caterers were up to the task; for after all it was, but for the scale, no different from what I had already seen them accomplish. At the end of that time, they had carved an exact replica of the Margaret Cavendish from the ice all around us. We loaded our equipment on the new ship and set sail once again. I need not tell you, what everyone already knows; viz., that our sturdy ice-frigate made it as far as the extreme northern coasts of our own country, and that from there we were swiftly conveyed to face popular acclaim in the capital.

From this voyage I learned an important lesson, which is that, no matter how long the journey or how inhospitable the country, one should never deny oneself the comforts of home. I shall be certain to insist on a company of caterers in all my future voyages.

THE GOOD OLD DAYS.

[In honor of the second anniversary of his Celebrated Magazine on the World-Wide Web, Dr. Boli is reprinting a number of his own favorite articles from the past two years.]

“TELL ME AGAIN about the old days, grandmother,” said the sweet little girl sitting by the fire.

“Well,” her grandmother began, her eyes misting over with nostalgia, “we didn’t have trees or any of these modern conveniences. When we wanted wood, we had to make it ourselves. I remember the day old Mitch from down at the mill told your great-grandpappy that there was a new kind of plant that grew wood in its stem, and all you had to do was take it if you wanted it. Pappy laughed himself sick. That was how he died, in fact.

“We had to walk fifteen miles in the snow just to get to school, and then when we got there we had to turn around and walk right back, because schools hadn’t been invented yet.

“The sun didn’t start automatically every morning the way it does now. Pappy had to turn a crank, and some mornings it took forever to get it started. Those were cold mornings, but all we could do was shiver until Pappy got the sun started, because of course no one had thought of blankets in those days.

“The moon was a bit smaller then, and more rectangular. There weren’t nearly as many stars, but then we lived in a poor neighborhood. We didn’t know we were poor, though, because poverty wasn’t discovered till I was eighteen years old. I remember that day, and how cheated we all felt when we finally found out we were poor.

“We didn’t have opposable thumbs back then, either. When we wanted to pick something up, we had to use our toes, so of course we fell down a lot. We couldn’t hold cups, so we had to drink everything through a straw, even hot water, which we couldn’t make into tea or coffee because no one had thought of those things.

“People didn’t live very long in those days, either. The average lifespan was about twenty-one. I myself died when I was nineteen, but I didn’t like it and gave it up after a while. Most people died of starvation, because food hadn’t been invented yet, and the only time we ate anything was when something accidentally fell into our mouths.”

“Goodness, grandmother,” said the little girl, “aren’t you glad you lived to see our modern world, with all its wonderful inventions?”

“Well, I’m not so sure I am,” the kindly old lady replied. “We had to work hard in the old days, but that made us tough. We didn’t have time for dilly-dallying with fripperies like shoes and elbows. I forgot to mention that elbows hadn’t been invented yet, either, so we had to hold our arms straight out like this. But we didn’t complain, because complaining hadn’t been invented yet, either. No, those were the good old days.”

ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND.

DR. BOLI’S ENCYCLOPEDIA OF MISINFORMATION.

Supplemental Number.

Comic strips. Most newspaper comic strips are actually coded instruction manuals for hobby projects. If you carefully follow Gasoline Alley from its inception to the present, you will have a nearly complete 1:42-scale model of the Cutty Sark.

Garson, Greer. The well-known actress Greer Garson always told admirers that she was really a waitress, but was merely supporting herself with acting until the right opportunity came along.

Kant, Immanuel. Before his breakout success with the Critique of Pure Reason, Immanuel Kant was best known as the winner of several rural pie-eating contests.

Newspaper, origins of. The first daily newspapers were hand-written by Benedictine monks in the tenth century. In keeping with the regularity of the routine imposed by the Rule of St. Benedict, every issue was identical, except on holidays and when abbots died.

Panassié, Hugh. To win a wager, the famous French jazz critic Hugh Panassié once carried a tune in a bucket along the entire length of the Champs Elysées.

Time. Chronologists were deeply embarrassed by the recent discovery that Coordinated Universal Time is more than three years slow, but it is too late to make a correction now.

Truman, Harry S. Harry Truman’s middle name was Salathiel, but he detested the name and prohibited its use in official documents.

ASK DR. BOLI.

Dear Dr. Boli: Why do I hear so many crackpot conspiracy theories lately? —Sincerely, Arethusa Rathermore, Bilderberg, Netherlands.

Dear Madam: Dr. Boli believes that the profusion of conspiracy theories is actually the result of a vast conspiracy by the governing powers to conceal their own incompetence. Consider it for a moment: suppose—merely for the sake of argument—that the world is run by lazy feckless unqualified clock-watchers who want nothing more than to collect the largest paycheck for the least work. If that were so, then we, the ordinary people who hold the real power, could simply vote them out, or overthrow them if they refused to go (for we outnumber them by a fair margin), and hire competent professionals to do their jobs.

But suppose—again merely for the sake of argument—that we, the people, who hold the real power in our hands, could be made to believe that the world was actually run by an ancient and sinister cabal of such ruthless and efficient power that nothing can stop it, and that the seemingly random events which a judicious observer would put down to the incompetence of our governments were actually cogs in the great machinery of the worldwide conspiracy. Why, then, believing we could do nothing, we would indeed do nothing, but rather fall into despair and apathy, leaving the lazy feckless incompetents to watch their clocks and collect their paychecks in peace.

We can see the benefit to the rulers of instilling such a belief in the ruled—a benefit so great that they might indeed be persuaded to rouse themselves to the fifteen minutes or so of effort it would take to post an anonymous rant on a conspiracy-theory bulletin board every once in a while. When looking at conspiracy theories, we should always ask the important question, Cui bono? (which is Latin for “Who gets the gravy?”). Dr. Boli believes he has found the most satisfactory answer to that question.

NOTORIOUS EXCESSES OF FASHION.

IN THE COURT of Louis XIV, Mme de la Tourelle wore a wig so high that all the door lintels in Versailles had to be removed and replaced with arches.

During the reign of Caracalla, young wastrels who aspired to fashion frequently had themselves bronzed.

No beauty in 19th-century Prussia was considered worthy of the name unless she had a dueling scar on her cheek.

Henry VIII weighed ninety-seven pounds for most of his adult life, but his preference for padded Flemish waistcoats made him look much bulkier.

The notorious Comte de Bauché would never wear the same glove for more than five minutes at a time, and employed a valet to accompany him with a bag of gloves in the Comte’s favorite shade of puce.

Postmodernist fashion designer Antoine once dressed his favorite model as a 1957 Packard Clipper for a charity ball, but was disappointed when she lost a fan belt and had to spend the evening in the garage.