Wikipedia Day

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The English language Wikipedia came to life on January 15, 2001, so it’s now old enough to vote! Although I can identify numerous shortcomings of the Wikipedia—and generally try to avoid using it as a reference for articles here if I can find a better alternative—it is nevertheless an incredibly valuable, and occasionally accurate, compendium of knowledge, and I’m glad it exists! Perhaps one day I’ll be considered sufficiently notable to get my own page.

Image credit: Wikipedia [CC BY-SA 3.0]


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Author: Joe Kissell

Oxygen Bars

Patrons at an oxygen bar

I’ll have an O…Make it a double.

If you’ve been to a mall, convention center, fair, or any of numerous other public places in the past decade or two, you’ve undoubtedly encountered an oxygen bar—a counter where people pay for the odd experience of sitting and inhaling scented oxygen for a while. I heard about oxygen bars for the first time in the late 1990s, and my first visit back then, during a trip to Las Vegas, required a taxi ride to the distant suburban outskirts of town. (Nowadays, of course, they’re in every casino.) If you’ve never had the experience, you may be wondering what it’s all about.

Most oxygen bars have feature a counter with bar stools. In front of each seat at the bar is a small apparatus with several plastic cylinders filled with colored liquids, and a small control panel with a series of buttons or dials. The friendly bartender (if you can use that term) will explain how the system works. You pay for oxygen based on a fixed period of time—a typical fee is US$10 for 10 minutes or $20 for 20 minutes. Each customer gets a nasal cannula (a thin plastic tube that goes over the ears and has nozzles that fit loosely into each nostril). This is attached to the apparatus with the cylinders, each of which contains scented water. Oxygen is fed through the liquid and then into the cannula; you choose which scent or combination of scents you’d like using the dials—choices may include scents like eucalyptus, lavender, and lemon.

Oxygen smells just like ordinary air, and if not for the added aromas, you might never know the difference. Because the nasal cannula doesn’t completely block the nostrils, you end up breathing in about half oxygen and half room air. The first thing you notice when you start a session in an oxygen bar is that you and all your companions look rather silly wearing tubes in your noses. There is a certain etiquette, certain social conventions that apply in a bar; people automatically know how to look at each other and carry on a conversation. But those rules don’t seem to apply at an oxygen bar; it feels unnatural to have a casual conversation with someone when you’re both tethered by the nose to a bubbling machine. What exactly are you supposed to do? Just sit there, close your eyes, and meditate? When I went with a few friends for a 20-minute session, we tried reading the health magazines lying on the counter, but that seemed antisocial. For lack of a better strategy, we ordered fruit juice so we could have something in our hands that would allow us to pretend we were in a familiar social setting and thus be able to interact more naturally.

Getting Sober at the Bar

When our session ended, we left, taking our disposable nasal cannulas with us as souvenirs. As we walked outside, we compared notes. The general consensus was that we all felt pretty good—clear-headed, alert, content—pretty much the opposite of the way we would have expected to feel had we just left an ordinary bar. The effect was subtle, to be sure, but pleasant. In fairness, it could probably be said that a similarly tonic effect could have been achieved simply by having 20 minutes of breathing in fresh outdoor air. How much of the effect was real and how much was imagined, I can’t say. I think, though, that the mere process of breathing deeply and deliberately for 20 minutes played a large part in making us feel better.

It’s relatively inexpensive to purchase or lease the equipment to run an oxygen bar, and particularly for proprietors of existing cafés, juice bars, and similar establishments, adding oxygen equipment is a good way to boost profits. Patrons feel they’re getting something valuable, and many health-conscious customers would rather spend their money on oxygen than alcohol.

To Breathe or Not To Breathe

On the other hand, oxygen bars are coming under attack from a growing number of critics. One criticism is that oxygen can be toxic if inhaled at too high a concentration for an extended period of time, and even more so if one is suffering from certain illnesses such as emphysema. Technically, the U.S. Food and Drug Administration considers oxygen a drug that can be dispensed only by prescription, and while most states do not enforce that rule, it could be argued that oxygen bar operators are unqualified to judge patrons’ medical tolerance for oxygen. Others worry about the solutions used to add scents to the oxygen, wondering if they might in some way damage the lungs. But the biggest criticism is simply the claim that oxygen bar treatments provide no real benefit apart from a placebo effect. Healthy people already have the maximum possible concentration of oxygen in their blood, the argument goes, so adding more cannot possibly have any physiological effect.

My own feeling is that while oxygen bars may provide only minor benefits, the criticisms are a bit silly. If someone wants to pay for a few minutes of air with higher-than-normal concentrations of oxygen, whether or not that has any objectively measurable effect, it seems ridiculous to object. One could say that water should never be administered without a prescription because it can lead to drowning if used incorrectly, or that baseball bats should be licensed as deadly weapons. But people don’t say these things, because they defy common sense. Oxygen bars serve up what amounts to a 40 or 50 percent concentration of oxygen for very short periods of time; even the American Lung Association says, “…there is no evidence that oxygen at the low flow levels used in bars can be dangerous to a normal person’s health.” So while oxygen bars should perhaps not make claims of any specific medical benefits, it is certainly hard to dispute that breathing clean air for 20 minutes is better than breathing polluted air for the same period of time. And if a visit to an oxygen bar means time not spent consuming alcohol and breathing smoke, that’s undoubtedly a healthy choice as well.

Note: This is an updated version of an article that originally appeared on Interesting Thing of the Day on May 29, 2003, and again in a slightly revised form on December 12, 2004.

Image credit: Andrew Hitchcock [CC BY 2.0], via Flickr


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Author: Joe Kissell

National Clean Off Your Desk Day

A (mostly) tidy desktop

The desk at which I’m currently standing to type these words does not have enough empty space for a single sheet of letter-size paper, a fact that perturbs me every time I have documents to review or sign. I’m sorry to say that would be true even if I removed every superfluous object from the desktop—it’s just a small desk and I have a lot of tech that needs to be on it. Even so, I plan to take a few minutes today to relocate all those nonessential items, because visual clutter is distracting and I’d rather not be distracted. It’s National Clean Off Your Desk Day, so do yourself a favor and find a better home for all those things that don’t need to be on your desk. (Hey, you can do the same thing with your computer’s desktop—an excellent idea.) Good luck!

Image credit: Pixabay


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Author: Joe Kissell

Powder Coating

A powder coating gun in action

Paint’s shocking competitor

During the three years I lived in Vancouver, Canada, I worked at an office in the back of a large building in an industrial park. Our company didn’t own the building, and as the smallest of several tenants, we didn’t merit a sign on the front. The company that occupied the largest portion of the building, and therefore had its sign in large letters facing the street, was Hudson Powder Coating. I had to explain this to visitors when giving directions, and they were always confused. “What is powder coating anyway?” they usually asked. I had no idea. All I knew was that as I drove through the parking lot, I saw a lot of miscellaneous metal objects sitting in front of the company’s loading area—things like bike racks, lamp stands, car parts, and folding chairs. In the morning, these items were unfinished, and in the evening when I drove by again, they were brightly colored. I inferred from this that “powder coating” must be something like painting, though I didn’t quite see where the powder part came in.

For reasons I cannot fathom, I never actually bothered to find out what powder coating was at any time during the time I worked in the building with the powder coating company. When I finally managed to look it up, it turned out to be much more interesting than I had imagined.

I love tools, building materials, and especially hardware stores—those magical places filled with sacred Things Used To Create Other Things. In particular, I always find myself lingering in the adhesive section, eagerly reading the label of every new epoxy or sealant. I feel the same way about tape. The whole notion of one thing sticking to another has always fascinated me, and that is equally true when it comes to magnets or static electricity. For someone who likes hardware and things that stick, there could hardly be a more exciting topic than powder coating.

The Drip-Free Paint

If you look around at the metal objects in your home or office—filing cabinets, toasters, computer stands, chairs, garbage cans, and whatnot—you’ll probably notice that most of them are painted. Metal things are painted not only to make them prettier, but for the utilitarian reason of protecting them from rust, corrosion, and general dinginess. What may surprise you, however, is that many of those seemingly painted objects have never seen a drop of paint in their lives. More likely than not, the paint-like surface was applied by the wondrous process known as powder coating.

Powder coating starts with, as you might guess, a powder. This powder is somewhat like a finely ground, dried paint—a mixture of resin and pigment. You can also think of it as a powdered plastic. The general idea is to cover an object with this powder, and then heat it briefly in an oven so that the powder melts and flows together, forming a smooth, solid layer. The tricky part, though, is getting the powder to stick, preferably in an extremely even coat. This is done using electrostatic charges—the same phenomenon that makes your hair stick to your comb or dust stick to your computer screen. The powder is applied to the object using a special spray gun that gives the particles a negative electrical charge. Meanwhile, the object being coated is grounded (or, in some cases, given a positive charge). The difference in charge between the particles and the object causes a strong attraction, and presto! The powder sticks to the surface. The object and powder can maintain their attraction for hours, which is much more time than is needed to apply the heat that bakes on the finish.

A Strong Finish

Powder-coated finishes are durable and highly resistant to peeling, chipping, and fading. They can be made in almost any color—or even in wood grain—and with varying degrees of shininess ranging from a high gloss to a dull, flat finish. The process is quick, efficient, and environmentally friendly, producing no pollution or dangerous waste products. There’s also no waiting for paint to dry: as soon as a coated piece comes out of the oven and cools to the touch, it’s ready to be used.

For the most part, powder coating is used for metal objects—appliances, garden tools, engine parts, and so on. But any object that can be given an electrostatic charge is a potential candidate for powder coating. This includes glass, wood, and many kinds of plastic (think of your charged comb). The only problem comes in the curing process—plastic melts at fairly low temperatures, and wood can burn. So special types of resin powder have been created that melt at much lower temperatures; still others can be cured using infrared radiation, with curing times as short as a fraction of a minute.

A Powder Room in Your Home

While the equipment needed for powder coating is considerably more elaborate than a spray can, several companies are now offering kits that make it possible to do this at home. You can buy the special electrostatic spray gun apparatus for less than US$100. In addition, you’ll need, at minimum, an air compressor and a spare electric oven—spare because you really don’t want fumes from melting plastic mixing with your food, and electric because the vapors can ignite in a gas oven. Depending on what kinds of parts you’re coating, you may also need equipment to prepare the surface, such as sandblasting apparatus. Still, a home powder coating workshop is well within the means of many hobbyists, and provides a very professional, high-quality finish that paint often can’t match.

Powder coating is quite similar in concept to the way a photocopier or laser printer works, only in three dimensions. Charge up particles of stuff, make them stick to something else, and apply heat to make the bond permanent. It’s a brilliantly simple idea, yet extremely effective and versatile. And to think, all that magic was going on right around the corner from my office for three years. Sometimes the most interesting things are the ones right under your nose.

Note: This is an updated version of an article that originally appeared on Interesting Thing of the Day on September 10, 2003, and again in a slightly revised form on September 7, 2004.

Image credit: Alexandros T [CC BY-SA 4.0], from Wikimedia Commons


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Author: Joe Kissell

National Rubber Ducky Day

A rubber duck

Well, you learn something new every day. I grew up watching Sesame Street, so I was of course familiar with Ernie’s bath time pal, Rubber Ducky (and the song Ernie sang about it, which will now be stuck in my head for the rest of the day). What I did not know was that Rubber Ducky has a birthday. Apparently, according to a Sesame Street calendar from 1973, that day is January 13. So, happy birthday, Rubber Ducky!

Image credit: David [CC BY 2.0], via Flickr


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Author: Joe Kissell

Herrenchiemsee Castle

Herrenchiemsee Castle

King Ludwig II’s island retreat

King Ludwig II of Bavaria is one of the most colorful characters in German history. Widely regarded as insane, he was certainly a troubled individual and not well suited to the demands of a monarch’s life. Although as a ruler he was neither effective nor well-liked, he is remembered fondly today primarily because of his contributions to the future economy of Germany: his castles, which attract huge numbers of tourists each year. Of the three castles Ludwig had built, Neuschwanstein was the most famous, with its fairy-tale pseudo-medieval design. But even more ambitious was Herrenchiemsee Castle.

Sup-Versailles It

At the foot of the Bavarian Alps lies the Chiemsee, a large lake with a number of islands. To reach the largest island, Herreninsel, you take a ferry from the shore. Hidden from view by trees until you reach the island is what appears to be an exact replica of Versailles. And in fact, that was just what Ludwig was after. He didn’t like the thought of being outdone, and fancied himself as one of the great kings of Europe. So he studied Versailles carefully in order to make his version as close as possible to the original. Herrenchiemsee lacks the two side wings of Versailles, has a somewhat different interior layout, and is located in a much more secluded setting. But the overall design of the architecture—and even the choice of artwork, fabrics, and décor inside—reflects the sensibilities of French royalty.

It is not always apparent from photographs, but Herrenchiemsee was the largest and most lavish castle Ludwig had built. Construction began in 1878, financed by the king’s personal fortune. Like Neuschwanstein, this castle was never completed. Its structure was built in just a few years, but only a fraction of the interior rooms were ever finished. Visitors are uniformly impressed by the ornateness of the furnishings and attention to detail—gold and marble are everywhere you look. Unless, that is, you look very closely. A great many surfaces that appear to be marble are merely painted, and much of the gold is nothing more than a thin leaf over wood. Ludwig was not known for economy, and it is thought that the faux finishes were more a reflection of the design aesthetic of the time, just as wood-veneer plastic was considered very modern a few decades ago.

Leave Me Alone, I’m Eating

Ludwig was notoriously shy and reclusive. When possible, he avoided interacting with members of his own government, and though he was an avid fan of music and theater, he always demanded private performances. Such was Ludwig’s passion for privacy that he not only dined alone, but wanted to avoid even seeing kitchen staff before and after meals. (In all likelihood the staff didn’t want to see him either: he reportedly had terrible table manners.) This led to the most talked-about room at Herrenchiemsee: the dining room. Ludwig had an elaborate mechanism designed to lower the dining room table through the floor to the kitchen below so that it could be set and raised into the dining room without any need for the king to encounter human beings. One of the king’s other castles, Linderhof, has a similar arrangement, though at Herrenchiemsee the kitchen is open to tours so you can see the mechanism beneath the table.

According to our tour guide, Herrenchiemsee included one more bathroom than Versailles (for a grand total of one). And it is quite an extraordinary bathroom. The circular tub, if you can call it that, is the size of a small pool. Ludwig was known to be an excellent swimmer, but also, in his later years, rather rotund. So the tub (or pool) may have been designed more for the king’s bathing comfort than for exercise.

Herrenchiemsee shares another historical trait with Neuschwanstein: despite the huge sums of money spent on it and the years it remained under construction, Ludwig never got to enjoy it. He stayed there for a total of just 16 days in 1885. Shortly thereafter, construction was stopped due to a lack of funds. With three major castles simultaneously under construction and no sense of fiscal responsibility, Ludwig had exhausted his considerable resources and gone deeply into debt.

The Decline and Fall of Ludwig II

Even though the castles were not funded with state money, Ludwig’s cabinet was deeply concerned about his expensive obsession. They were concerned for other reasons too. He rarely communicated with his staff or attended to matters of state; he had frequent affairs with young army officers; he appeared to suffer from hallucinations and delusions. But more important than all these issues was the rumor that Ludwig was planning to replace his entire cabinet. In order to remain in power, the cabinet members hatched a secret plan to remove Ludwig from power. They had a detailed report of Ludwig’s troubling behavior compiled and signed by a psychiatrist named Dr. Berhardt von Gudden, even though the doctor had never even met Ludwig at the time. According to Bavarian law, the king could be removed from power only if shown to be incapable of performing his duties, and this report served that purpose. In June of 1886, Ludwig was deposed and arrested.

Just one day later, while still under custody at Berg Castle, Ludwig went for a walk on the castle grounds, escorted by Dr. Gudden. When the two did not return after several hours, a search began, and the bodies of both men were soon found floating in a nearby lake. Official reports called Ludwig’s death a suicide; Gudden, whose forehead was badly injured, was assumed to have been killed by the king before he drowned himself. However, there is considerable evidence to suggest that both men were murdered by the conspirators who removed the king from power—to be sure he never regained it. Yet another theory suggests Ludwig may have killed Gudden and then died while trying to escape by swimming across the lake. Ludwig’s death, like his life, will always be a mystery.

Note: This is an updated version of an article that originally appeared on Interesting Thing of the Day on May 19, 2003, and again in a slightly revised form on August 18, 2004.

Image credit: Guido Radig [CC BY 3.0], from Wikimedia Commons


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Author: Joe Kissell

Curried Chicken Day

Red Curry Chicken at Meiwenti, Paris

Fun fact: the number of different curries is exactly equal to the number of angels that can dance on the head of a pin. I looked it up. Whatever combination of spices strikes your fancy, the internet gods have apparently declared that chicken is what you should cook in them today, and who doesn’t want to curry favor with the internet gods? I’m suddenly in the mood for a red Thai curry, now that I think about it.

Image credit: Guilhem Vellut [CC BY 2.0], via Flickr


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Author: Joe Kissell

New Orleans Cemeteries

A cemetery in New Orleans

Cities of the dead

There are few cities with as great a reputation for decadence as New Orleans. If you want rich, fatty, and extravagant foods, you can hardly do better than the Crescent City. Alcohol flows freely, too, and almost any desire of the flesh can be indulged for a modest fee (sometimes payable in cheap plastic beads). But decadence in the original, non-metaphorical sense is also a regular fixture in this city whose past is littered with pirates, devastating fires, and horrific murders. There has been a lot of death and destruction in New Orleans, and the associated signs of physical decay—whether of buildings or of bodies—are everywhere. Particularly striking to many visitors are the city’s numerous old cemeteries filled with creepy-looking aboveground tombs. Whereas death is usually kept hidden, buried out of sight, New Orleans gives residents and visitors constant reminders of the impermanence of life.

The Dead Shall Rise Again

Why aren’t the dead in New Orleans buried underground as they are in most of the rest of the country? Tour guides are fond of explaining (and sometimes embellishing) the practice to shocked tourists. The main issue, they explain, is that New Orleans is situated slightly below sea level. Because of this, the water table is quite high. When early European settlers put coffins under six feet of earth, they found that the water level would often rise above them, especially during the city’s frequent floods. Since the coffins were filled with air, the water sometimes pushed them up through the earth, causing both a gruesome sight and a health hazard. To keep the coffins underground, holes were drilled in the lid to let air escape, and the coffins were weighted down with rocks and sand. But this was only partially successful, and in any case the saturated corpses did not decompose properly, leading to unsanitary conditions. The only solution was to bury the dead above ground.

Tour guides seldom mention that above-ground burial was a common practice in both France and Spain, where many of the early settlers were from. Even without the resurfacing coffins—which, by the way, were the exception rather than the rule—this practice may well have been adopted simply to keep with tradition. In any case, this method is still widely used today, even though the water table has dropped considerably over the past two centuries as nearby marshes and swamps were drained.

A Bone in the Oven

The first cemetery in New Orleans designed for aboveground burial was the St. Louis #1 cemetery, which opened in 1789. Some accounts claim it was modeled after Paris’s famous Père-Lachaise cemetery, and there can be no doubt that the two bear a strong resemblance to each other. But Père-Lachaise wasn’t used as a cemetery until 1804, so that resemblance may be coincidental. Be that as it may, there is a significant difference that goes beyond the superficial similarities. At Père-Lachaise, the visible structures are, for the most part, just monuments; the bodies themselves are usually placed in vaults in the floors of the tombs. In New Orleans, however, bodies are usually placed inside the walls of the tombs. Because of the hot, subtropical climate, the tomb then effectively becomes an oven, and the high heat causes the body to decompose rapidly in a process that has been compared to a slow cremation. Within about a year, only bones are left.

Just as an oven would not be constructed to bake a single loaf of bread, the tombs in New Orleans cemeteries are used again and again. The specifics vary depending on the exact design of the tomb, but a typical scenario is that after a year, the bones of the departed are swept into an opening in the floor of the tomb, which is then ready for its next occupant. It is a common practice to bury all the members of a family—or multiple families—in the same tomb, with names and dates added to a plaque or headstone as necessary. This procedure is not only sanitary and efficient; it also avoids the problem of growing real estate needs as time goes on.

No Walk in the Park

St. Louis #1 (there are, by the way, a #2 and #3 as well) is the oldest and most famous of about 15 aboveground cemeteries in and around New Orleans. Just as Jim Morrison’s grave attracts visitors to Père-Lachaise, St. Louis #1 has its own star: Marie Laveau, the Voodoo queen. Or, I should say, it has a tomb that many people believe contains her remains—no one is quite sure. But this uncertainty doesn’t stop legions of admirers from leaving offerings and marking the tomb with X’s in a supposed Voodoo ritual that is in fact apocryphal. This is just one of the cemetery sites associated with Voodoo practices—some genuine, some not.

While you may not encounter any ghosts or Voodoo rituals in the cemeteries of New Orleans, you are very likely to encounter thieves, drug dealers, and other ne’er-do-wells. Every single brochure, visitor’s guide, and concierge will warn you, repeatedly and in the strongest possible terms, not to enter the cemeteries alone or at night. Some careless tourists have unwittingly become permanent residents—enough said. That’s not to say you can’t safely visit the cemeteries, just go in a group with a tour guide, during daylight hours.

The cemeteries of New Orleans are often called “cities of the dead.” Not only do the tombs look like buildings, but the cemeteries are organized with streets (and street signs) much like the cities of the living. And it seems somehow appropriate that in New Orleans the decay of death faintly mirrors the decadence of life. That continuity between this life and the next is strangely comforting.

Note: This is an updated version of an article that originally appeared on Interesting Thing of the Day on July 31, 2003, and again in a slightly revised form on February 7, 2005.


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Author: Joe Kissell

National Hot Toddy Day

A hot toddy

Although I’d heard the expression “hot toddy,” I had only a vague idea of what it referred to until one evening when I had a cold and my wife offered to make me one. Her version involved hot tea, lemon, honey, and some type of spirit—I can’t recall whether that first one was rum, whiskey, or something else. In any case, it was delicious and soothing. Hot toddies can be made from any of numerous combinations of ingredients, but they’re invariably hot, alcoholic, and at least a bit sweet. And you can even consume them when you’re not sick! They’re just the thing to warm up on a cold winter night.

Image credit: Patrick Truby [CC BY-SA 2.0], via Wikimedia Commons


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Author: Joe Kissell

Synesthesia

An example how a synesthetic person might associate a color to letters and numbers

Making sense of shared senses

I have always enjoyed finding (or making) connections between things that don’t seem to go together. So I have a special fondness for metaphor—especially when it’s indirect and novel. A number of years ago, a friend suggested we go out to dinner together. I asked what kind of place he had in mind, and he said, “Oh, I was thinking we’d go to a green restaurant.” I didn’t know what relevance a restaurant’s color could have, and the usual metaphorical meanings of green (“environmentally sensitive,” “inexperienced,” “nauseated,” etc.) didn’t seem to apply. Noticing my confusion, my friend explained his unusual usage of the term. “There’s a class of restaurants,” he said, “whose décor consists mainly of antiques hung on the walls and brass railings. There’s always a central bar, a lively atmosphere, pub-style food, and an excessively cheerful wait staff. You know the type—T.G.I. Friday’s, Chili’s, Bennigan’s, Applebees…” I nodded. I knew the type. He continued, “These restaurants also typically have green awnings. Thus: ‘green restaurants.’” Ever since then, I’ve referred to this class of restaurants as “green,” even when the awnings are red-and-white striped, when there are no awnings at all, or when other details differ from the canonical example. I like that description, because it’s the most compact way I can think of to describe that type of restaurant.

That Name Rings a Bell

For some people, though, the word “restaurant” may literally cause them to experience the color green—or a particular texture, smell, or taste. This is just one example of a phenomenon known as synesthesia, in which senses blend together or trigger each other in one way or another. In one of the more common forms of synesthesia, a given letter or number invariably appears to be a certain color. In other cases, a certain kind of sound may cause someone to see a color or experience a tactile sensation, or a texture or color may provoke the experience of a taste.

There are at least 50 different types of synesthesia, involving various combinations of senses both as the triggering stimulus and the secondary response. Some forms of synesthesia are experienced as multiple modalities of a single physical sense. For example, seeing a number might evoke a certain color for one synesthete, while in another person the same number might cause a different visual sensation, such as a pattern or shape. One sense may also trigger another, as in a tactile sensation that has a taste. But not all synesthetic experiences are restricted to the five senses. In some synesthetes, a word or sound might evoke a sensation of motion, or even a kinesthetic response, inducing the person to assume a particular physical position. There are also cases in which abstract concepts, such as days of the week or months of the year, cause the sensation of shapes, colors, or other experiences.

Survey Says…

Estimates vary widely as to what percentage of the population experiences synesthesia. I’ve read claims that as few as 1 in 25,000 or as many as 1 in 300 people have at least one pair of overlapping senses (in rare cases, all five senses are blended together), though everyone seems to agree that it’s more common among women and left-handed persons than the rest of the population. Synesthesia is always referred to neutrally as a “condition”—neither a “defect” nor a “gift”—because even though it’s abnormal in the sense of being rare, no one can seem to work out whether it’s advantageous or disadvantageous from an evolutionary point of view. It’s simply a trait, like having blond hair or being able to curl one’s tongue, that some people have and others don’t. There are cases in which synesthesia acts as a memory aid, and it is also associated with higher-than-normal levels of creativity. On the other hand, there are a few cases where the blending of senses is so pronounced that almost any stimulus produces a disturbing state of sensory overload.

Synesthesia is an inherited trait, although researchers have not identified the responsible gene (or genes) or the exact parameters that determine how it is transmitted. In any case, people with synesthesia experience the sensations involuntarily and consistently. There have been some reported cases in which children with synesthesia lose the multisensory associations as they grow older, but for the most part, a given stimulus always produces the same secondary response in a given person—if the number 5 is red, it will always be red; if the word “groovy” tastes like mint, it will be just as minty 10 years from now. That said, though, there is little consistency from one synesthete to the next in what sensations are triggered by what stimuli. No one has yet determined exactly how the specific associations form.

It’s Not Easy Hearing Green

Although synesthesia has been known and documented in medical literature since 1880, it was largely ignored as a field of serious inquiry until late in the 20th century. Many people believed that those who reported synesthesia were “just imagining things,” which is a strange accusation considering that all sensory perception is, by definition, in one’s head. But if someone reported that the letter R felt cold, it was easy to conclude that the person was just speaking metaphorically, or remembering a childhood association of some kind—not really experiencing the sensation of cold. Recently, though, researchers have used several clever techniques to prove conclusively that the secondary sensations are actually experienced in the brain, not simply memories or a poetic way of speaking.

In one experiment, for example, scientists filled a page with nearly identical monochrome 2s and 5s, asking subjects to tell them what pattern was formed by the 2s. Nonsynesthetes had great difficulty in picking out any pattern, because they had to look at each individual character. But for synesthetes who perceived 2s and 5s in different colors, the pattern (say, a triangle) formed by the 2s immediately jumped out.

Light Me Up

Having learned that synesthesia is a genuine sensory experience, researchers concocted more elaborate tests to determine what may be going on in the brain when such experiences occur. One such technique is a Functional MRI (magnetic resonance imaging) test, in which subjects are placed in a machine that can display a dynamic, real-time, 3D representation of blood flow in the brain. The parts of the brain that are activated in response to specific stimuli “light up” in distinctive colors. So in the case of someone who hears colors, showing the subject a color will cause the parts of the brain that handle auditory information to be activated, just as they would be if the person had actually heard the sound.

When discussing what happens in the brain in synesthesia, it’s common to talk about “crossed wires,” and of course the phenomenon does suggest communication between parts of the brain that do not normally interact. But the image of crossed wires is probably misleading; strictly speaking, synesthesia does not appear to require a different or more elaborate set of neural connections than in a normal brain. Instead, the prevailing belief is that existing connections are simply used in a new way, or that chemicals that ordinarily inhibit this type of cross-communication are not released. This notion is supported by the fact that phenomena similar to synesthesia sometimes occur in otherwise normal people who suffer seizures, have brain injuries, or use certain kinds of drugs. But apart from physical or chemical trauma to the brain, there is no evidence that synesthesia is a trait that can be learned or acquired deliberately.

A recurring theme among people with synesthesia is that they have learned by experience not to share their unusual sensations; painful tales of childhood ridicule are common. This is a great pity, because one person’s scary mutation is another person’s super power. With any luck, the combination of more generous cultural attitudes and really expensive scientific equipment will open all new doors for understanding and appreciating the unusual abilities of synesthetes.

Note: This is an updated version of an article that originally appeared on Interesting Thing of the Day on August 27, 2003, and again in a slightly revised form on July 8, 2004.

Image credit: User:Mysid [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons


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Author: Joe Kissell