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Weekend Edition: 5-1

Interesting Reading in the Interweb Tubez

  • How Donald Trump Wanted the End of History (“The most valuable real estate Donald J. Trump ever acquired in his shady, shoddy career as a developer was the terrain inside our heads. And like so much else he got hold of, he wrecked it.”)

Q Droppings

Nonbookish Linkage

  • The worst year to be alive? 536 CE
  • The history of one of the most Godawful foods — fish sticks

Bookish Linkage


The self-righteous rule out the possibility that they are what has gone wrong.

Mason Cooley, City Aphorisms, Fourteenth Selection (1994)

The Vatican’s time machine?

It had to be true. After all, it was there in black and white in La Domenica del Corriere (“Courier Sunday”), a long-established weekly news magazine: “Invented: a machine that photographs the past.” Not only was there a diagram of the machine but a photograph of an ancient event — the face of Jesus Christ during his crucifixion. Moreover, the story came from an Italian Benedictine monk who said he was part of a Vatican-funded team that invented the “Chronovisor.”

Father Pellegrino Ernetti was a noted musicologist who also studied physics. Ernetti worked on an audio project involving Gregorian chants at the Catholic University of Milan. Listening to one of the tapes in September 1952, the school’s founder, Father Agostino Gemelli, was convinced he heard his dead father’s voice. Ernetti wondered if sound somehow continued to exist in some way. Gemelli was president of the Pontifical Academy of Sciences and obtained funding for a team led by Ernetti to explore the question.

Ernetti said a team of 12 people worked for years on the project. French priest Francois Brune, a friend of Ernetti’s, would later report that Ernetti only identified two: Nobel Laureate Enrico Fermi and rocket scientist Wernher von Braun. In his May 2, 1972, interview with La Domenica del Corriere, Ernetti said the group discovered that sound and light disintegrate into different energy forms. Using a series of antennas made of three mysterious metals, the Chronovisor reconstructed residual electromagnetic radiation left over by numerous processes. A sensor could select a specific location, date, and even a particular person, and the reconstruction appeared on a cathode ray tube.

The device was more television than a time machine. It didn’t take someone physically into the past, only allowed past events to be viewed and recorded. Hence, the name Chronovisor. Ernetti told the magazine that the scientific team viewed the crucifixion of Christ and other events, but he believed the device was dangerous because it could pick up thoughts. Notably, Ernetti did not provide a photo of Christ’s face. The Milan-based magazine said it received it from an anonymous man.

Article in La Domenica del Corriere

In his 2002 book, Le Nouveau Mystere du Vatican (“The New Mystery of the Vatican”), Brune said Ernetti told him they recorded Christ from the Last Supper to his death. According to Brune, these weren’t the first or only events the team viewed. They observed speeches by Cicero, Mussolini, and Napoleon, looked at a 2nd-century Roman market, and saw a 169 BCE performance of the play Thyestes by Roman poet Quintus Ennius. Only fragments of the play still existed, so Ernetti transcribed the entire performance as proof of the Chronovisor’s existence.

Ernetti told Brune they disassembled the machine after the experimental stage because of fear it could reveal anything that happened in the past, including state secrets. The claimed destruction led to conjecture that the Chronovisor still exists, stashed away in the Vatican Secret Archive. Yet, there seem to be more grounds to doubt the machine ever existed.

Several months after the story in La Domenica del Corriere, another Italian magazine received a photograph of the face of Christ on a woodcarving in a church in a small Umbrian village. Aside from being reversed, the image was virtually identical to the photo in La Domenica del Corriere. A Spanish sculptor made the woodcarving in 1931 based on a nun’s vision. According to Brune, Ernetti said it resembled the Chronovisor photo because the nun saw the actual crucifixion, just as they had.

Ernetti’s other “proof” also seems problematic. Katherine Eldred, a doctor in classics, was asked to study and translate Ernetti’s Thyestes for the English edition of Austrian Peter Krassa’s 1997 book about Ernetti. Eldred noted that Ernetti’s transcription was only a tenth as long would be expected, and a number of the words in it weren’t part of the Latin language for another 250 years. She also said that the wording suggested limited Latin skills, which one wouldn’t expect of someone who wrote in Latin.

Krassa also published a letter reportedly from an unidentified “distant relative” of Ernetti. It claimed that on his deathbed in 1994, the monk confessed that the Christ photo and Thyestes manuscript were fake. Ernetti also supposedly said Fermi had nothing to do with the Chronovisor, although, notably, he insisted the machine was real. Brune, whose book awaits an English translation, says any such confession was false and forced by church authorities.

Despite no hard evidence of its existence, any time machine in the Vatican Secret Archive is exceptional fodder for all kinds of tales. But why would an educated and respected monk invent and stand by such an outlandish story for decades? A definitive answer may require a machine that can see past events and read the participants’ thoughts.


All investigations of Time, however sophisticated or abstract, have at their true base the human fear of mortality

Thomas Pynchon, Against the Day

(Originally posted at History of Yesterday)

An astronomer helped fake Britain’s first UFO contactee story

Kenneth Arnold could never have imagined the consequences when he reported seeing nine shiny objects flying rapidly past Mount Rainier on June 24, 1947. He told reporters the next day that they flew “like a saucer if you skip it across the water.” The “flying saucer” age was underway, ceaselessly barreling ahead to this day.

UFO (unidentified flying object) sightings were so numerous that by February 1955, TIME magazine would remark, “Simply sighting flying saucers is out of date — the big spin now is to spot them landing and to hobnob with their interplanetary passengers.” The comment came in the magazine’s review of Cedric Allingham’s book, Flying Saucer from Mars. Allingham, described as a 32-year-old “thriller-writer, amateur stargazer, and bird watcher,” reported that while on vacation in northeast Scotland in February 1954, he encountered and visited with a Martian.

Skeptics noted that Allingham’s experience came within months of the British publication of Flying Saucers Have Landed by Californian George Adamski. Adamski is considered the first person to publicly claim to be a “UFO contactee,” someone who’s had direct contact with extraterrestrial beings. He said that on November 20, 1952, a large translucent UFO landed near him in a California desert. The pilot, a Venusian named Orthon, left the ship to converse with Adamski through telepathy and hand signals. Adamski’s book sold 65,000 copies in the U.S. and 40,000 in England in only a year.

Allingham said he was bird-watching when a 50-foot flying saucer landed beside him, as happened to Adamski. The alien used a sketch drawn by Allingham to show he was from Mars. He also indicated he’d visited Venus and the Moon. Akin to Adamski, Allingham communicated with the Martian with gestures. Like Adamski’s Venusian, the Martian expressed concern about humankind’s wars. Allingham took a photo of the visitor — but from behind. His pictures of the Martian spacecraft were more blurry but similar to Adamski’s pictures of the Venusian craft.

Allingham was hard to find once his book appeared in October 1954. The only apparent report of him making a public appearance came from Hugh Downing, former Air Chief Marshall of the Royal Air Force. He wrote that Allingham spoke to “our local Flying Saucer Club” in January 1955. The club members “were all strongly impressed that he was telling the truth about his actual experiences, although we felt that he might have been mistaken in some of the conclusions which he drew.”

“Cedric Allingham”

Allingham’s publisher first explained his unavailability by saying he was on a U.S. tour. Later it announced Allingham had tuberculosis and was in a Swiss sanitarium. In 1956, the publisher announced Allingham had died.

Although skepticism always surrounded his story, it took 30 years after Allingham’s reported death to debunk it. The July 1986 issue of Magonia magazine, which had its origins in the Merseyside UFO Research Group, carried an investigation by Christopher Allan and Steuart [sic] Campbell. It revealed Allingham never existed. Instead, he was the creation of British amateur astronomer Patrick Moore and his friend, Peter Davies.

Davies admitted Flying Saucer from Mars was a prank attempting to capitalize on Adamski’s book’s popularity. Davies said someone he wouldn’t name wrote the book and he revised it. Moreover, Allingham’s photo on the book jacket was, in fact, Davies standing next to a telescope owned by Moore. Davies also admitted it was he who spoke to the UFO club.

Allan and Steuart used several methods to identify Moore as the author. A computer analysis of Moore’s writing style and Flying Saucer from Mars showed numerous similarities, although they acknowledged that Davies’s revisions prevented saying they were identical. They compared the Allingham photo with one in one of Moore’s astronomy books of a telescope in his garden. The telescope and garden background were identical. Also, they said, Moore said in a book that he met Allingham at the UFO club lecture. They assert Moore is the only person who claimed to know Allingham.

Moore never admitted involvement with Flying Saucer from Mars, perhaps because of his status. Although an amateur astronomer, he compiled a catalog of astronomical objects, and an asteroid was named for him. Moore was a fellow of the Royal Astronomical Society and president of the British Astronomical Association. He published more than 70 books on astronomy, many for the general public and children. Before his death in December 2012, Moore had a monthly astronomy program on BBC television for 55 years. He was knighted in 2001 for “services to the popularisation of science and to broadcasting.”

Yet, Moore was recognized as eccentric, was a critic of ufology, and unafraid of pranks. His first BBC television appearance came in a 1956 debate about the existence of UFOs. According to Allan and Steuart, Moore sent a hoax UFO sighting to his local newspaper and spoof letters to the newsletter of the Aetherius Society, a UFO religion. They also said he invented a rocket expert to comment on an alleged UFO landing in southwestern England in July 1963.

Regardless of Moore’s involvement, it’s clear no Allingham existed to communicate with a Martian. Given Flying Saucer from Mars sprung from Adamski’s book, it might also be considered an early component of what the Atlantic magazine would later describe as “the UFO-industrial complex.”


The reliable (UFO) cases are uninteresting and the interesting cases are unreliable. Unfortunately there are no cases that are both reliable and interesting.

Carl Sagan, Other Worlds

(Originally posted at Medium)

Weekend Edition: 4-24

Interesting Reading in the Interweb Tubez

  • Sadly, Hatred is Very Much American (“Americans don’t have to be ‘carefully taught'” to hate. Historically, it’s been inherent, one generation after another. The only change has been the target.”)

Blog Headlines of the Week

Nonbookish Linkage

  • Journalists accuse Minnesota law enforcement of harassment

Bookish Linkage

  • About 98 percent of the books publishers released last year sold fewer than 5,000 copies
  • Scammers are after British literary awards
  • Speaking of which, the International Booker Prize shortlist is out (I’ve read one of the six)

My religion is to do good.

Thomas Paine, The Rights of Man

Loco Lawsuits: You Made Me Go to Law School

Law school can be tough on a person. Just ask Georgia lawyer Jeffrey Duncan. In 2005, he sued another Georgia lawyer, Daniel Klein, for malpractice. Among other things, Duncan wanted damages for the cost and emotional distress of attending law school.

Duncan’s saga began in 1991 when he went to work for a subsidiary of a Japanese company. Duncan later felt the company treated its Japanese employees better than its American employees so, in 2001, he contacted Klein about filing a discrimination claim. In April 2001, Klein told him a treaty between the United States and Japan allowed the company to discriminate in favor of its Japanese employees so any claim against it would be “completely barred.”

Duncan’s job dissatisfaction grew so he applied to several law schools. He was admitted to Boston’s New England School of Law in July 2001 and resigned from his job as of August 2001. While attending law school, Duncan learned he might be able to file a claim against his former employer. He filed a discrimination lawsuit against the company in federal court in Maryland in late 2002. The case was settled in June 2004.

Duncan then sued Klein and Klein’s law firm for malpractice. Among other things, he alleged he resigned from his job only because of Klein’s advice and, as a result, “he had to go to law school.” Duncan wanted damages for attending law school, including the costs of school, the costs of refinancing his house, and the emotional distress he said he suffered because his family remained in George while he was in law school.

The trial court dismissed that part of the lawsuit. It reasoned that Duncan could have sought those damages in the lawsuit against his former employer. Because he didn’t, he couldn’t sue Klein for them. The Georgia Court of Appeals took a broader view. Even if Duncan’s decision to go to law school stemmed from Klein’s advice, “it is highly questionable whether attending law school is a legally cognizable injury, notwithstanding that the rigors of law school are well known and undoubtedly unpleasant to some extent.” Moreover, the court said, neither Klein nor his firm could foresee that Duncan would decide to go to law school “in a faraway place, leave his family behind, and refinance his home to cover the costs of law school and the expenses of his family in the meantime.”

Although claims relating to the delay in filing Duncan’s discrimination claim were sent back to the trial court, the decision makes clear no one forced him to go to law school. Still, thousands of lawyers likely believe the appeals court’s declaration that law school was unpleasant “to some extent” was a grievous understatement.


I learned law so well, the day I graduated I sued the college, won the case, and got my tuition back.

Fred Allen