...and all the examples I found are delightful, ludicrous and worrying! (It's amazing how completely it hijacks our mind.)
I dare you to unsee the following examples.
1/
In 1994, Diana Duyser of Florida spotted...something in her grilled cheese sandwich (the "Holy Toast").
She immediately did what any of us would do: packed it in cotton wool & waited for eBay to be invented, so she could auction it to online casino Golden Palace for $28,000.
2/
If you’re wondering how it didn’t evolve into an entirely new lifeform during that 10-year wait, here’s some science about how a grilled cheese sandwich can last a decade without going moldy, via @Slate:
This is the first example of pareidolia that millions of kids encounter each year. (There's even a reddit page for this: reddit.com/r/Pareidolia/c…)
To me, this looks like mischief. There's *no way* the inventor didn't see this.
9/
Staying with mischief, it's easy to weaponise pareidolia and psychologically terrorize your loved ones by sticking googly eyes on everyday household appliances.
I know this because @everywhereist did it and then wrote about it:
Sometimes, to be fully incapable of not seeing something, you need a bit of prompting/"programming".
Take this old, dirty kitchen drawer that someone posted on reddit...
11/
If you're in any doubt:
"I found half of Freddy Mercury's face in some old, dirty kitchen drawer."
There. Perfectly never-unseeable.
12/
Pareidolia (the visual form of apophenia, our tendency to look for patterns in random information) is most pronounced with human faces - so it's where we're most in danger of being tricked. Or rather, tricking *ourselves*.
Case in point: Adele.
(No offence, Adele.)
13/
If that looks like a normal photo of Adele to you - please turn it upside-down.
Sorry if that made you jump. It's *alarming*, yes.
This is called the Thatcher illusion, first discovered at the Uni of York in 1980...
14/
...and so-named because the author used a doctored pic of Maggie Thatcher to illustrate his point.
It also works on other British ex-Prime Ministers.
Re. pareidolia: *anything* that looks even vaguely human will trick us into a can't-unsee state.
If I said this was a hummingbird - does it make it *look* like a hummingbird?
Of course not. It's rock-solid proof that the Wee Folk exist. Someone call National Enquirer NOW.
16/
In the 1950s, Canada rolled out new bank notes - and complaints started flooding in.
"YOU PUT THE DEVIL IN THE QUEEN'S HAIR!"
British politicians wrote scathing letters...
17/
eg. “The Devil’s face is so perfect that for the life of me I cannot think it is there other than by the fiendish design of the artist who is responsible for the drawing or the engraver who made the plate."
In 1996, an employee of a Nashville coffee shop found this - a cinnamon pastry shaped 'uncannily' like Mother Theresa.
World headlines followed, & a mention on Letterman.
Then, perhaps annoyed that everyone thought her nose looked like *that*, Mother Theresa complained...
19/
That Nashville coffee shop, Bongo Java, was owned by an ex-journo, Bob Bernstein. He soon spotted the marketing possibilities of the 'Nun Bun' (or 'Immaculate Confection').
The shop sold t-shirts & mugs. Trade was brisk...
Then the letter from Mother Theresa arrived.
20/
“My legal counsel...has written asking you to stop, and now I am personally asking you to stop.”
Negotiations ensued (according to her attorney, Mother Theresa actually found the whole thing hilarious) with a compromise reached only weeks before she died in September 1997.
21/
A final twist in this sticky swirl of a story:
Nine years later, the Immaculate Confection was stolen. You heard me. *The Nun Bun went on the run.*
Despite a $5,000 reward, it's never been recovered:
When Mother Theresa passed on her duties to her successor Sister Nirmala (who worried she couldn't fill her shoes), she responded "Don't worry about it, just have them bake something that looks like you, they'll love you."
For more on this weird visual bias of ours, plus a story about my boots when I worked as an archaeologist, *plus* a firm recommendation of @Alpkit's superb repair service, have a read of my @SubstackInc newsletter here:
Last week, I got seriously obsessed with what, at first glance, looks like a really daft question:
What does the Internet actually *look* like?
All the ways to answer this are fascinating and full of surprises. Here are some in a thread:
1/
Here is the simplest, most straightforward and wrongest answer.
It looks like the box in the corner of your room that you sit in front of every day, "enjoying" its contents.
Devoid of context, that's what my senses tell me. But obviously this is absurd. Let's move on.
2/
If "the Internet" is the signal, all that data flying around, then in a sense it looks like this.
99%+ all international data races along sea floors at around 16 mill. times the force of a home Internet connection, through cables roughly the width of a can of Coke.
This week, after a lifetime of unwavering loyalty to Metric, I dug in - & now my mind’s blown. Now I get why folk cling to Imperial.
(And also why Napoleon was taller than he’s given credit for.)
Get comfy. It’s a long one.
(1/)
First, let’s call Metric what it was: a sensible act of revolutionary rationalism.
Europe before the French Revolution was a pig's ear of measurement systems: at least 250,000 (!) in France alone. Every region of every country used something a bit different.
Carnage.
(2/)
This new system, first proposed in 1790, would rely on unchanging laws of Nature, the kind that everyone could agree upon.
Good plan, right?
Yes and no. First they had to measure Nature with late 18thC technology - and that proved *maddeningly* hard.
Thanks to the first volume of Michael Palin's diaries, I've just discovered the glory of one of the greatest travel pieces in British publishing history.
In early April 1977, The Guardian published a 7-page travel supplement on this "little-known" island nation:
(1/)
Great attention should be paid to the place names being used here.
Also that this is 1977, and web design wasn't a thing yet.
(2/)
The accompanying adverts were impressive - especially if you took the time to read them closely.
One thing a life in the UK poorly prepares you for: when Autumn turns to Winter in the Mediterranean, it generally does so with a BANG. Last night here in Corfu, a storm punched through, and I lost a table and nearly all my underwear.
(1/)
At 5am I wake. The house is vibrating like the god-emperor of all washing machines is on spin in the basement. Something smashes outside in a twinkly way. I peer through the curtains. Rain howls past my face. Then the balcony table flips past, hits the railing and explodes.
(2/)
It's closely followed by the metal laundry rack that currently has all my pants drying on it. It somersaults, then wedges between the wall and the railing, right on the brink. All my underwear is about to be scattered across Corfu and maybe mainland Greece. I must act.
(3/)