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I almost put this under the fun stuff but unfortunatly it's not so funny considering it involves our safety.
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Hypnotized Chickens, Doing Whose Bidding?
By Linton Weeks
Washington Post Staff Writer
Monday, January 5, 2004; Page C01
Shoe bombs, lethal. Box cutters, treacherous. Dog-eared copies of "How to Make a Bomb," definitely deadly.
But almanacs?
When we heard that the FBI had spread the word among law enforcement agencies recently that "terrorist operatives may rely on almanacs to assist with target selection and pre-operational planning," we were puzzled.
So was Judson D. Hale Sr., publisher of the New Hampshire-based Old Farmer's Almanac, which has been published annually since 1792.
"We don't cover the things terrorists are usually interested in -- the infrastructure of bridges and cities and plans," Hale says. "We're a lifestyle periodical." The publication addresses everything from farming tips to weather forecasts to astronomy. Nearly 80 percent of the almanac's readers are gardeners.
"My first reaction was surprise," says Hale, 70. "What do they think is in the almanac that would help terrorists?"
Great question.
Looking for answers, we hurried down the street to nab our own copy of the distinctive pale-yellow paperback. We couldn't help but notice that folks near Dupont Circle looked at us a little differently, with the almanac tucked under our arm.
In a dimly lit, quiet spot, we began to thumb through the 288 pages. What could be considered threatening?
Wait a minute -- here's a piece of information that might be used to undermine our way of life: "Beer is good for you," the almanac says. "The silicon in it is good for bone density."
This next snippet from the "To Your Health" section just might give somebody a bright idea: "Spa dentistry," the almanac says, "is the wave of the future. Think aromatherapy; foot, neck, and hand massage; a vibrating chair; movies . . . access to the Web on a screen wired to the ceiling; concierge services; and, oh yeah, clean teeth." That is horrifying.
"Watch for a heightened focus on chromotherapy," the almanac suggests, "or how color choices affect our emotions." We don't know about you, but we're finding orange a little unnerving.
There are calendar pages for each month. We turn to January and learn that Mozart was born on the 27th in 1756 and Michael Jackson's mane caught on fire exactly 228 years later. Hair-razing, but harmless info. Nearly all of the information found in the book -- and many other types of almanacs -- can be also be found on the Internet along with instructions on how to make a bomb.
Maybe certain products advertised in the almanac could be dangerous: Neutrolux for thinning hair? Dr. John's Special Ear Drops for the ringing in your ears? One page labeled "Bio-Terrorism?" is really an ad for "medical grade equipment" that purifies water.
Hmm, what's this? "Nudist tourism is at an all-time high." We won't even go there.
We turn back to Jud Hale for guidance. "We have a little article in there about how to hypnotize chickens," he says. He's wondered if maybe the terrorists "want to learn how to hypnotize every chicken and cripple the whole U.S. poultry industry."
Seriously, he can't figure out the warning. Neither can we.
There is a historical precedent, however. In 1942 the U.S. government was concerned that the Germans were planning operations based on the almanac's weather forecasts. The government declared that no one -- but the government -- was allowed to predict the weather, and the Old Farmer's Almanac was banned for a few weeks, Hale says.
He believes that the Germans were using the almanac's tide charts. A German agent had landed on Long Island from a U-boat. When he was apprehended by the FBI on a train going into Penn Station and charged with spying, officials found that he was carrying an Old Farmer's Almanac.
Whenever then-publisher Robb Sagendorph, who had a dry sense of humor, mentioned this incident, Hale says he would note: "Maybe the Germans did use our almanac to see what the weather was like over here."
Then Sagendorph would pause. "After all, they did go on to lose the war."
web page
Hypnotized Chickens, Doing Whose Bidding?
By Linton Weeks
Washington Post Staff Writer
Monday, January 5, 2004; Page C01
Shoe bombs, lethal. Box cutters, treacherous. Dog-eared copies of "How to Make a Bomb," definitely deadly.
But almanacs?
When we heard that the FBI had spread the word among law enforcement agencies recently that "terrorist operatives may rely on almanacs to assist with target selection and pre-operational planning," we were puzzled.
So was Judson D. Hale Sr., publisher of the New Hampshire-based Old Farmer's Almanac, which has been published annually since 1792.
"We don't cover the things terrorists are usually interested in -- the infrastructure of bridges and cities and plans," Hale says. "We're a lifestyle periodical." The publication addresses everything from farming tips to weather forecasts to astronomy. Nearly 80 percent of the almanac's readers are gardeners.
"My first reaction was surprise," says Hale, 70. "What do they think is in the almanac that would help terrorists?"
Great question.
Looking for answers, we hurried down the street to nab our own copy of the distinctive pale-yellow paperback. We couldn't help but notice that folks near Dupont Circle looked at us a little differently, with the almanac tucked under our arm.
In a dimly lit, quiet spot, we began to thumb through the 288 pages. What could be considered threatening?
Wait a minute -- here's a piece of information that might be used to undermine our way of life: "Beer is good for you," the almanac says. "The silicon in it is good for bone density."
This next snippet from the "To Your Health" section just might give somebody a bright idea: "Spa dentistry," the almanac says, "is the wave of the future. Think aromatherapy; foot, neck, and hand massage; a vibrating chair; movies . . . access to the Web on a screen wired to the ceiling; concierge services; and, oh yeah, clean teeth." That is horrifying.
"Watch for a heightened focus on chromotherapy," the almanac suggests, "or how color choices affect our emotions." We don't know about you, but we're finding orange a little unnerving.
There are calendar pages for each month. We turn to January and learn that Mozart was born on the 27th in 1756 and Michael Jackson's mane caught on fire exactly 228 years later. Hair-razing, but harmless info. Nearly all of the information found in the book -- and many other types of almanacs -- can be also be found on the Internet along with instructions on how to make a bomb.
Maybe certain products advertised in the almanac could be dangerous: Neutrolux for thinning hair? Dr. John's Special Ear Drops for the ringing in your ears? One page labeled "Bio-Terrorism?" is really an ad for "medical grade equipment" that purifies water.
Hmm, what's this? "Nudist tourism is at an all-time high." We won't even go there.
We turn back to Jud Hale for guidance. "We have a little article in there about how to hypnotize chickens," he says. He's wondered if maybe the terrorists "want to learn how to hypnotize every chicken and cripple the whole U.S. poultry industry."
Seriously, he can't figure out the warning. Neither can we.
There is a historical precedent, however. In 1942 the U.S. government was concerned that the Germans were planning operations based on the almanac's weather forecasts. The government declared that no one -- but the government -- was allowed to predict the weather, and the Old Farmer's Almanac was banned for a few weeks, Hale says.
He believes that the Germans were using the almanac's tide charts. A German agent had landed on Long Island from a U-boat. When he was apprehended by the FBI on a train going into Penn Station and charged with spying, officials found that he was carrying an Old Farmer's Almanac.
Whenever then-publisher Robb Sagendorph, who had a dry sense of humor, mentioned this incident, Hale says he would note: "Maybe the Germans did use our almanac to see what the weather was like over here."
Then Sagendorph would pause. "After all, they did go on to lose the war."
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