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Iceland is known to the rest of the world as the land of Vikings and volcanos, an island caught between continents at the extremities of the map. Remote and comparatively inhospitable, it was settled only as long ago as the 9th century, and has seen little additional in-migration since. Even today, more than 90 percent of Iceland’s 390,000 residents can trace their ancestry back to the earliest permanent inhabitants, a Nordic-Celtic mix. The tradition of the Norse sagas lives on in the form of careful record-keeping about ancestry—and a national passion for genealogy. In other words, it is not the place to stumble upon old family mysteries. But growing up in the capital city of Reykjavík in the 1950s, neurologist Dr. Kári Stefánsson heard stories that left him curious. Stefánsson’s father had come from Djúpivogur, an eastern coastal town where everyone still spoke of a Black man who had moved there early in the 19th century. “Hans Jónatan”, they called him—a well-liked shopkeeper who had arrived on a ship, married a spirited woman from a local farm, and became a revered member of the community. The local census did record a man by the name of Hans Jónatan, born in the Caribbean, who was working at the general store in Djúpivogur in the 19th century—but that was all. No images of the man had survived, and his time in Iceland was well before any other humans with African ancestry are known to have visited the island. If tiny, remote Djúpivogur did have a Black man arrive in the 19th century, the circumstances must have been unusual indeed. It was an intriguing puzzle—and solid grounds for a scientific investigation. Given the amount of homogeneity in the baseline Icelandic population, the genetic signature of one relative newcomer with distinct ancestry might still stand out across a large sample of his descendants. Geneticists thus joined locals and history scholars, and they pieced together a story that bridged three continents. Continue reading ▶
We’re not going to post things on Twitter X anymore. The new owner keeps doing awful stuff. If you have enjoyed our mostly-daily curated links via the aforementioned collapsing service, we invite you to bookmark our curated links page, or follow us a number of other ways. Rather than linger any longer on this tedious topic, here are some home-grown dad jokes. If there is any order in this universe, the comments section will fill with more of the same. Q: What is the flavor of a chair? Do you even know the meaning of the word ‘rhetorical?’ Don’t answer that! My friend bought an alarm clock that makes loud farting sounds in the morning. He’s in for a rude awakening. You’re right, these ARE my orthopedic shoes. I stand corrected. I want a good game of hide and seek, but skilled players are hard to find. Like tight sweaters, corporate acquisitions are hard to pull off. I was offered a job at the mirror factory. I could see myself working there. Did you hear about the farmer in Colorado raising cannabis-fed cattle? The steaks are high. Q: What is the best stocking stuffer? I used to be addicted to soap, but I’ve gotten clean. I finally worked up the courage to tell my hot female coworker how I felt. She felt the same. So we turned down the thermostat. The universal remote: This changes everything. Q: How fast are donkey trucks? It smells like death in there, and not in a good way. My dad demanded that I go fetch some water from that deep hole in the ground. He means well. Calendar makers: Your days are numbered. A: I enjoy cooking with ghee, but I don’t buy it, I make my own. I will not rest until I find a cure for my insomnia. I bought my wife a new refrigerator. I can’t wait to see her face light up when she opens it. Did you hear about the hilarious thing that happened at the mandatory meeting? I guess you had to be there. Remember that sweet grandmother on Twitter who thought that ‘lol’ meant ‘lots of love’? “Sorry to hear about your uncle passing. lol.” Yesterday, we were standing at the edge of a cliff. Since then we have taken a huge step forward. We had to cancel the big game of tag because somebody got hurt. It was touch and go there for a while. “Of course you can count on me,” said the abacus. IBS is genetic, you know. Runs in the family. My grandfather once told me, “It’s worth investing in good speakers.” That was some sound advice. Extreme camping is in tents. The solar panel company wouldn’t let me pay for the installation. They said it was all on the house. I was chopping herbs all day, and now my hands are quite fragrant. I’ve got too much thyme on my hands. A weather balloon measures about 4 feet in diameter (adjusting for inflation). A: Have you ever had a flatulence-based tea? Like a German dietitian, I tend to see the wurst in people. I don’t care for rulers. That’s where I draw the line. Why did the farmer propose to his horse? He wanted a stable relationship. I still think whiteboards are one of mankind’s most remarkable inventions. The Earth has successfully rotated around its axis. Let’s call it a day. My daughter dropped a brand new tube of toothpaste and it made a big mess. She was crestfallen. You’ve got to hand it to customs agents: Your passport. My friend tried to steal a box of lipstick for us, but she accidentally grabbed a box of glue sticks. My lips are sealed. Elevators: They take things to a whole other level. A friend gave me an expired pack of batteries. They were free of charge. Comedy: To taste a bit like a comet. A: How many times do I have to apologize? My wife said that the battery in my hearing aid needed to be replaced. That was difficult to hear. I asked the ski lift operator if I could get a free ride to the top of the mountain. He didn’t take me up on it. What makes a sentence a tongue twister? It’s hard to say. If you visit Mexico, remember to use the word “mucho.” It means a lot to them. There are more hydrogen atoms in a single molecule of water than there are stars in the solar system. To whoever discovered the number zero: Thanks for nothing. View this post ▶
In the late 17th century, natural philosopher Isaac Newton was deeply uneasy with a new scientific theory that was gaining currency in Europe: universal gravitation. In correspondence with a scientific contemporary, Newton complained that it was “an absurdity” to suppose that “one body may act upon another at a distance through a vacuum.” The scientist who proposed this preposterous theory was Isaac Newton. He first articulated the idea in his widely acclaimed magnum opus Principia, wherein he explained, “I have not yet been able to discover the cause of these properties of gravity from phenomena and I feign no hypotheses […] It is enough that gravity does really exist and acts according to the laws I have explained.” Newton proposed that celestial bodies were not the sole sources of gravity in the universe, rather all matter attracts all other matter with a force that corresponds to mass and diminishes rapidly with distance. He had been studying the motions of the six known planets–Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, and Uranus–and by expanding upon the laws of planetary motion developed by Johannes Kepler about eight decades earlier, he arrived at an equation for gravitational force F that seemed to match decades of data: Where m1 and m2 are the masses of the objects, r is the distance between their centers of mass, and G is the gravitational constant (~0.0000000000667408). But this is only an approximation; humanity may never know the precise value because it is impossible to isolate any measuring apparatus from all of the gravity in the universe. Fellow astronomers found that Newton’s theory seemed to be accurate–universal gravitation appeared to reliably forecast the sometimes irregular motion of the planets even more closely than Kepler’s laws. In 1705, Queen Anne knighted Isaac Newton to make him Sir Isaac Newton (though this honor was due to his work in politics, not for his considerable contributions to math or science). In the century that followed, Newton’s universal gravitation performed flawlessly. Celestial bodies appeared to adhere to the elegant theory, and in scientific circles, it began to crystallize into a law of nature. But in the early 19th century, cracks began to appear. When astronomer Alexis Bouvard used Newton’s equations to carefully calculate future positions of Jupiter and Saturn, they proved spectacularly accurate. However, when he followed up in 1821 with astronomical tables for Uranus–the outermost known planet–subsequent observations revealed that the planet was crossing the sky substantially slower than projected. The fault was not in Bouvard’s math; Uranus appeared to be violating the law of universal gravitation. Newton’s theory was again called into question in 1843 by a 32-year-old assistant astronomer at the Paris Observatory, Urbain Le Verrier. Le Verrier had been following the Uranus perturbations with great interest, while also compiling a painstaking record of the orbit of Mercury–the innermost known planet. He found that Mercury also departed from projections made by universal gravitation. Was universal gravitation a flawed theory? Or might undiscovered planets lurk in extra-Uranian and intra-Mercurial space, disturbing the orbits of the known planets? Astronomers around the world scoured the skies, seeking out whatever was perturbing the solar system. The answer, it turned out, was more bizarre than they could have supposed. Continue reading ▶
An American Indian man on horseback stood outlined against a steely sky past midday on 05 October 1877. Winter was already settling into the prairies of what would soon become the state of Montana. Five white men stood in the swaying grass on the other side of the field, watching the horse move closer. Four wore blue uniforms, another in civilian attire. One of the uniformed men was tall and stout, with bright blue eyes and a large, curling mustache. He watched the proceedings with an air of self-importance. The surrender of the man on horseback might have been inevitable, sure, but it was nevertheless a nice feather in his cap. Perhaps his superiors would finally grant him that promotion after this whole affair was over. The other four men were more apprehensive. All of them were experienced in fighting American Indians on the frontier, but this opponent had been different. One man, with a full, dark beard and right arm missing below the elbow, looked at the approaching chief with grudging respect. The man had lost his arm in the American Civil War 15 years earlier, so he knew battle well. And in his opinion, the man across the field was a tactical genius, a “Red Napoleon.” Despite overwhelming odds, this Red Napoleon had wormed his way out of battle after battle, somehow always coming out on top. Continue reading ▶
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The person who holds the world record for basketball free throws shot over 2,000 consecutive baskets in a row. But if you put them in a stadium and a tight score between the teams, they might not have been able to shoot two. The main difference between playing basketball in a rec league and playing […] The post Professionalism and pressure appeared first on Herbert Lui.
Some of the places I've been since my broadband disappeared a week ago BestMate's sofa: 45 minutes of proper broadband and I managed to catch up on all sorts of things, including adding the photos and links to Unblogged March which was previously bereft. Bank: I'm always amazed how often the all-encompassing adverts up the Waterloo & City line travelator get changed. At the moment the company desperately trying to get noticed is called beazley (lower case), who do underwriting or something, and I guess if just one corporate bigwig notices and switches their company's services it's all worth it. Bromley-by-Bow: I mentioned last month that the tube station's glass frontage has been seriously damaged for over two years and never been repaired. Now someone's climbed up and graffitied it with red, black and white paint and it looks hugely worse. Get a grip. Burnt Oak: A plaque commemorating "a century of service" has been unveiled in the station ticket hall, five months after the actual centenary. I was unimpressed enough not to bother taking a photo (Ian has one). East Dulwich: I was also here. Feltham: Something that's never happened to me before - the 235 bus was so full that the driver checked its weight on her dashboard and announced there was only leeway for one more person on board. Three Eastern European workmen kindly allowed me to take the last space. Grove Park: I spotted a van putting Superloop roundels on shelters along new route SL4. Half are at stops where you can't catch a special bus because the express section is all behind you. Absolute waste of money. Harrow-on-the-Hill: That's the educational outpost up Grove Hill, not the station. It's really quiet up here when Harrow School's not in session. It turns out they broke up for Easter last Saturday at 11am, a week before most schools, because the more you pay for an education the fewer weeks you get. Heathrow T4: I hadn't ridden a purple train to Heathrow before, mainly because of the cost, but can confirm that the usual £12.80 fare really is zero with a 60+ card. Honeypot Lane: I was also here. Kenley: As promised I went back and added the post I would have written on Sunday had my broadband not vanished. It's about bus route changes, to save some of you from looking. Keston Mark: The traffic lights at this busy crossroads weren't working because they'd been smashed. Peculiarly two of the four poles were bent over at right angles so it couldn't possibly have been a single accident, more likely a deliberate act of vandalism by some self-entitled vigilante who hates cameras. London Loop section 22: I took BestMate to Upminster Bridge and re-walked part of the London Loop (one of the shortest sections, I'd thought, but on closer inspection merely lower quartile). The weather was glorious if windy, and the recent drought meant the "can be muddy here" sections were reassuringly solid underfoot. We met two very nonplussed goats, disturbed a woodpecker, wondered what the crop in the field was, identified the planes stacking over Redbridge, spotted several butterflies, attempted to identify the source of some dung, crossed the Ingrebourne, admired much magnolia, noted with sadness the replacement lampposts, wondered what neighbourly feud had inspired a massive hedge, debated what would become of the tumbledown farm outbuildings, compared the constituent heights of 24-year-old woodland, passed a wooden grasshopper, Instagrammed a pylon, wondered how frogs spawn in a dried-up pond, dissed a statue of King Harold and admired the Parcels entrance to Harold Wood station. It's not the thrillingest bit of Loop but it was much better than I remembered. Marylebone: The staff in the information kiosk wear swooshy capes with 'Bicester Village' on the back, which to the target audience probably looks endearingly Harry-Potter-ish but I suspect the average Brit just giggles. Oval: I was walking around some bikes outside the station when I suddenly tripped, hard, onto the pavement and fuxbolx that hurt! I had to pick my glasses out of the road. Several kind people asked if I was OK and I said I was, then limped to a nearby wall and sat there for five minutes while I undazed. The bruises were impressive. The blood has not yet washed out. I require neither your sympathy nor your medical opinion, thanks, nor am I counting it as my first Senior Moment. But it was a visceral reminder that one day my body won't be capable of standing after a fall like that, so just be careful OK? Putney Bridge/Mortlake: I did this journey by train and bus, I wasn't rowing. South Norwood: I was also here. Sudbury Hill Harrow: The cheapskates at Chiltern Railway have removed all their timetable posters "as part of a commitment towards a more sustainable railway". Instead they've printed a poster directing passengers to their "digital timetable page", henceforth and forever, which is fine if you've got a functioning online connection but a fat lot of good if you turn up phoneless and want to know when the trains go. They do say "ticket office staff can print timetables on your behalf from most of our station booking offices" but what use is that at an unstaffed station like Sudbury Hill Harrow? This is one of London's very least used stations and now you can't even see when its infrequent service runs. The lack of a printed timetable poster isn't saving the planet, merely a minimal saving for shareholders and a self-inflicted inconvenience for passengers. Sundridge Park: I was also here. I'll be back.
This was a lesson one of my bosses shared with me: most people don’t improve consistently every quarter. Instead, progress ebbs and flows. Sometimes—maybe many times—you might feel like you’re going through a plateau. Many other people would quit. If you remain confident you’re heading in the right direction, then you need to stick with […] The post Progress ebbs and flows appeared first on Herbert Lui.
When the Silvertown Tunnel opens next week, one thing the Mayor will enthuse about is the new Superloop bus route running through it. People like the Superloop, they know it gets them places fast, so no doubt they'll be enthused too. But the new SL4 isn't going to be as super as people might think, nor as fast, because in this case SL might as well stand for Stopping Lots. the SL4 is about to do. eight times on the way to the tunnel. Every stop between Canary Wharf and the tunnel portal gets an SL4 tile, every single one. Then comes the big dive under the Thames, deliberately not stopping at North Greenwich because that would slow things down. And after climbing to the fringes of Blackheath it then stops at every single stop all the way to Grove Park, every single one. Nine stops, three mile gap, seventeen stops. Hardly Super. This is the last stop before the Silvertown tunnel heading north. It's at the Sun-in-the-Sands roundabout where Shooters Hill Road meets the A102 dual carriageway, two whole miles from the tunnel portal. It's not near any stations, nor an especially easy place to get to, nor somewhere you can reach North Greenwich quickly from. And yet this is the last place south of the river you can board or alight, the stopping pattern assuming that what you really want to do from here is go to Canary Wharf, not anywhere inbetween. It's just as non-stop on the northern side. The SL4 emerges by a snazzy new gyratory but there's nowhere to stop so it doesn't. City Hall is close by, also the Royal Docks, the Dangleway, Royal Victoria DLR and lots of flats, but no way to get on or off. Indeed although the SL4 emerges in Newham it doesn't stop anywhere in the borough so there's no easy way to make onward connections. Serving Newham is the 129's job, the other new bus through the Silvertown Tunnel, but at no point do the SL4 and 129 stop anywhere near each other so potential interchange doesn't work either. This is Orchard Place, a backwater road which ten years ago you'd only have visited if you were hiking to the cultural outpost of Trinity Buoy Wharf. It first gained a bus service in 2017 when hundreds of new flats started to be built at City Island, joined since by hundreds more at Goodluck Hope. Route D3 already terminates here four times an hour and is about to be joined by the SL4, in both directions, running twice as often. That's brilliant if you live here and want go to Canary Wharf, but less useful if you thought you were riding a fast bus and find yourself dawdling down here instead. 2022 consultation TfL asked whether respondents would prefer the new bus to take the most direct route or to go via Orchard Place to serve the Leamouth Peninsula. "Our preferred option is the direct route", TfL wrote. But the public disagreed, quite significantly... A total of 613 respondents answered with the majority, 58 per cent, preferring the route to go via Orchard Place. This is compared to 19 per cent who preferred the most direct routing, and the remaining 24 per cent of respondents who had no preference. ... hence the extra twiddle. My hunch is that the London City Island and Goodluck Hope Leaseholders’ and Residents’ Association strongly encouraged their leaseholders and residents to respond to the consultation, and this pile-on swung the results decisively in favour of Orchard Place. The LCIGHLRA didn't get everything their way. In their submission they also asked for a 'vital' extra stop at North Greenwich for the benefit of their residents, and also could the bus please go to Lewisham because Grove Park lacked useful amenities. But they did get TfL to gift them 250 extra Superloops per day, so you can curse them for the delay should you ever decide to take a ride. remarkably often - every eight minutes from 6am to 8pm - based on the untested proposition that thousands of people want to travel by bus to Canary Wharf from a thin sliver of southeast London. detail on why they chose this particular route. I summarised what they said in this post here, and basically it's because their planning models suggested this was the best way of maximising demand. If you want to mouth off and say "But I don't see why they didn't..." go read that first. My hunch is that the SL4 will be an insanely frequent white elephant of limited use, made worse by the lengthy gap in the middle. But it'll also be free to use for the first year which'll bump up its ridership no end, especially for local journeys in Lewisham where only a fool would board a 202 or 261 when they could board the SL4 for free. It will thus appear hugely successful, its ridership figures inherently meaningless, and the Mayor will clap his hands and say I told you it'd be brilliant. As with so many dubious projects it'll only look great to those who've never ridden it, the frankly baffling SL4, Stopping Lots.
