I wasn't kidding about Bangladesh.

The great quandry for our times: everybody loves trivia, but no-one likes a know-it-all. Is it the competitive edge? Is knowing trivia not as important as knowing more trivia than everyone else? Or is it that we hate those people who just aren't content to let someone say something without trying to best it?

Either way, it's not an attractive portrait of the human spirit. Fortunately, there aren't many in the Greenhouse who fit those descriptions. Even better, there's one person in particular who is a genuine trivia savant. In fact, I think that might be his job description. I don't know what his job is, actually, but I get the impression that I'm not supposed to. So, "Savant" fits him just as well as anything. Regardless, it's always both intimidating and enlightening when he stops by the office; you can always be sure that you'll have learned something from his visit, but you can't help but wonder where he gets his information.

Last week, the Savant dropped by again, this time with a handful of quarters. He handed one to me, and asked if I could tell what was different about it. It didn't seem familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Smiling, he took the quarter back.

"You see, 1968 was the last year that the Canadian mint made quarters out of silver," he explained, bouncing the quarter off the desk to demonstrate the different sound it made. "That year, the value of the silver in the quarter became greater than twenty-five cents."

"Oh! Like the Bangladesh razor blade black market!"

"The what?", asked my co-worker, MJ.

"It's fascinating, really," I answered. "Since razor blades are so thin, you can make six of them from the metal in an Indian one-rupee coin. Each razor blade sells for six rupees, and they're both exportable and disposable. So, you have a situation where Indian currency is being smuggled across the border and destroyed at an amazing rate, resulting in a bizarre shortage in India. They've been paying with toffees, cigarettes, and I.O.U. slips. On the other hand, some people are actually making a profit selling currency." I turned back to the Savant. "It's exactly the market chaos that the Canadian mint avoided in 1969!"

And without a word, the Savant took his quarter back, and left the office. Stunned, I turned to MJ. "I didn't do anything wrong there, did I? I accepted his opening statement, introduced new information, and connected it to his analysis. That's the art of conversation, isn't it?"

"Hey, I was right there with you -- you're in the clear." MJ confirmed.

"Hm."

I should stress that our Savant wasn't being rude in any way, merely idiosyncratic, and that's hardly a condemnation at work (or this blog, for that matter). I'm not offended -- as a matter of fact, I'm delighted. For once, I was able return trivia for trivia, rather than just sit back and take notes.

In my book, that's a good day at the office.

Useless trivia!

Ah, the gardening business is good. Unfortunately, that means it's time for me to suddenly change topics. Ready? Here we go!

1. Back in the days of the Roman Empire, Celtic was fairly widespread throughout Europe, and there were two dialects: "P" Celtic and "Q" Celtic. These were recognised by their native speakers as being distinct languages, but an outside observer would be hard pressed to tell the difference. The Romans referred to one of those peoples as "Germanus", which translates loosely to "out and out" Celts. In other words, "those people who are obviously Celts, except that they seem to think they're different from those other Celts we've seen. Even though they're obviously Celts. Go figure. Anyway, Hail Caesar!"

And that's why they prefer to refer to their country "Deutschland".

2. Here's one for those who know the pain of ISO 17025: Up until 1699, even though the mile was the standard unit of distance in Sweden, the actual length of a mile would vary widely, based on what part of Sweden you were in.

If "Seinfeld" took place in 17th century Sweden, one episode would have had Kramer and Jörge taking their horse to an abandoned racetrack in a far-off province, because its smaller mile would let them claim the equine speed record.

You know, the idea of a Swedish 17th century "Seinfeld" sounds much more appealing than it has any right to be.

3. My new favourite insect is the leaf-rolling caterpillar. In order to misdirect wasps, its larvae has a ring of blood vessels around its anus, and a hinged plate on top. When it defecates, it builds up pressure before releasing the hinge, allowing it to propel its waste up to two feet away!

And you thought projectile vomiting was bad.

4. Actually, I do have one bit of news from the greenhouse: After playing with the new camera, we decided to take a group photo. I'm the third from the right, with the cold nose and the hot chest.



Imposing, aren't we? Kind of like the Rainbow Brite version of Reservoir Dogs.