This classic Damn Interesting article originally appeared on 12 November 2007.

"Holy shit."

Inside the cockpit of the cruising airliner, Captain Bob Pearson was understandably alarmed at the out-of-the-ordinary beeps that were chiming from his flight computer. On the control panel, an amber low fuel pressure warning lamp lit up to punctuate the audio alarm.

First Officer Maurice Quintal, copilot of Air Canada Flight 143, checked the indicator light to determine the cause of the computer's complaints. "Something's wrong with the fuel pump," he reported.

The mustachioed Captain Pearson pulled out the trusty Boeing handbook, his fingers dashing through the pages to find the specifics of the warning. To his relief, the troubleshooting chart indicated that the situation was not as perilous as it might seem: the fuel pump in the left wing tank was signaling a problem, a minor issue considering that gravity would continue to feed the engines even if the pump failed.

"You know," he commented to Copilot Quintal, "I would not take this air…" He trailed off as the computer blurted out another four beeps, and the indicator panel lit up like a Christmas tree decorated with bad news. "Oh fuck," Pearson lamented, "we've got to go to Winnipeg."

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Our final exam was to create a music video.

I decided to pay tribute to the best song ever made.

The song actually goes on for another 76 seconds, but not many people's patience does. A fade out will do.

This is a classic Damn Interesting article which originally appeared on 14 May 2007.

On 16 September 1920, throngs of brokers, clerks, and office workers poured from the buildings lining New York City's Wall Street as a nearby church bell struck twelve o'clock. The narrow cobblestone street became a river of sputtering automobiles and scurrying pedestrians as the financial district employees set out to make the most of their mid-day break.

Traveling opposite the egressing crowds, an elderly bay horse plodded along Wall Street pulling a nondescript wagon and a driver. The cart came to a stop just around the corner from the New York Stock Exchange (NYSE), across the street from the imposing JP Morgan & Co. bank building. The wagon's driver cast the reins aside, leaped from his perch, and fled from the street with conspicuous haste. As the lunch-going men and women shuffled past the parked wooden cart and its patiently waiting horse, a timer within the cargo compartment quietly counted off its final few seconds.

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The assignment was to create a theatrical trailer.

Mine was a spoof to Ocean's 11.

This one could've used another day of editing...but there was a lot of shooting to do.

After spending every morning of school walking half a mile from the parking lot to the Band Hall...I slowly became inspired to create this:

This was shown at the Band Banquet at the end of the year.

This has to be one of the funniest things I have read in a really long time…

How To Be A Gangsta (In 5 Simple Steps)
by TW from everything2.com

1. You have to master the swagger of your typical homie. Watch MTV for inspiration, then imitate the ridiculous walk of your favourite rap star.If you find yourself having difficulties, visualize yourself with a massive case of hemmorhoids, and/or a pickle shoved up your ass. A big pickle.

Checklist:

• Are your feet wider apart than your shoulders?
• Do you have a decided backwards slant to your torso?
• Do your knuckles hit the back of your calves?

If so, you can continue.

2. Language is very important. When attempting to fit in with the rap community, you must forget everything you have learned about the English language and how to speak it properly. It helps if you have some sort of speech impediment, preferably one which makes you sound like you have a mouth full of oatmeal at any given point. Remember, contractions are your new god. Practice at home, at the bus station, at school; anywhere you can.

Translation guide:

• yo’ma’ma = A derogatory term, used to insult your mother. (Note: this is supposed to incense you.)
• word, y’all = Something roughly equivalent to hello.

Variations on this are many: what’up ho’mes; word to yo’ma’ma; yo y’all (pl. y’allz); what’up; what’da word from’da ‘hood; and others.

• you best be steppin’ = You should leave, before the speaker decides to hurt you.
• I’m a gon’open a can of whoop’ass on y’all = I will beat you up.
• watch’or mouf, man = It would probably be a wise idea, when this is heard, to shut up.
• mofo = Motherfucker, in the new hip short talk.
• I gots ta bounce = Roughly equivalent to goodbye.
• cruisin’ = walking about aimlessly, shoving each other into old people and laughing uproariously, whilst calling each other mofos.

Checklist:

• Do you use four-letter words within 30 seconds of each other?
• Can you drop a syllable off of every word without thinking about it?
• Can you omit words such as “of” and “to” with ease?
• Would you be unintelligible to your aunts or uncles?

If not, you’d better practice a little more.

3. You’ll have to acquire a g’ name. 2-Pac is a popular one, as is Biggie. (For more information, see “people” section below.) Or, there’s always shortening your name to the first letter of your first name, then adding an adjective. For example, there’s Lil’ J, or Big R. You can also go with just the adjective: Slim, Shorty, etc. You’ll fit right in.

Checklist:

• Does your name sound stupid?

Well, since this is the only evident requirement, on we go.

4.You’ll need to be hip to the rap gurus of the moment. A commonly idolized rapper, 2-Pac, was shot some time ago. In the “softcore” rap crowd, Ma$e and Puff Daddy are really cool. Busta Rhymes, Lil’ Kim, Biggie Smalls (also dead), Snoop Doggy Dogg and Dr. Dre are also cult favourites. Feel free to mix ‘n’ match at will. With the celebrities, come the “sides”. There’s Westside and Eastside. They have nothing to do with where you are on a map. To demonstrate your undying allegiance to the Westside, cross the two middle fingers on one hand, and wave that hand about profusely, whilst shouting “Wess’ide, man..Wess’ide!” This will go over big. The Eastside sign is formed by turning the previously-made W upside down, in the shape of an M. One will shout “Yo’mofos! Eass’ide rules!” or something of that ilk. Make sure, before you attempt the hand signs, that you’re with a group of the same patriotism, or else you’ll get a can of whoop’ass opened on you. Y’all, rather.

Checklist:

• Can you name the past five rap stars to have gotten shot?
• Can you wave your hands about with sufficient fury to give yourself carpal tunnel syndrome?
• Are you scared of your own idiocy?

Let’s hope so. These are crucial before moving on to the last section.

5. G’ clothing is rather simple. For pants, all you need to do is cruise the local mall until you find a really fat person. Check out the waist size on his jeans, then head to the nearest store playing rap music to buy a matching pair. They must also be long. You’ll know you’ve made a good buy when you have three yards of fabric bunched about your ankles. You must wear them low-slung as well. The prerequisite, an assumed few pairs of cool boxer shorts, should be mostly hanging out. But to complete your lower half, you must own a stylin’ belt. The purpose of this belt is not altogether clear, save for it holds your pants firmly against your upper thighs and restricts movement, making the rap strut easier. Trust me. As for what kind of pants to wear, army pants (in any, and all, colours), jeans, tearaways and cargo pants will all do nicely.

On your top half, you should wear shirts which would fit the fat man at the mall. At the same store where you bought your pants, you will find the bright colours that are a necessity to successful gangsta dress. Oranges, yellows, and greens are especially good. T-shirts are acceptable, provided they have sleeves that reach halfway down your forearm, and that they come at least halfway down your thigh. Sweatshirts should be almost as long, and have either Nike or Fubu emblazoned across the front. Never, EVER get caught dead in a sweater. Jackets are easy. All you need is something that’s shiny, bright, and looks like it would fit a 300-pound Eskimo, as well as be suitable for said Eskimo’s environmental surroundings.

For shoes, again, Nikes and Fubus are the best. Reeboks and Adidases are fine for the beginning g’. They have to have cost at least $150, and be shiny and bright. You might as well forget how to tie knots, because the gangsta who ties his shoes up, gets beat up. You can accessorize with one of those key chain straps (the ones that circle your neck) that seem to be all the rage. It must say Fubu on it, of course. A hat is good, as long as it’s got one of the previously-mentioned trade names on it. Turn the hat sideways for extra respect. That’s spelled R-E-S-P-E-C-T. You can always go with a handkerchief as well, with the hat or alone. Snoop Doggy Dogg wears one, if you need celebrity reinforcement.

Checklist:

• Could you put on 200+ pounds and not have it be noticed while dressed?
• Could you fit your entire family into one single pantleg?
• When you walk, are you perpetually close to tripping/falling over?
• Is your shirt long enough to cover someone seven feet tall?

It appears, with the above questions answered affirmatively, that you’ve completed the tutorial and are now a fledgeling gangsta, prepared for the wide world of rap. Happy g’ing!

wait… you need 1 more thang… a pet, a mean looking one. A pit bull is normally a great choice.

As the manuscript-delivery deadline approaches for our Damn Interesting book, we must take drastic action to avoid being sucked into a temporal vortex of magnificent and frightful proportions. Consequently, we hope you won't mind a handful of re-runs while we enter phase three of the book-writing process: Irrational Bargaining.

We'll try to keep you abreast of our progress as we segue into Guilt, absquatulate into Anger, and deviate into Depression. We anticipate arriving at the final phase– Acceptance– vibrating with caffeine and emotional compression.

On an unrelated note, our site's new-and-improved platform is nearing completion, and in about 8 weeks we hope to begin private Beta testing. We'll need people to help us do some load testing (lots of people at the same time) as well as compatibility testing (making sure the new site works everywhere, including weird mobile browsers and stuff). If you are willing to help us test when that time comes, please follow this link.

Superthanks!

Sign up for Beta Testing

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This classic Damn Interesting article was originally published on 27 November 2006.

In scores of science fiction stories, hapless adventurers find themselves unwittingly introduced to the vacuum of space without proper protection. There is often an alarming cacophony of screams and gasps as the increasingly bloated humans writhe and spasm. Their exposed veins and eyeballs soon bulge in what is clearly a disagreeable manner. The ill-fated adventurers rapidly swell like over-inflated balloons, ultimately bursting in a gruesome spray of blood.

As is true with many subjects, this representation in popular culture does not reflect the reality of exposure to outer space. Ever since humanity first began to probe outside of our protective atmosphere, a number of live organisms have been exposed to vacuum, both deliberately and otherwise. By combining these experiences with our knowledge of outer space, scientists have a pretty clear idea of what would happen if an unprotected human slipped into the cold, airless void.

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On 08 April 2006, we published this article. Due to some kind of violation of the space-time continuum, it has appeared again on our front page instead of the shiny new article we had hoped for. Imagine our surprise!

For thousands of years, the forceful removal of the human head has been used as a form of capital punishment. In fact, the word "capital" in the context of punishment was coined to describe execution by decapitation, derived from the Latin word caput, which means "head." Since the very beginnings of the practice, there has been much speculation and debate regarding the length of time that the head can remain conscious after its removal. Many argue that a beheaded person will almost instantly lose consciousness due to a massive drop in blood pressure in the brain, and/or the heavy impact of the decapitation device. But there are countless eyewitness reports in history describing a few moments of apparent awareness in the victim.

Beheading has been discontinued as a form of execution in much of the world due to the suspicion that a severed head remains conscious and able to experience pain, so there have been no recent scientific observations of human decapitation. However studies of decapitated animals has lent some credibility to the massive number of stories regarding a head's brief consciousness after being separated from the body. Under certain circumstances, it is very possible that a head so removed may remain lucid long enough to know its fate.

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