Holy Shit, Chloroform!

Despite being pretty much obsolete for its main intended use, chloroform maintains a solid foothold in our collective cultural awareness. And you know why. The trope of the chloroform-soaked rag has been so thoroughly woven into the fabric of crime fiction that it's the first thing we think of when we plan imagine a kidnapping.

What? There are perfectly legitimate reasons to wear a balaclava in late September.

In fact, it's such an integral trope that most of us will never even think about chloroform in any other context. Admit it, when you saw the title of this post you thought it was going to be all about kidnapping, didn't you? Well, you're not entirely wrong, but if you look closer at the history of chloroform, you'll find yourself in one of those situations where the rug gets pulled out from under you.

The problem with our kidnapping imagery is that chloroform doesn't work that way. Well it does, but not nearly that fast. You can rest easy with the knowledge that, were a criminal to approach you with a chloroform-soaked rag, he would have to hold it up to your face for five to ten solid minutes before you became unconscious.

Which means this scene is just starting to get awkward.

So where did the "Instant KO" myth come from? This guy:

Believe it or not, not a kidnapper.

That's Sir James Young Simpson, a Scottish obstetrician known for innovating new equipment and treatments to help advance the medical field. Simpson had a couple of colleagues over one day and decided to do a little experiment with some chloroform he happened to have. To make a long story short, the gathering ended up being a bit of a rager. His two human guinea pigs got first loopy, then giddy, then unconscious.

Simpson was thrilled with this discovery, and just three days later chloroform entered the medical scene as an anesthetic. His excitement at the relative speed with which his friends passed out led him to exaggerate a bit, which led the general public to believe that chloroform could cause instant sleepytimes. From there, writers (and disappointed criminals) took the ball and ran with it, and a trope was born.

As for its medical use, chloroform lost a bit of favor when it turned out that 1 in every 3,000 patients dosed with the drug ended up dead. Safer methods arose, especially nitrous oxide, and chloroform dropped out of the real world, taking refuge in fiction. Today, it's mostly used in chemistry labs or as a solvent.

Which is way less exciting.

So remember, if someone jumps from an alley and forces chloroform into your face, you're probably just going to end up a little frightened and a little high. At least from the drug, I make no further guarantees about the criminal.

Holy shit.




"Chickamauga 2009, Chloroform" by Kevin King - Flickr: Chickamauga 2009, Chloroform. Licensed under CC BY 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons

"Balaclava 3 hole black" by Tobias "ToMar" Maier. Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons

Still image from Charmed, S2E7: "Give Me a Sign"

"Simpson James Young signature picture" by Henry Laing Gordon - Frontispiece of Sir James Young Simpson and Chloroform (1811-1870). Licensed under Public Domain via Commons

"Senior chemistry lab at Mother's International School, Delhi" by Prateek Karandikar - Own work. Licensed under GFDL via Wikimedia Commons

Holy Shit, Van Halen!

There are people who take fame in stride with grace and humility. Then there were the rock stars of the '70s and '80s, who evidently took fame as free license to take a figurative shit on anyone they met. The rock star prima donna is one of the most enduring archetypes of the 20th Century, and it's almost for good reason.

Almost.

If we're going to address rock star douchebaggery, we can't very well ignore Van Halen and their bowl of M&Ms. The band had a standard contract that they would send to all of the venues they planned to play. One of the riders stated in no uncertain detail that the backstage area must have a bowl of M&Ms, and every brown piece must be removed.

That's probably not even the album name. They're just that full of themselves.

If these demands were not met, the band had a legal right (one they always exercised) to force the venue to redo the entire setup process. What a bunch of assholes, right?

Ha ha, NOPE!

As it turns out, the whole brown M&M legend was both real and a legitimately good idea. Van Halen's live shows were filled to the brim with technical equipment, and things could go farther south than the Falklands if their instructions weren't followed to the letter. Sometimes it's hard to tell if your equipment is properly serviced and set up, and when that happens -- or rather, when that happened -- stuff broke, and their roadies got electrocuted.

There, but for the grace of a candy shell, go I.

So they came up with the brown M&M rule. If the bowl was there and the brown M&Ms were removed, the band and crew could rest easy knowing that everything was set up properly. If anything was even slightly amiss with their backstage refreshments, on the other hand, they could call out their hosts. They earned themselves a reputation for snobbery, but it's fair to say they also earned their loyal crew a night of not dying in a freak accident.

The thin brown line

In the world of rock and roll, brown M&Ms (or more accurately, a lack thereof) saved lives.

Holy shit.

Holy Shit, Carrots!

That's right, carrots. Didn't think they were too interesting, did you? As it turns out, they kind of are.

First of all, I should tell you that your vision of the standard, archetypal, original carrot is wholly inaccurate. Because you're thinking of an orange carrot, and orange carrots have only been around since the 17th Century, when they were developed as a political statement.

You read that right. They didn't have TV back then, so when they wanted to wow someone with propaganda, they had to pull out all the stops and start screwing with genetics. In this case, horticulturalists loyal to William of Orange, who had led the Dutch in kicking off a successful but eighty freaking year long war for independence.

Peace whenever we get around to it!

In celebration of their good friend Billy Orange, Dutch farmers tampered with carrot breeding until they managed to make a strain of orange carrots. Then they kept at it like they were on a mission from God, apparently. Nowadays non-orange carrots are considered such a strange novelty that people eye them suspiciously more often than they eat them (though that could be because they don't like vegetables).

Years later, carrots would be partially responsible for the Royal Air Force's victory in the Battle of Britain during World War II. I'm not even joking. Don't give me that look.

It makes you look like this

See, the British had finally perfected radar and started using it as an early warning system for bombing raids. They'd send their pilots out to intercept bombers earlier than should have been possible, and the pilots were able to zero in on German planes fairly easily despite it being really goddamn dark out. It was enough to make a Nazi suspicious.

So, the British government created an urban legend. They released false information saying that they had discovered extraordinary benefits that a diet rich in carrots would provide to your eyes, and specifically to your night vision. They claimed, outrageously, that carrots could make you see in the dark!

"GOOD THING WE EAT CARROTS, RIGHT GUYS? *snicker*"

It wasn't that big of a stretch - carrots have vitamin A, which helps to maintain (but not improve) eyesight. It was just big enough to cover the truth while fooling the Germans. And the British. And the Americans. In fact, it continues fooling everyone today.

Not bad for a vegetable, right? Carrots became orange for strictly political purposes several hundred years ago, and they remain orange to this day. Around fifty years ago, they were said to improve night vision - a rumor started for strictly military purposes which remains common knowledge today.

A rumor which may have helped the Allies win World War II.

You're welcome.

Holy shit.