Quick lit
for those struggling to catch up on back issues of New Scientist: colleges in China are offering courses in speed-reading, promising students the ability to zip through texts at 20,000 words a minute.
We got wind of this story (a t a m u c h s l o w e r p a c e) via China Daily, which published a viral video showing students flipping through whole books in seconds. The bookworms, filmed at a reading competition in Yancheng, Jiangsu, are said to be practising 鈥渜uantum speed-reading鈥�, a technique pioneered by Japanese educator .
According to a website run by 鈥� a New Zealand outfit that offers courses in quantum speed-reading 鈥� the technique 鈥渄oes not require the book to be opened at all鈥�, noting that it can be 鈥渟imply held up in front of the reader鈥檚 face and the pages are flipped rapidly using the thumb鈥�.
Advertisement
Even better than that, quantum speed-readers can read books while blindfolded, and practitioners can understand books written in any language. Well, if you can鈥檛 see the words, why would it matter that you don鈥檛 know what they say?
Quantum speed-reading also promises to , shorten sleep duration, heal skin blemishes, improve your golf score, make you win the lottery more often, find lost cats, summon people by thinking of them, grant you precognitive powers such as telepathy and clairvoyance, and unlock psychokinetic abilities. Yes, those are all genuine benefits listed by Ruwan Education.
Speed isn鈥檛 everything, of course: comprehension also has its upsides. Feedback has now spent what feels like hours reading about quantum speed-reading, and we are none the wiser on how this technique is supposed to work. On the plus side, we have found an awful lot of lost cats.
Dirty business
In New Delhi, the Khadi and Village Industries Commission has , such as bottles made from bamboo and soap made from cow dung. Since the Hindu nationalist Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) came to power in , the cow 鈥� a sacred animal in Hinduism 鈥� has enjoyed a resurgence in popularity, and the market for beneficial bovine byproducts is stacking up.
Readers may recall that the Indian ministry for traditional medicines, AYUSH, previously announced plans to raise a generation of super-children by feeding women pastilles made from cow dung (28 September). Good , are brushing their teeth with cow urine toothpaste and washing their bodies with cow-dung soap.
A handwash that contains the very thing you wash your hands of does sound like a cunning plan for a self-perpetuating business. But in reality, cow-dung soap contains only ash made from dried and heated cowpats. This ingredient is said to be an excellent exfoliant with healing powers that are as extensive as they are unproven.
Feedback has issued an office-wide email: if any of our holidaying colleagues want to bring back a traditional souvenir from India, we would love a bottle made from bamboo.
Nom det corner
We promised we鈥檇 give it up, but just can鈥檛 help ourselves. Anne Barnfield writes to say that as a specialist in equine facilitated therapy, her name is rather apt. And Jim Ainsworth spots Mark Bridge writing in The Times about a bridge design by Leonardo da Vinci. Regular reader Ben Haller is right to point out that Feedback is stuck in a positive feedback loop, and every new example of nominative determinism further fuels the fire of addiction. This is unsurprising, given that it is itself an example of nominative determinism.
No-air mail
Robin Adams notes that those writing letters to the Newbury Weekly News must supply 鈥渁 terrestrial address鈥�. 鈥淒oes this discriminate unfairly against aliens?鈥� he asks. Feedback is more concerned for the publication鈥檚 financial health. In these trying times for print media, overseas readership is not to be sniffed at.
Fantasy food
More on the food labels that under-promise and over-deliver: the 鈥渃heese and onion flavour potato snacks鈥� consumed with relish by Maggie Delaney are 鈥渕ade with real ingredients鈥�.
鈥淧ersonally, I鈥檇 be much more inclined to buy the product if it contained unreal ingredients: fairy dust perhaps or one of Santa鈥檚 helpers or a leprechaun,鈥� which would be much more interesting than boring old crisps, says Maggie.
Which makes us ask: how do you know there aren鈥檛 unreal ingredients in your food? You can鈥檛 prove a negative. Checkmate, science.
Brits abroad
Robert Bevan Smith finds himself unable to resist an offering in a supermarket in Wellington, New Zealand: 鈥淭raditional Welsh Lamb & Mint Sausages鈥�, which are manufactured by 鈥淭he English Sausages Ltd鈥� of Auckland, using New Zealand lamb. A blow to anyone hoping the UK will be an export powerhouse following Brexit: it seems the world already makes its own British goods.
Got a story for Feedback?
Send it to New Scientist, 25 Bedford Street, London WC2E 9ES or you can email us at feedback@newscientist.com Please include your home address.