Michael J. Nelson

A few columns ago, I mused on what it must be like for an expert to have to face the staggering amount of misinformation floating around in his or her area of expertise. And yes, all I can do is muse, as the few times I’ve been in the company of experts, the mistake was discovered and I was soon escorted from the premises. Sure, I was acquainted with a woman who made a conscious decision to become the foremost expert on the origin and history of the Cornish pasty (true story). Sadly, throughout my life, this connection has not opened as many doors as you might imagine.

The ancient Greek ruler Phalaris wasn’t an easy man to work for. He was known as Phalaris the Tyrant of Agrigentum (and no one ever says of people with Tyrant in their name, “Great guy! I’m always better off for having seen him.”). He wasn’t content with the state of the art of torture and execution, e.g., boiling, flaying, burning, sawing in half—you know, the classics. It was good technology that got the job done, but Phalaris was a man who pushed his employees, constantly asking the question, “What’s next?” Under his firm and visionary leadership, the brass worker Perilaus of Athens developed what would become the next big thing in execution—and entertainment—for a decade or more. Known as the Brazen Bull, it was a large, hollow brass chamber in the form of, as you might guess, a bull (think the Wall Street bull, only without the tourists posing next to its metal genitalia) with a lockable access door. Horrible to be trapped inside, of course. Even more horrible should someone light a fire underneath it, which, this being the rule of Phalaris the Tyrant, they did without fail.

For every technology that has outlived its usefulness, there remains a (usually) small but highly committed band of enthusiasts who advocate for, preserve, and curate it (primarily by going on Internet forums and comparing doubters to Hitler). For example, the LP has had its best year in a long time, selling more than 2 million units. Yes, that’s roughly 0.01 percent of the number of CDs and downloads Lady Gaga sells in any given week, but still, sales are on the rise. And just dare to tell a fan of old-fashioned mechanical watches that your old $13 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles digital keeps better time than his. He’ll likely threaten to gut you like a fish. If you go on a search for fans of AM radio, you’ll find vanishingly small numbers and a distinct lack of passion. While a large number of stations still broadcast AM, their programming is generally limited to the unglamorous world of sports talk radio, local coupon shows, and the lesser songs of Bobby Goldsboro.

A recent Internet meme featured a goofy song set to clips from an obscure mid-’70s wilderness “epic” called Buffalo Rider. I watched the whole film and can tell you the title is not a euphemism (thank the heavens); it’s a 19th century period piece about a guy who tames and rides a buffalo (technically the American bison, but American Bison Rider makes for a terrible title). Well, truth is, he kind of tames the buffalo—mostly the poor brute ambles about trying to scrape its rider off on low tree branches, angrily chases after bears, and generally goes about as he wishes and looks decidedly untamed, save for the fact that there’s a guy on his back.