Questions to Monsieur Internet: The Weight of Nature, Why Do We Kiss & The Most Eccentric Deaths.
Doubt is the middle position between knowledge and ignorance.
~ Vera Farmiga
How much does a cloud weigh? What about the ocean?
The first question depends of course on how big the cloud is, so let's go ahead and simplify it; A typical cumulus measures around a kilometer long and a kilometer tall, which gives us a volume of one billion cubic meters. This equals something near 500,000 liters of water, (around 1.1 million pounds) or, 166 elephants sweetly floating above our heads.
The next question might be the hardest; 20 seas and four oceans: Atlantic, Indian, Arctic, and Pacific - how much do they weigh all together? The answer is, of course, an estimate: two sextillion (2,000,000,000,000,000,000,000) liters, or seven hundred quadrillion elephants... Heavy? Well, sort of; the ocean accounts for only 0.022% of the total weight of Earth.
Why do humans kiss?
Nobody really knows for sure. It's believed that everything began with primate mothers passing chewed food to their babies mouth, and quickly, this lip-to-lip contact evolved from a survival need to an expression of love.
Because nature is wise and wondrous, kissing works, coincidentally or not, as a mechanism in benefit of biology - helping to transfer and acquire vital information in order to help us choose an appropriate mate. How romantic.
What were the three most unusual deaths?
This tasteless question of mine produced so many fascinating (yes, this is a very indelicate word to use in the current context, I'm aware) answers. I selected my favorite three, may you enjoy (yes, that's another inappropriate word)
I. I believe I can fly:
Franz Reichelt, an Austrian tailor, believed he had invented a costume that could make men fly - he was so sure about his invention that he decided to test it by jumping off the Eiffel Tower wearing it. Allow me to shock you with the results: It didn't work.
II. Told you so:
It was the year 1900 and physician Jesse William Lazear was convinced that Yellow Fever was transmitted by mosquitoes - to prove it, he let himself be bitten by hundreds of them. Shortly after, Lazear died of the disease. The good news: He was right.
III. From heaven, with love
In the year 455 BC, Aeschylus, also known as the Father of tragicomedy, died... well, quite tragicomically - one day, as he philosophized through nature, a flying eagle mistook his head with a rock. Why did the eagle needed a rock? you might now wonder... well, she had just caught a very tasty tortoise and needed to crack it open.