 A stone giant baffles a nation. An introduction is a superstition. One of our great musical compositions was written for a dog. Can you imagine that? Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this is Lindsey McCurry back once more with an amazing array of actual facts with which to entertain you. My cohorts and I will be back in just a minute and a half, so wait for us, will you please? Our first choice item, listen to... Poor man is like the sheep. Find him a leader and blindly he follows. Asking not, wanting not. Show him the false and tell him the true, and he believes not his reason, but the more fanciful untrue. Thus spake someone who was just a little bitter against man's proclivity to be blinded by a sudden flurry of excitement. And the proof? Well, listen to this. In the fall of the year 1869, the inhabitants of the verdant valley of Onondaga were startled when it was announced. I tell you, it's true. It happened on the Newell farm. I saw it with my own eyes. You saw what? What are you talking about? I saw them uncover the giant. Petrified he was in limestone. And I ain't a doubt but what he's real. Why, every feature in his face is as plain as any of yours. He's kind of bent over like something killed him before he had a chance to help himself. Giant? See, look here. Is this some kind of a joke? Oh, it ain't a joke. I'm telling you that I saw it with my own eyes. Just like it says in the Good Book, there were giants in those days, and you ain't a gonna doubt that. No, I ain't, but I'm going to have a look from my chest. Yes, I'm going to have a look. And thus was the discovery of the famous Cardiff Giant, announced to a startled country. The tiny hamlet of Cardiff, after which the huge figure was named, swarmed with visitors from far and near. In the dim light within the tent in which the giant was kept, people spoke only in odd whispers. The 12-foot gargantua seemed to impress silence upon his beholders. The authenticity of the figure was soon accepted by almost everyone, but scientific and theological opinions varied. Set a scientist that the figure found in Cardiff is proof that 12-foot men lived in prehistoric times is pure nonsense. We scientists deny the existence of such a race. Fossilized remains of life and garnered evidence must inevitably point to the folly of peopling the earth with prehistoric giants. The Cardiff Giant is merely an idol, worshiped by a people or race long since vanished. That's final. And set a minister. The Cardiff Giant only serves to prove all the more what science and so-called modernism try to disprove. That the word as found in the Gospel is the final word. The one word and the only word. There were giants in those days. Those who try to say that the Cardiff Giant is merely the object of some prehistoric worship are flying in the face of the divine. And that's final. Thus went the quarrel and the receipts for admission to see the Cardiff Giant amounted to approximately $150,000. T.T. Bonham, master showman of his day, tried to buy it for exhibition, but he was refused. So he calmly went about having one made exactly like the original and exhibiting it as such. Then suddenly one skeptic said of the original Cardiff Giant, Now look, I managed to chip off a piece of the Giant and he's not made of unendowed limestone as he should be, but of gypsum from an entirely different part of the country. That started it. The trail led to one George Hall, brother-in-law of Newell on whose farm the Cardiff Giant was found. Taxed with evidence, Hall laughingly admitted to a reporter. All right, my boy, I guess the jig's up. I've had my laugh, I guess, and proved my point. What point, Mr. Hall? Well, two years ago I had an argument with the minister about the existence of giants on the earth. I couldn't convince him by argument that science has disproved that. So I decided to prove my point by making a laughing stock of him. Two years ago? But how? Why? All right, you'll have the whole story. Well, sir, for two years I studied archeology and fossils. And then the time was ripe. I bought a huge slab of gypsum and then hired a carver to make it into the figure. As soon as I got the carving, I chiseled tiny holes in it. I rubbed it down with sand. And believe me, I wore calluses and blisters on my hands doing it too. And then I bathed the whole Giant in sulfuric acid. And when I finished, I had the Cardiff Giant. But for a hoax like that, while you can... I could be jailed? Oh, no, not on your dintide, no. I didn't say it was a Giant, did I? I didn't ask anyone to believe it, did I? No, I just had the old boy put into the ground on my own brother-in-law's farm. And they can't arrest me for that. The people did all the telling and believing themselves. And so Mr. Hall had a good laugh for himself and set the country on its ears. Can you imagine that? Well, I'm sure you all have heard at least seen pictures of the famous Leaning Tower in the city of Pisa, Italy. That strange eight-story structure, 179 feet high, almost three centuries old, which was in process of construction for almost 200 years. You know, it now leans 16 and a half feet off its natural axis. And despite the fact that the foundation supporting the tremendous load is only 10 feet deep and is no bigger in circumference than the tower itself, the building hasn't fallen nor collapsed throughout all these many years. That is, not up to the present writing. Have you ever wondered about the reason for this apparently unnatural phenomenon? Of course, there must be a natural law governing it, and that is the law of statics, which enables a building to lean whose parts are firmly bound together and whose center of gravity doesn't go beyond the limits of the foundation. In the Leaning Tower of Pisa, there is a spiral stairway which was constructed with increased height on the side which leans and decreased height on the other side. This, of course, throws the greater weight on the side which is opposite to the one that's leaning. And that's why this amazing edifice has remained as a landmark and point of interest for travelers. Can you imagine that? Mr. Brown, I want you to meet Mr. Smith. How do you do, Mr. Smith? How do you do, Mr. Brown? Lindsay, what's that for? I mean that introduction. Oh, that? Oh, I had the boys do that just to show we're not so civilized as we think we are. What do you mean, Lindsay? Why, an introduction like that is just a sign of civilization. It's good etiquette. Ah, and that's where you're wrong, young lady. We may imagine that that primitive custom is etiquette, but it's just our way of holding on to an ancient superstition and then varnishing it with so-called etiquette. Do you mean to tell me that an introduction like that is superstition? Exactly. Let's imagine ourselves in the center of the jungle in a little clearing. It's night. A throbbing drum signifies that a boy is being received into a primitive tribe upon his coming to manhood. In the clearing, apart from the rest of the tribe, the wise old witch doctor gives the boy the rules and taboos of the tribe. But more than that, he says, Never give your name to a living soul. For with your name, he can do you harm and bring upon your head the curses and the evil of all the dark spirits that harm men. Remember that above all. Never give your name to a living soul. But what's that got to do with a modern introduction, Lindsay? Just this. Today, when you're introduced to a person and you give your right name, that means that you're acknowledging him as a friend, one who would not use your name to work witchcraft upon you. In other words, you're trusting him with your life, a high compliment. In Korea, it's bad form to utter the name of a parent or uncle. And among the Shoshone Indians, to give your name to a friend is paying him the highest compliment possible. And in parts of Australia, the exchange of names is believed by some of the Aborigines to be the most profound mark of brotherly greeting. Can you imagine that? And now for the musical portion of this edition of Can You Imagine That? You know, a great many of the famous compositions had their origins or we might say inspirations from strange sources. For none is more strange or, if you will, amusing than the story of Frederick Chopin's Minute Waltz. The Polish genius had the habit of falling in love with any woman who paid him the slightest attention. One of these, Madame Aurora de Devon, better known to the literary world as George Sand, paid more than a slight attention to Chopin. He was hungry for affection and readily succumbed to her. Although she smoked big black cigars, wore men's attire and was capricious and whim, Chopin did love her. And through that love came one of the most charming of Chopin's positions. It seems that the composer was visiting her home in Paris. It is evening. George Sand sits in a comfortable chair. By her side is Frederick Chopin, the smoke from her black cigar curls upward. Chopin speaks. Aurora. Eh? What? What are you thinking of? I wasn't thinking, Frederick, just watching. Watching? Watching what, Sherry? My dog. Look at him, Frederick, just like a lot of humans trying to attain the unattainable. Ah, but there's a place in that, Aurora, even when you don't attain it. What? Stay to music, Frederick. You're a much better at it than you are at philosophical reverie. See? He chases his tail around and around and around, never quite reaching it, always just an inch in back of it. He's very funny, isn't he? Frederick. What is it, Aurora? Frederick, you must ride a waltz about my little dog. A what? This minute, right away. Ride a waltz about the dog. It must be music like he's chasing it. Go to the piano, Frederick. Oh, hurry, hurry, before the mood is gone. Could I refuse, Aurora? All right. I shall put your little dog into music. Quickly, Frederick. Oh, he's funny. And the music must be like that. Quickly now. He's chasing his tail, the unattainable, a whim of the moon. Stop mumbling, Frederick. Play. Ride as you play. Quickly. Yes, quickly. Number was written by Frederick Chopin and called the minute waltz or known to musicians the waltz and the flat. Can you imagine that? Well, now I take pleasure in turning you over to your own announcer. As I say to you, this is Lindsay McCurry bidding you goodbye now.