DID YOU HEAR THAT?
Somebody drops a plate behind you and you jump.
You didn't decide to. Nobody could decide not to. The signal reaches your muscles in three connections, and your eyes are shut before your brain has worked out what the noise was.
Everything in this book runs on that shortcut.
The whistle that was said to liquefy a man's organs, and the note it actually played — one you could hum. The bridge everyone was taught was destroyed by resonance, which wasn't. The dinosaur that never roared. The frequency that supposedly proves a wartime conspiracy, chosen because the other number was prime. The ghost explained by science, and then the science that nobody checked either.
Some of these stories turn out to be true. More of them began as careful measurements by honest people, and then a number came loose from the sentence that gave it meaning.
Every myth is scored out of ten. Ten is near the truth. One is flying pigs.

didnt see

A SELF PORTRAIT IN THE NUDEIn March 1919 a book appeared announcing the death of its author.
He was still alive, and he had arranged it that way.
The Journal of a Disappointed Man made W. N. P. Barbellion briefly famous and has been read for a century as the rawest thing in English literature: the unedited notebooks of a young naturalist watching his own body fail.
H. G. Wells introduced it. Arnold Bennett called it the book of the day.One critic said it must be a hoax.It is not a raw document. In 1917, dying and barely able to hold a pen, Bruce Frederick Cummings went back through fourteen years of his own diaries and made a book out of them — cutting, rewriting, blanking out the name of his disease, planting footnotes that give away the ending, and inventing the name the world would know him by.He left the evidence in plain sight, in twenty-seven footnotes nobody has ever collected.