National Geographic has a new book out of fascinating photos of workers throughout the world in the most bizarre jobs. A collection of 220 photographs.
Culled from National Geographic's vast photographic archive as well as other important collections, this fascinating, wide-ranging volume presents a wonderfully varied group portrait of people at work—in great cities and tiny villages; in 19th-century China and 21st-century New York; in fields, factories, food carts, four-star restaurants, and just about everywhere else we earn our keep. We see cowboys and clowns, dancers and dog groomers, miners and models. On one page, drill sergeants bark orders to U.S. Navy recruits; on another, young Tibetan monks study Buddhist scriptures; and on another, Kenyan women spread coffee beans to dry.
"My wife is 6-foot-3 and weighs 300 pounds," said Ozmun, who became chief in January 2005. "If there is somebody that thinks they can control her, have at it. I have tried for 11 years and haven't been able to."
The mayor and councilman quit because they thought the public outcry was unwarranted and abusive to the chief.
Barnard, the councilman, said he didn't want to be associated with the police chief's detractors...
The mayor told The Oklahoman he believes the way Ozmun has been treated is wrong, and "I don't want to work in a community like this."
Along the same lines as the Wedding Crashers, people are now crashing corporate board meetings, pretending to be board members and proceeding to push for their own agendas. What makes it easy to crash board meetings is that corporate boards have so many members and so many changing members, that most members don't know each other.
Mostly, they're just pranksters looking for a few laughs.
Next time your notice your company reversing strategy midstream or doing something nonsensical, it may just be from a clever prank that was taken seriously.
A new study claims to prove that telephone telepathy is real. That is, when you know who is calling before answering, especially when it is from someone out of the blue.
Each person in the trials was asked to give researchers names and phone numbers of four relatives or friends. These were then called at random and told to ring the subject who had to identify the caller before answering the phone.
"The hit rate was 45 percent, well above the 25 percent you would have expected," he told the annual meeting of the British Association for the Advancement of Science. "The odds against this being a chance effect are 1,000 billion to one."