With the money spent on the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan (roughly $1 trillion), and adjusting for inflation, we could’ve funded the Manhattan Project twenty times (source), funded the entire Apollo program twice (source), and still had enough money left to eradicate malaria (source).

On January 27, 1967, during a pre-launch simulation for the first Apollo mission, a fire broke out in the oxygen-rich command module and all three astronauts — Virgil I. Grissom, Edward H. White, and Roger B. Chaffee — were killed.  This would become a bit of a defining moment for a sleepy town in northern Alabama.

The Saturn IB launch vehicle was designed by German rocket engineers (led by Wernher von Braun) here in Huntsville.  Within just a few years, Huntsville would choose to name three of its new schools as memorials to the astronauts who died on that day.  Chaffee Elementary School, Ed White Middle School, and Grissom High School.  This hierarchy somewhat reflected the command structure of the mission — Grissom was the command pilot, while Chaffee was a senior pilot to White, who was designated as the third pilot.

Huntsville would later name schools to memorialize the explosion of the Challenger (Challenger Elementary and Middle School) and the Columbia disaster (Columbia High School).  This is a part of our local history that most folks don’t recognize or simply take for granted.

If you’re ever in Huntsville (or if you live here, and don’t understand or appreciate our rich part in the history of manned spaceflight), plan to spend most of a day at the US Space and Rocket Center. I guarantee you’ll learn something.

Alright, folks.  This has gone on long enough.  Odds are that, unless you’re some sort of grammar nazi nerd, you’re misusing the first-person singular pronouns: me, myself, and I.  And I’ll bet that you only do it in a “compound” context (ie, “John and I” or “me and Jane”).  I see at least half a dozen reasonably intelligent people screw this one up on any given day.

I could duck into a phone booth (assuming I could actually find one) and transform into Supernerd, where I then discuss things like predicate nominatives or indirect objects or reflexive pronouns, but that always results in an audience full of glazed eyes and blank stares.  So I won’t do that.

Instead, I’ll just arm you with a single, simple rule.

When you’re about to use “I”, or “me”, or “myself”, do me yourself a favor: Before you write that sentence, take the other person out of it.  If the sentence still makes sense, you’re probably not doing it wrong.

Example 1: If you’re posting a picture to Facebook, how do you write the caption?  If you write “This is a picture of John and I!”, you’re doing it wrong.  Observe:

This is a picture of John and I.

Now, remove the other person:

This is a picture of John and I.

Does it still make sense?  If you’re a reasonably intelligent person (and, if you’re reading this, I’d certainly hope that you are), then it won’t.  No one says “This is a picture of I.”, right? Right.  So let’s try again:

This is a picture of John and me.

Okay, so let’s remove the other person:

This is a picture of John and me.

That makes so much more sense. If it doesn’t, then you need to stop what you’re doing and immediately enroll in English 101 at your local community college.  Or stop sleeping through your high school English class. (No, I’m not kidding.)

Now, let’s try something else.

Example 2: Suppose you’re writing an email to a friend of yours, responding to a question about your plans for that evening.  Here’s your first swing at a response:

I bought Jane and I a pair of movie tickets.

Some of you are trying to claw your eyes out at this point.  If you’re not one of those people, let’s try it without the other person:

I bought Jane and I tickets a pair of movie tickets.

See the problem?  Let’s try again:

I bought myself a pair of movie tickets.

And one more time, with the other person:

I bought Jane and myself a pair of movie tickets.

Bingo!

I could knock out a few more examples, but the process is the same: Before you commit to a sentence, remove the other person to see if it still makes sense.  If it does, you’re good to go.  If not, then it’s time to rewrite that sentence before you hit “Send”, “Publish”, or “OK”.

Trey Harris:

I was working in a job running the campus email system some years ago when I got a call from the chairman of the statistics department.

“We’re having a problem sending email out of the department.”

“What’s the problem?” I asked.

“We can’t send mail more than 500 miles,” the chairman explained.

I choked on my latte.  “Come again?”

“We can’t send mail farther than 500 miles from here,” he repeated.  “A little bit more, actually.  Call it 520 miles.  But no farther.

I know that I’m a nerd, but I love reading this kind of stuff.

My friend Alex sent me an early Christmas gift:

(Click the photo for a larger version.)

This might not win Gift of the Year, but it’ll come pretty close.

The History Channel:

At 7:55 a.m. Hawaii time, a Japanese dive bomber bearing the red symbol of the Rising Sun of Japan on its wings appears out of the clouds above the island of Oahu. A swarm of 360 Japanese warplanes followed, descending on the U.S. naval base at Pearl Harbor in a ferocious assault. The surprise attack struck a critical blow against the U.S. Pacific fleet and drew the United States irrevocably into World War II.

It’s sad that we don’t teach our young people about this, especially in the context of recent history.

On December 8, 1941, at 12:30 PM, President Franklin D. Roosevelt delivered the following address:

Yesterday, December 7, 1941—a date which will live in infamy—the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan.

The United States was at peace with that nation, and, at the solicitation of Japan, was still in conversation with its government and its emperor looking toward the maintenance of peace in the Pacific. Indeed, one hour after Japanese air squadrons had commenced bombing in the American island of Oahu, the Japanese ambassador to the United States and his colleague delivered to our secretary of state a formal reply to a recent American message. While this reply stated that it seemed useless to continue the existing diplomatic negotiations, it contained no threat or hint of war or armed attack.

It will be recorded that the distance of Hawaii from Japan makes it obvious that the attack was deliberately planned many days or even weeks ago. During the intervening time the Japanese government has deliberately sought to deceive the United States by false statements and expressions of hope for continued peace.

The attack yesterday on the Hawaiian Islands has caused severe damage to American naval and military forces. I regret to tell you that very many American lives have been lost. In addition, American ships have been reported torpedoed on the high seas between San Francisco and Honolulu.

Yesterday the Japanese government also launched as attack against Malaya.

Last night Japanese forces attacked Hong Kong.

Last night Japanese forces attacked Guam.

Last night Japanese forces attacked the Philippine Islands.

Last night Japanese forces attacked Wake Island.

And this morning the Japanese attacked Midway Island.

Japan has, therefore, undertaken a surprise offensive extending throughout the Pacific area. The facts of yesterday and today speak for themselves. The people of the United States have already formed their opinions and well understand the implications to the very life and safety of our nation.

As commander in chief of the Army and Navy I have directed that all measures be taken for our defense. But always will our whole nation remember the character of the onslaught against us.

Less than one hour later, Congress passed a formal declaration of war against Japan and officially brought the United States into World War II.  Less than four years later, the United States would become the first country to use nuclear arms against another, bombing both Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

Had Japan not surrendered, the United States would have continued to execute plans to deploy another seven nuclear bombs over Japan in the next two to three months.

Julie Zhuo, for the New York Times:

Even in the fourth century B.C., Plato touched upon the subject of anonymity and morality in his parable of the ring of Gyges. That mythical ring gave its owner the power of invisibility, and Plato observed that even a habitually just man who possessed such a ring would become a thief, knowing that he couldn’t be caught. Morality, Plato argues, comes from full disclosure; without accountability for our actions we would all behave unjustly. […]

Psychological research has proven again and again that anonymity increases unethical behavior.

Joshuah Bearman, for Wired:

[Gerald] Blanchard pulled off his first heist when he was a 6-year-old living with his single mother in Winnipeg. The family couldn’t afford milk, and one day, after a long stretch of dry cereal, the boy spotted some recently delivered bottles on a neighbor’s porch. “I snuck over there between cars like I was on some kind of mission,” he says. “And no one saw me take it.” His heart was pounding, and the milk was somehow sweeter than usual. “After that,” he says, “I was hooked.”

(Via Give Me Something To Read.)