Salty Sweet

There are archetypes that have persisted throughout time, the culmination of centuries of folklore. Even if you don't believe there's actually a Bigfoot scampering around the Pacific Northwest, he can't deny that his image, the half ape, half man creeping through the forest is culturally significant. But if Bigfoot is an aless celebrity in the cryptid world, there are tons

of other weird creatures playing supporting roles. The Yetti, the chupacabra, the Jersey Devil, and one you've probably never heard of, the squonk. According to legend, the squonk is native to the hemlock forests of Pennsylvania. Unlike many fearsome folkloric creatures. The squonk poses no threat to humanity. It's small, slow, and remarkably dumb. It's also pretty easy to hunt. An account published in nineteen twenty six tells the story of

a famous American finding his very own squonk. As the story goes, Paul Bunyan and his men were in a Pennsylvania forest chopping down timber when they heard and I quote, queer wailing some distance away. Curious, they followed the sound. Eventually they noticed a trail on the ground, a wet, salty residue left behind by something. The noise and the trail led those loggers to a little den in the woods,

built out of dirt and leaves. They peered inside and found, I'm sorry to say, a creature that can only be described as utterly repulsive. Its wrinkled skin was marked with moles and warts. Its feet were webbed, but only on the left side, giving it a distinctly asymmetrical appearance. Essentially, it was like a weird, saggy, slightly amphibious pig. But the worst part of all, the squonk was self aware.

It seems that that noise that Paul Bunyan and his buddies heard was the sound of the squonk crying, mourning its own ugliness, and the wet, salty trail was the Squonk's tears soaking into the forest floor. The lumberjacks reportedly grabbed the sobbing animal and shoved it into a bag to carry it home. I don't know if they plan to eat it or keep it as a pets or what, but whatever their plan was, it didn't work out. The next time they opened up the bag, the squonk was gone,

reduced to a puddle of salt water. It had cried so hard that a dissolved into nothing. Now, if you're anything like me, you have two thoughts right now. First, poor squonk, poor ugly little squonk. And second, this whole thing is kind of relatable, like when life is a little too much to handle, who doesn't want to just burrow into the dirt and sob themselves out of existence? Ultimately, though, the squonk is like any other cryptid. It's a story with zero proof, but it feels different to me than

the bigfoots, mothmen, and nesses of the world. So many creatures in folklore arise out of fear, the fear of an ape like monster stalking you through the woods, or a sea serpent and dragging you beneath the water's surface. But the Squank is sympathetic. It's gentle. It's so ugly that it's almost cute. As strange as it sounds, I honestly find the Squank sort of charming. And I'm not the only one. Although the Cryptid was first recorded in nineteen ten, it's recently been the subject of some pop

culture coverage. At least two different bands, the American rock groups Deally Dan and the British band Genesis, have songs that reference the Squonk. There's even a Squonk inspired character in the video game Final Fantasy, So listen. If the story of the Squonk teaches us anything it's that you can be fascinating and legendary no matter what you look like. And also, if you ever need to escape a tough situation, try crying really really hard. Look, no one is good

at everything. While there are people who are skilled in multiple disciplines and possess knowledge across many fields, the truth is that most of us are only adapt at one or two things. Someone might be a talented artist or a skilled engineer. But that doesn't stop us from learning new skills or developing new passions. We may pick up the guitar or try our hand at painting. As for a J. J. Silvester, well, he probably should have stuck to math. James Joseph Sylvester was born on September third

of eighteen fourteen in London, England. He had a bit of a rough childhood growing up, having been taken out of school when he was fourteen for allegedly stabbing another student with a knife. He ended up transferring from the University of London to the Liverpool Royal Institution, but didn't really get into math until he reached Saint John's College, Cambridge in eighteen thirty one. Now, Sylvester did very well in college, even when he was forced to take a

two year hiatus after falling seriously ill. In eighteen thirty seven, he took Cambridge's Tripos examination and ranked second among the other students. Unfortunately, he was unable to graduate with his degree as he could not complete one prerequisite. All graduates had to accept the thirty nine Articles of the Church of England upon completing their studies and Sylvester was the

son of a Jewish merchant father. His religious background put him at a significant disadvantage when it came to war after college, as well, as he was ineligible for any fellowships or math prizes. Still, he persevered and found work at University College London as a professor of natural philosophy. He even went on to earn both a bachelor's degree and a master's from Trinity College, Dublin in eighteen forty one.

But he didn't exactly have a temperament for teaching. It seemed that Sylvester had trouble controlling his anger among his students. After moving to America and becoming a math professor at the University of Virginia, he resigned after less than four months. It seems one of his students had been rudely reading a newspaper in one of his classes and insulted him. When called out for his behavior, Sylvester in turn whacked him with a sword cane, causing him to fall to

the ground. The professor thought that he had killed the boy, but had only mildly wounded him. Except he didn't resign in disgrace, and nor did this school force him to leave Sylvester quit because he didn't feel the university's administration had disciplined the student harshly enough, and so JJ sailed home to England, where he became an actuary at the

Equity and Law Life Assurance Society. Around the same time, he met another mathematician named Arthur Cayley, and the pair developed several important mathematical theories over the course of their partnership. By the time Sylvester died in eighteen ninety seven at the age of eighty two, he had accomplished much. He'd returned to teaching, he'd become a noted math scholar and intellectual, and he knew how to swing a stick well enough to make it hurt. But one thing that he was

not remembered for was his poetry. You see, JJ loved poetry. It was a passion of his and had been all his life. He often read books of poetry in other languages, such as French and Greek, and then translated them into English. He also incorporated poetic quotes into his mathematical essays for a bit of artistic flair. But he didn't just read the stuff. Sylvester also wrote it. He once printed a book of his own composition called Springs Debut a town It'll,

in which every line rhymed with the word in. And there was also his poem Rosalind, a four hundred piece magnum opus, in which every line rhymed with that name Rosalind. In fact, here's just a sample. Fairest oh of lily kind, perfect pearl and priceless find pure as poet's milk, white hind spirit from all dross, refined parts to ravish Heaven's designed. And it goes on like that for another three hundred

and ninety five lines. Sylvester once read Rosalind for the members of Baltimore's Peaboty Institute, but not before he gave everyone in attendance a thorough education on the work. He read them every footnote to avoid having to stop to read and explain the context, and then began reciting the poem. There was just one problem. Almost nobody had stuck around to hear it. He'd actually taken an hour and a half to get through all the footnotes, and by the time he got to the actual piece, most of the

attendees had already walked out. I guess that's the idea of a mathematician writing poetry just didn't add up. I hope you've enjoyed today's guided tour of the Cabinet of Curiosities. Subscribe for free on Apple Podcasts, or learn more about the show by visiting Curiosities podcast dot com. The show was created by me Aaron Mankey in partnership with how

Stuff Works. I make another award winning show called Lore, which is a podcast, book series, and television show, and you can learn all about it over at the Worldoflore dot com. And until next time, stay curious.