Beavers Return to the City

For the first time in 200 years, beavers have been spotted in New York City. This may not sound like big news to those of you who live in more pristine environments, but it's caused a great deal of excitement here. The waters around New York were once a wildlife paradise--home to seals, dolphins, and foot-long oysters. But by modern times, pollution and hunting had put an end to all that.

The sight of a young, male beaver setting up house in the Bronx River is a sign that New York's waters are healthier--but also a sign that the beavers' wooded upstate habitat is shrinking. Seems most of these creatures would prefer to stay out of the city, but they may no longer have a choice.

The New York Times has a great video of the beaver, which biologists named Jose. (In may not last long, so take a look while you have the chance.)

Secret of the Empire State Building

There are many things in life that seem ordinary—even dull—until you bother to take a closer look. Most people would agree that a freeway is nothing more than a featureless stretch of asphalt designed to put drivers to sleep. It might surprise them to learn that many of America’s highways were built with a secret function in mind. In times of war, these straight, broad, boring roads are meant to double as landing strips for airplanes.

Likewise, thousands of people visit the observation deck of the Empire State Building and marvel at the city below, without ever realizing that the tower on top of the building was built to be a dock for enormous blimps known as zeppelins.

Before the jet age began, zeppelins were thought to be a viable means of transporting passengers across the Atlantic. (That dream died one day in 1937 when a German zeppelin named the Hindenburg burst into flames over New Jersey.) The Empire State Building, the tallest building in the world when it was finished in 1931, seemed an ideal landing port. However, strong winds made it far too dangerous for the skyscraper to serve its original function. Only one landing was ever successfully made--and it lasted a mere three minutes.

Still, I can't help but imagine how fantastic it would it be to fly from Europe and arrive in America at the top of the Empire State Building.

How to Cope with City Living

Yesterday, Manhattan's Union Square Park was the site of a massive pillow fight. Hundreds of New Yorkers took out their aggression on their fellow citizens--using feathers and foam rather than the traditional elbows and fists. As much as I would have liked to whop a stranger or two, I had to skip the fight. But given the success of the event, there's sure to be another one next year.

For pictures, as well as a video of the 2006 NYC pillow fight, click here.

One Hungry Girl

I love Japan. What other country would raise competitive eating to an art form? For the past ten years, the Japanese have kicked butt in the annual July 4th Coney Island hot dog eating contest. Since 2000, the same man has claimed the prize. Takeru "The Tsunami" Kobayashi ate 56 hot dogs in 12 minutes last year. Just thinking about it makes me nauseous.

I'm not a proponent of gluttony, and competitive eating is not without its (very serious) risks. However, I'm pleased to hear that a woman has now emerged as a serious contender. As you might imagine, men have long dominated the "sport." (For obvious reasons: bigger stomachs and fewer inhibitions.) But in recent years, one very small woman has become the darling of the Japanese competitive eating world.

Natsuko Sone, known as "Gal" (a reference to her style of dress which would require a whole new post to explain properly), is 5'4 and weighs 95 pounds. Yet she regularly goes head-to-head with some of the most successful men in the business. Sone has been known to eat 183 pieces of sushi in thirty minutes and 20 pounds of food in an hour. Remarkably, medical tests performed on the prodigy have shown that her stomach is of normal size.

To see her in action, click here and here. Boy do I love Japanese variety shows.

Rats Invade Greenwich Village

This morning, the New York City Department of Health shut down a Greenwich Village Taco Bell after concerned citizens videotaped dozens of rats frolicking in the restaurant after it had closed for the night. In Manhattan, it's pretty hard to avoid rats. Anyone with a sharp eye could easily spot a few every day--scampering along the city's gutters and subway tracks. But I must admit that the video is truly shocking, even to a jaded New Yorker like myself.

And since we're on the subject of rats, I highly recommend the book Rats: Observations on the History and Habitat of New York's Most Unwanted Residents by Robert Sullivan. It's highly entertaining and a must-read for anyone who wants to understand one of mankind's greatest enemies.

Amazing Squid News!

A COLOSSAL squid (Mesonychoteuthis hamiltoni) was recently captured off the coast of New Zealand! (Pictured below.) As squid lovers know, this species is even bigger than the giant squid. In fact, one expert was quoted as saying that if calamari rings were made from the recently captured animal, they'd be as big as tractor tires. Very few colossal squid specimens have ever been discovered since the species was discovered in 1925.

More here.

Kiki Strike Around the World

The first international editions of Kiki Strike are coming out around the world, and I thought you might enjoy seeing the covers. There are many more to come!


Kiki in Japan


Kiki in Germany


Kiki in the Netherlands


Kiki in Italy

The Eavesdropper's Best Friend

In my opinion, you don't need to spend tons (or any) money to be a good detective/spy. However, from time to time, I run across a gadget that seems particularly useful. Then I ask a certain friend to replicate it for me. (I'm feeling very thrifty these days.)

I recently found the "M-7 Secret Agent Spy Ear." Who knows if it works, but the manufacturer of this tiny device says it will allow you to hear other people's conversations across "great distances." They also claim you can "hone in" on specific conversations in crowded environments. Cool? Absolutely. Too good to be true? Possibly.

The History of London in Maps

New York will always be my favorite place on earth, but there are other cities around the world that I find equally intriguing. (Tokyo, Buenos Aires, Rome, and Vienna to name just a few.) Among the most fascinating is London, once home to toxic fogs, Jack the Ripper, and the incomparable Queen Elizabeth I. Almost two thousand years older than New York, London has survived floods, fires, and the blitz. Today, it has more history per block than almost anywhere else on the planet.

Recently someone sent me a remarkable London-related link. (Thanks, Chris.) The British Library's website has an interactive feature that allows visitors to explore London's history through old maps of the city. Take a look when you have an hour to spare.

The Year of the Pig Has Arrived!

Yesterday was the Chinese New Year and the first day of the Year of the Pig. (It also happened to be Kirsten Miller's birthday, but that's another post.)

The Chinese Zodiac is represented by twelve animals. As with western astrology, a person's personality is thought to be influenced by the sign they're born under. People born in the Year of the Pig are supposedly loyal, honest, and friendly--although at times they can be pushy, lazy, and selfish. You can find your sign here.

New Year festivities have begun all over the world and will last until March 4th. However if you're in New York on February 25th, I highly recommend taking a trip to Chinatown for the annual parade and festival. The dragon dances are truly unbelievable.

An Apology and an Update

I am so sorry that your comments haven't been making it onto the blog for the past two months! There was an unforeseen technical problem. I hope you're not offended. The more comments the better, as far as I'm concerned! And thanks for all of the tips and links you've sent since December--I'm checking them all out now.

A couple of updates. The paperback Kiki Strike will be out in May, and there will be some great new stuff on the website around that time, so definitely check it out. Also, the next book should be available later this year!

As for my adventures in France, I'm going to start telling the story next month! (It took me this long to recover.)

PS: I know the photo doesn't have anything to do with this post, but I thought it was amazing. It's a huge, 450 pound jellyfish. No joke. Apparently, tons of these creatures invade the waters around China and Japan from time to time.

You Asked For It

I’ve been asked about the person to whom Kiki Strike is dedicated. This story is far too long for one post, but I’ll try to give you the basic facts.

Caroline McDonald was an Australian citizen, a world-class athlete, and a good friend to the Irregulars. Kiki and I first met her two years ago when she was shoved in front of a speeding subway train.

You don’t tend to forget such events, and I can still recall the evening in question in remarkable detail. It was shortly after 10 PM, and we were at the Union Square Station in downtown Manhattan, waiting for the number 5 train. A small, athletic-looking girl stood to our left, eating from a jumbo package of pork rinds. I remember marveling at her appetite. The girl could really pack it away.

Just as the train rounded the bend, a massive man in a hooded sweatshirt rose from a nearby bench and hurried in the direction of the tracks. I didn’t think much of it—the only people in New York who aren’t in a rush are the tourists. So I was shocked to see Kiki bolt toward the man with her fists clenched. She didn’t reach him in time. With one quick shove, he pushed the hungry girl onto the train tracks.

Witnesses screamed and ran for the exits (a response I can neither explain nor condone). The train’s conductor slammed on the emergency brake, and ten subway cars screeched to a halt. When I pushed through the fleeing crowds, I found Kiki sitting on top of the unconscious attacker, waiting for the police to arrive. She’d pulled his hood back, I could see he was young—no more than eighteen or nineteen-years-old. I heard the faint wail of sirens in the distance and a transit worker crying softly to himself. Then a muffled Aussie voice called out from below. “Would somebody get this *@%&*@ train off me?” (I won’t repeat her actual phrase, but you’ll probably curse, too, if you’re ever run over by a subway.)

If you read the papers, you may have heard the rest of the story. Thanks to her remarkable presence of mind and athletic training, Caroline had managed to roll in-between the tracks. The train missed her by inches. Her assailant was a college student named Eric Littleton. He and Caroline were both stars of the school’s renowned track team—a team Caroline was about to expose for its abuse of an illegal (yet undetectable) synthetic steroid.

Even with Eric Littleton (and two of his track coaches) in jail, Caroline’s life was still in danger. The Irregulars were happy to serve as her bodyguards—largely because she was so entertaining to have around. She regaled us with stories of Australia’s deadly wildlife and introduced us to a culinary wonder known as a meat pie. I coached her to fourth prize in the Coney Island hot dog eating contest, and she was the first person to read Kiki Strike: Inside the Shadow City. Without her help, I don’t know if Kirsten Miller and I could have convinced the Irregulars to let the book be published.

Six months after the subway incident, Caroline decided it was time to go home to her beloved Australia. The last time we saw her was when she stepped into an airport-bound taxi. Two weeks later, she disappeared on a camping trip near Uluru (otherwise known as Ayres Rock). The official story is that dingos were to blame, but the Irregulars suspect foul play and are still investigating.

The Hidden Treasures of New York

Most people think that the greatest archaeological discoveries take place in far-away deserts or rainforests. But even in the biggest, most populous cities on earth, there are still hidden treasures waiting to be found. Case in point: Weeksville, Brooklyn.

In 1838, a free African-American named James Weeks started a small but thriving community in the part of Brooklyn that is now known as Bedford-Stuyvesant. Over the following decades, Weeksville served as a refuge for African-Americans fleeing persecution in other parts of the country. But as time passed, Weeksville’s residents died or moved away. Though it was located in the heart of Brooklyn, by the middle of the twentieth century, the little town had been swallowed by overgrown weeds and was utterly forgotten.

Then, in 1968, a pilot flying over Brooklyn noticed several tiny wooden houses in the middle of a large vacant lot surrounded by housing projects. An entire town had been discovered in New York City. Since then, the four farmhouses that were spotted from the air have been renovated and are now open to the public. Not only are they an important part of American history--they should serve as a reminder to never take the familiar for granted. Who knows what might be found in the vacant lots near your house?

The Future is Here!

A couple of items for your birthday list. The first is a Levitating Hover Scooter, which glides inches above the ground on a cushion of air and can reach a top speed of fifteen miles per hour. The second (and far more affordable option) is Gelli Baff, a fascinating chemical mixture that turns bath water into a foul, jewel-colored slime. (From what I can tell, it's only available in the UK at the moment. This time, the Brits are one step ahead.)

Bizarre and Inexplicable

Three hundred and fifty years ago, a three-foot tall, flightless bird lived on the islands of Mauritius off the eastern coast of Africa. Then it vanished. The last reported sighting of the infamous dodo took place in 1662. The famished sailor who saw the last known dodo . . . ate it. In the previous century, the creature had been hunted to the brink of extinction (despite the fact that most agreed that its meat tasted terrible), and animals introduced by European colonists had destroy its nests. Yet the bizarre bird was never forgotten, although until the 19th century, most believed it had been little more than a myth.

Now for the bizarre part. Artist Harri Kallio has created a series of photographs that are meant to show the dodo in its native habitat. To do so, he built life-size models of the bird and recreated its natural surroundings. The results are interesting--and extremely strange. When I first saw the photos, which were published in The New Yorker magazine, I wasn't sure what to make of them. Rather than offer my opinion, I'll let you be the judge. Enjoy. (When you link to the New Yorker website, follow the instructions for starting the slide show.)

A Cabinet of Curiosities

I honestly believe that there’s no excuse for boredom. The world is a bizarre and wonderful place, filled with lost cities, mysterious creatures, and strangely-shaped food. However, you’re unlikely to discover any of them sitting on your couch. (Although sometimes you can find them while sitting at your computer.) But if you conjure some curiosity and take the time to investigate a few of life’s mysteries, your dull moments will begin to feel few and far between.

Which brings me to the subject of this post. I recently learned about the Athanasius Kircher Society, a group named for a 17th century German scholar, whose many areas of interest and expertise included Egyptian hieroglyphics, Chinese dragons, automatons, the plague, and volcanoes.
(Apparently, he once had himself lowered into Mount Vesuvius just as it was about to erupt.)

The Society is dedicated to exploring “the wondrous, the curious, the singular, the esoteric, and the sometimes hazy frontier between the plausible and the implausible.” Its fantastic blog features short posts (with links) devoted to a host of amazing (and often creepy) subjects. Among my favorites are . . .

The Hanging Temple of Hengshan
The Disappearing Octopus
A Field Guide to Albino Animals
The Body Baker (Warning: This looks pretty gruesome—but everything you see is made out of bread!)

I recommend taking a look through the Athanasius Kircher Society’s online archives. But as anyone who clicked on the last link knows, some subjects may require a strong stomach.

How to Be a Cryptozoologist

Cryptozoologists are scientists devoted to the discovery and study of creatures that are only rumored to exist--the Loch Ness Monster, Bigfoot, Yeti, Skunk Apes, and the Mokele Mbembe to name just a few. Personally, I can't imagine a better job.

If you think cryptozoology is a hopeless cause, think again. The list of animals that were once thought to be hoaxes is surprisingly long and includes the platypus, giant squid, and Komodo dragon. In fact, until the 19th century, Western scientists refused to believe in the existence of a man-sized ape that was said to live in the mountains of Africa. That creature is now known as a gorilla.

Most cryptozoologists don't get paid for their efforts. Their work is a labor of love. But if you're interested in this unsual science, you can learn how to get your start in thisarticle written by well-known cryptozoologist Loren Coleman.

This Week in Sea Monsters

Late last week, Japanese fishermen discovered a rare frilled shark swimming in the waters south of Tokyo. Although these creatures aren't often seen on the surface, I wouldn't be surprised if the species were responsible for a few sea monster sightings.

For more pictures and video, check out the story on CNN.

A Truly Twisted Cartoon

Making Fiends is a sinister (yet hilarious) cartoon created by Amy Winfrey. Allow me to introduce you to its two main characters . . .

Charlotte:
The new girl in school. So sweet, gentle, and kind that you don't know whether you want to hug her or punch her.

Vendetta:
The school's resident evil genius who creates hideous monsters that terrorize her classmates. Oh--and she has an evil giant hamster for a sidekick. What could be better?

Learn more about Making Fiends (and watch tons of episodes) online.

Street Art

The work of the mysterious Banksy.

For Sale: Dracula's Castle

More proof that New York is the greatest city on earth: The owner of Bran Castle, better known as Dracula's Castle is a New Yorker, and he's willing to sell the building to anyone with 78 million dollars!

Built at the beginning of the 13th century and located near Brasov, Romania, Bran Castle is rumored to have been the home of the infamous Vlad the Impaler--the evil 15th century warlord who served as a model for the world's most famous vampire, Dracula. (The castle is also said to have a secret passage or two--one of which was only recently discovered.)

The castle is now owned by Dominic von Habsburg, the son of Princess Ileana of Romania who inherited the castle from her mother, Queen Marie. Von Habsburg lived in the castle until 1948 when, at the age of ten, he was forced to flee Romania as communists seized control of the country. He has lived in exile for the last sixty years, and now works as a furniture designer in New York.

Last year, decades after it was seized by the communist government, the castle was returned to von Habsburg's family. Now the tourist attraction is for sale.

For the New York Sun article on Dominic von Habsurg, click HERE.

The Second Coolest Map of New York

As you may know, I’m a big fan of maps. Today, I came across one of the most useful I’ve ever encountered. The Gothamist, a website devoted to all things New York, has created an ever-changing, always up-to-date map that shows police activity, fires, main breaks, and more in all five boroughs.

Want to know what the police are doing in your neighbor’s apartment? Worried about the people wearing Minnie Mouse masks who just entered the bank across the street? Take a look at the map! Incidents are labeled with tiny icons that reveal information when you scroll over them with your mouse. You can even zoom in to get a closer look at the building or street corner where all the excitement is taking place. (Unfortunately, the satellite images are not up-to-date, so you’ll be able to see the scene, but not the action.)

However, anyone planning a move to the city would do well to avoid this handy site. Although New York is now one of the safest cities in America, the Gothamist map makes it perfectly clear that we still have our share of bad guys.

See the map HERE.

Rockefeller's Underground Escape Route Discovered?

740 Park Avenue has long been considered the most prestigious address on the island of Manhattan. Built 75 years ago, it has been home to Vanderbilts, Bouviers, Rockefellers, and royalty. To purchase an apartment in the building, you must be more than just wealthy—you must be among the world’s super-rich.

For decades, 740 Park Avenue has also been at the center of one of Manhattan’s most beloved “urban myths.” According to rumor, shortly after the building opened, John D. Rockefeller Jr. built an underground “escape route” beneath it. The tunnel is said to have led from the basement to nearby subterranean train tracks where the Rockefeller private train could carry John Jr. away from the city.

Most, including the Rockefeller family, claim that the story is pure fantasy. Now, however, it seems that there may be more truth to the tale than previously thought.

Last summer, members of the NYC Water Works were working 15 feet beneath the street outside 740 Park Avenue when they happened upon an old vault. Inside, the plumbers discovered a series of hidden chambers connected to the building’s basement. Each had an arched ceiling roughly 10 feet in height and walls composed of old bricks. No one seems to know what purpose the forgotten chambers may have served, but some have suggested that they are part of a lost tunnel built not by the Rockefellers, but by their neighbors, the Vanderbilts.

Of course this underground discovery is not the first for the NYC Water Works, who’ve found everything from abandoned pools to forgotten barber shops deep beneath Manhattan.

Finalist #6: Continued

"Oh, hello Mrs. Verere." Savannah turned around to see my mom peering at us.

"What's going on here?" She asked, an eyebrow raised. She was looking us over, noting our boots and goggles. "Swimming, Hiking, or a new hybrid of the two?"

"Neither Mrs. Verere." Savannah, always acting the good child, was smiling and suddenly giggled like a schoolgirl. She was good.

"Then what?" She looked suspicious. "And why did you take O.F.F?" She pointed a small finger at the can of bug spray we had brought.

I perked up. "Walking around the levy. It's for a project, we are making a movie!" I brought out a video camera. It wasn't that big of a lie. We were using the camera, just not at the levy.

"Levy huh? That'd mean you would be using the back door." Mom pointed us to the back. "Not the front."

I beamed at her and began to walk back. "Come on crew! Let's make a project!" I acted as if I were a director. I even went as far as to pretend I was snapping one of those snapping boards. I was glad to see that the twins had actually caught on that I was fooling mom. They were all in it, but subtly. We were all excited, and honestly excited. We were about to have an adventure, one without any adults. One inspired by a random idea that popped into Dylan's head: "Why don't we find out what's there?" Savannah and I had just gone with it, and Sam was just along for the ride.

We hurried out the door, anxious to start our adventures. I led the little 'Film Crew' taping minor things that each of us saw. Like how the ever-approaching trees looked, how one branch was bent to accommodate a person, how there was an unusual species of ants crawling around. But I never filmed the 'crew' or myself. Incriminating Evidence may come, but I was sure that it wouldn't come by my own hands.

We were almost there, nearly all of us smiling, and all of us silent. "Sly up folks." I reminded them that we were nearly there. Not that they needed to be told. The place was obvious, it was a huge area. Probably a mile long. We each had a small map of the place made by one of my Hippie friends who came up every year. It was a huge forest of sorts, with plenty of trees and most probably safe. We were here to help the Hippies by checking up the map and making sure nothing 'else' was there. Rumors of a haunting had been a possible cause for the cancellation of the yearly Earth Day Fest in my suburb. When my Hippie friend, Ella, asked if I could try to solve the haunting, I could only accept. Not only was she one of my best friends, but she was also offering something girls in suburbs can't get- Real Life Adventure. So I began to recruit my best friends, Dylan and Savannah. Dylan wasn't that good at spy work, but he had a decent nose and loved the paranormal. Savannah was our cargo carrier and camera toter. And I was the expert who knew the place, having gone to the Earth Day Festivities since I was Six years old, I was now fourteen. I was also our main weaponieer, the person who had the pepper spray and the five-inch heel boots. Sam was, obviously, our logical expert. I realized that now. He was our Brains. I was our Leader. Dylan was our Nose and Savannah was our Toter.

Now all we needed was to find the Ghost. The Ghost, according to those who had seen her, was a young woman. Probably around twenty to twenty-five. She was pretty, rumor said, with a nice face. She was supposedly wearing a long white nightgown. I had called her 'Sophie' because it seemed proper, she was a woman and she was probably from when German settlers were, well, settling. And I also liked the name 'Sophie' and Sophie she became.

Apparently Sophie wasn't shy, she had shown herself to over ten people at once, and again to a group of twelve. We figured it would be easy for her to show herself, we were just hoping she'd smile for the Camera.

"Dyla-" Savannah began, the rest of us quickly shushed her. The huge trees were spectacular and amazing. Not the sort of thing you'd see in a H.O.A Run Suburb like mine. Unique, that was the word. Or was it Basic? I swallowed the thought as I signaled for Sav to start the camera again, with my other hand I snapped and signaled to go forward.

I turned, looking at the other three. Savannah, Dylan, Sam. We were set. We went through the huge trees and into the main clearing. "Savannah, set up the Camera for Night Vision mode." I instructed, having taught her how to use the special camera I expected her to remember. I heard a familiar swoosh of the lens and I knew she was successful without even having to look.
"Dylan, the kit?" I asked, Dylan spoke "Yes." He pointed to Sav's back.

"Hey! What am I supposed to do?" My brother, Sam was looking annoyed. "I'm not going to stand out here and just stand! I want to do something too." He pulled something from his bag and said "I could sn-"

I cut him off. "Stay here." I tossed him the pepper spray and a flashlight. The sun was going down now, even more so. It was Twilight already and the moon was already rising up. So we left Sam and began filming the Hippie's Forest, staying clear of nasty looking leaves and thorns. We could all hear Sam behind us, but we didn't mind much.

"Savannah, are you getting this?" I said as we rounded a corner to where the Sophie Sightings had taken place. The air was chilly, even though it was April and we were in Texas.

"K." Dylan's voice was wary and had his 'I'm about to say something informational about this' tone.

"I know, Dyl. " My voice did not waver, and I was proud of myself for that fact alone.

"But K." Dylan was beginning to say something about thermal temperatures and ghosts, I just knew it.

"I don't want to hear it, Dylan. Are you getting the area Savannah?" I asked again, just to shut Dylan up.

"Yeah, but K. you've gotta see this." I looked into the Camera and out into the area to see a dull white light showing. A girl, looking around seventeen instead of twenty, was twirling in a nightgown. Lights got brighter and brighter.

"What's going on?" Savannah asked, not able to look away from the camera.

"I don't know." I turned to find out. Seven lights were in the distance, getting brighter every second.

"Come on!" I grabbed Dylan and tried to grab Savannah. "Come on!" I pushed her a bit more. I turned again and hit my head on a lowered tree branch. I pushed it up and continued to help Savannah, or try to.

"No. I've got to get this, Kaitlyn. I've got to." She sounded vicious for a moment.

"To #$@# if you will." I grabbed her and knocked down the camera. I quickly pushed Savannah next to her brother behind a bush and found myself in the clearing with nowhere to hide, nothing to hide behind.

That's when I looked up to see a tree branch hanging low, the same one that had hit me. I had to jump to grab it, but I did. I pulled myself up until I reached the bigger branches. I had to hang on for my life. The lights got brighter and brighter . . .
I saw Sophie better from this height. She was still playing and twirling, but she soon stopped as the lights got too close for comfort. The teenage girl disappeared as the seven lights finally revealed themselves. It was a group of dirt bikers. They swerved to avoid my tree and almost ran over my fallen camera. I nearly sighed when they didn't.

I could hear Savannah swearing not-so-nice words at the men for interrupting her first ever ghost sighting. I had to gasp as one of the back passengers took off his helmet. It was my younger brother, Sam, holding a camera. He held it up to Dylan and Savannah's tree and snapped a few photos and said "Come out, Twits."

He began snapping more photos as they stepped out. "Leaving me alone, what were you thinking? Kaitlyn?" My brother was calling me, he began to shine his flashlight over the trees and I shrunk back, avoiding the beam by a millimeter. After about five minutes of searching, he stepped off the dirt bike and told his friends to go on ahead and go without him. Dylan and Savannah were about three yards away from Sam and he looked sort of menacing in the moonlight. "Did you find your ghost, Kaitlyn?" He asked, rolling his eyes. He looked up, right at me and I gulped.

He looked away. He couldn't see me.

I suddenly heard the wind rushing and it got colder in the night. I looked down and saw my Sophie, twirling right in front of Sam. He widened his eyes and began to stutter. I jumped down right on top of her and she disappeared.

"Got my Ghost, thanks for asking." I said, smiling slyly as I saw that the camera had been facing Sophie and the rest of us. I whomped my brother on the head with a stick and began to drag him home.
I stopped. "Dylan, you take him home. I'll stay with Savannah and the Camera." Dylan opened his mouth to protest, but his sister peeped up

"Yeah Dyl. Go on and have a manly chat with him." I loved Sav sometimes. So we stayed with the camera as my best guy friend dragged away my best kid brother.

"What will we do about her?" Sav finally said.

"About who?"

"The ghost." She said, pointed at the camera.

"You mean Sophie?"

"You named her?" She looked astonished.

"Of course."

"Well, what will we do now? We have proof she's there. But not proof that she won't harm anyone during the Fest." She had a point.

"I have no idea." I shrugged and waited for another glimpse of Sophie.

"Well, we could sell the video? You know, at the festival. She'd like that, Sophia." Savannah said, her voice light and in anticipation. As if she too was watching for another glimpse of the ghoul.

"She'd love being seen. And it's Sophie. Not Sophia."

"That's her name though, she's just not serious enough for Sophia." Savannah seemed to know the girl.

"How the Heck do you know?" I was angry that anyone could know Sophie more than me. She was my ghost after all.

"Because, she twirls. She loves attention. We should sell tapes. I'm sure she'd leave, K."

I wanted to argue more, but she sounded so secure in her decision. "Fine. But she better not show up during the festival." I finally grabbed the camera stand from the ground and began to put everything else. "Come on." I told Savannah. But she didn't seem to be watching me. She was watching the nothingness in Sophie's place. Sophia's place.

Two days later, we mysteriously shipped a box full of DVD disks to my Hippie Friend Ella. She sold them at her booth and it seemed to please Sophie (Sophia?) enough to only come back when no one else was around. We didn't have that many more adventures, sorry to disappoint you. But hey, two girls and their brothers living in the suburbs can't have that many in one year.

Can they?

Kidnapped!

Just joking. I really enjoyed all the comments, but I figured I better set a few things straight . . .

1. Though I wasn't kidnapped, I was detained by customs officials on my way back from France. Seems they frown on people carrying bones back in their luggage. Who knew? (More on that later.)

2. I humbly beg your forgiveness for not posting. I've been itching to tell you about my misadventures in the catacombs, but I was warned not to say anything more until I was safely out of Paris. One thing I've learned in the past few months--don't screw around with les gendarmes. (OK, more on that later, too.)

3. I'll catch everyone up on the French adventure as soon as possible. C'est tres bon! But for those who've speculated there's another book in the works, you're right. Fortunately, I had a lot of time to work on it while I was stuck in a small, windowless room, questioning the wisdom of smuggling human bones back from France.

4. Kiki and I encourage any efforts to start new organizations around the country. Last I checked, the other 49 states weren't short on people in need of a good butt-kicking. But it's NEVER a good idea to give out your name, email address, or any other information to people you meet online. If you want to start a new group through this site, please comment here, and I will find a way to be in touch.

5. If you start a new blog or website, please make sure to let me know. (I'm trying to visit the ones that have already been mentioned.) I'll try to post a link from my site. (By the way, I love the new look, too! And there's much more to come.)

6. My not-so-ghostwriter, Kirsten Miller, has rarely been photographed in public. (Good try, though.) However, numerous poems have been written extolling her unusual beauty and uncanny charm.

7. Kirsten Miller said she's married? Perhaps she was attempting to throw people off her trail—and I’ll state for the record that I’ve never known her to make a clichéd statement of any kind.

8. A giant squid was recently filmed by Japanese researchers. This photo is definitely the best I’ve ever seen!

9. Alexxis and cosimacat (thanks theatre), if you live in New York, you’re officially invited to join the Irregulars.

I Meet My Guide

My first meeting with the girl who was to guide me through the catacombs took place on the morning of July 15th. I met her at a café in the Latin Quarter, one of the oldest and bloodiest parts of the city. For hundreds of years, foreign students from the nearby universities and the native people of Paris staged gruesome and deadly battles in the warren of little streets just off the river. (Many over nothing more than the cost of wine.)

It was ten o’clock on a Saturday, and other than our waiter, it seemed as if we were the only people awake in town. Bastille Day celebrations had ended just hours earlier, and most Parisians were still sleeping off the effects. It was the perfect time to plan our expedition.

Though she’s only a year or two older than I am, Claire has been visiting the catacombs for more than a decade. But she only gives tours to those who come with a personal recommendation. Kiki Strike has seen the tunnels with Claire. So have several macho movie stars, one of whom didn’t like the idea of being guided by a girl. He took off on his own and was discovered twelve hours later, huddled in a corner crying softly to himself.

Claire said she had met members of the Perforating Mexicans while exploring the catacombs. She’d considered joining the club herself, until she found that their taste in movies didn’t suit her. She agreed to take me to see their underground cinema. (The one the police have yet to discover.) But there are far more interesting things in the catacombs, she assured me, than film clubs. Not only are there bunkers and crypts and rooms made entirely of chalk, but her grandfather had always sworn that there were passages under Paris that not even the most intrepid explorers had discovered—tunnels dug by the Nazis during the war. He had spent his entire life searching, and died before he could find them.

Kiki Strike at the Brooklyn Book Festival

Kiki Strike will be one of the featured readings at the Brooklyn Book Festival! If you're in New York, please stop by!

Saturday, September 16, 2006
Brooklyn Borough Hall
10am - 6pm

The Ossuary

In preparation for my journey into the forbidden passages of the Parisian catacombs, I also visited the tunnels that have been opened to the public. I expected a well-lit, heavily-guarded, tourist-filled environment—an underground Disney Land. I was wrong.



Two tips for visiting the catacombs. First, don’t go alone. (I did.) It’s dark. It’s quiet. And you don’t know who’s down there. Second, wear boots or sneakers. (I didn’t.) There’s water dripping (sometimes pouring) from the ceiling in most of the tunnels. The floor in many sections is one large puddle. But despite all this, if you follow my advice, you should have a fabulous time.

The highlight of the catacombs is, of course, the ossuary where human bones line the tunnels. But in order to see it, you must be prepared to walk quite a distance through dimly lit, stone-lined passages with ceilings that hover only a few inches above the top of your head. In many respects, this is the creepiest part of the journey. As the tunnels twist and turn, you can only imagine what might lie in front of you.



When at last you reach the entrance to the ossuary, and read the warning above the door (“Stop, this is the empire of death”), you may feel as if you’re ready for anything. You aren’t. There’s nothing that will prepare you for the sight of human bones stacked in neat piles that can reach more than six feet in height. These are the remains six million Parisians who were buried in the city’s cemeteries before the 19th century.



In the late 1700s, when Paris’s cemeteries had been crammed (literally) beyond capacity, the dead developed a nasty habit of tumbling into the cellars of nearby buildings. The stench from the graveyards was reported to be overpowering, and those who lived in the surrounding areas often fell prey to the “bad air.” That’s when the authorities decided to empty the cemeteries and deliver the remains to the ancient Roman quarry that stretched beneath the city. The men who carted the bones were only allowed to work at night, and it was years before the last of the dead made the trip.



In the passages that are marked for sightseers, the bones of the dead are still artistically arranged, with skulls and femurs forming bizarre (often surprising) patterns. But if you pause to peer though the gates that block less traveled routes, you’ll see that many parts of the catacombs have not fared so well. Walls have crumbled, and the dead lay in chaotic heaps. A sharp eye will also find proof of the catacombs’ multiple layers. Look beyond the barriers, and you might find yourself staring down at a tunnel that weaves beneath your feet.

This was the first glimmer of what I might find in forbidden passages. But as fascinating as the ossuary was, I had no idea how little I’d seen.

The Intestine of the Leviathan

As I mentioned earlier, I first arrived in Paris in July. Verushka Kozolva had provided me with the telephone number of a young woman named Claire (for legal reasons, I can’t give her last name) who could serve as my guide to the catacombs. Her grandfather had been a member of the French Resistance during World War II, when both the Nazis and the Allies had used parts the underground tunnels to their advantage. In time, he had passed his knowledge of the catacombs along to his son (whom Verushka had befriended during year she and Kiki Strike lived in Paris) and his granddaughter.

Claire was vacationing in Romania during my first week in France. While I waited, I downloaded maps of the catacombs from some very impressive websites, but I didn’t trust them (or myself) enough to begin my explorations without an experienced guide. Instead, I tried to get in the mood by visiting other underground attractions around Paris. My first stop, of course, was the sewers.



Anyone with a particularly sensitive nose should steer clear of the sewers. It’s not that they smell the way you’d expect them to smell. If I had to describe their unique bouquet, I’d say it was a mixture of pond water, mold, kitty litter, and garbage can on a hot summer day. But if you’re able to breath through your mouth, the sewers are well worth the trip.

Dig deep beneath any street in Paris and you’ll find an arched tunnel made of brick or stone. In fact, the sewers follow course of the streets so precisely that they form a mirror image of the city above. (You’ll even find street signs to guide your way.) There are more than 1,300 miles of tunnels—some are enormous, more than 12 feet across, and others too narrow to enter. All are gloomy, dark, and dangerous. With a little rain, they become roaring rivers of filth, and toxic gasses are known to accumulate, killing the unprepared in seconds.

Despite the peril, there are many tales of those whose desperation or dimwittedness has led them to pry open one of the manholes that line the streets of Paris and drop into the darkness. Perhaps the most best know is that of Jean Valjean, hero of Victor Hugo’s novel, Les Miserables. (It was Hugo who famously referred to the sewers as “the intestine of the leviathan.")



I, of course, chose to visit Le Musée des Égouts de Paris. It’s a strange museum built around a working part of the sewer system not far from the Eiffel Tower. You’ll see and smell everything you need to make the experience worthwhile, and you’ll learn to pity the people who lived in the days before the sewers were built. But perhaps the most interesting thing about the museum is that you're often on your own, away from guards and tourists. It would be easy to slip into the tunnels and make your way through underground Paris.

Since We're On the Subject of Corpses

Those of you lucky enough to be in New York right now can see the rare blooming of an Amorphophallus titanum, better known as the corpse flower. The plant's enormous single bloom can reach more than five feet in height and emits a nauseating odor of rotten meat, which can offend sensitive noses more than half a mile away. According to the Brooklyn Botanical Garden's website, when the first cultivated corpse flower bloomed in London in 1889, young women weren't allowed into the exhibit because of the plant's "unusual" appearance.

If that's not enough to get you to Brooklyn, check out the photos and information online at the BBG's website.

Lesson Number One

(Which I learned the hard way, as usual.) Finding a way into the catacombs that stretch beneath Paris is not difficult. With a bit of luck, a runaway monkey could find an entrance. Finding a way out is the problem.

Law abiding types can always take the official tour, which guides you past the past the bones of six million Parisians which are stacked in a tidy fashion in a small section of the subterranean tunnels. An ancient and ominous warning greets all visitors, (“Stop, this is the empire of death.”), but unless you try to leave with a thighbone in your bag, you’re unlikely to end up into too much trouble.

Those who would prefer to pay a less legal visit to the catacombs, however, have a wide variety of options. Climb down any number of manholes around Paris, and you may find yourself in a dark passage that’s more than a thousand years old. (The entrance to a theater built by the Perforating Mexicans, for instance, can be accessed through a drain not far from the Eiffel Tower.)

Once you’re inside, you may want to keep an eye out for the policemen who periodically patrol the catacombs, but odds are you’ll see no one. There are more than 180 miles of tunnels under Paris, and only a handful of people can find their way around them.

Which brings me back to the monkey. Among the many who’ve met their fate in the catacombs was an orangutan that escaped from the Paris zoo over 200 years ago. But perhaps the most famous victim of Paris’s “Shadow City” was Philibert Aspairt who disappeared in 1793. His body was discovered many years later, a few feet from an exit. In his hands was a set of keys that could have saved his life. He was later buried on the spot where he was found. For a picture of his tomb, click here.

So now perhaps you’ll understand how it came to be that I got lost on my very first trip inside the catacombs.

If you'd like a little more information on Paris's Shadow City, and you can't wait, click here. Otherwise, stick around.

A Little Something to Tide You Over

Several times in the past week, an enormous manatee has been spotted frolicking in the Hudson River only a few short yards from the coast of Manhattan. A couple of minutes ago, I received an email from my friend and fellow Irregular, DeeDee Morlock, who says she witnessed the great beast as he swam past her townhouse on 106th Street. When she first saw its grey, bloated belly, she almost phoned the police to report a murder. She was pleased to discover it was a manatee, which are far rarer than corpses in the rivers around New York.

I wish I had been there to see it!

Read more in the New York Times.

Miss Me?

Please accept my apologies for neglecting this blog for so many weeks. As you’ll soon learn, I’ve been busy. In fact, if you’ve been reading the Paris newspapers, you may already know about the amazing events that have taken place here in the past month. But I doubt you ever suspected that I was involved.

I’ve been in Paris since the beginning of July. The official purpose of the visit (in other words, the explanation I gave my parents) was a summer of French classes and Parisian culture. A month has passed, and my French is still as terrible as ever. (I was recently told I sound like a dimwitted troglodyte.) I did managed to visit the Louvre once, but it was in the dead of night and too dark to appreciate the art. (More on that later, of course.)

To be perfectly honest, I never intended to spend my summer in classrooms and museums. I came to Paris with two goals in mind: Buy some fabulous shoes and infiltrate the Perforating Mexicans. Not only did I manage to accomplish both goals, I stumbled upon a remarkable sixty-year-old mystery in the process. And I’m thrilled to report that I solved it on my own. (OK, I had a little help.)

I know it’s a bit cruel to leave you in suspense, but my mind is still reeling from all the excitement, and I can’t possibly write the whole tale down at once. Take my word for it, though. This is a story worth waiting for. (Don’t worry, it won’t take another month.)

The Perforating Mexicans

I will soon be spending some time in Paris. While there, I intend to investigate (and hopefully join) a group known as the Perforating Mexicans. (Also known as the Mexican Perforation and La Mexicaine De Perforation.)

In 2004, French police were training in an uncharted section of the Paris Catacombs when they happened upon a secret room deep beneath the city. Unlike most chambers in the catacombs, which are filled only with dirt and ancient bones, this had been turned into a movie theater and restaurant, complete with electricity and a couscous maker.

It seems a group of enterprising Parisians had combined their love of subterranean spaces with their passion for the cinema and created a movie theater in a forbidden part of the catacombs. When the authorities finally arrived for a formal investigation, they found nothing left but a note that read, “Do not try to find us.”

No one has heard from The Perforating Mexicans since, but I have a hunch that they haven’t abandoned the catacombs altogether.

For more information, see the Wikipedia entry, which includes an interesting picture of the secret society at play.

Map Thief Pleads Guilty

Amazing as it may seem, Dr. Lyle Mayhew, Columbia University's resident map thief, hasn't been the only criminal stealing valuable items from libraries across the US. Yesterday, a map dealer by the name of E. Forbes Smiley III (you can't make up a name like that!) pled guilty to stealing almost a hundred rare maps. Thirty-two of the maps were stolen from the New York Public Library alone.

While no one was watching, the respectable-looking Mr. Smiley would cut the maps from antique books and hide them under his jacket or inside his briefcase. Over the years, he managed to abscond with more than three million dollars worth of materials, which he then sold to wealthy collectors around the world. It wasn't until a security camera at a Yale University library caught him in the act that Mr. Smiley's career as a thief came to an abrupt end.

Thankfully, most of the stolen maps will soon be returned to their rightful owners. The authorities have given up on only five of them, though Kiki Strike thinks she may know where they might be. Soon E. Forbes Smiley III will be hauled off to jail, and we can only hope that Dr. Lyle Mayhew will be following close behind him.

For more information on the case, check out this article from the New York Times.

If You Want to Win, Wear Red

A recent study by British scientists has revealed a fascinating fact. In sports, wearing the color red can give you a distinct advantage. The study clearly showed that when two teams or opponents are equally skilled, those in red athletic gear are more likely to win.

No one knows exactly why the color has this amazing effect, but the powers of red have long been recognized by a wide range of people, including bullfighters, feng shui masters, politicians, and the people who design stop signs. For centuries, it has been the color of power, passion, and danger. It’s even been scientifically shown to grab people’s attention, make their hearts beat faster and their blood pressure rise. Oddly enough, the color red is also known to make people hungry. (Think of it—how many fast food restaurants and junk food brands have red logos?)

So the next time you’re competing for something—whether it’s attention or a trophy—try adding a little red to your wardrobe. It couldn’t hurt. (After all, that’s why presidents wear red ties, certain street gangs love red bandannas, and most female villains sport huge ruby rings.)

For more information on the history and powers of the color red, click here.

New York is Being Eaten Alive!

When most people visit New York, they know to watch out for our legendary rats. And anyone who shrieks at the sight of a cockroach would be well advised to steer clear of Manhattan altogether. But these days, a long forgotten menace is once again threatening the greatest city on Earth. And it’s hiding where you’d least expect it. In your bed.

Until 2005, it had been decades since most New Yorkers had come across a bed bug. Then, last year, the creepy little bloodsuckers decided to stage a comeback. Carried into homes on pant legs and pets, they crawled into mattresses all over town and waited for nightfall. Soon, students in rundown apartments on the Lower East Side and socialites in Fifth Avenue mansions began waking up with the same red welts all over their bodies. Little specks of blood spotted their sheets and pillowcases. Within days, exterminators across the city had received thousands of frantic calls. One thing was clear: The people of New York were being consumed by bed bugs.

Some of the nastiest, most disgusting pests on the planet, bed bugs are tiny, flat insects that feed only on blood. Small enough to hide in the joints of bed posts and the seams of mattresses, they are almost impossible to kill. In New York, the problem has gotten so bad that many of our finest hotels are now infested, but other cities around the world are now beginning to show signs of similar bed bug epidemics.

For tips on winning the war against bedbugs, click here.
For more information, and some truly nasty photos, click here.

The Whistled Language

Most people believe that all languages have one thing in common—words. As usual, most people are wrong. There are several languages that contain no “words” at all. One is Silbo Gomero, which is spoken entirely in whistles.

A language invented by shepherds who lived on the Canary Islands off the coast of Spain, Silbo Gomero allowed the islands’ inhabitants to communicate across great distances. (It can even be heard from miles away!) When Spanish settlers arrived in the 17th century, they also adopted the language, and for centuries it could be heard from valley to valley.

In recent years, however, it looked as if Silbo Gomero might become extinct. But now the language is required learning for many children on the Canary Islands.

To hear a little Silbo Gomero, click here. Two more samples (along with English translations) can be heard here on the University of Washington's website.

Mongolian Death Worm

Stretching across much of northern China and southern Mongolia, the Gobi Desert is one of the least hospitable places on Earth. It’s hot, barren, and there are few places to pick up a slurpee. Home only to nomadic tribes and their hardy livestock, the Gobi is seldom visited by outsiders. (In fact, until the late 1980’s the communist governement didn’t allow visitors.) For this reason alone, it’s not unthinkable that a desert-dwelling animal might have escaped the scrutiny of modern science.

Ask most residents of the Gobi what creature terrifies them the most and you’re likely to get a single answer—the allerghoi khorkhoi or intestine worm. (So called because it resembles the intestine of a cow.) Though its never been captured on film, Mongolians describe the creature as two feet in length and several inches wide. It has no visible mouth or eyes. Not very frightening, you say? Well the Mongolian Death Worm boasts two special talents. It squirts a deadly, acid-like venom with remarkable accuracy and can release an electric shock powerful enough to kill a camel. Needless to say, it’s not very friendly.

For decades, Western travelers have heard tales of the allerghoi khorkhoi, and many have left the desert believers. But despite countless reputable eyewitnesses, many outside of the Gobi will refuse to believe the stories until the beast is finally filmed in action.

(Image by painter Pieter Dirkx)

Human Hobbits Discovered in Asia

2004 was certainly a banner year for freaks of nature. Only a few short months after Hogzilla’s untimely death, archaeologists working inside a cave on the remote Indonesian island of Flores came upon an unusual set of bones. They looked very much like the bones of an adult human being—with one exception. They were shockingly tiny.

For the past two years, scientists around the world have been battling over the true identity of the Hobbit Humans of Indonesia. (Named after the diminutive hobbits in the Lord of the Rings trilogy.) But despite the debate, one thing remains certain: Thousands of years ago, human-like creatures no larger than a modern three-year-old lived in the jungles of Southeast Asia, hunting pygmy elephants and dining on huge rodents. The question is—who were they?

The archaeologists who discovered the bones believe the three-foot-tall beings to be a previously unknown species of humans who may have lived alongside our distant ancestors. Other scientists claim that the bones belonged to a group of humans born with a genetic disorder than made their brains and bodies unusually small. However, stone tools too old to have been created by our ancestors were recently found in a cave on Flores, seeming to back up the argument that the Hobbits must have been a separate species.

Perhaps most intriguingly, some residents of Flores believe that the little creatures may not have disappeared thousands of years in the past. Island folklore tells of tiny men who, not long ago, lived in the dense, unexplored jungles and emerged from time to time to kidnap and eat a human or two.

Click here to see a National Geographic image gallery of the Hobbit Humans.
Click here to listen to an NPR radio story about the discovery.

Hogzilla on the Loose

In 2004, a freak of nature stepped out of the woods near Alapaha, Georgia, less than two hundred miles south of Atlanta. Fortunately, Chris Griffin was there to shoot it. When "Hogzilla" made his national debut, in photographs posted all over the Internet, many believed the story was a hoax. “Experts” around the world claimed the image was doctored, and many implied that Griffin was a liar.

Now, after two years and a little DNA testing, Chris Griffin has been vindicated. Hogzilla was exactly what Griffin claimed—a monstrous wild hog that stretched more than 8 feet long and weighed 800 pounds. (OK, Griffin exaggerated a little bit. He originally claimed the beast was 12 feet long and weighed half a ton.) Of course, for anyone sitting in safety on the fifth floor of a Manhattan apartment, this discovery is pretty exciting. But the problem, for anyone wandering the Georgia woods these days, is that Hogzilla might not be the only wild pig to be reckoned with.

You see, pigs are smart—extremely smart. They’re far smarter than dogs, cats, ferrets, or any other domesticated animal. As a result, wild pigs have managed to colonize every continent other than Antarctica. And when large, domesticated pigs escape from their pens, they often mate with the wild hogs nearby. The resulting offspring are huge, frighteningly intelligent, mean, and willing fight anyone for food. Hogzilla may have been the first monster roaming the swamps and forests of North America—but you can bet he won’t be the last.

Green Men are Everywhere

Looking for a way to amuse yourself while riding a city bus or strolling down the street? Try searching the buildings above your head for the Green Man. (Not to be confused with “Little Green Men.”) It doesn’t matter whether you’re in London, Paris, Buenos Aires, or New York—once you’ve spotted a Green Man, you’ll begin to see him everywhere. All over the world, he looks down from windows, watches over churches, and peeks out from garden walls. (The Green Man shown above once guarded a doorway in Argentina.)

Thought to be of Celtic origin, the mysterious Green Man is perhaps one of the most ancient deities in the Western world. Some Green Man carvings are more than a thousand years old. Usually depicted as a man’s face sprouting leaves or other vegetation (though there are a few Green Women, too), the Green Man represents the power and the presence the natural world. He comes in thousands of shapes and sizes, and his personality can range from jolly to severe.

Even on short walks through Manhattan, I’ve counted dozens of Green Men. Sometimes it’s a little creepy to spot him looking down at me. He’s hidden all over the city, but unless you have a sharp eye, you may never know he’s there.

Can YOU Hear It?

Did you know there are sounds that only young people can hear? As humans grow older, it seems, they lose the ability to hear some high-pitched tones.

According to Luz Lopez, not long ago, a company in Britain designed a new technology that was intended to rid malls and shops of unruly teenage crowds. The invention emits a high-pitched blast of noise that drives young people crazy, but doesn't bother nearby adults. (Sound familiar, anyone?)

Fortunately, the company's original plans appear to have backfired, and these days young people's auditory skills are once again working to their advantage. "Mosquito," a ring tone that makes use of the new technology can now be downloaded onto any cell phone. When the phone rings, young people can hear it, but adults (including parents, teachers, and random authority figures) cannot.

Hmmm. I wonder what you could do with that?

New York's Underground Rivers

A reader recently sent a note that reminded me of one of the most fascinating subjects I can think of: Manhattan’s underground rivers and streams. (If any other readers have interesting tidbits to share, please feel free do so!)

Over a century ago, before the island at the center of New York City was flattened and covered in asphalt, Manhattan was a fairly soggy place. Much of downtown was marshland, and dozens of creeks and small rivers trickled all over town.

As the city grew, ponds and swamps were drained, and New York’s streams were buried beneath its streets. But these “subterranean waterways” never dried up. They’re still there, flowing beneath our feet. (A good sign that you’re near one is the presence of a weeping willow tree.) There’s only one problem: very few people today know where they are. And if you start building on top of a forgotten spring, you’re going to end up with nothing more than a damp pile of bricks.

Fortunately, there’s a map that can tell you where to find all of Manhattan’s invisible waterways. Created by an engineer named Egbert Ludovicus Viele and first used in 1874, the “Sanitary & Topological Map of the City and Island of New York” (otherwise known as the Viele Map) has been the saving grace of countless developers. Over five feet long and remarkably detailed, it shows all the rivers, streams, and ponds that no one has seen in a over a hundred years. (Including Minetta Creek, which flows under the street pictured above!)

Click here for a closer look at the map or—if you have a spare $15,000—to buy a copy.

Hidden Manhattan

I want to introduce you to one of my favorite websites, Forgotten New York. The site is packed with fascinating information about the history of the city. You'll also find and photos of crumbling mansions, ancient stables, abandoned subway stations, little known cemeteries (make sure you check out the Marble Cemetery), and other secret places.

Icelandic Elves

I'm happy that there are still places in the world where strange and unusual beings are thought to exist. In Iceland, for instance, a high percentage of the population believes they share their country with elves—a race of tiny people who live in the rocky outcroppings that pepper the Islandic landscape.

In Iceland, elves are no joking matter. Roads are sometime diverted in order to avoid damaging their homes, and many reputable and reliable citizens claim to have had encounters with the wee folk. There’s even an Elf School, which teaches students to communicate with the many different types of elves and hidden people who populate the land.

A Ghost That Isn't Camera Shy

I’ve always been intrigued by the subject of ghosts. In fact, I guess you could say I’m a believer. But I’ve often wondered why more ghouls and specters aren’t caught on camera, especially these days when even cell phones can snap pictures.

So imagine how pleased I was a few years back when a very authentic-looking ghost was filmed at Hampton Court Palace in England. For weeks, the caretakers of the palace had been frustrated by a set of fire doors that were being flung open by an invisible force. Finally, a security camera captured the culprit. As you'll see in the video, it was a man dressed in old-fashioned (very old-fashioned) attire. The palace workers later swore that there was no such person on the premises at that time.

Some paranormal enthusiasts have boldly suggested that the ghost is King Henry VIII himself. After all, Hampton Court is said to house the ghosts of several of Henry VIII’s wives. But I would point out that the spirit in question looks quite svelte, while Henry was a bit of a porker.

Of course, there are also those who believe the video is merely a hoax. Watch the film for yourself, then take a look a this story from CNN, and feel free to draw your own conclusions.

It's Giant Squid Day!

While the Irregulars’ are waiting for the media frenzy surrounding Dr. Mayhew’s arrest to die down, I thought it would be a fabulous idea to share information on some of my favorite topics, starting with . . . giant squid.

I’m proud to say that I took the photo above. It’s a giant squid that was discovered (dead) off the coast of Japan, then frozen in a block of ice and exhibited in an aquarium in Australia. It was the first time I’ve personally come face-to-face with Architeuthis, and I have to say the experience was well worth waiting two hours in line beneath the unrelenting Australian sun.

Shortly before this picture was taken, Japanese scientists achieved what many had deemed impossible. They captured video images of a living, fully-grown giant squid attacking a piece of bait. Until last year, only dead adult Architeuthis had ever been discovered.

(You can see photos and video of the giant squid here.)

Those of you planning a trip to the beach should know that the elusive giant squid, which can reach 60 feet in length, is not even the largest squid in the ocean. That honor belongs to Mesonychoteuthis hamiltoni, the so-called “Colossal Squid,” which lives in the ocean depths surrounding Antarctica. In fact no one knows just how big the creature is able to grow. Only one dead specimen has ever been discovered intact.

DeeDee's New Boyfriend

(Sorry to tease, DeeDee)

On Friday, Dalton Noble finally emerged from his coma. His doctors say he’ll be fine, though it’s unlikely he’ll ever remember his days as a sticky-fingered zombie.

The first thing Dalton requested was a meeting with the girl who'd saved his life in the library. His parents, who would make excellent detectives, managed to track down DeeDee. Once Kiki assured her that the meeting wouldn’t compromise the Irregulars’ cover, DeeDee decided to drop by the hospital.

According to Betty, who went with DeeDee for moral support (disguised as DeeDee’s grandmother), Dalton and DeeDee hit it off immediately. (They do have an awful lot in common, I suppose.) And Betty seems to think Dalton is quite handsome. (She’s never been a good judge of such things, either!)

Dalton and DeeDee planned their first date for Thursday, when Dalton will be released from the hospital. I’d tell you what happens, but now that DeeDee knows how to whip up a zombie potion, I think I’ll try to stay on her good side and let her private life stay private.

Let's just hope Dalton never finds out why he glows at night!

Captured!

Dr. Lyle Mayhew was arrested at five o’clock this morning, just as the New York Times was being delivered to newsstands around the city. The contents of Mayhew’s diary are front-page news, and everyone’s talking about the mad scientist and his coed zombies.

Mayhew’s building has been evacuated for safety reasons, and I’ve been watching the NYPD and the FBI stream in and out all afternoon. DeeDee attended a press conference that was held this morning on the Columbia campus, and she says the authorities insist they’ll uncover the names of the people who were interested in purchasing Mayhew’s drug. They’ve also assured the citizens of New York that the maple syrup smell that has periodically engulfed the city since last October has not appeared to have any negative health effects. (Tell that to the Anorexic Chef!) And they’ve promised to return all of the books that were stolen from Butler Library.

As for the source of the information that led authorities to Dr. Mayhew, the NYPD is being typically tight-lipped. But some reporters are already suggesting that Kiki Strike may have played a part in the investigation. That means Irregulars will have to lay low for a while. Betty called a moment ago to say she’s already working on a new disguise for Kiki. I told her to take her time. I’m sure Kiki would agree that all of us could use a little rest.