Crossing the open farmland of southwestern Minnesota, you’ll encounter an otherworldly sight: a massive head with a beard, mustache and red-striped top hat looming over the horizon. Pull into the small town of Luverne — about 200 miles from Minneapolis — and a giant nutcracker dressed like Uncle Sam comes into view. The nutcracker — named Verne the Patriot — stands 65 feet 7½ inches tall, with the pedestal pushing it an additional 9 feet over the surrounding prairie. That’s almost twice the height of a 33-foot-tall nutcracker in Neuhausen, Germany, that Guinness World Records currently has ranked as the largest. Katie Walgrave, who runs a rock shop called Those Blasted Things, said since the nutcracker was completed in mid-June, her customers have quadrupled. A city committee came up with the idea of building the world’s tallest nutcracker, timing it to arrive as the nation celebrates its 250th anniversary. The nutcracker was several years in the making, with the pieces crafted in Utah and assembled in Luverne. The head and hat had to be lifted on with a crane to complete the structure. It cost around $600,000, and was funded by donations and grants.
Minnesota Town Now Boasts the World’s Tallest Nutcracker
Crossing the open farmland of southwestern Minnesota, you’ll encounter an otherworldly sight: a massive head with a beard, mustache and red-striped top hat looming over the horizon. Pull into the small town of Luverne — about 200 miles from Minneapolis — and a giant nutcracker dressed like Uncle Sam comes into view. The nutcracker — named Verne the Patriot — stands 65 feet 7½ inches tall, with the pedestal pushing it an additional 9 feet over the surrounding prairie. That’s almost twice the height of a 33-foot-tall nutcracker in Neuhausen, Germany, that Guinness World Records currently has ranked as the largest. Katie Walgrave, who runs a rock shop called Those Blasted Things, said since the nutcracker was completed in mid-June, her customers have quadrupled. A city committee came up with the idea of building the world’s tallest nutcracker, timing it to arrive as the nation celebrates its 250th anniversary. The nutcracker was several years in the making, with the pieces crafted in Utah and assembled in Luverne. The head and hat had to be lifted on with a crane to complete the structure. It cost around $600,000, and was funded by donations and grants.
Argentina Court Recognizes Two Goldfish As Sentient Beings With Rights
On the facade of a sushi restaurant in a chic Buenos Aires neighborhood, two goldfish in a glass display case would go largely unnoticed apart from the occasional child who would tap against the glass. One day, someone took a closer look at the tank — which was exposed to the sun and street noise — and it changed the fate of the pair of small fish, named Fede and Magui. “Anyone passing by and stopping to look could see it wasn’t suitable for the fish,” said Matías Trufero, an attorney for Jaulas Vacías, an ethical sanctuary that houses more than 200 rescued animals. The organization decided to file a lawsuit, arguing that conditions of the fish violated the law that prohibits animal abuse. "Having two fish in a glass display case is more or less the same as putting two polar bears in a cage inside a sauna,” said Carlos José Aga, one of the specialists who helped with the rescue and offered to adopt the fish. Magui and Fede were moved from their 10-gallon display case and into a 660-gallon fish tank at Aga’s house. The court ruled that the fish are “sentient beings” — meaning they’re capable of feelings — under the law and become beings with rights. The court specified that it’s not illegal to keep fish in a fish tank, but it is illegal to keep them in conditions that cause mistreatment or cruelty. In the end, the court ruled that Magui and Fede would remain in the care of their adopter.
The Japanese Snowball Fight Game Vying To Be An Olympic Sport
Yukigassen — which means “snowball fight” in Japanese — was invented in 1989 and is held every year in Sobetsu, a town on the main northern island of Hokkaido. The goal is to hit all seven players on the opposing team using perfectly spherical snowballs made with a special machine. The idea of turning Yukigassen into a sport was born out of a crisis in Sobetsu. While visitors once flocked to the town to enjoy its hot springs, the eruption of Mount Usu in 1977 brought tourism in the area to an abrupt halt. Looking for ways to put their town back on the map, residents had a flash of inspiration when they saw a group of tourists having fun during a snowball fight and thought, what if this children’s game could save the town? All that remained was to put rules down on paper, develop special helmets, and invent a machine to mold the snowballs. Keen to capitalize on the international expansion, officials want to turn Yukigassen into an Olympic sport. This year, more than 1,000 players came to compete in Sobetsu, but not a single foreign team was among the 118 entrants. To boost the number of registered players and try to win over the International Olympic Committee, the sport has had to step away from snow. Artificial snowballs have been developed so the game can be played in gyms or on the beach, turning a seasonal battle into a global sport playable year-round. Still, another major problem stands in the way of the Olympic dream: complex officiating that makes it difficult to train new referees. Eight referees watch each match, where 180 snowballs can be flying during a 3-minute set. Judging accurately is almost impossible. As long as that issue isn’t solved, it will be difficult to stake a claim for the Olympics.
Why Children In Japan Are So Independent
It’s a common sight on Japanese mass transit: children troop through train cars looking for seats. Kids as young as 6 or 7 are on their way to and from school, and there’s not a guardian in sight. That’s because parents in Japan regularly send their kids out into the world at a very young age. In fact, a popular television show called Hajimete no Otsukai (My First Errand) features children as young as 2 or 3 being sent out to do a task for their family. As they tentatively make their way to the grocery store or bakery, their progress is secretly filmed by a camera crew. The show has been on the air for more than 25 years. What accounts for this unusual degree of independence? According to Dwayne Dixon, a cultural anthropologist, it’s not self-sufficiency but “group reliance." Japanese youth learn early on that any member of the community can be called on to help others. This assumption is reinforced at school, where children take turns cleaning and serving lunch, instead of relying on staff to do it. Japan has a very low crime rate, which is surely a key reason parents feel confident about sending their kids out alone. By giving them this freedom, parents are placing significant trust not only in their kids, but in the whole community.
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