The Unbelievable Truth - 03x03 China, The Postal Service, Moustaches, The Moon

Episode Date: October 8, 2021

03x03 6 April 2009 Graeme Garden, Chris Addison, Lucy Porter, Clive Anderson China, The Postal Service, Moustaches, The Moon

We present the unbelievable truth the panel game built on truth and lies in the chair, please welcome David Mitchell. Hello and welcome to The Unbelievable Truth. Half an hour of lies, damned lies and statistics. Except for the statistics. In the spirit of the game, please welcome four of the finest comedians in history. Clive Anderson, Chris Addison, Lucy Porter, and Graham Garden. Each of the panel will present a short lecture on a given subject that should be entirely made up, save for five pieces of true information which the panellist should attempt to smuggle past his opponents.

Points are scored by truths which go unnoticed, while other panellists can win points if they spot a truth, or lose points if they mistake a truth for a lie. We'll begin with Graham Garden. Graham, your subject is the country of China, officially the People's Republic of China, the world's most populous country and one of the oldest continuous civilizations. Fingers on buzzers, everyone else. Off you go, Graham. China's huge population is thought to be due to the Chinese practice in ancient times of using the lining of a cat's stomach as a condom.

This method was later refined when someone had the bright idea of removing the stomach from the cat first. But by then it was too late. When the Irish adventurer Mark Opolo arrived in 15th century China, he was delighted to discover exotic items like mints with holes in them. Garlic, football pools, spaghetti, even macaroni.

In fact, it's widely believed he took the recipe for pasta back to Italy where he was immediately caught on. Right. Pasta was brought back from China to Italy by Marco Polo. I'm confident that is a fact. So noodles and pasta are very similar, made out of the same sort of stuff.

Yes, that's absolutely right. Among the many things we take for granted in our day-to-day life, it may be surprising to learn that it was the Chinese who invented pop-tarts, the lottery rollover, focus groups and perforations. Chris? I'm going with perforations. Chris? I'm going with perforations. They invented paper, didn't they? You can perforate paper easily enough.

You certainly can. Can't you, eh? It's a short step from paper to perforations, is what I'm saying. I don't think, we don't know that they invented perforations. I don't know whether a perforation is actually an invent... Could you patent a perforation? You can patent a perforating machine. Yes, but not an actual perforation

because some perforations will occur naturally. Are you finding the word perforation a bit odd now? It's a lottery rollover they did. They, the lotteries, no. No. No, the Chinese did not invent the lottery rollover any more than they invented the perforation. But unlike perforations, lottery rollovers cannot occur naturally.

Great. But had perforations been readily available in 1393 when toilet paper was first introduced for the use of the emperor, the individual... Lucy. Oh, come on. What? Perforations, they did introduce toilet paper.

Yes, they introduced toilet paper and what Crane was going to go on to say is that the sheets that were introduced for the emperor in 1393 measured two feet by three feet. How big was this emperor? Or, you know... It's either in a very impractical sort of size

for a piece of toilet paper or one of the largest arsed men who ever lived. Maybe he straddled it and ran along it. Yes. I mean, we've all done it. Graham. Another Chinese invention is the colour beige. It was... It was previously known as peak.

The capital city takes its name from the beige dye makers of the area who specialize in dull pale brownish colors popular with the cardigan makers of Shanghai. Of course, trade with the West is completely one way, as China accepts no foreign imports at all due to obvious reasons combined with unforeseen problems. accepts no foreign imports at all due to obvious reasons combined with unforeseen problems. For example... For example, in China, the slogan, come alive with Pepsi,

was misinterpreted as Pepsi brings your relatives back from the dead. Lucy. Yes, that's absolutely true. Yes, that is absolutely true. Thank you. That's absolutely true. Yes, that is absolutely true.

And indeed, when Coca-Cola was first imported to China, the sound the word Coca-Cola makes means, apparently in Chinese, means either bite the wax tadpole or female horse flattened with wax. Now, the fact that it could be either or is yet another sign, along with the vast alphabet, that this is a language that doesn't really work. It needs a major rethink, I'd say. In all of China's vast population, there are only 17 surnames,

the commonest of these being Robinson. China is the only country where you can get jet lag on foot. If you stepped across the border from China to Afghanistan, you would lose three and a half hours. The Chinese people take great pride in the fact that the great... Go on, then. Afghanistan, three-and-a-half hours... You're absolutely right, yes. They...

Obviously, you wouldn't get any sort of tiredness like you get from being on an aeroplane. That's an exaggeration. But it's because all of China is in one time zone, so I need to be bloody minded. Jet lag means, though, is it? It simply means that your body clock is out of... Your circadian rhythms...

I'd say... ..are out of whack with your immediate surroundings. I would say... I don't understand it. I would say, Chris, that what jet lag means is a combination of the deracinating effect of the time zones changing and the fact of tiredness from travel.

It's that kind of talk that is why you're so successful with the ladies. There's loads of women going, oh! Can anyone else think of other synonyms for tiredness? Yeah, anyway. The Chinese people take great pride in the fact that the Great Wall of China is the only man-made structure on Earth from which you can see the moon. Thank you, Graham.

And, Graham, you managed to smuggle only one truth past the rest of the panel, and that is that in ancient Chinese culture, it was common for them to use the lining of a cat's stomach as a condom. How big is a cat's stomach, just to give me a rough idea? I... Normal size. Any tiger stomachs in Stuck there?

Mr. Condom Seller. Mr. Condom Seller. It's not a surname that ever really caught on, that, is it? They've only got 17 in China, apparently. That was not the most popular one, right? Probably if you say condom seller, it sounds like the Chinese for battering a cow with wax. Or the wax that is your aunt's butterfly.

Or maybe just Tizer. Anyway, that means, Graham, that you've scored one point. In ancient China, towns were often arranged in specific patterns so that if seen from the air, the whole community resembled an animal or a symbolic design. The city of Quanshenfu was built in the shape of a carp, and Wung Chun was laid out in the shape of a fishing net. It's also seen in British cities.

From the air, Middlesbrough looks like a giant turd. OK, we turn now to Chris Addison. Chris, your subject is the Postal Service, a system for the transmission of letters, packages and periodicals, both domestically and around the world. Off you go, Chris. Fingers on buzzers, the rest of you. The Postal Service was invented in 1752 by Arthur Philately, who was short of money and bored of his stamp collection.

The first fully functioning post office to open in England gets a prize. Post is traditionally not delivered on a Sunday because God doesn't like letters, as he finds them impersonal and no substitute for having a good old natter on the phone. Graham? Post is traditionally not delivered on Sundays. I'm simply contextualising God's attitude towards this post. I think I'm going to give Graham a point for that because post is traditionally not delivered on Sundays. I'm simply contextualising God's attitude towards this post. I think I'm going to give Graham a point for that,

because post is traditionally not delivered on a Sunday, and you did just sort of say that. No, it's part of the same clause. There's not even any piece of punctuation between that and the word Sunday and the word because. It doesn't make it part of the same clause, it makes it part of the same sentence. No, it is part of the same clause.

It isn't parenthetical in any way, it's not qualifying something that came before or after it, it is caus of the same clause. It isn't parenthetical in any way. It's not qualifying something that came before or after it. It is causally the same. If you'd gone, the reason why post is traditionally not delivered on a Sunday is that God doesn't like letters. I think you'd totally have got away with it. This is like In Our Time with Melvin Bragg, isn't it? Yes, I often use that to get asleep to.

I pass nine in the morning. You can do it on Listen Again. Are you telling me that people listen to In Our Time on Listen Again? When you do press Listen Again for In Our Time, it does say, Are you sure? Remember, you're listening to

this in your own time. Yeah. I tell you what I'll do. I'm going to go with my initial instinct. I'm going to give Graham the point. But don't feel bad about it, Chris, because I know there'll be a Daily Mail campaign against this. Yes.

And, um... So you'd expect my suspension and a grovelling apology from the Director General any day now. Oh, super. OK. The reason Post is not traditionally delivered on a Sunday is that... LAUGHTER ..God doesn't like letters, as he finds them impersonal. No substitute for having good old Nat on the phone.

Post, which does not carry the correct postage, is not delivered at all. Famously, Iraqi terrorist Khairan Jett didn't pay enough postage on a letter bomb. It came back with return to sender stamped on it. Forgetting it was the bomb, he opened it and died in the resulting explosion. Postmen are a naturally nervous species, and when anxious, they excrete small red rubber bands or posty cats. In 1974, the presidents of the Gabon and Equatorial Guinea had a bet that the latter would not put flying saucers on his country's stamps.

The president of Gabon be all like, you don't have the balls guy in it, and the president of Equatorial Guinea be all like, yo, don't step to me, man. He was as good as his word. Lucy. as his word lucy yes that was a delightful rendering of a presidential conversation i think that's true in it so you think well you think that conversation happened i think the bet happened no the bet didn't happen no no. No. Carry on, Chris. OK. He was as good as his word, and in 1975, Equatorial Guinea became the first country to depict flying saucers on its stamps.

Clive. Yes, they were the first country to put flying saucers on their stamps. That's absolutely right. Well done. The Kingdom of Bhutan issued a stamp which was actually a small record which played the Bhutanese national anthem. In response, Pakistan once issued a stamp in the shape of a star. Tonga once issued a stamp in the shape of a banana. And Australia...

Graham. Whatever Australia's going to do is right. Australia, since you ask, issued a stamp in the shape of a boomerang. This latter was recalled when all letters featuring it inevitably came back to their sender. Yes, now I'm afraid, as you may have inferred from that, that's not true. Postal rules were tightened up in the early 20th century. The US Postal Service declared it would no longer allow children to be sent by post, and legislation was introduced in Norway to prevent the steadily growing numbers of wooden postcards

fashioned and written by lumberjacks in the north of the country. Lucy? I once got a wooden Valentine's card. I'm just showing off. A wooden Valentine's card? But yeah, so I think that maybe somebody did make wooden postcards and they didn't like it. No, they didn't. No.

Sorry. But well done on the wooden valentine. Did you put out? Graham. No, I just wanted to make that clear. Sorry, Lucy's still boasting about her admire. No, I just wanted to make clear that I didn't put out. You didn't put out?

No. Was it on fire? I'm so sorry. No, I just wanted to make clear that I didn't put out. You didn't put out? No. Chris wasn't accusing me of being loose. Was it on fire? Sorry. No, it's a term for having sexual intercourse. Oh, well, that would explain why I wouldn't know it. No. But you didn't.

Sorry. Right. Clearing it up. It was essentially a waste of wood Graham buzzed subsequently did I? oh yes yes I think it was America who put an end to the appalling practice of posting children

yes you're absolutely right well done thank you Chris Yes, you're absolutely right. Well done. Thank you, Chris. So, Chris, you managed to smuggle three truths past the rest of the panel, which are that Iraqi terrorist Kay Ranajet did genuinely not pay enough postage on a letter bomb that came back to him because it had Return to Sender stamped on it, and he forgot it was a bomb, opened it and died.

He didn't seem to recognise his own handwriting. Maybe he'd sent off for something with tokens from the back of a cereal box. He was thinking, oh, at last, here comes my free bird watching. Kaboom! He probably thought, here's that child I ordered. Not all terrorists are also paedophiles. Given that the whole thing went up in an explosion, how do we know any of this is true?

The guy just blew up. You might as well say that about the universe. He might have just accidentally, you know, had a gas leak there. It's just a fantasy somebody's invented. I was quite happy. I thought it was quite a jolly story. Terrorism, death. Well, I thought four stories of terrorism and death,

and there are a lot of those around. It was one of the jollier ones. I would easily make it into the lighter side of terrorism book. Definitely. Anyway, as far as we know, it's true, but obviously it could just be someone putting a positive spin on a crater. The second truth you smuggled past the others is that the Kingdom of Bhutan issued a stamp

which was actually a small record which played the Bhutanese national anthem. And the other truth was that Tonga once issued a stamp in the shape of a banana. But that means, Chris, that you've scored three points. Right, now it's the turn of Lucy Porter. According to her biog, Lucy has written for everybody who's anybody in the comedy world. Well, that's not true. She's never written for me.

Oh, I see. Your subject, Lucy, is the moustache, the sprouting of facial hair commonly grown by men on their upper lips. Fingers on buzzers, the rest of you. Off you go, Lucy. Well, obviously I chose the subject of the moustache because I myself have a lavish upper lip growth. And I'm... Thanks for not buzzing. Excellent. I'm not the only woman to be proud of her lip warmer.

The A-new girls of Japan often added a tattooed moustache to their upper lip in the belief that it made them more attractive. And sure enough, it did, to gay men. Although Lord Kitchener of Khartoum was known for his savagery in the Boer War, he was actually a very soft man who hid mint humbugs and cough drops in his luxuriant moustache for children to find. OK. The Navajo Indian nickname for Hitler was Dagaili, meaning he smells his moustache.

Chris? I think the Navajo Indian thing might actually be true. That is absolutely true, that Hitler's nickname meant he smells his moustache. To a certain extent, all men with a moustache couldn't avoid smelling it. You've got to hope your moustache doesn't have a very strong smell. Or at least one you like. It would be bad if you didn't realise

that that was the smell that was annoying you. There's something around here. Wherever I go, I don't know what it is. Everything smells of hair. Stun the smell of hair! I must kill millions of people. I can't stand the smell of hair. I must kill millions of people.

They're all called hair in Germany, Mr Hitler. Hitler's moustache was naturally a light reddish blonde. He began dyeing it black on the advice of Unity Mitford, who warned him that if his invasion of Britain was successful, he would be ridiculed for being ginger as well as the whole one testicle thing. Many characters in great works of fiction have had facial hair in the original text that haven't made the leap to the cinema screen. In Bram Stoker's original Dracula, he had a moustache, Ian Fleming gave James Bond a goatee beard,

and Jane Eyre had a unibrow. Graham. I think Dracula had a moustache in the original. That's absolutely right. And he has only once been portrayed in a film with a moustache, though, and that was in a 1970s Spanish version of Dracula, but also played by Christopher Lee. That's a point to Graham. Carry on, please.

If you listen carefully to the 1972 London Philharmonic recording of Turandot you can hear Luciano Pavarotti splutter slightly as he chokes on his false moustache Conductor Zubin Mehta had to extricate the moustache with his baton At least two other opera singers are known to have completely swallowed their false moustaches while singing

Of the various laws in America about facial hair, in Iowa it's illegal to wear a moustache on your wedding day. In Alabama, it's illegal to wear a fake moustache that causes laughter in church. In Massachusetts, it's illegal to grow a moustache before the age of 25. Chris? I'm going to go with the Alabama church one. That's absolutely true. Well done.

Thank you, Lucy. And you managed to smuggle two truths past the rest of the panel, which are that A-new girls of Japan often added a tattooed moustache to their upper lip in the belief that it made them more attractive. It was what they did in order to announce that they're ready for a husband by sort of trying to look like one. And the other one being that at least two opera singers are known to have completely swallowed their false moustaches while singing.

So that means you've scored two points. And now it's the turn of Clive Anderson. When Clive hosted Clive Anderson All Talk on BBC One, the Bee Gees walked off the show, fed up at being ridiculed. It took 35 years, but they finally cracked. Your subject, Clive, is the show, fed up of being ridiculed. It took 35 years, but they finally cracked. Your subject, Clive, is the moon, the Earth's only natural satellite and the fifth largest satellite in the solar system. Off you go, Clive. Yes, when the Apollo 12 astronauts landed on the moon in 1969, the surface vibrated for very nearly an hour. How big is it? Well, if you imagine the

Earth as being as big as your head, then the moon will be the size of Oliver Reed's liver. Or to put it another way, if the Earth were the size of an orange, the moon will be the size of Oliver Reed's liver. Or to put it another way, if the earth were the size of an orange, the moon would be the size of a cherry. Or as we prefer, if the earth is a mug of tea, the moon is a skinny cappuccino. In the 18th century, Chris? I think the orange-cherry comparison stands.

That's absolutely right. Well done. Well spotted. In the 18th century, Erasmus Darwin, James Watt and Josiah Wedgwood were convinced the moon was made of green cheese. The three of them were members of the Lunar Society and were known as lunatics. But, of course, it was established in the 20th century by the writer David Niven that the moon is in fact a balloon.

Chris, sorry, I think they were members of the Lunar Society. They were members of the Lunar Society, well done. Yes, and they were also known... They were known as lunatics. They were a dining club who met during the full moon in Birmingham between 1765 and 1813. For a curry. Just go down Silly Oak, have a curry.

The moon's out, it's lovely. You can eat outside, smell the bus fumes. That is the... That's so like Erasmus Darwin. Great. Well, David Niven did write a book called The Moon's a Balloon. Yes. Does that count as a fact? Do you think he established the moon is in fact a balloon

by saying that my book is going to be called The Moon is a Balloon? Do you think he did that? Do you think he did that? Do you think? What do you think? Is this the lawyer in Clive Cummings? Is that what he used to do in court? Do you think he did that? Do you think he did that?

While he did write a book called The Moon's a Balloon, he in no way asserted that the moon was one. You're right. So, sorry. Well, he did. I mean, he wrote the sentence The Moon's a Balloon, which is an assertion. So if I write a book wrote the sentence, the moon's a balloon, which is an assertion. So if I write a book saying I'm the greatest person who ever existed,

that establishes that as a fact. I'm surprised you haven't already, Clive. I'd say that is not asserting that the moon's a balloon at all, but saying I am taking a quotation from a poem to make the title of my book. Fair enough. I withdraw. saying, I am taking a quotation from a poem to make the title of my book. Fair enough. It certainly can't be said. I withdraw. Well, now, the moon may sometimes look round, but it's in fact shaped like an egg,

and NASA scientists were worried it might really be an egg, and the shell might crack if a rocket hit it too hard, spilling its yolk and white all over the night sky. Now, of course, this is extremely fanciful. Obviously, if the moon were an egg, it would have to be a chocolate egg to fit in with all the other chocolate confectionery in the heavens, such as the Milky Way, Galaxy, and Mars. It is because of the danger of melting that these objects only come out at night. Talking of which, the Americans never really wanted to land a man on the moon in the first place, but set about building a huge film set in the Nevada desert, inside which a moon landing could be faked.

Nonetheless, nearly one in ten Americans believe that we never really landed on the moon. Lucy? I believe that Americans don't believe it. Well, it's not nearly one in ten that don't believe it. It's 27% of Americans don't believe it, so I'm afraid that's not true, what Clive said. But you're on the right lines with the Americans being idiots.

Well, they did go to the moon. Yeah, but that was probably... That was three of them. They're unlikely to be among those that disbelieve in the moon. It's easy to prove that we have land on the moon because there are three golf balls there, all of them clearly visible to the naked eye if you happen to be standing on the Great Wall of China.

Chris, there are three golf balls there. Yes, there are three golf balls there. Well done. Well done. The first use of the term mooning to mean exposing the buttocks, either as a joke or an insult, occurs in Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. What orb through yonder window shines, it is Mercutio mooning his behind.

At the time of the full moon, murder rates go up, as does the consumption of alcohol and the number of lottery tickets sold to women. Lucy. Yes. I feel murderous when I buy a lottery ticket. No, actually, murder is actually the only crime that does not increase during the full moon. Alcohol consumption goes down, but the chances of being bitten by a dog are twice as high,

according to a study at the Bradford Royal Infirmary. Thank you, Clive. Thank you. And, Clive, you managed to smuggle two truths past everyone else, and they are that when the Apollo 12 astronauts landed on the moon in 1969, the surface vibrated for very nearly an hour. Astronaut Pete Conrad is quoted on NASA's official site as saying, the entire moon rang like a gong, vibrating and resonating for almost an hour after the impact.

These vibrations have led geologists to theorise that the moon's surface is composed of fragile layers of rock. But essentially, it sounds like they landed on the moon and they nearly broke it. Can you imagine how pissed off everyone on Earth would have been? What have you done? Well, we went up, turns out it's like a poppadom. Stuck the flag in and it just went...

Oh, no, it's... Yeah, it's all in... It was a balloon, after all. David Niven was right. And the other truth is that although the moon might sometimes look round, it is in fact shaped like an egg. Although, I don't know, I mean, it's slightly egg-shaped, I reckon, slightly elongated with a pointed end facing towards the Earth

so we wouldn't be able to tell, because it's like the egg pointing at us. I was terrified delivering that particular fact because the sentence says, although the moon might sometimes look round, I thought you'd all be buzzing and say, yes, that's true, it does sometimes look round. Well, you were contextualising.

Yeah, it was your great advantage at that point that you couldn't buzz in. great advantage at that point that you couldn't buzz in. But Chris has been buzzing in all evening on the call. You two can decide later which is the greater pedant. I'm not so much a pedant, I sort of

split hairs. You are the Buzz Aldrin of this programme. Now, come on. One small joke for a man. One giant edit for the editor. But that means, end of that round, Clive, you've scored two points. Due to gravitational effects, we all weigh slightly less

when the moon is directly overhead. In fact, at the height of the full moon, Victoria Beckham actually starts levitating. One unlikely moon-based fact that Clive overlooked is that there is a crater on the moon called Birmingham. And coincidentally, Birmingham is also the name of a large hole in the Midlands. Which brings us to the final scores. In third equal

place, with minus two points each, we have Lucy Porter and Graham Garden. In second place, with three points, it's Clive Anderson. And in first place, with a massive, showy,, frankly, inappropriate eight points,

it's this week's winner, Chris Addison. That's about it for this week. All that remains is for me to thank our guests. They were all truly unbelievable, and that's the unbelievable truth. Goodbye. The unbelievable truth was devised by John Naismith and Graham Garden and featured David Mitchell in the chair with panellists Lucy Porter, Chris Addison, Clive Anderson and Graham Garden.

The chairman's script was written by Dan Gaster and the producer was John Naismith. It was a random production for BBC Radio 4.