The Unbelievable Truth - 03x06 The Brain, Umbrellas, Alcohol, Cheese

Episode Date: October 8, 2021

03x06 27 April 2009 Fred MacAulay, Jack Dee, Will Self, Jeremy Hardy The Brain, Umbrellas, Alcohol, Cheese

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. Many of the things that we all believe to be true are in fact false. That eating turkey makes you sleepy, for example. In fact, what tires you out at Christmas is two hours of trying to smile politely through your grandmother's casual racism. Another urban myth is that alligators live in the sewers beneath New York City.

This is obviously untrue. They wouldn't stand a chance against the adolescent turtle mutants and their incomparable training in the Japanese martial arts. Here to mix fantastic truth with barefaced lies, please welcome the unbelievable Fred McCauley, the implausible Will Self, the far-fetched Jack D, and the highly unlikely Jeremy Hardy. What happens is this.

Each panellist will present a short lecture that should be entirely false, save for five pieces of true information, which they should attempt to smuggle past their opponents. Points are scored by truths that 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 Fred McCauley. Fred used to be an accountant in Scotland.

He was known for his tight control of finances and his scrupulous counting of every last penny. And he was also an accountant. Your subject, Fred, is the brain, the centre of the nervous system in all vertebrate and most invertebrate animals. Fingers on buzzers, everyone else. Off you go, Fred. That wonderful organ, the brain, starts working the moment you get up in the morning

and doesn't stop till you get into the office. And for those of you who just laughed at that little Robert Frost joke, I can tell you that the brainwave activity in your head... Well, it is a Robert Frost joke. It is a Robert Frost joke. Yes, well done. I can tell you, if you did laugh at that Robert Frost joke, the brainwave activity in your heads is now different from those of you who didn't. If you didn't laugh, your brain is wired differently, or perhaps you're German.

Copernicus believed that working on mathematical or verbal puzzles used to enhance brain activity, and he would often leave his astronomy to laugh that he'd done a 16th-century version of a crossword in the mornings, whereas musical genius Beethoven simply poured cold water over his head to try to achieve the same kick-start to his day. It's true about Beatty, not Copernicus. It is true about Beethoven.

Beatty. Beatty. I don't... Respect for the man, Beatty. I don't... Respect for the man, Beatty. I don't know Beethoven as well as you, so I feel over-familiar calling him Beatty. We are like solid, me and Beethoven. Yes, he did used to pour cold water over his head,

or some people say immerse his head in a bucket of cold water, and some people think that's why he went deaf, because he didn't dry his hair properly afterwards. That's only his mum who said that. Which was mean of her to taunt him with his affliction. The advantage of being deaf, though, is that taunting isn't very effective on you. Sticks are quite effective.

I'm not recommending that. His mum would moan on about him not drying his hair. You go deaf, you go deaf, you go, I'm looking forward to it, mother. After he'd skinned a raccoon for a hat, the North American Davy Crockett used to feed the raw raccoon brain to his dogs, copying a Native American ritual which would give his dogs a better understanding of other wild animals.

That's true. Eating brain does give you more understanding of other wild animals. I think Davy Crockett believed that. No, he didn't. Did Native Americans believe it? I don't think so. Is it true? No. I made it up. I should also tell you there are some further lies ahead.

When he tried a mouth... Not immediately, though, perhaps. When he tried a mouthful himself, he accidentally discovered the vomit centre, that part of the brain which tells you to lean forward and open your mouth just before you throw up. Well. It does.

Yes, it does. Yeah, well done. Amazing. For those of you that don't know, if you imagine your brain as Reading City Centre, the vomit centre is just where Yates's wine lodge is. LAUGHTER The common cartoon of someone having a lightbulb over their head The vomit centre is just where Yates' wine lodge is. The common cartoon of someone having a lightbulb over their head when they think of something new or clever isn't so far from the truth,

as the brain generates enough electricity to power a 25-watt bulb. That's true. Yes, that is true. Well done. I mean, I know it's true, because I don't, you know, to save energy and save the planet, I don't have any light bulbs. I just get home and stick a couple of electrodes in my skull. And that's how I write at home, to the light of my own brain.

It's like... And the better the ideas are, the easier it is to see the page. The easier it is to see the page. And when you can't see the page at all, it doesn't matter, because you'd be writing crap by that stage. Thanks to new technology, Equity, the actors' union, weighed the heads of the cast of a West End theatrical production for insurance purposes, and it was found that the actor

Brian Blessed's brain was the lightest of the whole cast, and it's thought that he, like others who have small ratio brains, shout as a way of compensating for their small brains. That's true! There's something very convincing about the way you interjected there. I feel I believe you, but no. Since turning

35, I've lost my car keys twice, my Cockney accent and four million brain cells. But it's okay, I've lost my car keys twice, my Cockney accent, and four million brain cells. But it's OK, cos I've got another 16 million, which should see me through till I'm about 80. Jeremy. I think you have lost four million brain cells since you were 35. You lose about four million every day, don't you?

I will have lost about 44 million. We didn't know how old you were, did we? Actually, after the age of 35, we lose 7,000 brain cells a day, which means that on the basis that Fred is now 52, he will have lost nearly 44 million brain cells since the age of 35, so he's practically a simpleton before us. I think that's unnecessary. I'm not sure.

That's the end of Fred's bit. Thank you very much. At the end of that round, Fred, you've smuggled one truth past everyone else, which was that the brainwave activity in humans changes when we catch the punchline of a joke. Which means you've scored one point. Another little-known fact is that a shot of electricity to certain areas of the brain

has been proven to revive lost memories, such as the memory of what happened the last time you stuck your finger in an electricity socket. OK, we turn now to Jack D. Jack once fronted a popular advertising campaign for John Smith's beer, after which he was known for a time as the midget with the widget. Could be why he later turned down a campaign for anchor butter. Jack, your subject is the umbrella, a device for protection from the weather, consisting of a collapsible, usually circular canopy mounted on a central rod.

Off you go, Jack. Fingers on buzzers, the rest of you. The ancient Egyptians were the first to use umbrellas, having got the idea when the boy pharaoh, Tutankhamun, used an incredibly thin servant wearing a huge round hat to keep the rain off him. Well? I think they were the first to use umbrellas that we know of. Don't think they were.

Bums. No, sorry. The servant, Tut Umbrella, known to his friends as Broly, liked his job but disliked being turned upside down and used as a walking stick in dry weather. Despite indisputable evidence to the contrary, umbrellas were not introduced in Britain until the mid-18th century, when they caused consternation amongst London cabbies, who saw them as a direct threat to their business.

Well? I think they were introduced in the mid-18th century. They were. Absolutely. Well done. Jeremy? Is that also true about cabbies? in the mid-18th century. They were, absolutely. Well done. Jeremy. Is that also true about cabbies? Yes, it is. Yeah, fantastic. Jeremy. Is the next thing Jack has said true?

No, it isn't. You lose a point. Bad luck there. Oh, that's harsh. That's harsh, isn't it? That's like a thought crime, isn't it? You're like some hideous fascist up there, aren't you? Yeah, all right, all right. I won't take away a point for the thought crime.

OK. But, yes, they were introduced in the mid-18th century from Persia by Jonas Hanway, and were called Hanways as a result. Yes, amongst London cabbies who saw them as a direct threat to their business, so into the fact that umbrellas were happy to go south of the river after six o'clock. By the 19th century in England, anything other than a blue or green umbrella was considered vulgar for a gentleman to be seen with.

He should also never open his umbrella in the presence of a lady, as this was thought to be suggestive of phallic growth and could cause her to faint. Well, what kind of phallic growth and could cause her to faint. Well, what kind of phallic growth? I mean, the end of your penis doesn't turn into an enormous efflorescence. You speak for yourself. Everyone keeps buzzing, but the first person to buzz was Jeremy. Do you think the phallic growth thing that Will found so laughable was true?

Yeah. Well, it isn't. OK. I withdraw that comment, then. Too late. No need to withdraw it. It's fine. It's just part of the game.

It's all tremendous fun. Jack. Furthermore, he should never carry the brolly under his arm like a rolled-up newspaper. Instead, he should stride along with it, grip firmly around the middle, always with the handle turned toward the ground, the way David does. In the early 60s, the impresario Lou Grade came up with the idea for a character called Steed

after seeing a bowler-hatted gent fight off two attackers in Savile Row with a pristine umbrella that was, in fact, a sword. Amazingly, just then, a very fast car pulled up and a beautiful woman in a leather catsuit jumped out and karate kicked a third assailant straight through a shop window. When Grade went to ITV to pitch his exciting new programme, he was told that what he in fact had witnessed

was the filming of their cult television series The Avengers. During the Cultural Revolution in China umbrellas were seen as dangerously intellectual and banned by Mao Zedong. Will. I think that's true. No, no, it's not true.

But it seems very plausible, doesn't it? Yeah, it does, doesn't it? I mean, pretty much everything was too intellectual... Everything was banned. ...at one point. He's kicking himself now, if he was still alive. Why didn't I ban them? They were useful.

People liked them. Why didn't I ban them? And then they said, don't be too hard on yourself. Millions still died, I know, but I missed a few. Some of them could have got wet before they died.

I only say it because it's well known that he banned pack-a-macks during the Cultural Revolution. Pack-a-macks? Yeah. I think there's more reason for banning pack-a-macks though, they're so clammy. Not if you wear clothes as well. That's what they want me to do.

Possession of even a small umbrella, like the kind you get in cocktails, could result in imprisonment, or worse still, being paraded around town on a rainy day with a sound dry under your neck that read, Look, I am bourgeois pig without umbrella. Please laugh at me. In Hibbing, Minnesota, there is an umbrella museum

which was once visited by Jimmy Carter. True. Well, no. Oh, it just gets worse. Bob Dylan's from Hibbing, Minnesota, and he loves umbrellas. That's why I chose it. Also, apropos of an earlier remark of yours, Jack,

you don't put umbrellas in cocktails, you put parasols in cocktails. No, you put very small replicas of parasols. If you put a parasol in a cocktail, it would fall over. No, I've... Jack. Yes. Today, the Italians are the world's largest manufacturers of umbrellas.

Will. That's true. No, it's not. Bah! No. Sadly, this success has not been without its scandal, and in 1969, one Italian was charged with selling grated umbrella handles as parmesan. Thank you, Jack.

So, Jack, at the end of that round, you managed to smuggle three truths past the rest of the panel. And they are that in the 19th century, only silk umbrellas were considered fashionable by the British upper class, and these only if they were blue or green. Astonishing.

It is astonishing. In fact, army officers were so much taken by these blue and green umbrellas that they used to try and take them into battle, and the Duke of Wellington had to issue an order telling him not to take umbrellas into battle, but presumably instead guns. The second truth was that in 19th century England it was considered vulgar to hold an umbrella under one's arm.

You had to grip it. Well-bred people gripped it in the middle and then with the handle turned towards the ground. And in 1969, an Italian was charged with selling grated umbrella handle as Parmesan cheese. So that means, that means, Jack, you scored three points. The Chinese were the first people to waterproof umbrellas almost 4,000 years ago.

Genius. And yet they missed the knife and fork. Right, it's now the turn of Will Self. Your subject, Will, is alcohol, which in beverage form is an intoxicating drink containing ethanol that's typically divided into three classes, beers, wines and spirits. Fingers on buzzers, the rest of you. Off you go, Will. I admire alcohol from afar.

A couple of years ago I was stopped by the police for driving erratically and asked when I last had a drink. I answered October 25th, 1999. The governor of Moscow in the time of Peter the Great of Russia... Jeremy. I believe that. Yes, that's absolutely true.

The governor of Moscow in the time of Peter the Great of Russia was keener than I. He trained bears to serve alcoholic drinks to his guests. Ivan the Terrible was still less abstemious. He boiled his enemies to death in a vat of muscatel wine, then served the dregs to the guests at a royal banquet. Many years ago, English pub-goers had a whistle baked into the rim or handle of their ceramic cups.

When they needed a refill, they used the whistle to attract the barman. This inspired the phrase, wet your whistle. Fred? We must be stumbling across a truth. Well, which is it? Which is it, Nan? Buck up. I'll go for the whistle in the jug. That's true. Well, which is it? Which is it, Nairn? Back up. I'll go for the whistle in the jug. That's

true. Well done. What I think it'd be worth saying at this point, in order to stop there being too many letters, is that that's one of the things people think might be where wet your whistle comes from, but other people think that the whistles were baked into the pots because of

the phrase already existing it's not true though do you know that yeah i've watched i've watched antiques roadshow for years i've never seen one of those come up i've never heard of it many things exist that haven't come up in the antiques roadshow well i don't i don't agree it's been going long enough for everything to have been on it you think it's been going on long enough for every object on Earth? Yes. To have been, how many did they do a week? It's been going so long that it used to be called Tomorrow's World. Of all animals, insects have the most insatiable desire for the hard stuff.

Studying pissed-up ants in 1888, the naturalist John Lobbock noticed that those that had too much to drink were picked up by nest mates and carried home. Conversely, drunken ants who were strangers were summarily tossed in a ditch. The popular television actor

David Jason has a praying mantis called Ethel that he's trained to drink champagne from a tiny replica glass. It was believed that our own planet was the only place in the universe where alcohol naturally occurs, until, using mass spectrometry, astronomers established that the rings of Saturn are largely alcoholic, while there is a cloud of alcohol in outer space containing sufficient booze to mix four trillion trillion drinks. It's free for the taking, but it seems unlikely that anyone will ever knock it back given that the cloud is 10,000 light years away from Earth.

Still, that hasn't stopped Alan Beavis of Gateshead, who has built his own space probe in his back garden and who aims to blast off in 2016 together with two of his mates for the longest booze cruise ever. NASA scientists have examined Mr. Beavis' probe, which is called Hazel Bliers 1, and pronounced it surprisingly fit for purpose. I wish Mr Beavis luck and salute his desire to not only admire alcohol from afar, but die aiming for complete immersion. Thank you.

Thank you, Will. So, Will, you managed also to smuggle three truths past everyone else, which are that the governor of Moscow in the time of Peter the Great did train bears to serve alcoholic drinks to his guests, that studying the experimentally induced intoxicated behaviour of ants in 1888, naturalist John Lubbock noticed that the insects that had too much to drink were picked up by nest mates and carried home while the drunken stranger ants were tossed in a ditch. That's all true. And the third truth is that there is a cloud of alcohol in outer space with enough alcohol in it to make four trillion trillion drinks. Only 10,000 light years away.

I think it's called heaven. So, Will, that means you've scored three points. Thanks. So, Will, that means you've scored three points The shallow champagne glass is rumoured to have been designed by Napoleon himself Inspired by the shape of Josephine's breasts Josephine was later replaced in his affections By the woman who gave him the inspiration for the pint glass It's now the turn of Jeremy Hardy

Jeremy is one of the most famous comedians of the 20th century, known particularly for his long-standing double act with British-born comic actor Stan Laurel. Thank you, Wikipedia. Your subject, Jeremy, is cheese, a solid food prepared from the pressed curd of milk, usually the milk of cows, buffalo, goats or sheep, which is often seasoned and aged.

Off you go, Jeremy. For gourmets, the king of cheeses is the mini baby bell. It is not only the most delicious, but also the most versatile of cheeses, occasionally taken orally, but more often in suppository form. The other famous cheeses are terracotta, fettid, Yorkshire grey, M&M, dolce vita, palm olive andelbert Humperdinck. My favourite is Primula cheese spread, which is made by leaving toothpaste in the sun. Jack?

I'm suggesting that Jeremy's favourite cheese is Primula cheese spread. No. Well, of course, you can say that, can't you? Even if it is is you can still yeah but it has to be on a matter of public record i suppose i mean you don't do a lot of those kind of what's your favorite cheese style interviews that i'm aware of no do you i don't get asked i'd do them if i was up would you yeah with what's my cheese would you do what's my drawing pin? Would you do that? What's your drawing pin, Will, out of interest?

Just basic drawing pin, no frills. No, I don't like those ones with the little coloured plastic bit on the end for cork boards. I think they suck, actually. Or the ones with the sort of elongated end. Yeah, no, I really don't like that. And what's more, if I had my way, I'd have a pog room against people who use them and expel them from our country, because they're a rot. A lot of people think that.

So, fair point. The Dorset Cheese Blue Vinny was named after a famous pornographer in Lyme Regis. It is the hardest substance known to man. Jewellers cut diamonds with it, swans use it to break people's arms. On one famous occasion, it was used to replace a defective wheel on a train. And in 2006 three people were slightly hurt when a blue Vinnie hit a car during the traditional cheese rolling festivities at Corfe Castle. Well, it's true.

What is? They were hit by a blue Vinnie in their car. No, that's not true. Bum! No. In fact, cheeses have a range of practical uses. Grated parmesan is used as dandruff in shampoo commercials.

The Royal Navy at one time issued all sailors with blue cheeses in their food rations as an early form of antibiotic to fight bacterial infection. Jack. That is true. No, it isn't. But I like the way you said, that is true. Now, that is true. I, it isn't. But I like the way you said, that is true.

Now, that is true. I nearly lost all confidence. That is true, actually. So I've been in the Navy. And edam was used as cannonballs by the Uruguayan Navy in 1841 in a sea battle with Argentina. And as evidence of how long cheese keeps, in 1956, explorers in the Antarctic found tinned edam

that was still edible and had been left behind. Will. That's true. Yes, that is true. Yes, well done. They found tinned edam that was still edible and had been left behind by Captain Scott in 1912. It's not particularly surprising,

because that is cheese that is both tinned and frozen. In 1987, a 1400-year-old piece of cheese was dug up in Ireland and found to still be edible, or at least much nicer than a brand new bit of Cathedral City. And a packet of cheesy Wotsits

has a half-life of 20,000 years. For centuries, cheese was seen as an unnatural, adulterated food. The Puritans believed it was an indulgence and even a satanic corruption of mother's milk. Some cheesemakers were burnt at the stake while jeering crowds threw bits of bread at them, thus inventing fondue.

Today, the Mormons in Salt Lake City forbid the eating of cheese before church. Sure about the Mormons in Salt Lake City forbid the eating of cheese before church. It's true about the Mormons. No, it's usually true about the Mormons. So it was a good buzz. Because, you know, they believe anything, don't they? Angel Moroni digging up gold tablets. Native Americans are Jews.

They believe any old cobblers. They will essentially forbid anything. Yeah, they'll forbid anything. Spin the bottle, forbid the thing it points at. They believe any old cobblers. And they will essentially forbid anything. Yeah, they'll forbid anything. Just randomly spin the bottle, forbid the thing it points at. They forbid pence. Forbid what? They forbid pence.

You're not allowed to wear pence if you're a Mormon. I can't get around your pronunciation. No. Pence. I'm struggling with that. That's a Salt Lake City accent you're doing there. Yeah, maybe. All right, press on, Jeremy.

Okay. Humiliate press on, Jeremy. OK. Humiliate me further. OK. And in Tampa Bay, Florida, it is illegal to eat cottage cheese after 6pm on a Sunday. The most important development in the history of cheese was the individually wrapped cheese slice. Before that, cheeses had to be swallowed whole. Because of the difficulty involved in cutting them with a knife or grating them with some kind of grating device,

which might be invented in the future and perhaps called a cheese grater. Because of these difficulties, cheese has almost no culinary uses, the exception being cottage cheese, which is fried with onions and baked under a layer of mashed potatoes. Fred. I think it is illegal to eat cheese after 6pm in Tampa. Too bloody late! I finished! Sorry, Jeremy, I'm just thinking about that.

Jeremy, what do you think? Do you think that was too late? I finished! I got to the end! No, because I was wondering what your opinion was. Because what I often do when someone buzzes late is I'll have to think about it. And then maybe I'll go to someone for their opinion. So I was wondering, Jeremy, just be honest. What do you think? Do you think he buzzed too late or is it all right when he buzzed?

You can go back to it now that I've smuggled so many through, randomly pointing out that some of them must be true. So to clarify... I'm in a cheese coma. I'm in a cheese coma! I'm in a cheese coma! I've done magnificently well smuggling four past you and you just can't face it, Jock, can you?

So... With your chippy fake sense of colonial oppression despite the fact you were the foot soldiers of the Empire. Let it out! Let it out, Jeremy! So, on balance, Jeremy, shall I give shall I give Fred the benefit of the doubt there, or do you think

he buzzed just a little bit late? Give him a point. I think he buzzed a little bit late, actually, but that's very sporty of you. Sorry, Fred, I think Jeremy was all for giving you the point, but I think he buzzed a little bit late. No, I don't want the point. I think I came in a bit late.

Just my opinion, obviously. It's just lovely when everyone's so sporting like that. Anyway, thank you, Jeremy. So, yes, Jeremy, you managed to smuggle four truths past the rest of the panel. One of them actually was spotted subsequently by Fred. I don't know if anyone picked up on that, but the consensus was that he'd probably buzzed a little bit late.

And that is that you can't eat cottage cheese after 6pm on a Sunday in Tampa Bay, Florida. Obviously, I don't suppose many people are sent to prison for that. The other truths are that in 1987 a 1400-year-old lump of still-edible cheese was unearthed in Ireland, and someone actually sampled a piece and described the taste as

unpleasing though not revolting and similar to Wensleydale and the other truths are that the Uruguayan Navy won a sea battle using Edam cheeses as cannonballs apparently during the Uruguayan Civil War. And the last one being that on one famous occasion, according to Dorset legend, blue Vinny cheese, which has a very tough skin, was used to replace a defective wheel on a train. I have to say, I think your local sort of culinary traditions are revealed as somewhat feeble

when the best thing you can say about a local food is that it was once used to repair a train. But that means, Jeremy, you've scored four points. Britain has 700 different types of cheese, and if you include Dairy League Triangles, 700. Which brings us to the final scores. In fourth place, with minus one point, we have Fred McCauley.

In third place, with no points, it's Jack D. In second place, with one point, it's Jeremy Hardy. And in first place, with an unassailable two points is this week's winner, Will Self. 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 divided by John Naismith and Graham Garden and featured David Mitchell in the chair with panellists Jeremy Hardy, Fred McCauley, Jack Dee and Will Self. The chairman's script was written by Dan Gaster and the producer was John Naismith.

It was a random production for BBC Radio 4.