Loading summary
Erin Manke
This is an iHeart podcast.
Capital One Bank Guy
Banking with Capital One helps you keep more money in your wallet with no fees or minimums on checking accounts and no overdraft fees. Just ask the Capital One Bank Guy. It's pretty much all he talks about in a good way. He'd also tell you that this podcast is his favorite podcast too. Oh really? Thanks Capital One Bank Guy. What's in your wallet? Terms apply. See capital1.com bank Capital One NA member FDIC.
Erin Manke
Welcome to Erin Menke's Cabinet of Curiosities, a production of iHeartRadio and Grim and mild.
Aaron Manke
Our world is full of the unexplainable. And if history is an open book, all of these amazing tales are right there on display, just waiting for us to explore. Welcome to the Cabinet of Curiosities.
Erin Manke
Nightingale, Lark, Falcon, Crow, Snipe, Loon, Seagull, Heron, Turtledove, Magpie. What do these birds all have in common? Well, here's a hint in the form of a the cuckoo then on every tree mocks married men, for thus sings he cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo. That's right, all these birds appear in the works of William Shakespeare, which is perhaps a fancy way of saying that they were all common knowledge in Elizabethan England. Throughout the Bard's works, birds are a flexible metaphor, their symbols for pining love for men and women behaving like fools for the devastation wrought by war. More than 60 species of birds come up this way. Romeo and Juliet famously argue over the call of a nightingale or a lark, an argument that stands for the fear that dawn has come and Romeo must flee for his life. Over the years, Shakespeare's work has been viewed through various cultural lenses and experienced growing pains when it traveled from England to America. As the new cultural identity of the United States emerged, British actors looked down on Americans trying to perform the Bard's greatest works. Different acting styles emerged, and arguments within the theatrical world began that continue to this present day. But did you know that Shakespeare's influence on the New World was a little more than cultural? There was even an environmental impact as well. In 1890, 51 years after the Macbeth inspired Astor Place riots that we've already covered on this show, a man name Eugene Schoeflin stepped out into New York's Central Park. As the story goes, he was a huge fan of William Shakespeare and also an amateur ornithologist. This man just loved birds, and when he traveled to Central park that day, he brought with him 60 European starlings that he had imported. With some help, you see, he was an influential member of the American Acclimatization Society, a group that sought to introduce European flora and fauna to America. They had previously introduced European sparrows and blackbirds to Central park and were eager to see how successful starlings would be. Shefalin first released 60 starlings and then came back with 40 more. They eagerly found home amongst the hollows in the trees, muscling out the other birds. Unlike attempts to introduce the nightingale, bullfinches and skylarks, this one was a success, for better or for worse. Over the following decades, the United States realized that as a group, starlings were something of a menace. They proliferated madly across the country, eventually reaching a population of 200 million in the US alone. And when commercial aviation took off, starlings were their biggest problem. The most deadly bird strike of all time occurred in 1960, when starlings brought down an airplane as it took off the from Boston. Despite their size, their bodies are extremely dense, making them a hazard for aircraft of all types. And damage they do to farmers. Crops numbers in the billions of dollars. Stealing grain and produce experts have pointed out that declining numbers of woodpeckers and bluebirds could be attributed to how many starlings live in the continental U.S. whether this is true or not, the result is a startling one. European starlings are one of the few bird species that are unprotected by law. Hunters and trappers can kill as many as they like without consequence, as could farmers who want to protect their crops from these creatures. Of course, they're so small that they evade most natural predators. And the same is true for human hunters. They're just too little and too many to fully control. And all of this because of Shakespeare. And a single line in Henry Ivan, Part 1, Act 1, Scene 3. In this scene, one of the characters reflects on the king's attitude toward one of his enemies. And I quote, he said he would not ransom Mortimer. Forbade my tongue to speak of Mortimer, but I will find him when he lies asleep, and in his ear I'll hallow Mortimer. Nay, I'll have A starling shall be taught to speak nothing but Mortimer and give it to him to keep his anger still in motion. And it makes you wonder if Shakespeare had not chosen this particular metaphor for the rant, the entire landscape of North America might be different. It feels like in discussing the trajectory of the European starlings, we've discovered a new version of the butterfly effect. Maybe we should call it the starling effect. Now that's something that would be worth writing a play about.
Capital One Bank Guy
Banking with capital. One helps you keep more money in your wallet. With no fees or minimums on checking accounts and no overdraft fees. Just ask the Capital One bank guy. It's pretty much all he talks about in a good way. He'd also tell you that this podcast is his favorite podcast too. Oh, really? Thanks. Capital One Bank Guy. What's in your wallet? Terms apply. See capitalone.com bank capital1NA member FDIC with.
American Express Representative
Amex Gold, you can make dining out before the big event a big event.
Erin Manke
Hey, you made it. It's been so long.
American Express Representative
And earn four times membership rewards points on purchases at restaurants up to $50,000 per year. And if you're running late, no problem.
Aaron Manke
Oh, we gotta go.
American Express Representative
You get access to card member entrances at select venues so you can make it in time to catch the big win. That's the powerful backing of American Express. Card number entrance access not limited to AMEX Gold. Card terms apply. Learn more@americanexpress.com withamex.
Erin Manke
In 1955, Soviet newspapers were awash with stories on the future of space exploration. Humankind was not destined to remain on Earth, they insisted. Our future lay in the stars. And the charge into that great unknown would be led not by the west, but by but by the Russians. And cementing these bold proclamations was a somewhat mundane development. Moscow had just approved the formation of a new commission to study interplanetary space. In other words, nothing had been built yet. The science still had to be done, but the Soviet Union was ready to spend the rubles to make it happen. The news was picked up by the American media sources, setting off alarm Browns in Washington, D.C. in July, the Eisenhower administration announced plans to launch a satellite into orbit by 1958. And thus the spark had been lit. Thrusters primed and ready, all systems go. The space race had begun. But here's the thing. Those Soviet articles that stirred the US into action, they were a lie, or at least a massive exaggeration. The man behind them was a scientist named Sergei Korolev, who had spent the last decade building missiles for the Soviet Union. Korolev was convinced that his rockets had greater purposes than just blowing people up and had recently lobbied the Soviet government to create a satellite program. The response had been lukewarm at best. Moscow wasn't interested in throwing away money on science without a clear military purpose. But Korolev wasn't ready to give up. He rewrote the proposal for a less expensive program and then got to work drumming up enthusiasm. He put out speculative articles that first got Russians and then Americans hyped about the possibilities of space travel. Then, when Washington took the bait, Korolev knew his gambit had paid off. Soviet leadership reversed course, embracing the program that he had asked for. And suddenly he had everything he needed. Permission, funding and the authority to move forward. And move forward he did. Korolev personally oversaw the design and construction of the world's first artificial satellite, Sputnik 1. The polished metal sphere, equipped with four antennae, was small, simple and built in record time. On October 4th of 1957, it was launched into orbit with an R7 intercontinental ballistic missile, the first rocket of its kind engineered by Korolev himself. The launch of Sputnik ignited a frenzy in the west, spurring the US Government to accelerate its own space program. Meanwhile, Korolev's bosses in Moscow were over the moon, no pun intended, with his splashy success, and gave him the green light for even more ambitious projects. Korolev didn't let the momentum go to waste either. Just a month after Sputnik 1, he launched Sputnik 2, carrying the first living passenger into orbit, a dog named laika. Then, in 1961, he achieved the unthinkable. He put the first human, Yuri Gagarin, in into space, aboard the Vostok one. Every major Soviet space milestone of the era bore his fingerprints. Yet despite all he had done for the Soviet Union, Moscow kept the identity of Sputnik's creator a secret until after his death. Almost like they were ashamed of their greatest rocket scientist. And maybe they were. You see, at the time Korolev started his space program, he was technically a political prisoner. In 1938, during Stalin's purges, he was arrested on falsified charges of anti Soviet activities and sent to the Gulag, where he nearly died of malnutrition and abuse. Only the desperate need for missile engineers during World War II saved his life. He was quietly pulled from the camps and forced to work under strict supervision, designing weapons for a regime that had nearly killed him. Even after his later rehabilitation, Korolev remained under constant surveillance, unable to travel abroad or even be publicly named as the leader of the Soviet space program. But there was an even more damning reason Moscow might have wanted to keep his identity under wraps. One that undermines the Soviet Union's early claim to superiority in the space race, because the man who created Sputnik didn't even call the Soviet Union home. That's right. Sergei Korolev wasn't Russian. He was born in Ukraine.
Aaron Manke
I hope you've enjoyed today's guided tour of the Cabinet of Curiosities. Subscribe for free on Apple Podcasts or learn more about the show by visiting curiositiespodcast.com the show was created by me, Aaron Manke, in partnership with HowStuffWorks. I make another award winning show called Lore, which is a podcast, book series and television show and you can learn all about it over@theworldoflore.com and until next time, stay curious. This show is sponsored by American Public University. American Public University is the number one provider of education to our military and.
Erin Manke
Veterans in the country. They offer something truly unique, special rates and grants for the entire family, making education affordable not just for those who.
Aaron Manke
Serve, but also for their loved ones. If you have a military or veteran.
Erin Manke
Family member and are looking for affordable, high quality education, Apu is the place place for you. Visit Apu Apus. Edu Military to learn more. That's Apu Apus Edu Military. This is an iHeart podcast.
Aaron Mahnke's Cabinet of Curiosities: Episode Summary - "Cosmo-Not"
Release Date: June 24, 2025
In the episode titled "Cosmo-Not," host Aaron Manke delves into two intriguing narratives that intertwine literature, environmental impact, and the dawn of the space race. The episode masterfully bridges the seemingly disparate topics of Shakespearean metaphors and Soviet space achievements, highlighting the subtle ways in which culture and ambition shape our world.
Aaron begins by exploring the rich tapestry of bird references in William Shakespeare's works. He lists various birds—Nightingale, Lark, Falcon, Crow, Snipe, Loon, Seagull, Heron, Turtledove, and Magpie—noting their prevalence as "flexible metaphors" in Elizabethan literature (02:00). These birds symbolized everything from unrequited love to the folly of war, reflecting the societal norms and personal emotions of the time.
A pivotal moment arises when Aaron reveals how Shakespeare's use of the starling metaphor in Henry IV, Part 1 inadvertently influenced ecological history. He cites a line from the play:
"A starling shall be taught to speak nothing but Mortimer and give it to him to keep his anger still in motion." (04:15)
This seemingly minor literary device set the stage for an unexpected environmental consequence nearly a century later.
Transitioning from literature to history, Aaron recounts the tale of Eugene Schoeflin, an amateur ornithologist and devotee of Shakespeare, who in 1890 released 60 European starlings into New York's Central Park. Encouraged by the American Acclimatization Society, Schoeflin's actions were inspired by Shakespeare's mention of starlings, demonstrating the "butterfly effect" of literature on real-world events (03:30).
Despite previous failed attempts to introduce other European birds, the starlings thrived, eventually numbering 200 million in the United States. Aaron emphasizes the unintended consequences of this introduction, highlighting how starlings outcompeted native species and caused significant agricultural damage:
"Crops numbers in the billions of dollars. Stealing grain and produce experts have pointed out that declining numbers of woodpeckers and bluebirds could be attributed to how many starlings live in the continental U.S." (04:50)
Aaron delves deeper into the ramifications of the starling population boom. He explains that European starlings became one of the few bird species unprotected by U.S. law, allowing unrestricted hunting and trapping. This lack of regulation contributed to their unchecked proliferation, posing a threat to both agriculture and native wildlife.
A particularly alarming incident cited is the 1960 bird strike in Boston, where starlings caused the fatal crash of an airplane during takeoff. Aaron underscores the severity of this event:
"The most deadly bird strike of all time occurred in 1960, when starlings brought down an airplane as it took off from Boston." (04:55)
The dense bodies of starlings make them hazardous to aircraft, while their voracious appetite for crops results in billions of dollars in losses annually. Additionally, their presence has been linked to the decline of native bird populations, though this correlation remains debated among experts.
Shifting gears, Aaron introduces Sergei Korolev, a pivotal yet clandestine figure in the Soviet space program. In 1955, Soviet newspapers, influenced by Korolev, propagated exaggerated claims about interplanetary space exploration, igniting fears and aspirations in the United States. This misinformation played a crucial role in sparking the space race.
Aaron narrates how the Eisenhower administration, reacting to these reports, accelerated America's own space ambitions, leading to the launch of satellites and, eventually, manned space missions:
"In July, the Eisenhower administration announced plans to launch a satellite into orbit by 1958. And thus the spark had been lit. Thrusters primed and ready, all systems go. The space race had begun." (08:00)
Despite his monumental contributions, Korolev's identity remained shrouded in secrecy until after his death. Aaron reveals Korolev's tumultuous background, including his time as a political prisoner in the Gulag, where he endured severe hardships before being coerced into missile engineering for the Soviet regime.
Korolev's ingenuity led to the creation of Sputnik 1, the world's first artificial satellite, launched on October 4, 1957. This event not only marked a significant achievement for the Soviet Union but also galvanized the United States to enhance its own space endeavors. Aaron emphasizes Korolev's relentless pursuit despite systemic obstacles:
"Korolev didn't let the momentum go to waste either. Just a month after Sputnik 1, he launched Sputnik 2, carrying the first living passenger into orbit, a dog named Laika. Then, in 1961, he achieved the unthinkable. He put the first human, Yuri Gagarin, into space, aboard the Vostok I." (09:30)
Aaron also touches upon the irony of Korolev's legacy being obscured by Soviet authorities, partly due to his Ukrainian heritage, despite his indispensable role in advancing Soviet space capabilities.
In wrapping up "Cosmo-Not," Aaron reflects on how seemingly minor cultural elements—a single Shakespearean metaphor—can cascade into profound ecological and geopolitical shifts. Similarly, the intricate dance of ambition, misinformation, and individual perseverance shapes monumental historical events like the space race.
Aaron leaves listeners contemplating the "starling effect", a nod to the butterfly effect, illustrating how interconnected our actions and cultural artifacts truly are. He muses:
"Maybe we should call it the starling effect. Now that's something that would be worth writing a play about." (05:20)
"Cosmo-Not" offers a compelling exploration of how literature and individual actions can ripple through time, affecting environments and global events. Aaron Manke skillfully weaves together narratives from different eras, highlighting the intricate connections that define our history and natural world.
For those intrigued by the depths of curiosity and the unexpected links between disparate fields, Aaron Mahnke's Cabinet of Curiosities continues to be a treasure trove of storytelling that invites listeners to "stay curious."
This summary is based on the transcript provided and excludes all advertisements, intros, outros, and non-content segments to focus solely on the episode's core narratives.