With only 12 days left 'til Christmas, we're in the heart of caroling season — and few songs would seem more appropriate than "The Twelve Days of Christmas." (Listen to the carol below.) But no matter how many times you've sung it — or found ways to avoid singing it — how well do you really know the song? Here, 5 revelations about the ubiquitous, vaguely irritating "Twelve Days of Christmas":
1. The "Twelve Days" don't end on Christmas Day — they begin on it.
The Holy Trinity Catholic Church explains that the "12 days of Christmas" don't begin on December 13 and end on Christmas Day; they begin on Christmas Day and end on January 5, marking the time of "merry-making" until the Epiphany. The singer's true love is generously extending his or her gift-giving for nearly two weeks after Christmas Day. (We're celebrating now anyway.)
2. It's "four colly birds," not "four calling birds."
Mike O'Connor of the Bird Watcher's General Store explains that "colly" is an obsolete synonym for "grimy or sooty, like a chimney sweep" — and the song's "colly birds" are actually blackbirds. It remains unclear why anyone's true love would actually give them four blackbirds, but the song's idea of a charming gift does skew towards the ornithological (See: Swans, geese, hens).
3. "Five golden rings" may actually refer to five pheasants.
Mike Bergin of 10,000 Birds explains that the song's seemingly bizarre switch from four birds, to five pieces of jewelry, and back to six birds actually makes perfect sense: The "five golden rings" are likely a reference to ring-necked pheasants.
4. The total number of gifts given in "The Twelve Days of Christmas" is 364.
Multiply each gift by the number of times it recurs in a full round of the song and you'll see that the gifts' recipient would have to rent a storage unit (and possibly a lake) to contain the bounty, including 42 swans a-swimming, 22 pipers piping, and 40 maids a-milking.
5. In 2012, your true love would have to spend $107,300 to buy all 364 presents.
PNC Wealth Management has calculated the cost of the gifts every year since 1984, in an annual report called the "Christmas Price Index." (In 1984, the same gift assortment would have cost $61,300.) Those determinedly mobile swans are the most expensive item, at $1,000 each.
Missed your chance to watch ABBA perform live at the peak of their popularity? You’re in luck: Fans will soon be able to see the group in concert in all their chart-topping, 1970s glory—or rather, they’ll be able to see their holograms. As Mashable reports, a virtual version of the Swedish pop band is getting ready to go on tour.
ABBA split up in 1982, and the band hasn't been on tour since. (Though they did get together for a surprise reunion performance in 2016.) All four members of ABBA are still alive, but apparently not up for reentering the concert circuit when they can earn money on a holographic tour from the comfort of their homes.
The musicians of ABBA have already had the necessary measurements taken to bring their digital selves to life. The final holograms will resemble the band in the late 1970s, with their images projected in front of physical performers. Part of the show will be played live, but the main vocals will be lifted from original ABBA records and recordings of their 1977 Australian tour.
ABBA won’t be the first musical act to perform via hologram. Tupac Shakur, Michael Jackson, and Dean Martin have all been revived using the technology, but this may be one of the first times computerized avatars are standing in for big-name performers who are still around. ABBA super-fans will find out if “SOS” still sounds as catchy from the mouths of holograms when the tour launches in 2019.
Cold, calculating, unfeeling—none of the stereotypes associated with robots seem to describe makers of great art. But that hasn’t stopped roboticists from trying to engineer the next Picasso in a lab. Some machines and algorithms are capable of crafting works impressive enough to fool even the toughest critics. As for the rest of the robot artists and writers out there, let’s just say they won’t have creative types fearing for their jobs anytime soon.
1. A BEATLES-ESQUE POP SONG
If you heard the song above at a party or in a crowded store, you might assume it’s just a generic pop tune. But if you listened closer, you’d hear the dissonant vocals and nonsense lyrics that place this number in the sonic equivalent of the uncanny valley. “Daddy’s Car” was composed by an artificial intelligence system from the Sony CSL Research Laboratory. After analyzing sheet music from a variety of artists and genres, the AI generated the words, harmony, and melody for the song. A human composer chose the style (1960s Beatles-style pop) and did the producing and mixing, but other than that the music is all machine. It may not have topped the pop charts, but the song did give us the genius lyric: “Down on the ground, the rainbow led me to the sun.”
2. A NOVEL THAT MADE IT PAST THE FIRST ROUND OF A FICTION CONTEST
Will the next War and Peace be written by a complex computer algorithm? Probably not, but that isn’t to say that AI can’t compose some serviceable fiction with help from human minds. In 2016, a team of Japanese researchers invented a program and fed it the plot, characters, and general structure of an original story. They also wrote sentences for the system to choose from, so the content of the novel relied heavily on humans. But the final product and the work required to string the components together was made possible by AI. The researchers submitted the story to Japan's Nikkei Hoshi Shinichi Literary Contest where it made it past the first round of judging. Though one notable Japanese author praised the novel for its structure, he also said there were some character description issues holding it back.
3. A 'NEW' REMBRANDT PAINTING
Robin Van Lonkhuijsen/AFP/Getty Images
In 2016, a 3D printer did something extraordinary: It produced a brand new painting in the spirit of a long-dead artist. The piece, titled “The Next Rembrandt,” would fit right in at an exhibition of art from the 17th-century Dutch painter. But this work is entirely modern. Bas Korsten, creative director at the Amsterdam-based advertising firm J. Walter Thompson, had a computer program analyze 346 Rembrandt paintings over 18 months. Every element of the final image, from the age of the subject and the color of his clothes to the physical brushstrokes, is reminiscent of the artist’s distinct style. But while it’s good enough to fool the amateur art fan, it failed to hold up under scruntiny from Rembrandt experts.
4. DREARY LOVE POETRY
What do you get when you dump thousands of unpublished romance novels into an AI system? Some incredibly bleak poetry, as Google discovered in 2016. The purpose of the neural network was to connect two separate sentences from a book into one whole thought. The result gave us such existential gems as this excerpt:
"there is no one else in the world.
there is no one else in sight.
they were the only ones who mattered.
they were the only ones left.
he had to be with me.
she had to be with him.
i had to do this.
i wanted to kill him.
i started to cry."
To be fair, the algorithm was designed to construct natural-sounding sentences rather than write great verse. But that doesn’t stop the passages from sounding oddly poetic.
5. A CREEPY CHRISTMAS SONG
Christmas songs rely heavily on formulas and cliches, aka ideal neural network fodder. So you’d think that an AI program would be capable of whipping up a fairly decent holiday tune, but a project from the University of Toronto proved this isn’t as easy as it sounds. Their algorithm was prompted to compose the song above based on a digital image of a Christmas tree. From there it somehow came up with trippy lyrics like, “I’ve always been there for the rest of our lives.”
6. A CROWDSOURCED ABSTRACT PAINTING
The image above was painted by the mechanical arm of a robot, but naming the true artist of the piece gets complicated. That’s because the robotic painter was controlled by multiple users on the internet. In 2015, the commissioned art service Instapainting invited the online community at Twitch to crowdsource a painting. The robot, following script commands over a 36-hour period, produced what looks like graffiti-inspired abstract art. More impressive than the painting itself was the fact that the machine was able to paint it at all. Instapainting founder Chris Chen told artnet, “It was a $250 machine slapped together with quickly written software, so running it for that long was an endurance test.”