Osler's Razor

It's hard to dispute our haiku champion on friday: It must be "Welle," who authored this incredibly timely haiku:

Showing instruments,
This one goes to eleven?
Exquisite logic.

Now why, you ask, might this be so timely? Friday, of course was 11/11/11, or Nigel Tufnel day in honor of the scene included above. Spinal Tap, after all, is my favorite movie. Recent winner Phil Steger also wrote on the topic:


"Just make ten louder."
Hard rock Buddha says: "But these
Go to eleven."

So, just who is this "Welle?" Let's find out.

Welle was born in Rochester, Minnesota, the home of the Mayo Clinic and myriad medical enterprises. Like many children in Rochester, he was designed, built, brought to life, and trained in a secret government lab which develops cyborgs. Though others were developed for fascinating uses by government agencies such as the Department of Energy (immune to radiation), NASA (able to live in zero oxygen environments), and the Department of Defense (sound cannons installed in larynx), Welle was part of a project commissioned by Amtrak. He was given the secret powers of determining when a train would arrive, and creating excuses for its tardiness. He was also given lasers at the tip of each finger (for reading bar codes on tickets, etc.), but they only extend one inch from his hand and are unable to cut through anything.

Though briefly lent to the Postal Service in exchange for some stamps Amtrak needed, Welle was quickly decommissioned and left to his own devices. He chose to pursue engineering, and his undergraduate thesis (on the feasibility of returning to coal-burning locomotives) won the Burlington Northern Award for Outstanding Achievement in the Field of Excellence. He used his prize money to fund the continuation of his education in law school, where he remains today.