Four years ago an automobile accident robbed Amanda Kitts of her arm and the ability to do things most of us take for granted, like making a sandwich. “I felt lost,” the teacher from Knoxville, Tennessee, tells writer Josh Fischman in this month’s cover story on bionics.

The perfect sign would have no words and be easy to grasp. “The rational thing is to create standard symbols everybody understands,” says David Gibson, author of The Wayfinding Handbook. He’s one of many designers the world over who work toward uniformity and understandability.

Yet the unconventional sign has undeniable allure. Doug Lansky curated “Signspotting,” an exhibit that drew crowds in Stockholm and Edinburgh and is traveling to other cities. In his show and in public places, signs can entertain with overkill  and fanciful images. They also let travelers see the world through another culture’s eyes. One sign instructs squat-toilet users in Western bathroom etiquette. Says Lansky: “Now I understand why I see footprints on the toilet in an international airport.” —Marc Silver

• Guess the meaning of these signs in our quiz.

In Veracruz, Mexico, the sound of the harp is part of the sound of the town. Players pluck a 36-string wooden instrument on street corners, in restaurants, and during Catholic Masses. Known as the Veracruz harp, it came to the New World in the 1500s from Spain. In the 2000s the harp is entering the vocabulary of American popular music. The California-based group Rey Fresco—Spanish for “king cool”—incorporates the assertive Veracruz pluck in its reggae-Caribbean-Latin fusion music.

The group’s harpist is Xocoyotzin Moraza, 28, who grew up in Ventura, California. Xocoyotzin is an Aztec name meaning “first born son,” “extension of a father,” and “something new or fresh.” In Moraza’s case, the definitions are all true. His dad, Antonio, made the harp. And Xocoyotzin is bringing its sound into a new musical environment via Rey Fresco, whose debut album, The People, was released this fall. (Although the name has its downside. “The first day of school was interesting,” says Xocoyotzin, who always had to explain how to say his name: sho-ko-yo-tsen. Maybe that’s why his nickname is Xoco (pronounced sho-ko.)

For starters, the plot is great: When a scapegrace fox runs afoul of three mean farmers, he endangers his family and friends. To save them, he hatches an elaborate plan that relies on interspecies cooperation.

The look and sound of the movie are even greater: Tactile sets and puppets, deadpan voiceovers, and a winsome score let you lose yourself in the quaint, handcrafted world.

But greatest of all—at least to us here at Pop Omnivore—are the assortment of dubious animal “facts” sprinkled throughout the movie. Just for the fun of it, we decided to ask some experts to weigh in on our three favorite whoppers.

Cracked Latin is a band that does—and doesn’t—live up to its name. The sound is Ricky Ricardo’s horn-driven cha-cha-chá meets psychedelic rock—definitely “cracked Latin.” The band members may be a bit offbeat as well, but they aren’t exactly Latin. Luis Accorsi (above, left) is an Italian who grew up in Venezuela and now lives in Buffalo. He performs with Jewish New Yorker Lane Steinberg (right). “Talk about cultural misplacement,” Steinberg jokes.<p>

The video for their song “International Accident” is a case of artistic misplacement. No one is quite sure where it came from. A “crazy Venezuelan friend,” says Steinberg, passed on the animated saga of a chalk-drawn figure who camps out in the wild, strolls along a sidewalk that lights up, and then finds itself hanging for dear life by a finger—images that turn out to be spot-on for a song about strange goings-on in the world today. And for capturing the band’s cracked quality.<p>

Last summer, public health experts warned that 2009 H1N1, aka swine flu, could afflict up to 50 percent of the U.S. population this flu season. To prepare, officials readied 50 million doses of initial vaccines for children, pregnant women, and health care workers. Though not likely, two other, older techniques— isolation and quarantine—could also eventually be considered.

A wild Christmas character is making a devilish comeback. Krampus gets his name from a word for “claw.” That’s apt for a demon said to grab naughty children and stuff them in his sack. Popular in Alpine villages centuries ago, Krampus scared kids straight—his long red tongue upped the fear factor—and taught them that evil bows before good. He served Santa’s forerunner, kindly St. Nicholas, who had “the power to send Krampus back to hell,” says Austrian ethnologist Ulrike Kammerhofer-Aggermann. 

If you want to be a designer or art director, master Pictionary. Seriously, play it ALL THE TIME. Even if you don't own the board game, draw stuff on scraps of paper and make your friends guess what it is. That's what I do every day. Ideas have to start somewhere, and for me, the process begins with a fat, black marker.

For example, our November issue featured a page on homemade solar ovens (above). We had the boxes, the glass, the crumpled newspaper. The photographer wanted to know how to shoot them. Sketch, sketch, scribble. Done.

Kirshtein, 25, who had to pack his knives and go in this week's episode, is the executive chef at Eno, an Atlanta restaurant whose décor is Euro-farmhouse meets urban chic (meaning big paintings of dice on some walls). In case you’re wondering, we ate: superb barley risotto with truffle oil and fennel fritters, sumptuous moist chicken that married beautifully with an array of wild mushrooms, and … a beet parfait, which had earthy undercurrents of flavor but a texture that seemed a bit gelatinous.

The National Geographic Museum is the latest stop in the world tour of China’s terra-cotta warriors. The silent, life-size sentries were built more than 2,000 years ago to protect the Emperor Qin Shi Huang’s throne in the afterlife. Their image projects the grandeur and mystery of ancient China—and clearly resonates in modern-day America. Advance ticket sales topped 90,000. But a visitor to the show won’t see all the terra-cotta warriors.

In China today, these stone soldiers have come to wear quite a few uniforms, and not what you would expect. In the warriors’ hometown of Xian, where I spent a year studying Mandarin, I saw statues recast with playful irreverence by the country’s youth, used as a marketing ploy to appeal to consumers, and displayed as a striking symbol of the “New China.” Clearly, the terra-cotta warriors prove you're never too old for a makeover.

This sometimes silly reinvention is actually part of a serious shift in China, as its leaders seek to shape a modern country capable of supporting 1.3 billion people without losing touch with the lessons of a 5,000-year-old history.

Of course, this would be child's play to Minnesota's Al Franken, who has wowed crowds and won renown with his cartographic renderings. Here's a video of him creating an outline map of the United States at the Minnesota State Fair:

Click to launch our interactive gallery Then grab a pencil and try it yourself.

—Brad Scriber