Actor Rarmian Newton who plays the character Hiccup rides Toothless during a scene run through of the “How to Train Your Dragon Arena Spectacular” at Hisense Arena on March 7, 2012 in Melbourne, Australia. (Photo by Robert Cianflone/Getty Images)

Though we have “In God we trust” written on our banknotes, we didn’t go as far as putting Jesus on them. Martin Joubert, however, decided to correct this injustice and placed the face of Jesus on one of his 100 dollar designs. Though some may view it as sacrilege, Jesus surely wouldn’t mind seeing his face on the banknote of one of the most pious nations in the world. In our opinion, however, the monopoly man is the most appropriate substitute for the Ben Franklin. (Photo by Martin Joubert)

We all have our own ways of passing time on our daily commutes. Some people read, others try to sleep, and many listen to music or play on their phones. But one creative commuter has a simple and highly entertaining way that hopefully more people will embrace. By placing a face from a newspaper in front of a person at just the right angle, they transform other commuters into recognizable celebrities while keeping the unbeknownst participant obscured.

Astronaut Chris Hadfield Explains How to Wash your Hands in Space.

Look at the image for long enough and you can make the train change direction simply by thinking about it. Freaky.

While communism, collectivism, worms, dry rot and casual looting failed to destroy the majestic wooden churches of Russia, it may be ordinary neglect that finally does them in. Dwindled now to several hundred remaining examples, these glories of vernacular architecture lie scattered amid the vastness of the world’s largest country. Just over a decade ago, Richard Davies, a British architectural photographer, struck out on a mission to record the fragile and poetic structures. Austerely beautiful and haunting, “Wooden Churches: Traveling in the Russian North” (White Sea Publishing; $132) is the result. Covering thousands of miles, Mr. Davies described how he and the writer Matilda Moreton tracked down the survivors from among the thousands of onion-domed structures built after Prince Vladimir converted to Christianity in 988.

A five-month-old female slender loris waits to be given her first health check by the veterinary team at London Zoo on July 21, 2011 in London, England. Two female baby slender lorises, who are yet to be named, were given health checks, their s*x determined and micro-chipped. Slender Loris is the common name for the strepsirrhine primates who are nocturnal and originate from India, Sri Lanka, and southeast Asia. London Zoo supports conservation of lorises in Sri Lanka, where populations are thought to be under threat from deforestation. (Photo by Christopher Furlong/Getty Images)

While communism, collectivism, worms, dry rot and casual looting failed to destroy the majestic wooden churches of Russia, it may be ordinary neglect that finally does them in. Dwindled now to several hundred remaining examples, these glories of vernacular architecture lie scattered amid the vastness of the world’s largest country. Just over a decade ago, Richard Davies, a British architectural photographer, struck out on a mission to record the fragile and poetic structures. Austerely beautiful and haunting, “Wooden Churches: Traveling in the Russian North” (White Sea Publishing; $132) is the result. Covering thousands of miles, Mr. Davies described how he and the writer Matilda Moreton tracked down the survivors from among the thousands of onion-domed structures built after Prince Vladimir converted to Christianity in 988.