Tycho Brahe kept a supposedly clairvoyant dwarf named Jepp under his dinner table, feeding him scraps while waiting for him to blurt out mystical prophecies between courses.

A closer look

Tycho Brahe kept a supposedly clairvoyant dwarf named Jepp under his dinner table, feeding him scraps while waiting for him to blurt out mystical prophecies between courses. The legendary Danish astronomer, who wore a fake brass nose because he lost his real one in a math duel, firmly believed that his vertically challenged companion possessed a direct psychic link to the universe. While Brahe was mapping the stars with unprecedented accuracy, he was simultaneously relying on a guy chewing on a mutton bone beneath a tablecloth to predict when his dinner guests would die. It paints a remarkably chaotic picture of Renaissance science, where empirical observation operated directly alongside deeply unhinged superstition. To be fair, having a personal psychic hiding under your dining table is an incredible flex that modern billionaires have yet to replicate