Archives for February 2014

I, like approximately 1/3 of Americans, have a job. It requires me to interact with other people. To present myself in a courteous and professional manner and, no, I don’t wear a paper hat or a name tag. It’s a grown up job in a company staffed by grown ups ….. and me. No matter what I’m always going to have that one part of me that’s just that side of goofy. Depending on your point of view that’s either child-like or childish. That allows me to kind of take people as they come. I tend to be comfortable around people who are different than me simply because I enjoy the differences. I find that to be a blessing. Knowing people who are everything from porn stars to priests has given me access to insights I might otherwise have missed. And I do tend to see a common thread others seem not to. People really share the same core desires. They want a safe place to live, a roof over their head, food on the table and a better life or their progeny, biological or otherwise. So, yeah, I was appalled by Arizona and continue to be appalled at those who use religion as a weapon. As I noted elsewhere, I believe in God. Happen to be a big fan of His work. He did an exceptional job on the derriere of a certain red head I know. That being said, there is lengthy list of animals who are gay, so it’s not just a human thing. In other words there’s a point to their existence. And if they’re good enough for God then they’re good enough for me. Because, smart though I may be, I am not smarter than God.

One thing is true. Diversity is the backbone of this country. It’s the whole reason we exist. We are the freaking meting pot of the world. We are not a box of light, beige, crayons.

And, yet, there are those who judge. Often from ignorance and fear. “That’s not like me so it must be bad” is the mantra of the small minded. So it was with a certain modicum of joy that I ran across Michael Sean Comerford’s article about Short E. Dangerously.

The half man, all freak, who’s living large.

A tall, successful looking man in his early 50s next to me in the elevator was just making small talk when he asked why I carried so many books and notes with me.

I’m writing a book about traveling carnivals. I spent the year working and living in traveling carnivals and now it’s time to write a book. There was lots of hitchhiking involved too, I said.

“I used to work for the freak show every year at the Minnesota State Fair,” he said. “I used to pull the sword out of the sword swallower’s mouth.”

As I left the elevator I asked his name, later Googling his name to see what became of the Freak Show apprentice.

Vice chairman of General Motors.

Writer Amy Tan says she wonders if the “universe” is sending her material for her books when she’s writing, because so much comes her way when writing that inspires her work (they are good novels).

It happens to me too but my subject is carnivals, carnies and the ephemeral locus of American communities. With a subject that broad, GM vice chairman/former child freak show performers will happen.

You never know what you’ll see in a freak show, or who those performers are in real life.

For my last day in my year in traveling carnivals, I asked King of the Sideshows Ward Hall if I could work in his freak show for a token amount and for just a day.

I saw the World of Wonders several times when I was working the billiards game for Adam West’s crew in at the Minnesota State Fair last summer.

The “World” was playing the Florida State Fair in Tampa and I wanted to get a toe into the freak show side of the industry. Hall agreed and I took tickets and was a gopher.

Twenty-two-inch tall Short E. Dangerously is the only classic “freak” in the show, called a “half man” because he was born without legs.

At the World of Wonders show in Florida, people ate fire, swallowed swords and performed magic, including a guillotine routine with a head thrown into the crowd. Illusions, Ward said, are most of the show these days.

Hall blames political correctness for the decline in “human oddities” wanting to perform in sideshows. Hall has worked in the sideshow business for 60 years and knows his freaks.

“I’ve worked with hundreds of human oddities,” he said. “Giants, midgets, alligator skin men, bearded ladies, the monkey girl, pinheads, midgets, dwarfs, the armless girls, the living half men, all worked for me in the past.”

Maybe even a future vice chairman of General Motors.

Shorty started touring in sideshows just a couple years ago and now travels the world. He’s knocked out by the fame and travel. Before one performance, (performances run continuously almost all day), he looked back at fellow performer and beautiful assistant Sunshine and said, “I know, sometimes I can’t believe all this myself.”

It’s hard work as you’ll see in his interview.

I found his lack of neuroses compelling. He says he had a happy childhood. He loves music and women. He’s healthy. He makes money and travels the world. He’s a happy man.

Without a hint of self pity for the cards he was dealt, he proclaims himself a lucky half man and a rocker.

I’ve read experts who say otherwise, but I believe a man is happy if he thinks so. I also believe most of what we see, we should question.

You never know what you’ll see in a sideshow, on stage, behind the stage or in the corporate board room. You never know the shape of a happy man.

Click here to read the whole interview. You’ll be glad you did.

Short E. has a website, a hot woman who lets him throw knives at her and has written a loving tribute to his mom.

This is Short E. being a human flame thrower. And, yes, that’s as tall as he gets.

The point here is simple, because his mother accepted him for what he was he was able to accept himself. Because he could accept himself it made it possible for others to accept him.

Do you see the pattern here?

As my grandmother used to say, “We are all God’s creatures. It’s up to us to figure out why he put us here.”

I may not have all the answers, but hating all the wonderful people He’s graced us with doesn’t seem to be the right answer.

Cecaelia from Hugo BODOUKIAN MEYRANT on Vimeo.

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I have a new neighbor. He moved in a couple of months ago. It took me about 11 seconds to decide he was a douche. Maybe 12. Anyway, 2 weeks ago he introduced me to his girlfriend. She, politely, pointed out that they were on their way to their first date (Olive Garden according to him) and weren’t actually in a relationship. Just consider this moment as added evidence to his douche-baggery. Especially the whole Olive Garden thing. Set aside the fact that the food sucks, “Here baby, have some free salad” isn’t all that romantic. Okay, back on point. Yesterday the nice lady, and she is very nice, broke up with him. In the hallway. She claimed, surprise surprise, that he was a drama queen and given to over-reactions. She then turned on heel and walked away while he started crying over the lost love of his life. Yes, I remind you that this is two weeks in. He cried for five hours. At times sobbing. At times wailing and at times making this keening noise akin to brake failure on a freight train. Then, because we are discussing a man who’s in complete control of his emotions and social behavior, cranked up a boom box and began playing Royals for the next three hours. Obviously nothing says “lost love” like a song that has nothing to do with love, lost or otherwise.

I used to like that song.

Nevertheless, while the douche-bag may be destined to a short shelf life no matter what he does, others have success that lasts decades. I am limiting this blog to five bands that have, as best as possible, stayed together for the long haul. Solo performers have it much easier. Bands are, essentially, caravans of gypsies. Yes the wagons get nicer when you’re successful but life on the road isn’t a first class ticket to sing at a hotel no matter how well appointed the bus may be.

Here we go.

(1) The Rolling Stones. Founded in 1962, they haven’t been relevant since 1978, on the Some Girls tour, and now they charge $250 or better to see them live, but back in the day the Glitter Twins made some of the best rock and roll on the planet, with Her Majesty’s Request being an admitted mistake, and changed the way millions of people thought about music. Even on the Some Girls tour, which I saw, tickets were reasonable and you could win them, as I did, on WLUP, which was also relevant back then. However, just as the Stones were set to slide into obscurity or playing corner bars for kicks, CLASSIC ROCK was born. Radio geared for a target audience of middle aged white men with money. More importantly middle aged white men with families that they had to introduce to their favorite music. The Stones figured that whatever these idiots would pay to see a football game, about $100 a pop when they started these stadium tours, that’s what they would charge. That is still their philosophy. God bless them.

(2) Parliament Funkadelic. Started in the late 50’s by George Clinton as a doo-wop group they morphed into two of the greatest funk collectives ever known, Parliament and Funkadelic (until 1972 they were on different labels although they were actually the same band – well, it was the 70’s, there was lots of confusion). The Parliament side of the group was the more pop sounding affair while Funkadelic took psychedelia and R&B and fused them into art. The collective spawned Bootsy’s Rubber Band, The Brides of Funkenstein and several others. But the original group, including the latest iteration of it’s famous mothership is still playing selected dates. So the next time someone tells you they’re gonna turn this mutha out, you can thank George Clinton and his merry band of miscreants.

(3) ZZ Top. Billy Gibbons, Dusty Hill & Frank Beard hooked up in 1969 in Houston Texas. Utilizing three chords, one beat and vocals that barely spanned four notes, forget about an octave, they became the unlikely darlings of the working class. Considering that the singers look more like Hasidic rabbis than rockers, unlikely may be an understatement. Still, by the mid-70’s they were selling out stadiums performing shows that featured live bulls, a stage shaped like Texas (this was before Texas went insane) and convincing teenage girls to take off tier tops for ZZ Top. I know, I was there. I haven’t see that many tits outside of a strip club in my life. My buddy, who was, and is, older and wiser than me advised me to go without a date. Dear God was that a good call. If you couldn’t get laid at a ZZ Top concert it’s off to the monastery for you. But if boobs aren’t your thing, here’s some Tush. Something else that was on display in great abundance that day.

(4) The Stranglers. Classically trained punk band may seem like an oxymoron, but this multi-million selling group (that you probably never heard of) has made it work for 40 straight years of touring. Think about that. 40 years on the road. No breaks, no year off here or there, just 40 years of non-stop rock and roll. Their first single that hit late night radio in the U.S. in 1977 was called Get a Grip and it changed my fucking religion. The band had already been touring Europe for three years at that time. Unlike the other bands noted above The Stranglers kept writing, kept being political, never shied from satire and saw their drummer celebrate his 75th birthday by appearing in their latest music video, a catchy rip on climate change deniers. Anyway, 2014 is their 40th Anniversary tour, catch them if you can. It used to be that if you left a Stranglers show without being bloodied or bruised you weren’t really there (I still have the scar). Things are a little calmer now.

(5) Shonen Knife. These are the youngsters here today, another million selling act most Americans don’t know. Founded in 1981 these three young ladies epitomize Japanese pop music. They also epitomize raw punk. You see they do the, Cheap Trick influenced, girly stuff for their label, some very cute pop songs that sell kazillions, and then they pull out their strap ons and leathers (not literally) and go play live. It is here that I should mention that Shonen Knife literally translates to Boy Knife. That is not a flattering phrase for a penis, just in case you’re confused. To put it in some perspective they almost didn’t do a U.K. tour with Nirvana because they were scary looking men and they had no clue who they were (this was pre Never Mind). Here is Yamano’s take on the whole affair, ” … I went to a record store, and I bought their CD. And when I saw their photograph, I thought they might be scary persons, because their hairstyles and their clothes were very grunge. But once the tour had started, I noticed that all the members were nice, good persons. And because this was our first experience of a long tour, the drummer Dave [Grohl] helped us with setting up the drum kit.”

Yeah, the only thing cooler than having Trent Reznor be your tambourine player has got to be having Nirvana be your roadies.

So there you go. Click the links, play with fire, date a red head (only if you’re single), hell, do whatever you want, you’ve lived long enough to take a chance here and there.

As have they.

Beats Antique “Beauty Beats” from RadioPangea on Vimeo.

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First off I have to admit that I am friends with two, professional clowns. Specifically the legendary cow punk Pioneer, Pete Berwick, who moonlights as a clown for children’s parties. I am also friends with Happy The Drunken Clown who will come to your event and insult the living hell out of everyone. As you might surmise, he and Pete have slightly different target audiences. Still, they’re both clowns in the formal sense. In the 80’s I drove a forklift for Sears and was friends with the late Bobbo the Clown, who worked there as well. I was also an acquaintance of Hollie Stevens, the undisputed queen of clown porn until she passed away in 2012 from cancer. So, as you can tell, I do not suffer from Coulrophobia.

That’s why, last Monday, when the NY Daily News reported that there was a clown shortage in America, I noticed. So did a bunch of clowns.

Very angry clowns.

Andy Campbell has the story.

Did you hear the one about America’s imminent “clown shortage?” It’s not very funny.

A New York Daily News article claimed Monday that “a national clown shortage is on the horizon.”

But that’s a big, Bozo-sized comedy of errors, according to the greasepaint yucksters the tabloid quotes in its report.

The article draws a correlation between declining membership in two national clowning associations and the downfall of clownhood altogether:

“What’s happening is attrition,” said Clowns of America International President Glen Kohlberger, who added that membership at the [Minnesota]-based organization has plummeted since 2006. “The older clowns are passing away.”

The story goes on to point out that the other nationwide clown network — the World Clown Association — has seen its membership drop from about 3,500 to 2,500 since 2004.

Kohlberger and other circus types aren’t denying that their groups face dwindling membership. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t still plenty of clowns to send in — wherever a balloon needs to be folded or cream pie needs to be thrown.

“To say there’s a clown shortage, it’s just false,” he said. “Clowns of America International is a volunteer association. We don’t get paid, we educate and we help others … Like any association, people forget to renew [their membership], or they work in the field but don’t sign up. Unfortunately there are a lot of unprofessional clowns out there.

“But clowns are everywhere,” he added.

It would appear that proof of clowndom’s burgeoning success lies in the Daily News’ own article. The Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus is coming to Brooklyn on Thursday. There were 531 applicants for just 11 clown jobs last year, the tabloid reported.

A Daily News editor declined to comment for this article.

And yet, inaccurate or not, the article went viral and the story made an appearance on The Tonight Show.

As the old saying goes, any press is good press. Although Kohlberger was “very upset” about the article, it did “create excitement all over the world.” So who’s laughing now?

I’ll admit that fewer and fewer clowns are joining professional trade associations. That’s because they really don’t need them any more. Thanks to the internet and party planners the kind of social networking those associations provide is not really salient to getting work. It’s nice to hang with other clowns, if you’re into that sort of thing, but your membership fee isn’t going to get you any more work than you can get on your own.

Still, today’s story is happier than the time I had to share the bon mot of the ninja granny facing off against crazed clown attacker.

Yeah, that went about as well you might imagine.

By the way, this just in, Patrick Stewart is still a heterosexual. This despite the fact that some clown at the Guardian claimed he was gay because he knew gay people.

Stewart’s response is also what you’d expect.

Patrick Stewart ✔ @SirPatStew
@Poynter But @guardian I have, like, five or even SEVEN hetero friends and we totally drink beer and eat lots of chicken wings!

“fetish clown” from LuxFilm Factory on Vimeo.

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As things become more public the public learns to deal with them in one way or another. Unless you’re a lawmaker in Kansas, then you just try and make reality go away. It never works but, BY GOD, they do try. They actually have my favorite law in America. In an attempt to ban Sharia Law, a problem that did not and does not exist, they passed a law banning any religion from influencing the laws of their shiny land. A move which could legalize gay marriage there now. It’s called Senate Bill 79 or, as I like to call it, 10 More than Happiness. No one has put that sucker to the test yet but I bet someone will. In non-religious news, bestiality arrests have quadrupled since 2008. A large part of that is due to the public becoming more aware that this is a real crime and reporting it as such. In Florida, where they only recently made the practice illegal, and it took them four tries at that, courts are finally jailing people for the crime. And we’re talking serious time. One guy just got 8 years plus an additional 9 on parole. Of course, Florida is still the king when it comes to family values and boasts the only Mother/Daughter porn team in the world. More importantly, it seems that some people are walking among us without any social filters. Two women were arrested this week for trying to kill guys who wouldn’t have sex with them, one of whom was a complete stranger to the lady. When a headline features your name followed by the phrase “Goes On Bloody, Naked Rampage After Boyfriend Refuses Sex” you might want to rethink some of your life choices.

I’m just saying.

You might also want to send the editor a copy of an English textbook so they can learn how to use commas.

That being said, millions of men and women have worked out a way to keep themselves satisfied and out of trouble. They wander down to their local adult toy shop and pick up something to provide a little self pleasure and stress relief. If you’re not sure what you need you’ll find the staff very helpful. The choices can be daunting.

But we live in a universe that has entropy and, as such, things wear out. So what do you do when your self pleasuring device needs to be put down? You do what millions already do, you recycle it.

Aimee Heckel shares a lovely story about her husband, used dildos and earth friendly politics.

My husband was astounded by the number of phallic objects on the conveyor belt.

A few years ago, he volunteered to help sort junk at a recycling facility in Boulder County. As Colorado residents, philanthropy and recycling is a residency requirement, and/or punishment if you break the law. What brought him there isn’t interesting.

What brought him home is.

He came home near tears. The old sex toys! The ratty, strange, sticky, damaged sex toys! They kept coming, he explained. At first, a doodad on the conveyor belt was novel. Funny, even. Then more. Baffling. More. Violating.

That’s when we learned the hard way: You can recycle your ex’s Magic Wand. Collection centers can sterilize naughty castoffs and, well, grind the rubber and silicone down into skanky dust (not the official term) to be remolded into new goodies.

After a new sanitary layer of silicone, that is.

After his encounter at the recycling facility, my husband might request two protective layers.

Indeed, sex without a condom isn’t the only kind of sex that may make your lady bits cry. Your sex toys may be toxic. And not very alluring to the environment, either.

Increasingly more adult stores are offering nontoxic, green goodies (and I’m not talking about the color, not that there’s anything wrong with a Hulkavater, which surely exists). This new buzz of pleasure contains no PVC, animal products or phthalates, which some people fear may be linked to reproductive problems, including low sperm counts. Still, the FDA reports there’s not a “sound, scientific basis” for concern.

In respect for Oh-Mama Earth, green sex toys are also often made in the USA (with a smaller carbon footprint), sold in recyclable packaging and rechargeable, to reduce the number of batteries that end up in the landfill. You can easily find green sex toys online at eartherotics.com and ecorotic.com, just to name a few.

The local, handcrafted sex toy movement is growing, too. Etsy is bursting with handmade everythings — from floggers, to ticklers, to bed restraints, to hypoallergenic, phthalate-free, printed-to-order, hand-polished vibrators.

Jonathan Kasemir, of Longmont, Colo., started making hand-braided whips last February. He started his business, RavenTiger Whips, in response to his then-girlfriend’s request to experiment with BDSM.

“She wanted me to try whipping her, and I wasn’t going to spend and arm and a leg to get one if I wasn’t even sure I was going to like it,” Kasemir says.

Today, he says he can play the drums using two whips. (Literally. That’s not a euphemism.) In the last year, Kasemir says he has sold about 90 whips to Coloradoans, ranging from about $130 to $300 each, mostly via word of mouth, at social events and through BDSM social-networking sites. In fact, the demand is so great that he he has a two-month waiting list.

The whips, custom-tailored using parachute cord, take about seven hours to braid, he says.

Buying local has its benefits; Kasemir says clients enjoy picking the color, design patterns, weight, length, width and handle style. Plus, if something breaks, he can fix it for them. There’s one more bonus of buying locally, Kasemir says.

“I even help people learn how to throw their whips when they order them,” he says.

Yes, she’s right. There is a Hulk themed vibrator. Actually, there’s an entire line based on the Avengers. Earth’s mightiest and all that.

• Captain America – silicon vibrator
• Iron Man – twin motor vibrator
• Thor – electrical stimulator
• Hulk – 12” silicone dildo
• Black Widow – discreet clitoral stimulator
• Hawkeye – G-spot vibrator

And, as you can see from the above, business ideas can come from anywhere. Although, sadly, there is no follow up if the young lady enjoyed the sting of the lash even if many others have and do thanks to Mr. Kasemir’s entrepreneurial spirit.

And what do all those tons of recycle plastics get used in? A lot of them are in children’t playgrounds all over the country.

You’ll never forget that, I promise.

Okay Grandma, show the kids how it’s done.

Madonna – Erotica (Uncensored) from MstMst on Vimeo.

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I wrote the below column a year ago today. Since nothing lasts on the Internet I have been asked to repost it. And I’m happy to oblige. Each year Valentine’s Day brings its own unique set of challenges. Especially to us single dudes. You don’t want to do too much for fear of coming off like a stalker but you don’t want to do to little for fear of appearing disinterested. And it’s not just guys. If my email is to be believed women are just as insecure as men. While I may be the last person who you should go to for advice in this case I’m the one you’re reading so here goes; be comfortable and be there. You don’t need to bust out the zillion dollar gift. If your significant other cares about you at all not blowing them off is a great start. Dinner is a very good beginning. Yesterday the Chicago Tribune, that well heralded bastion of of romance, posted a lengthy article about how cheeseburgers can be romantic. Unless you keep kosher or halal in which case just use that advice as a guideline and not as gospel. As it were. The point is that if you’re important to a person then be there for that person. The rest will sort itself out. Romance is not stuff, it’s caring. That may be the greatest gift of all.

Take it from the old guy.

Anyway, as I alluded to above, a year ago today I posted a lengthy article about Valentine’s Day in China with numerous links to the history of the day in western culture. That seems to be the article everyone liked so here it is for you again.

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Today is Valentine’s day. It is a day where people are expected to do certain things even if they are wildly outside their skill set. For example, last year at this time I was asked to give relationship advice. That was not as helpful as you might imagine. Even less helpful is the fact that I keep bringing up the fact that Valentine’s day is the only holiday to have a disease named after it. I already noted, yesterday, some of the many oddities in the history of the holiday. Like all modern Christian holidays it has picked up a fair amount of unintended baggage over the years. Which is fine. It gives the tinfoil hat people something to talk about. As for this blog, we’ve already discussed how the holiday has been altered in Asia. It is a day when women give men chocolate. The better the chocolate the hotter she is for your manly form. So, if it says Nestle’s on the wrapper, you will be monkey spanking tonight.

But, there is one country hanging out around Asia that gets a bad rap when it comes to Valentine’s day. I am, of course, speaking of China.

“Them Commie bastards usurping our sacred Christian rights …” is among the fascinating looks I have gotten into the brains of idiots. You see China, like every country in the world, has a celebration of love. Japan, for example, has a Penis Day. what better way is there to celebrate love than that?

Anyway, China gets hosed for supporting polygamy and lesbian incest. All fun, but also all false.

And here’s the best part, China’s romantic holiday doesn’t even fall on Valentine’s day.

I give you the day of seven sisters.

People in China too have a day devoted to love but it is quite different from Valentine’s Day festival as seen in other parts of the world. Chinese Valentine’s Day fall on the 7th day of the 7th lunar month in the Chinese Calendar. Hence the day is also called as ‘Festival of the Double Sevens’ or Qi Xi – ‘The Night of Sevens’. The other popular name for the Chinese Valentine’s Day is ‘Seven Sister’s Festival’ and ‘Daughter’s Festival’.

Legend behind Chinese Valentine’s Day 
There is a very interesting legend behind the festival of Valentine’s Day in China. The story goes that there once lived an orphaned poor boy called Niu Lang with his brother and sister-in-law. The handsome boy owned an old ox that he worked on the field everyday. The ox is said to be an immortal from the Paradise who was punished for mistakes in heaven and send on earth as an ox. The ox liked the cowherd and one day he said to Niu Lang, “You are a nice person. If you want to get married, go to the river and your wish will come true.”

When the Cowherd went to the stream he saw all the seven beautiful daughters of the Emperor who had come down from Heaven to take a bath. Niu Lang was captivated with the beauty of the youngest daughter Zhi Nu and secretly took away her fairy clothes. Without her fairy clothes the youngest daughter could not fly back to the heaven along with her sisters. The cowherd asked the fairy that he would return her clothes if she promised to marry him. The girl coyly agreed to marry the cowherd. They lived a happily married for several years and had two children.

One day, the ox felt that his last day was near. He told the cowherd that he should keep his hide for urgent situation after he dies. Meanwhile, Emperor began to miss his seventh daughter. He sent Zhi Nu’s grandmother to bring her back from the earth. The grandmother succeeded in bringing Zhi Nu back to heaven. While the 7th Princess was being taken away to the heaven, the cowboy wore the ox hide and carried his two children in the two bamboo baskets with his wife’s old fairy clothes and chased his wife in the sky. To keep the lovers separated forever the grandmother created a Milky Way between them. The seventh princess was moved to the star Vega in the Lyra (Harp) constellation while the cowherd with his two children stayed in the star Altair (Flying one) in the Aquila (Eagle) constellation. The star Vega is therefore popularly known by the name of the Weaving Maid Star whereas the star Altair as the Cowherd Star in China. The mother took pity and two were allowed to meet only once a year on the 7th day of 7th lunar month. It is believed that on this specific day magpies form a bridge with their wings for Zhi Nu to cross to meet her husband.

Celebrations of Chinese Valentine’s Day
The celebrations of Chinese Valentine’s Day or Qi Qiao Jie – the seventh eve is quite different from usual Valentine’s Day celebration we see in rest of the world. There are specific and colorful rituals for the day besides the usual exchange of flowers, cards and chocolates as tokens of love between lovers.

Following the tradition, lovers visit the Temple of Matchmaker on the Chinese Valentine’s Day and pray for their love and happiness and their possible marriage. Singles too visit the temple on the day and ask for their luck in love.

The Chinese Valentine Day is also known as the Daughter’s Festival. Chinese girls always wished to learn a good handcrafting skill like the weaving maid. On the night of the Chinese Valentine’s Day, unmarried girls offer prayers to the Weaving Maid star and seek blessings to become smarter. When the star Vega is high up in the sky, girls perform a test by putting a needle on the water surface. If the needle doesn’t sink, it’s a sign of girl’s maturity and smartness indicating she is eligible to find a husband. Girl who passes the test may ask for any one wish. It is also traditional for young girls in China to demonstrate their domestic arts, especially melon carving, on this day. Chinese Valentine’s Day is therefore also known as The Festival to Plead for Skills, The Seventh Sister’s Birthday and The Night of Skills.

In some provinces of China, people decorate the ox’s horn by flowers on the Chinese Valentine Day in a belief that the ritual will save them from catastrophe. Following the age old tradition women also wash hair to make them look fresh and shining. Children wash their face the next morning using the overnight water for a more natural and beautiful look.

Stargazers celebrate the festival by looking up at star Vega on the east of the Milky Way which represents Zhi Nu, and at the constellation Aquila, on the west side of the Milky Way, where Niu Lang waits for his lover to join him.

I know what you’re thinking.

“THANK GOD! We finally have proof of alien interventions!”

Okay, you’re not thinking that but some people are. To them the above story is proof. It is all they need.

Which is why they should forever be alone. We don’t ant that kind of crap seeping into our gene pool.

From all of us here at the World News Center, to all of you, have a safe and happy Valentine’s day.

For those of you who need a more western slant on things here’s a bit of what I wrote a year ago yesterday.

Valentine’s day is widely attributed to a celebration of the selfless death of St. Valentine. The problem arises when you try to figure out which one. Here’s what the Catholic church, the people who authorize saints, has to say; “At least three different Saint Valentines, all of them martyrs, are mentioned in the early martyrologies under date of 14 February. One is described as a priest at Rome, another as bishop of Interamna (modern Terni), and these two seem both to have suffered in the second half of the third century and to have been buried on the Flaminian Way, but at different distances from the city. In William of Malmesbury’s time what was known to the ancients as the Flaminian Gate of Rome and is now the Porta del Popolo, was called the Gate of St. Valentine. The name seems to have been taken from a small church dedicated to the saint which was in the immediate neighborhood. Of both these St. Valentines some sort of Acta are preserved but they are of relatively late date and of no historical value. Of the third Saint Valentine, who suffered in Africa with a number of companions, nothing further is known.”

But whether it was the fate of the 3rd century inmate who allegedly cured the jailer’s daughter’s blindness just before he was executed or one of the other guys, we do know that by the late 1400′s Chaucer was writing about the holiday in his Parliament of Foules.

For this was sent on Seynt Valentyne’s day
Whan every foul cometh ther to choose his mate.

What’s missing from the story thus far?

Some might say that I am missing the connection to the Lupercalia. They would be right. I have not discussed how Valentine’s day got connected to a pagan holiday. Nor did I mention how early Lupercalia lotteries were truly a prize worth winning. If you were an unmarried man and you won, you won a virgin. That beats the living hell out of a TV.

Yeah, the church had problems with that and the whole thing got watered down.

Just FYI, the first Valentine’s Day was celebrated in 496 and was made a holiday by Pope Gelasius. So it’s been around a while.

If you want to get all global with the thing, bust out a penis statue, steal the clothes of a bathing beauty and go forth and win a virgin. That should keep you busy for a while.

Lena and the Stone – Cha Cha Diva – Presented by Wolf Magazine from WOLF Magazine on Vimeo.

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I normally avoid writing about Black History Month for a couple of reasons. Mostly it’s because I’m not black. It’s basically the same reason I never write about menstrual cramps. I simply have no history with the cause. Still these lacks on my part have not prevented me from becoming friends with black people or women. Sometimes I hit the jackpot and became friends with a black woman. That’s called covering all your bases. Anyway, recently, I have been following the efforts of two people I respect and like, Jiba Molei Anderson & Mandell Cheeks. They are both artists who happen to be black. Since they write about what they know their characters tend to be black. I know they bemoan the industry standards that prevent their works from attaining wider appeal. But, to me, it was more of an abstraction. Certainly I know there are racists out there. The emails I got here when I lauded the teachings of Malcolm X made that abundantly clear. Still, being called names is not the same as being denied a living.

Nevertheless, as you regulars also know, I’ve been following the development of the Justice League movies, and there will be movies, with considerable interest, especially when they cast Gal Gadot as Wonder Woman.

For those of you who have lives allow me to elaborate. The actual Wonder Woman in the comics and the DC mythos is from an island near Greece and spoke a mix of Greek and Turkish. In other words, not English. If you click on Gal’s name I have the entire history of her character for you to read.

So by casting an Israeli native they are clearly going back to the true origin story. Which means they are looking to do more than just throw crap at the screen.

It also means that they will release the first superhero film with a female lead.

I could go on but for all intents and purposes it’s clear that the Warner vision for Justice League involves inclusion and depth.

You would think the nice people who created the source material would have been pleased by these developments.

You would be wrong, it seems, but there you are.

You see, as The Outhousers report, DC comics is celebrating Black History Month by turning some of their main black characters white.

Yesterday evening, Sue from DC Women Kicking Ass pointed out that this week’s comics included the debut of New 52 versions of two Green Arrow characters.  In Earth 2 #20, Major Sato calls Red Arrow Connor Hawke. Connor was originally the son of Oliver Queen, and took over his father’s role as Green Arrow after Queen was killed in a terrorist attack.  Red Arrow had previously been referred to in Earth 2 as Roy McQueen, so whether Connor is just an alias or his true name remains to be seen.

Meanwhile, in Green Arrow #28, Jeff Lemire and Andrea Sorrentino introduced the New 52 version of Onyx, a former League of Assassins member and ally of Green Arrow.  In the New 52, Onyx is the leader of the Fist Clan, one of the seven clans that make up the Outsiders.

So besides being Green Arrow characters, what do Connor Hawke and Onyx have in common?  In the old continuity, both characters were black (Connor was of Asian and black heritage), and in the New 52, they’re not.  Here’s Connor in the old continuity:

And here he is now:

Here’s Onyx pre-reboot:

And Onyx now:

Why DC decided to change the characters’ races isn’t really clear.  For a company that’s been so desperate to show how diverse their characters are, and has made real attempts to introduce more characters of color in their comics, it’s an unfortunate step back, and one that doesn’t really make sense.  In a world featuring a gay Green Lantern, an Arab Dr. Fate and a black Hawkgirl and Aquawoman, why is a previously mixed race character now white?

Of course, this little bit of whitewashing occurs on the first week of Black History Month due to a sad scheduling quirk, which makes it that much more embarassing.  It’ll be interesting to see what DC does with both characters, and if any of the creators involved will explain why they decided to make the change.   Regardless, this is a pretty clear counter reset.

I’ve got nothing. There is no rhyme or reason to these changes other than they ran out of dark brown ink. It was a mere two years ago when the comic book world kind of yawned and then continued living when Spider Man was rebooted as a half black, half Latino kid who might be gay.

The reboot is doing well and the original still lives.

Alternate universes and all that.

And maybe that’s it. Someone at DC wants to imagine a universe where there’s nobody but white people.

I’m sure that will work out well.

DragonCon 2013 – Cosplay Music Video 1-2 from SpendthriftMonk on Vimeo.

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We do seem to live on a world run by idiots. I have long held that the Olympics are the most corrupt and useless display of nothing the world has ever seen. This year, however, the whole thing seems hell bent on proving that I’m the master of understatement. The nice people over at Deadspin have been chronicling each and every misadventure. To summarize, the hotels aren’t built. Sewers are a rumor. If you do get a hotel room it may or may not have running water and if you do get water it may contain multiple lethal toxins which can cause flesh to peel. One reporter wrote about how his bed was covered in semen. Oh, and due the fact that the construction displaced thousands of wild dogs Russian authorities are now poisoning them in the streets where people can see. Did I mention that they are holding the Winter Olympics in a summer resort that is known for housing mobsters and politicians? Often the same thing in Russia. I really should have. That last part is why athletes are losing their minds over the unsafe conditions on the snow related courses. Since the snow is fake and the courses appear to have been designed by a 12 year old who liked Grand Theft Auto a little too much. One snowboarding event features 120 degree turns and a 70 foot jump. Several athletes have been hospitalized just testing the course and one, American Shaun White, quit the event.

So, yeah, this was an incredibly bad idea. That cost $51 BIL to screw up.

Yes, BIL as in Billion.

Still, this is a bad idea borne of greed and corruption and it will play out as it plays out. At this point all I can do is hope no athlete dies trying to compete in this mess.

Closer to home and on a less epic scale a group of adults in Medford NY, halfway between Rockaway and the Hamptons, decided to have a party.

Good idea.

They decided to allow tasteful nudity.

Better idea.

They decided to make it a sleep over.

GREAT IDEA!!!

And the decided to hold it in a children’s play center.

Oh hell.

The nice people at CBS News have the whole story.

An adult pajama party hosted after hours inside a children’s entertainment facility had parents on Long Island furious Tuesday night.

Krazy Kidz, in Medford, N.Y., has been under fire ever since it hosted an event this past Saturday night promoted via Meetup.com, and titled, “Jungle Gym & Pajama All-Night Dance Party: For Grown Ups Who Won’t Grow Up,” reports CBS New York.

“That’s not how you generate extra money. It’s a kids’ place,” Samantha Gray said. “And they have an adult nude sleepover?”

Gray was supposed to drop off students for an after-school function at the popular children’s party center, but she found it had been abruptly closed for a “thorough sanitizing,” as stated by the owners of Krazy Kidz.

Krazy Kidz has been in the public crosshairs since local parents got wind of fliers and invitations distributed by the private group that rented the facility out for the adult party, which included body painting, Jello wrestling, pillow fights and a Twister contest.

“THIS IS JUST GOOD CLEAN WHOLESOME FUN. There will be no orgy, smut, strippers, or sexually lewd content …… however… there will be tasteful nudity…feety pajamas…and probably little nighties,” the invitation said.

But parents who take their children to the facility did not believe the adult party amounted to “good, clean, wholesome fun.”

“Most of my friends and everybody who’s talking about it will refuse to go there now,” said parent Elissa Trusnovec of Yaphank.

The invitation said there would be “ABSOLUTELY NO CAMERAS ALLOWED,” although some semi-professional photographers and a photo booth would be set up.

But what appeared to be candid shots ended up on social media anyway. Partygoers posted photos showing what appeared to be naked revelers enjoying themselves on the equipment and floors at the children’s entertainment center.

And as the postings went viral, they elicited hundreds of comments.

“Usually I would say this place is great. However, after seeing the pictures from a private adult party the other night,” one woman wrote on Facebook. “I will never spend my money to have my children play where ‘adults partied naked and god only knows what else.’ I hope the money was worth it. Because you will lose a lot more because of this.”

“GROSS!” another wrote. “There has to be some sort of police involvement over this!”

Melissa Webster of Holbrook also commented, and told CBS New York such a party simply was not appropriate at a children’s facility.

“I said online that, to each his own. You can do what you like to do – but not at a children’s facility,” she said. “I actually have concerns for sanitary.”

The owners did not immediately respond to requests for comment from CBS New York, but Krazy Kidz did address the party on its own Facebook page.

Krazy Kidz first said “the event was no different (than) an ordinary Halloween party that you would hold at your home,” and emphasized that the venue was thoroughly cleaned afterward.

“Please understand that our staff was not involved in this event and they look forward to continuing to serve the public,” Krazy Kidz added on Facebook. “In addition, our private party facility rental policy is currently under review to prevent any such misunderstandings from occurring in the future.”

Krazy Kidz said it would remain closed for additional cleaning Tuesday and would reopen Wednesday.

“The staff at Krazy Kidz continues to apologize for the obvious lack of judgment that has resulted in everyone’s concerns and comments,” the venue said on Facebook.

Parents’ opinions varied Tuesday on whether further consequences were warranted for Krazy Kidz.

“It’s privately owned, so I don’t think you can tell them how to use their facility. (But) I don’t agree with it,” said Sharon D’Andrea of Sayville.

“They should be definitely closed down and cited for that – absolutely,” added Julie Edwards of Medford.

The Town of Brookhaven received complaints and said it is investigating. As of Tuesday, it appeared no local codes were broken.

Dear Julie Edwards, pull the stick out lady. Your kids weren’t there. No one’s were.

Still, if management thinks that the average Halloween party consists of nude body painting and see through nighties, then I have GOT to hang with them soon.

Okay, in some seriousness, this is like throwing a porn party at Chuuck-E-Cheeze. At what point did this get past the “Wow, we were really hammered last night” stage? Why not just rent a small hall at a hotel and have it decorated with kids games. Then you can lock the doors and have at it.

I’ve been to something like that and can assure you that fun was had.

And that’s all I need to say about that.

As you can see, when a good idea stays a good idea then everyone has a pleasant memory. Just not on film or in a police report.

Slumber Party from andrew kuykendall on Vimeo.

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People are gullible. They see something on the internet and assume it’s true. This is called “stupid.” For example, many of you have been passing around the nice picture of Colombian torero Álvaro Múnera with the attenuate story of how he looked into the bull’s eyes and quit bullfighting. It’s a lovely story. It’s also complete bull. The sitting crying thing? That’s actually called “desplante” (defiance) and is used to taunt the bull. Also the guy named in the picture isn’t the guy in the picture. But, other than that everything’s dead on. Another fun one is the one that claims that Pope Francis claimed that “all religions are true.” He, allegedly, did this at the 3rd Synod. There is not now, nor has there ever been, a 3rd Synod. Nor does the Vatican have any plans for one. Another bit of fluffery making the rounds is contained in all the vitriol being heaped upon Coca-Cola. If you missed it they created and aired an ad called “America is Beautiful” that featured the song America the Beautiful sung in many languages. I found it haunting and wonderful. Some of the less enlightened were appalled, APPALLED I TELL YOU, that Coke had besmirched our national anthem. Where to begin? The National anthem is the Star Spangled Banner. America the Beautiful was written by Katharine Lee Bates, an out of the closet lesbian who loathed xenophobia. In other words, odds are she would have loved the commercial. There is no question she would have hated the haters.

And yet the stupid marches on.

Robin Warder, over at Cracked, tells the cautionary tales of 5 people who tried to create their own little diversions.

We as a people love nothing more than a nice, sensational crime story, even if it turns out to be a complete fabrication. A particularly juicy tale of illegal activity will be trending on Twitter before anyone remembers what the words “fact” and “check” mean when paired together.

It’s a shame, too, because sometimes these terrifying crimes turn out to be complete fabrications. And that’s when things get really weird …

#5. Man Courts Ex-Girlfriend With Staged Knife Attack and Fake Hate Mail

For years, Chris Cotter had an on-off relationship with Ashia Hansen, triple jumper extraordinaire and a clear gold medal favorite at the 2000 Summer Olympics.

A few months before the Olympics, the two had practically broken up, but still decided to have dinner at Hansen’s place. She was shocked when Cotter showed up at her doorstep bleeding and barely conscious, with a deep cut on his forehead and three stab wounds on his back. He had been attacked by a group of knife-wielding racists, who showed him in no uncertain terms what they thought of his interracial relationship with Hansen. Soon afterward, Hansen (and a number of other black athletes, and a Member of Parliament) started getting threatening letters, allegedly from the same racist hate group that attacked Cotter.

The situation sucked exactly as much ass as you’d imagine being stalked by a bunch of murderous racists would, but at least the attack helped rekindle Hansen’s relationship with Cotter. Surely they would conquer this obstacle together and live happily ever after.

Well, that was Cotter’s idea, anyway … right up until the police turned up and arrested his ass.

The Real Story:

Cotter had staged the entire thing to win Hansen back. Yes, knives in the back and everything. We’d like to think he did the whole thing for love, but since he was also heavily in debt at the time, we’re guessing a potential gold medalist girlfriend (and the chance to sell their sensational story to the media) probably seemed like a nice little bonus.

Here’s how it went down: Helped by two accomplices, Cotter first inflicted the injuries on himself — a project he took so seriously that he wound up losing well over two pints of blood. While he was in the hospital, his buddies mailed the racist letters to Hansen and the others in an attempt to give more credibility to Cotter’s white supremacist story. However, the goons’ Nazi letter writing skills proved inadequate and, after finding various inconsistencies in Cotter’s story, the police eventually arrested the whole trio.

Even if it had worked, Cotter’s little stab (sorry) at sociopathy ignored the fact that real people have feelings. Hansen was thoroughly devastated by the whole ordeal, and her performance suffered accordingly: She wound up finishing 11th at the Olympics, at least partly because of the ball of extreme stress her life had suddenly become.

#4. Family Fakes Son’s Murder to Get Back at Neighbors

Edward Mpagi had been living a perfectly normal, non-murderous life in Uganda when he and his cousin were suddenly arrested in 1981. They were charged with the robbery and murder of Mpagi’s neighbor, George Wandyaka, and sentenced to death. For Mpagi, this was a particularly crappy scenario for several reasons. In Uganda, condemned prisoners aren’t given any notice about the time of their execution. They just have to sit there and wait for the call. For years. The generally accepted term for this is “total bullshit.”

But that wasn’t the thing that pissed Mpagi off. What really got under his skin was that he thought he’d seen George Wandyaka standing in the courtroom during his trial.

The Real Story:

No, the supposedly murdered man wasn’t haunting Mpagi to avenge his death. George Wandyaka was in fact perfectly alive and didn’t give a damn who knew it.

Over the next few years, there would be numerous sightings of the “dead” man throughout Uganda. Evidence started piling up, Mpagi’s case was reopened, and by 1989, investigators confirmed that Wandyaka was totally alive. Still, authorities were reluctant to admit their colossal fuckup: Despite overwhelming evidence of Wandyaka’s continuing corporeal existence, Mpagi was not released from death row for another 11 goddamned years. When a presidential pardon finally set him free, he had been locked up for two full decades and lost his cousin — who, of course, was also innocent — to malaria.

The whole fake murder thing had been an elaborate scheme by Wandyaka’s parents, who held a massive grudge against Mpagi’s parents. For some reason, they decided that the best way to get revenge was to fake their own son’s death and frame Mpagi and his cousin for the crime. They bribed a pathologist to give a false statement of Wandyaka’s postmortem. This was all it took to get Mpagi and his cousin convicted.

Today, Mpagi spends most of his time as a hardcore activist against the death penalty, traveling the world and soiling his opponents’ pants with his patented 20-years-on-the-row glare. As for Wandyaka, he died in 2002, presumably for real this time. As far as we know, his family didn’t frame anyone.

#3. Preacher Skips Town and Accidentally Fakes His Death

The year was 1908. Reverend James Smith was the veteran preacher at a church in Virginia when a younger priest called Ernest Lyons was brought in to help him. Smith immediately became suspicious that Lyons was going to replace him, and the two men grew a hearty dislike for one another. One day, witnesses even overheard a heated argument where Lyons threatened to kill Smith.

After this, Smith mysteriously disappeared, and then an unidentified, badly decomposed body was found in a river near the church, killed by a blow to the head. Since the corpse’s clothes resembled Smith’s attire, it was pretty clear he was the victim. Lyons was promptly arrested and sentenced to 18 years in prison for second-degree murder.

Shortly after his conviction, Lyons revealed that there was more to the case than a simple rage-murder: He not only confessed to the crime, but named three other people as his accomplices, insinuating that Smith was murdered as part of a larger church conspiracy.

The Real Story:

Reverend Smith was alive and well all along, hanging out in North Carolina with the church funds he had stolen. Yeah — remember that argument where Lyons threatened Smith’s life? That fight was about many things, including the fate of $45 of the congregation’s money. After Lyons left, Smith decided to steal the money (a king’s ransom of $1,153, adjusted for inflation) and run, accidentally faking his death in the process when, by pure coincidence, a completely random body floated ashore and was mistaken for his corpse.

Smith’s absence was a complete mystery to Lyons, especially as murder accusations suddenly started flying his way. That whole thing about a church conspiracy stemmed from this bewilderment: The three people Lyons specifically named as a part of his conspiracy clique had coincidentally just testified against him in court. They were arrested just because he said they were guilty and released the second it became apparent that Lyons was lying his ass off and basically just framing people out of bitterness. See, that’s what most movies get wrong — the fact that you’re wrongfully convicted doesn’t automatically mean you’re not a total dick.

Speaking of total dicks, James Smith always knew that an innocent man was serving time in prison for his “murder.” He had read the papers and knew Lyons was charged with the crime, but never bothered to do anything because he was worried about the consequences of revealing that he was alive. Smith would probably have let Lyons rot in jail for the entirety of his sentence if a circuit court clerk had not discovered he was still very much around. Three years after Lyons’ conviction, the man he had supposedly murdered finally returned to Virginia to prove that he was not dead and the body in the river (which was never identified) belonged to someone else. Reverend Lyons was immediately pardoned and released from prison, presumably after agreeing to give Smith a 30-minute head start.

#2. Two Police Officers Fistfight, Fabricate Assault to Explain Injuries

In the early morning hours of March 1, 1993, Yonkers, New York, police officer Thomas Drogan was taken to a medical center because his face was a mass of bruises and cuts. He had been brutally attacked and beaten up by a huge, unidentified black male.

Since a cop had been assaulted and Drogan’s story of the incident was backed up by other officers, a police alert was immediately issued and the area was thoroughly searched. At least one person was detained and questioned, but no arrests were ever made. It looked like the Case of the Giant Cop Puncher would forever remain a mystery.

The Real Story:

Drogan’s injuries had been sustained in a fistfight … with another cop.

Drogan had gotten into a scuffle with one of his fellow officers, Louis Papaleo, who had responded to the same alert about a burning car. The two men could not agree on whose duty it was to file the paperwork after the incident, so they decided to solve the situation like the valiant officers of the law they were: by beating the ever-loving snot out of each other. Although they were initially restrained by the other officers at the scene, their animosity remained, and the fisticuffs continued on to their precinct. Yes, we’re saying they kept punching each other in the face right there in the police station.

Papaleo eventually claimed victory by bloodying Drogan’s face. At that point, both men realized they had just made the stupidest move of their lives. Actually, the second stupidest — the most stupid move came a couple of minutes later, when they decided to explain Drogan’s injuries by blaming it all on a nonexistent black dude and getting their co-workers to verify that story. You know, because fabricating a report about a fictitious assault and making sure every single eyewitness keeps their story straight until the end of time is much easier than, say, saying you fell on the stairs and just filling out the paperwork on that damn burning car.

In the end, one of the witnessing cops had enough of Drogan and Papaleo’s shit and revealed their shenanigans to their superiors. The two fighters and the officers they had gotten to sign official reports of the “attack” were promptly caught and punished. Papaleo received a 60-day suspension, and Drogan was fired from the force.

#1. Actor Fights Fascism by Terrorizing a Country With Nazi Hate Crimes

Dutch actor Jules Croiset is a prominent thespian, with a career spanning over 50 years. In his spare time, he enjoys throwing his considerable weight around in various anti-fascist movements, which may have something to do with his mother abandoning his Jewish father to marry a Nazi collaborator when he was 2. Shit like that leaves scars, man.

A rare time when calling your step-parent “a total fascist” is completely accurate.

In 1987, a German play called Garbage, the City, and Death was scheduled to open in Rotterdam. The controversial piece featured prostitutes, pimps, and a powerful character named “the Rich Jew,” which caused Croiset’s activist instincts to flare right the hell up. He single-handedly managed to build up such a strong backlash against the production that it had to be cancelled. However, that wasn’t the end of the story.

A little later, Croiset was visiting Belgium when he was kidnapped by three young neo-fascists in retaliation for getting the play cancelled. The theater-loving trio of teen Nazis dragged the actor into a sewer, where they ripped his Star of David pendant from his neck and smeared a swastika on his chest (he didn’t specify what they smeared him with, and frankly we’re fine with this). Croiset was held captive and abused for hours before he managed to escape.

“I found a pair of nunchucks next to a pile of old pizza boxes and fought my way to freedom.”

This happened during a time when the Netherlands was going through an oddly heavy bout of fascist activity. Apart from the incident with the play, several prominent Jewish citizens had gotten threatening letters. There was even a bomb threat against one predominantly Jewish event. Croiset’s kidnapping was the last straw — his ordeal made headlines. Demonstrations were staged, political speeches were given, everyone was angry. But not as angry as they would soon be … at Croiset.

The Real Story:

That wave of neo-Nazi activity that had been plaguing the country? It had a name, and that name was Jules Croiset.

Things started unraveling when it turned out Croiset’s kidnapping story was complete horseshit. He made up the whole incident and gave such a convincing performance describing it that everyone — from cops to media to politicians to the adoring public — believed him.

One month after the alleged kidnapping, the police started noticing inconsistencies in the story, so they decided to question Croiset more thoroughly. That’s when the actor finally broke down and confessed that the entire incident was a hoax. Once his facade cracked, it soon became apparent that a lot of his activism had been tainted with the same “anything goes” attitude. Remember that Nazi bomb threat we mentioned earlier? In an attempt to prove that a certain play called Garbage, the City, and Death was in no way anti-Semitic despite what some people say, its producers had arranged a private performance for the Jewish community. Said performance was abruptly cancelled due to an anonymous bomb threat call. Guess which famous actor was behind that shit?

Croiset also confessed to writing a bunch of threatening letters using a fake group called the Dutch Fascist Youth Front as an alias and sending them to prominent members of the Jewish community, including himself. One of the letters went to his wife and threatened the lives of their two children. Smooth, Jules, real smooth.

In the end, Jules Croiset managed to get away with little more than a slap on the wrist (he is still acting today), since his entire message was “Nazis are bad,” and apparently that excuses any behavior, no matter how batshit (including, again, threatening the lives of his own wife and children). We’re betting he still sleeps on the couch, though.

Just as with the whimsical examples I cited to start this blog each and every one these could have been avoided had anyone even tried looking for the truth.

That little bon mot holds true more than I care to think.

So, before you condemn or laud someone based on a single piece of evidence, do us all a favor and look into it.

I’ll even give you a helpful tip; if you go to four different web sites and they have the same story verbatim, or very close, then you are reading propaganda not news. You can keep that shit to yourself.

And if anyone tells you not to vaccinate your child, ask them – in a very firm tone – to move far away from you. You don’t want to get infected with that level of stupid.

Ukulele Sweetheart behind the scenes_uncensored NSFW version from Porphyria Suicide on Vimeo.

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