Censored Sound

       Tipper Gore. A name that still brings shivers to an entire generation. If you didn't happen to be alive in the 80's, Gore co-founded the Parents Music Resource Center (PMRC). The PMRC's goal was to censor music that was deemed unsanitary by them. During a Senate hearing in 1985 on the PMRC's proposal to censor undesirable music, Frank Zappa, Twisted Sister frontman Dee Snider, and... um, John Denver eloquently spoke out against the righteous PMRC.

Pictured: PMRC

       Frank Zappa in particular may have spoken just a little bit too eloquently. In his argument, he compared the PMRC to a "sinister kind of 'toilet training program' to house-break all composers." He went on to peacefully state his opinion, commenting on how the PMRC acquired a Senate inquiry: "a couple of blow jobs here and there and bingo, you get a hearing!" 

      Shortly after the inquiry, the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA), began labeling certain albums with "Parental Advisory" stickers at the PMRC's behest. Rather unsurprisingly, Frank Zappa's newest album at the time, the Grammy winning Jazz from Hell, was bannered with one such sticker. What was surprising though, is that the album is entirely instrumental. 

That guitar sounds... naughty.

      Whether the album was label because of it's devastatingly evil song titles, such as G-spot Tornado, or just because the PMRC held a grudge, is unknown. But I'm gonna go out on a limb and lean towards the latter. 

                                    

It's Raining Sharks

Many people believe the classic cinema "Sharknado" is completely fictitious. Well, those people are fools, because sometimes live sharks fall out of the sky. 

Take that intelligent people. 

Anyway, one of the best (and only) tale of a live shark falling out of the sky, occurred in October of 2012, in a golf course in Capistrano, California. 

The club's course marshal (the guy who yells at people playing too slowly) happened upon the 2-foot leopard shark In a tree. 

The marshal was flabbergasted to find the animal still alive, so he threw it in the back of his gold cart and took it back to the lodge. Only there did someone suggest putting the shark in some water. 

The marshal then put the tank containing the resilient fish in his car, then proceed to drive to the ocean and release the creature; giving the proverbial middle finger to fate. 

It is theorized that the small shark was snatched by an osprey (one of the only birds in the area that could pick up a fish that heavy). The osprey then dropped the shark, for some reason. 

The more likely possibility though: Sharknado.

Appetite of an Emperor

What is the strangest thing you have ever eaten? Your neighbors consistently noisy cat? Your dirty laundry from when you just finished camping? A hamburger from Burger King? In any case, your pansy diet is nothing  compared to the ludicrous pallet of Emperor Heliogabalus of Rome.

Hint hint

Crowned at the spiffing age of 14, Heliogabalus proceeded to rule over the empire like, well, a 14 year old. Unsuspecting guests at his palace would often sit down to find whoopee cushions on their seats as they sat down to eat (some jokes are funny enough to transcend centuries). 

It is said that Heliogabalus never spent less than 10,000 sesterces ( around $1,000) on a meal. A typical feast for the gluttonous emperor might include an entire pig stuffed with live thrushes, a conger eel fattened of human slave meat, and/or sow's breasts with Lybian truffles. He also nurtured a particular fondness for bird's brains. He consumed the brains of, to name a few, thrushes, parrots, peacocks, and pheasants. He once ordered 600 ostrich heads solely for the divine purpose of brain consumption. He was like an eccentric zombie Big Bird.

"Thanks Google!"

Additionally, he financed a private fishing fleet for the sole purpose of harvesting a specific type of caviar. And if he ever had to eat something as mundane as say rice, he would season it with pieces of gold.

After 4 years of rule, Heliogabalus' reign came to a sudden halt thanks to assassination; but not before  he almost exhausted all of his empire's funds on bird brain.

House o' Bubble Wrap

Sometimes, inventors will invent an incredibly awesome product, but will have no idea how to utilize it. Such was the fate of play dough, aluminum foil, and bubble wrap.

Also like my new invention: WoodBoxWithStringsThatMakesNoiseGood (patent pending).

"But..." you may be thinking, "What else could bubble wrap possibly be used for?" The answer? Wallpaper. Inventors Alfred W. Fielding and Mark Chavannes originally peddled their product as the hip new thing in interior design. 

Unfortunately, it sold terribly. Not ones to be deterred by a little failure, the inventors set their sights on a new target market: greenhouse insolation. Predictably, the product failed miserably again. 

"Dammit Frank stop popping the walls and get back to work!"

And failed product it would have stayed, if it weren't for up and coming computer giant IBM. Fielding and Cavannes sold them their product to IBM, who wrapped their delicate, expensive, and cutting edge 1401 computer model in old wallpaper and shipped it to customers. Needless to say, it was instantly a huge hit.

Knee-high in Cobras

British controlled India had some problems. The British invaders were destroying India's religions, changing their government, and forcing them speak a whole new language. And also snakes were everywhere. More specifically cobras, which are statistically the worst type of snake to have everywhere.

The British governor of Delhi, none too pleased about said snakes, decided to offer a bounty on cobra skins. He figured a little money for one less venomous monster slithering around his city would do everyone a little good. The crowdsourced extermination took off all according to plan, the civilian population began slaughtering everything with scales they could get their hands on.

But the government, in their overzealousness for getting rid of the snakes, made one small mistake. They set the bounty for the skins too high. Namely, the reward for one dead snake was a significantly greater amount of money than it cost to breed and raise one.

You can see where this is going.

Many people realized that it was much easier to simply sit at home and raise cobras, compared to going out and actually hunting them. This realization gave birth to an entirely new profession: the snake farmer. Eventually the government, realizing the scaled mini-satans were still everywhere, caught on to the racket and called off the bounty. Predictably, this resulted in the snake farmers returning to their day jobs; loosing their worthless/terrifying stock into the city. Which, ironically, resulted in a much larger/terrifying infestation.

Operation Ghost-Fox

The Office of Strategic Services (O.S.S.) was a US intelligence agency formed during WWI. It preceded the Central Intelligence Agency (C.I.A.). It was formed with the purpose of coordinating espionage activities behind enemy lines. And all of the people with leadership positions in it had questionable sanity at best.

Here's an excellent example. So when the US was battling Japan, some OSS agents heard of a Japanese superstition surrounding fox spirits with shape-shifting abilities. So in reaction to the news, the OSS planned to release a bunch of glow in the dark foxes into Japan in hopes of... scaring them or something? But alas, sources revealed that the "spirit fox" folklore was fake. So the OSS, realizing the stupidity of the operation in the first place, abandoned the whole thin- Ha! No this is the OSS we're talking about, instead of abandonment, they moved on to developing their furry super weapon.

"Get our scientists working on shape-shifting foxes right away."

The OSS tested their assault of the coast of New York by dumping a bunch of foxes that had been dipped in phosphorus into the ocean. Predictably, all of the foxes swam in the wrong direction and promptly drowned. 

Tax dollars at work.

At that moment, someone realized that the whole project was incredibly silly. So the OSS scrapped the whole project, and moved on to bigger and better things. Things like shipping hundreds of barrels of yellow dye to Cambodia in order to dye one of the largest rivers in the world, only later to find that the dye didn't work. 

In my opinion the OSS' ideas were less based on whether or
not their idea would be effective, and more on whether or
not their idea would be something a cartoon supervillian would attempt. 

The "Free" French Army

Back in World War II, Germany obliterated the French government early on in the war. Not wanting his country to go down without a fight, Gen. de Gaulle went abroad and formed an army of resistance fighters from French territories in Africa.

Not only did de Gaule's rag tag army consist of native Africans, it also included Arabs, Tahitians, and French officers.

Anyway, the dubbed "Free French Army" went on to do incredibly well in the war, something not usually affiliated with the French at the time. They carved a bloody path all the way to Paris, where they were ready to liberate the capitol united with British and American allies. That is, until the allies said "Yea, this victory is kind of a whites only type of thing."

"Please enjoy this $5 Bed Bath and Beyond gift card for your troubles."

De Gaulle had to quickly replace anyone in his army who had failed the melanin test with more easily-sunburnable persons or else he could not take part in the liberation. This of course, was difficult because this was his problem in the first place. He ended up dressing a bunch of Spanish soldiers as French ones, and hoped that no one would care at that point.

Meanwhile, the Africans were deported back to Africa. They at least got to enjoy the benefits of having served... well until 1959, when the French Government inexplicably cut off all of their military pensions and attempted to erase their entire evolvement in the war.

But hey, it just goes to show that all we need is love to get along.
And Nazis to fight.