Cats. Must. DIE!

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Every once in a while, a reader sends me a link to something I’ve already dealt with (and that’s OK, I don’t expect everyone to have committed the entirety of the Pharyngula database to memory), but it’s a link to something so dang weird it’s worth reposting. In this case, I was sent a link to a page that purports to describe the beliefs of some Jehovah’s Witnesses about cats, where among many other jaw-dropping arguments, it gives us this jewel:

Indeed, modern studies of classification of cats, while not necessarily being reliable as they may be based on the discredited ‘theory’ of evolution, strongly associate felines with serpents (despite some external differences in physiology and morphology, which confuse those who do not study these matters deeply).

The consensus of the previous discussion was that the site is probably a satire, although it hews so close to the insanity of the actual religion that it’s hard to tell. It’s still funny either way, though. It’s also a good excuse to quote one of my favorite fantasy authors, Tanith Lee.

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I thought I’d never vote for a vampire, but…

So, in the last election, we Minnesotans briefly enjoyed the company of a vampire running for governor. Unfortunately, Jonathon “The Impaler” Sharkey was arrested before the election and we missed out on the potentially amusing spectacle.

Somehow, though, he is now free (damn those cunning vampires!), and is planning to run for president. As a most interesting and admittedly tempting part of his campaign platform, he is promising to impale GW Bush if elected.

He’s crazy, I wouldn’t have given him a chance, but dang if he didn’t come up with a vote-getting idea. They’re cunning, those vampires, they’ve had centuries to think up these plans. If he tossed Cheney in as a bonus, he might just sweep the election.

Oh. My. Gog. Gospel mimes?

Here, you can have nightmares too. I could hardly believe this topic that came up in the comments: gospel mimes. I thought it had to be some cynical joke, that no one would combine those two things…but it’s real. There are plenty of examples on YouTube, and jpf dug up a list:

I know. My jaw hit the floor, just like yours. If Koran Bratz exist, to name two random and normally unlinked horrors, please don’t tell me.

The Strange Case of the Woman with a Breast on her Foot

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Stevie C sent along this article on
An unusual presentation of supernumerary breast tissue (just what were you googling for, Stevie?), in which a woman reports an annoying growth on her foot, and when examined, is discovered to have a breast growing there, complete with nipple and fatty tissue (but in this case, no glandular tissue).

It’s in the Dermatology Online Journal, not the Onion.

I hadn’t heard of this before myself, but it’s fascinating. These supernumerary breasts can pop up all over the place, including the face, back, and thigh (and foot, obviously). They can be functionally complete, and can even lactate. The authors report some weak and sometimes contradicted associations with other oddities, but no causal mechanism is known. These cases of autonomous self-organization and recruitment of organs are extremely interesting—it suggests that a breast would be a fairly easy tissue to grow in a dish. I’d love to know what the molecular signal for initiating differentiation—I suspect it’s something simple and common.

You’ve got to respect tradition

In Serbia, vandals broke into Slobodan Milosevic’s tomb and drove a stake through his heart to keep him from “returning from the dead to haunt the country”. I think that’s utterly charming.

When I go, I’d figured the best plan would be to donate my body to science, or to be cremated…but now I’m thinking it would be really cool if crazed folk dug my body up, chopped it to bits, put a stake through it, and maybe paraded the head around town on a pike. I wonder if there is a funeral plan for that?

(via The Pagan Prattle)

The Antarctic octopus gets farked

Fark is having an octopus photoshop contest — most of the entries make me go “eh”, but there are a few nice ones.

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Phil Plait thinks this could be a symbol of rapprochement between the brilliant analysts of the natural world at Pharyngula and those slack-jawed people who stare dully at the sky at Bad Astronomy. (I kid, astronomers probably think a little bit now and then, too.)

The Calamari Wrestler

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A recent article on Deep Sea News mentions the Ritual of 365 Points—since this is such an important reference to cephalophiliacs, I thought I’d repost my summary of a classic movie that hinges on it as a plot point.

I have seen The Calamari Wrestler. It was…indescribable. I won’t even try. The basic idea, though, is that it’s about pro wrestling in Japan, with a dying wrestler who undergoes a magical transformation in Pakistan to keep him alive, which also allows him to become a super-star in the ring. He battles rivals to learn a heartwarming secret at the end.

I’ve put a few frames below the fold. Don’t try to view them as a narrative; this is a surreal movie about wrestling invertebrates.

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