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Learning Day: Exo-Vaticana, Part 1
Category: LEARNING DAY
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We like to have fun here at 1900Hotdog. We like it so friggin’ much we’re dedicating a whole week to discussing those daffy, zany, tomfoolery-filled, hijinks-having Golden Age comics. Still, it’s important we remember that during the age when these comics were thriving, some people were suffering, and those people were the old white men who had to deal with Dizzy Dames! Screwballs in Skirts!
It was 1952, the good old days when men were so magically horny they could sniff your pantyhose through your television. When women constantly went around screaming FRESH at them like they were in a guerilla Subway commercial. That man doesn’t look fresh at all! He’s at least forty years old.
Dizzy Dames is amazing. A perfect no bullshit goddamn shrine to why we need diversity in comedy writing rooms. This anthology comic about women getting into shenanigans was written by two or three white dudes with nine ideas between them, and they just recycled those jokes over and over again. Like most titles in the ’40s and ’50s, it’s an anthology comic, so there are usually five stories in each issue. I read twenty-five stories, there were only nine jokes in them, and they were all very dumb. These are the nine jokes the Dizzy Dames writers think are comedy gold:
They take these classic japes and weave them around tales of women falsely accusing men of wronging them in some way. It’s important to remember the man has done nothing wrong! It’s always the woman’s fault. The woman has merely misunderstood a perfectly rational man and is flying off the handle with her big lady emotions and doubling down on how terrible the man has been. Then sometimes other men get involved and get angry at the first guy who pissed off this crazy broad but don’t worry– eventually, the police always show up, or on rare occasions, a rational woman comes along to make it clear that if the man didn’t hit you, he did nothing wrong!
“What’s the fuss about, blowjob lips? A little stick hittin’ and child abandonment?”
“Well, from one screwball-in-a-skirt to another, I don’t believe you or have any questions!”
Look at these women and their crocodile tears, trying to ruin perfectly respectable men with their crazy eye juice tricks. You won’t believe how the men in these comics suffer at the hands of women! Just look, look at what Moronica did to respectable businessman Tony Spumoni!
He’s not even sure he’s-a Tony Spumoni! He could be-a anyone! Moronica ravaged this man’s life with her stupidity, something that happens over and over again in these comics. If there’s a main character in Dizzy Dames, it’s Moronica. She does it all. She’s very dumb, doesn’t understand metaphors, makes animals super horny, and makes her boss wish he was dead. Like, out loud:
“I wish I was dead!” This hilarious screwball punchline is used over and over again in this comic. It’s like fireworks at the end of a baseball game on the fourth of July. You know it’s coming, but you’re still like, oh yeah baby, there it is when it shows up.
Anyway, back to Moronica. Her two main tasks in the comic are to serve as a device for making animals horny, because again so funny, and to look for a job. If the comic had gone on longer, they probably would have found a way to give her a job making animals horny, and the writers would have absolutely pooped their pants in joy.
Think how happy local sex pest, Charlie Gunkwhistle, will be when he hears Moronica mentioned him with her dying breath.
“Miss… Moronica? Your test results came back… well, let’s just say they are astonishing. This question is going to sound unusual, but have you recently traded literal gallons of mouth and eyeball fluid with a monkey?”
When Moronica falls into a lake, even the fish swim up and kiss her. Maybe some of these animals have more wholesome intentions with Moronica, but others most definitely don’t:
I think the implication here is that Moronica is going to JO those chickens? Or she already attempted to? And one of them is into it, but the other’s unsure? That’s honestly the least nasty version of what I think could possibly be going on in this cover. (Sean, you grew up on a chicken farm. If I am misunderstanding a very wholesome joke that’s not about pulling the semen out of chickens and putting it in a bucket, please cut this part.)
Editor’s Note: Oh, she’s definitely jerking off those chickens, but the joke doesn’t work because they’re girls and the farmer is trying to stop it. He’d be so into this. When you hire a bikini girl farmhand and she cheerfully heads off to try masturbating every animal, real farmers call that a Best Case Scenario. Anyway, assuming the author knows what chickens are, this dizzy dame has filled at least one previous bucket with shit she cranked out of those hens’ cloacas. Which means I’ve come around on it. I now love this joke.
Monica gets into scrapes with these horny animals all the time. Like, once a monkey climbed into her window, and she thought it was a little boy, so she tried to adopt it! Because as we all know, if you put clothes on a monkey, it’s pretty much indistinguishable from a person. It’s not just Moronica who can’t tell it’s a monkey. Her landlady sees the monkey and thinks he’s a short guy she’s pretending is her little brother so she can sneak him into her room and have sex with him.
Eventually, the landlady realizes he’s a monkey because he swings from a chandelier. Another weird Dizzy Dames trope is that all monkeys must hang from chandeliers. If they do it by their hands, you still can’t tell it’s a monkey, though.
She says humans don’t swing from chandeliers like that because there’s another story in a different Dizzy Dames book where Screwball Sally, another recurring character, doesn’t have a date to a dance, so she goes to the pound, adopts an ape, puts a suit on it and brings it to the dance. Everyone there is like, “Wow, your date is really tall and hot!” and not like, “That’s an ape!” Which is honestly pretty funny. Maybe there’s something to this funny, horny animals thing after all!
“Nice little date, Gracie. Yeah, I know you can hear me, you piece of shit. Fuck you. Human-ass bitch. You make Gracie look silly.”
See, that’s how a person swings from a chandelier, not a monkey. If you want to conceal the fact that you’re a monkey in people’s clothes, you need to swing from the chandelier with your arms. If you take nothing else away from Dizzy Dames, I hope you learn that important lesson.
If you think Moronica and Suzy Screwball’s stories are pretty similar, you would be correct. Moronica accidentally adopts the organ grinder’s monkey, not realizing he’s a monkey, and gets found out by her landlady and the organ grinder (respectable businessman Tony Spumoni) after the monkey hangs from the chandelier. This culminates in a pretty dark ending where Moronica is forced to become the organ grinder’s new monkey. She thinks this is a good job!
Jesus. I mean, Moronica is a monster, but that is a pretty dark fate. It’s hard to get a handle on the rules in Dizzy Dames, but generally men are allowed to do whatever they want to women when it comes to Monkey Law. Like how a policeman can force you to become someone’s sex(?) worker if you lose their monkey. Or in this example, you’ll see how you can’t legally throw a monkey out of a dance, but you can absolutely give his human date “the rush.”
Luckily, in this case, her ape date stepped in and kicked all of their asses before they could sentence Sal to “the rush” by the authority given to them by Monkey Law. Go ape date! Then all of her friends get super horny for the strong monkey. THE END. I said THE END.
Was this really what the world was like in the fifties? Did you decide who to date by who could beat up the most other men? Don’t answer. Just battle for me.
Maybe it just felt like those were the rules to the guys who wrote this because they weren’t getting laid? I hate this comic so much, and I hope the writers are still alive so that can hurt their feelings. Now seems like a good time to transition into a Hitting Women Is Funny montage. That’s why they call it a punchline, kids! Picture this set to the Benny Hill music, I guess?
“Good luck fixing that pelvis with no job!”
“And good luck finding a job without that pelvis!”
“I’m talking about THAT pelvis! The one I’m forcefully TOUCHING!”
“It says right there on the sign– volunteer sales clerks GET FUCKED UP!”
Oof, yikes. That was a lot. Here’s a palate cleanser of a nice, soothing doll advertisement. Except the doll looks like a necromancer standing over a grave yelling, “RISE MY MIDNIGHT CHILDREN! Feast on my rubber wonderskin.”
Ok, ok, I’m sorry. I had a choice of what comic I could pick for golden-age comic week, and I picked Dizzy Dames. I believe my exact wording was:
Like an IDIOT. No one told me I had to do lady comics. I was given many available options, and I said, this is what I want, please. I choose this! If I could go back in time, I might do it differently. I might say to myself, “You know Agnes,” which is a fun nickname I have for myself. I’d say, “Agnes, this comic has a recurring character named Man Huntin’ Minnie, who is so ugly that when she sees herself in the mirror, she yells YAAAAAAAAAGH!“
All of her friends are mean to her because she is so ugly. They are embarrassed by her mere presence but do nothing to help her look better.
She is mistaken for a telegraph pole and a building gargoyle by people whose job it is to pick those things up and carry them away?
During the gargoyle incident, she thinks she’s been kidnapped, and she’s thrilled! Overjoyed!
And you still won’t hate her as much as you hate Moronica for what she did to poor “respectable businessman Tony Spumoni!” My mind has been warped in some way by this comic! I feel so sorry for these poor helpless men that Moronica made so morose.
The many police officers who legally couldn’t take her to prison because she’s too stupid. That’s the special law for women, apparently. God, the fifties were nuts.
This dame is too dizzy to follow our laws! An airtight alibi!
Monica is so dumb she could destroy our entire economy. No greater villain has ever existed in comics. Do you think Doctor Doom is bad? Fools! Quiver in fear before this dumb woman.
So yeah, I think this has ruined me. Thanks for your Patreon donations! Happy Golden Age Week! Hope you enjoy the wacky comics!
I believe the most quintessentially American American, the person whose face should be on every denomination of our currency, is this woman who was pinned under a camel and escaped by biting its testicles. If it was up to me, a gigantic sculpture of this event would replace the Statue of Liberty. Someday, I will make a 127 Hours-style drama about this woman’s ordeal and then immediately get sued for titling it The Patriot (2000) – Mel Gibson.
It’s a tragedy that in today’s media environment, 99.9% of those who know this story only saw the headline, or a screenshot of it, then briefly smirked and moved on. There are so many beautiful layers here that if we ever sent out another Voyager-style satellite to make first contact with aliens, the disc on board would need only to include a copy of this story. From that alone, they could extrapolate literally everything else about our civilization.
Just for old time’s sake, let’s do this up in list form:
1. It Happened at a Truck Stop’s Exotic Animal Menagerie
In September 2019, a 68 year-old woman named Gloria Lancaster from – let me just double-check here – Florida, was eating dinner with her husband and her elderly dog at the Tiger Cafe, which is inside the Tiger Truck Stop in Grosse Tete, Louisiana. This truck stop has 15,683 fans on Facebook and the cafe inside is currently rated as the #1 restaurant in Grosse Tete on Tripadvisor, with 3.5 stars. “But why was there a biteable camel scrotum on the premises?” you ask. Unsurprisingly, that will actually take a moment to explain.
See, it is called the Tiger Truck Stop because for decades, they kept a number of tigers on site, much to the consternation of animal rights groups. One of their old tigers is still stuffed in a glass case above the bar:
Long before the truck stop became world-famous for having a woman bite their on-site camel in the family jewels, it was already the center of a Tiger King-style legal controversy — there was a whole New York Times article about it years earlier, in 2013. Activist groups repeatedly sued and eventually got the laws regarding truck stop tiger ownership changed in 2006, but the Tiger Truck Stop kept fighting. The owner said he racked up over $1.2 million in legal bills over the years but refused to give up out of principle, i.e., because tiger people are universally fucking insane.
If you go to the truck stop’s website today, you are greeted with a pdf notifying you that their final tiger, Tony, had to be euthanized in 2017. Getting a new one would have been a legal nightmare, so the owner replaced him with a number of animals, including some ducks, chickens, a kangaroo… and a camel named Caspar, whose balls were destined by the stars to collide with a particular woman’s face.
2. The Woman Claimed The Camel Attacked Their Dog, Then It Turned Out She Was Lying
Gloria Lancaster, her husband and their dog walked over to go visit the camel after dinner. One way or the other, their little dog wound up inside Caspar’s enclosure. The couple crawled in to rescue it, at which point the 600-pound camel knocked Gloria over and sat on her. She supposedly yelled to her husband, “Get the dog, get out of here, I’m already dead”, which is a line that’s going to sound amazing in my movie’s trailer when Florence Pugh says it.
Then she bit the camel on the scrotum. She bit it so viciously that the camel jumped off and her husband was able to drag Gloria to safety.
The question you should be asking right about now is, how do we know that? About the biting, I mean. If you got trapped under an animal and had to bite its unimaginably filthy ballsack to get out, would you tell anyone? Sure, I would, because I put food on the table by saying shit like that, even when it isn’t true. But you wouldn’t think your average God-fearing Pensacola-area senior citizen would want that to be their legacy.
Well, what happened is she told the story to the police on the scene, probably because that’s the best possible answer you can give to, “Ma’am, why does this camel have your teeth marks on his majestic, untamed scrotum?” The sheriff then immediately turned around and told that to the news, completely failing to conceal his glee:
“This is the only camel in Iberville Parish,” he said to local TV cameras, “and I’m sure this is the only camel that has ever been bitten by a human on his testicles.”
A viral story was born, resulting in hundreds of millions of clicks across thousands of websites, bringing microscopic hits of dopamine to countless brains around the globe and generating upwards of 50 or 60 dollars in banner ad revenue. At that point, this woman could cure cancer and the top Google result for her name would still be the time she munched down on a camel’s leathery marble bag.
Lancaster told police the camel had aggressively reached outside of the pen and snatched up her dog, forcing her and her husband to go in to rescue it — you know, camels being famously carnivorous like that. Unfortunately for her, there was a security camera that captured the whole sequence:
That video revealed that the dog was off its leash (in violation of the law) and wandered into the pen on its own. The woman and her husband went in after it, startling the camel. Police then found dog treats inside the pen, implying the woman had thrown them to the camel (to attract it over to the fence, maybe?) and that’s likely what caused the dog to go inside the fence in the first place. That was enough for the police to charge the couple with trespassing and violating leash laws.
3. She Tells the Story With a Suspicious Amount of Enthusiasm
Most people would, you’d think, be eager to see this story fade from the headlines. If you spoke of it at all to the press, you’d likely play down the scrotum-biting part (maybe even insisting it didn’t happen at all, that the police just misheard your statement). Instead, Gloria got in front of the cameras and, in a local TV interview, said four of the most spectacular sentences in the history of the english language:
“But God will always make a way where there is no way. And on the side of my face lay [the camel’s] testicles. I couldn’t do anything with my arms. And I’m not gonna lie, I bit them.”
She also makes a point of saying, “I would do it again,” in a prime example of being weirdly eager to answer a question no one asked. When I said Gloria was the quintessential American, I wasn’t just pulling shit out of my ass to fill out the intro. She embraced the zany “Florida Woman” character the media had created for her, because you give the people what they want. And hey, I get it. As a former class clown, I can tell you right now that having the world laugh at you is ten thousand times better than being ignored. I just never thought I’d see the whole country turn into the teenage, armpit-farting version of me.
Possibly related: It’s not at all clear how injured the woman was by the camel-crushing. In various interviews, she claimed to have a broken collarbone, broken ribs and a punctured lung, including the detail that she had to have blood drained from the lung and would require multiple surgeries. Then, at other times, her chest injury became “bruised ribs.” In the original police report, the cops on the scene went out of their way to note that she was walking around fine afterward, calmly hanging out and smoking a cigarette when they arrived. You might say she was setting the stage for a lawsuit but if so, I can find no record of one being filed.
“I do not want to hurt the camel,” Lancaster said in another interview. “That’s not what this is about. The animal was only doing what God designed him to do. It was taking care of his territory.”
But … was it?
4. I Think the Camel Was Trying to Fuck the Woman’s Face
“Wait,” some of you are saying, “didn’t the woman die? I swear I heard that she died, and that the camel was trying to hump her.”
No, believe it or not, you’re thinking of an entirely different viral “camel crushes woman” story that happened back in 2007. A 60 year-old Australian woman received a camel for her birthday and it crushed her to death. A cop told the press the camel was trying to mate with her and I think he was half-joking, but the result was headlines like, “Humped to death by a pet camel.”
The logic, as far as I can tell, was that this is always what a male camel is trying to do when it lays on you, unless it just, like, didn’t know you were there? But if so, why didn’t anybody suggest that Gloria Lancaster’s attacker was trying to fuck her in the face? Hell, I’m surprised she didn’t suggest it. That’d have been a whole other news cycle.
Everyone keeps framing her case as a frightened camel defending itself. Are they saying that if a camel runs into a pack of wolves in the wild, that its instinct is to cram its wrinklepurse into each of their faces? It seems cruel that the dead Australian woman has “Camel-fucked to death” on her tombstone and Gloria Lancaster escaped that stigma completely, even though hers was the only case that involved genitalia.
5. The Truck Stop Capitalized On Its Fame
After the incident, the truck stop put up a billboard cashing in on the viral story, featuring a picture of the camel with the slogan, “Stop in for Gas and a BITE.” They were literally promising customers that they, too, may get the chance to devour a camel’s spunk bindle.
They were right to do it: Visitors flocked to the location. This is 21st Century America, attention is all that matters. Any kind of attention. There is nothing else.
The camel was fine, by the way; a vet came to check on it and prescribed some antibiotics in case the human bite on its nuts got infected. Later, the camel and all of the other animals at the Tiger Truck Stop were relocated after the business changed hands, the new owners deciding it just wasn’t worth it. Logically, you might think that’s the result of the endless lawsuits and complaints from activists, but I personally believe they feared future visitors would intentionally try to crawl into the enclosure to get their own taste of viral fame.
6. This is America
It would be incredibly reductive and insulting to try to claim this freak incident says something about the future of our nation, so let me just go ahead and do that. Regular readers know this is my third column in a series about freaky dong trauma (Volume 1, Volume 2). Those of you who read the first piece about the Russian(?) man caught on video kicking a horse in the penis might have noticed that I’m being less charitable to this woman than I was to him, even though his actions were arguably harder to justify. I will admit, this is my own bias at play.
When a senior citizen from the Florida panhandle disregards local laws, signage and a fence to get inside a camel’s enclosure, and then says she believes her subsequent biting of the camel’s scrotum was a divine miracle, I have strong suspicions as to which party she votes for. If you think I’m being unfair or succumbing to stereotypes, feel free to tell me, but Trump did win 73% of the 2020 general election vote in her home county.
It appears to me that this woman is a member of one of America’s largest and most distinct tribes, a group whose defining traits are A) Their belief that their every action and circumstance is the pure expression of God’s will and B) An internal resolve that is actually made stronger by mockery, disgust or derision from anyone outside the tribe.
There are tens of millions of them and understanding this group is paramount, considering they control like half of the country. I think about all of the viral videos of bad COVID behavior I’ve boosted, as if granting the target fame is some kind of punishment. “But everyone is making fun of them,” you say. Sure, but what good does that do, if they are 100% confident their lives are an expression of God’s will and that any mockery is really an insult to God himself?
Do you think they’ll relent, or double down?
“Go ahead,” I imagine them saying. “Shove your balls in my face and find out.”
Jason Pargin’s writings can now be found on his new site hosted at Substack, you can read his columns there or have them emailed to you if that’s too much effort. He is the author of the novel Zoey Punches the Future in the Dick and his new book will be out next year.
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Learning Day: Mormon Bigfoots 🌭
Yes it is my pleasure to take another turn driving this Hot Dog boat for a bit. I have been thinking on what I might share with all of you what is interesting and enlightening. I thought I might share more about the culture and folklore of my current dwelling place which: I don’t want to get too specific but let’s just say I have lots of neighbors of the mormon persuasion. Turns out they’re mostly about as nice or as not nice as anybody else depending on the day and did you return their ladder in the same condition you borrowed it. Now I ain’t terribly godly or ungodly myself but I been learning more about their history and there I think is some pretty interestin things which i will now share with you all from me to you.
Researchin Methodologies
Well after Charmaigne McNabb died and there wasn’t anybody else would work the library on a volunteer basis they just closed the local library down. They said the school has one but I can’t exactly access that as a non-child, so I am mostly depending on the county BookMobile which comes to the park once a week in the summer and then kinda just depends on if the roads are clear for the rest of the year. I guess they don’t have much money either cause I’m not seeing a lot of new books and I been asking every week do they have the new Tom Clancy (Netforce: Kill Chain: A Novella) but no, it looks like its mostly used books what have been donated and theirs LOTS of Mormon-type books and videos and such in there, like the church did some cleaning recently.
The Findins
So i checked one out entitled The Miracle of Forgiveness, it didn’t have much of a cover to speak of if i’m honest i mostly picked it cause it was wrote in 1969 and I thought LaRene might get a chuckle out of that.
I thought Spencer looked a little familiar but here is a nice young woman explaining that no, Yoda wasn’t about him.
Well reading it was mostly what you’d expect from an older time mormon book like don’t touch yourself that might end up in… well here’s what he said:
Which even i know is a outdated attitude and i showed LaRene and we both shook our heads and said that is just ignernt and disappointing. If Spencer had met Kenzie and Rose down the road I bet he’d never say that, but I kept reading and this part when i saw it i just about got a chill down my whole body:
Now i don’t know if you know this about me but I been a aficionado of Sasquatch (what you civilians might call Bigfoot) lores ever since I was a young feller back in Tumwater and my older cousin Jeff said he saw a bigfoot making a wickerman once out on the sound. We went out there alot tryin’ to see it again and never did but there was some pretty scary times (like once when Jeff made kinda a grunt noise when I was peeing and i just went running before i finished or did up my fly or anything) and I studied on the creature in books as well as “in the field.” So when i saw what Spencer said Brother Wilson there wrote about Smoot recollectin on Elder Patten I knew aright away: we had what Jeff woulda termed ‘a sightin’ and guess what i looked it up and I ain’t the only one what thinks so:
So this was a upsetting revelation to me cause in my head I always pretty much thought Bigfoots would be more like a part of nature: you know, don’t go poking at em or you’ll get what’s coming but if you leave em alone and maybe just watch in wonder from afar they’ll leave you be. But now we got this one saying his mission is to destroy the souls of men so it might sound silly to you but this kinda kept me up at nights even with my CPAP and you might think: it’s fine, it said you can just command a evil Bigfoot to leave, but I have tried that Jesus Name thing i have had mixed sucess (sometimes it works on spiders, but that bird that came down the chimney and one time when that Hawkins kid at the Maverik followed me out to the truck saying ‘you can’t take that many ketchups’, it don’t seem to effect them). So after a few nights of no sleep and going to look in on Trayton sleeping underneath his bed and kinda quaking about what if a Cain should find him in a moment of helpless like this in his genshin impact jammies, i decided i’d keep reading on Mormon Folk lore and see if there was something that might lend me some comfort. I ventually found one that ain’t a book exactly, more like somebodys school project like when I did one on are ghosts real in sixth grade, but this one was like a whole big thing:
All writ up by one Mr. Hector Lee in 1947 and I guess it was so good that some fellow named Dean went ahead and gave him a upgrade on his degree:
And if you don’t know what are the three Nephites well here is a explanation:
So now we have a whole NOTHER group of fellows what are walking the earth and are gonna live forever. Well well that sorta sounds like that other thing isn’t that interestin…
So yep this Lee fellow came up to my neck of the woods and interviewed a bunch a folks about their three Nephite stories like this one:
And that part about they had beautiful long white and gray hair and beards was in just about every story (also that part about the food comes back after they eat it, which I just wish that happened with my breakfast nachos i get at the BonFire Grill). And sometimes there dressed ‘neet’ (I found that some of these olden pioneer folks did not have the Language Arts skills and knowledge like what we have modernly (although i was entrigued by their how and what they pucntuate and, Im trying that out myself now in my academia papers i don’t know if you noticed)) and sometimes it doesn’t say nothing about clothes, and so that made me think and i read and read thru the night and as I read a pattern sorta revolved itself before my minds’ eye:
And Trayton helped me to do a dark web image search but that didn’t seem right did the artist even read the descriptions?:
But yet i persissted and you might laugh but I felt alot like that movie where Highlander is a detective and struggles mightily to put together the clues.
and then it CLICKED almost just like in that movie:
And of a sudden I KNEW what these descriptors minded me of, it was a specific image from that amazon documentary from a few years ago about a fellow Squatch Seeker:
So here is A Theory: what if God knew there was a bad bigfoot what lives forever out tryin to destroy souls? Wouldn’t it be just like Him Everlasting to set up a sort of counter-force of good amortal bigfoots or perhaps Yetis? The kind what enjoy your food but you still can eat it? And so here is my belief: I am convinced The Three Nephites are honorable sasquatches sent from Him on High here is more suportin evidence courtesy Master Doctor Lee:
Get Up Rite Now and Dress Your Self
Well i couldn’t make nothing out of that but gratefully Doctor Lee P.HD has typed it up for us:
Now this to me is a miracle I would really like: if when i was sick (in my case not cause i had 15 kids but more like it just all feels pretty heavy today) a Holy Bigfoot came and said ‘Na Na I don’t care what your Nabers have to say you can be healthy and live as long as you want and also most importantly: but not to go to work.’ And I guess that went pretty well for Sister Bullard:
Flour “Repaid”
Holy cow I also am satisfied, this is powerful Squatch Sign right here ain’t no regular man could carry a hunnerd pounds of flour wasn’t even his own it seems.
Shapeshifter
Well this one I know shapeshiftin’ is generally considered to be more the wheelhouse of the Wendigo. But I figure if Heavenly Father is gonna make a StrikeForce of Righteous Forest Walkers, he might throw ina few extra kindsa wood apes.
No. 22
This one got me excited maybe I would find my own sasquatch adventure reflected in history!
Oh never mind.
His Mother’s Pie
This is like the time that one April there was a sheep up-rising (on account of the Basque’s left early that year) so I took the old highway instead of the interstate and found a whole unopened thing of Swedish Fish in the barrow pit, but in my ignorance I never thought to maybe thank a Kindly Hairy One for the delicious bounty.
When You Count Topaz That Almost Makes It Come True
Well I don’t know if historically it is worse to count or not count Topaz but could be this is a miraculous prophecy indeed.
Sister Biddlecome and the Caked Breasts
Well this one i didn’t fully understand the issue. I asked LaRene have your breasts ever caked and she said What? And I said did your BREASTS ever CAKE and she just looked at me for a long bit and then said are you saying CAKE? But we both agreed that watching a Chosen Skunk Ape rub larded tobacco on that woman’s suffersome teats must have been a faith-promoting sight indeed.
So some of you Hot Dog Folks reading this you might say: this is old timey nonsense those were a superstitious people and so stupid. And fair enough okay yes these are from long ago, But like that man that Died said what if I showed you One More Thing I researched, this is a Modern Day accounting from another one from the BookMobile called The Big Book of Angels:
Well. Sacred Hallowed Shape-shifting Pie-Teleporting Delta-Prophecying Female-Breast-Tobacco-Rubbing Bigfoot Dudes With Swords. Arrest my case. It is my solem testimony that knowing these things are true has made me sleep just a little bit better at night and I hope the same is true now for you also. But if you still have a worry or so about what if Cain the Bigfoot grows in Power, well don’t fret too much the sun and moon people Brigham Young taught us about will probably help us out if we need them to In the name of jesus christ amen.
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Learning Day: The Starseed Oracle
Categories
Learning Day: Roman Cock Talismans 🌭
If you go digging around the ruins of ancient Rome, you’ll find lots and lots of human boners with wings, like this:
“Wow, that does kind of look like a winged erection!” you might be saying, “It even kind of has balls! I guess I have the same twisted, dong-centric imagination as you, Jason!” Well, I’m thrilled to inform you that the above object is exactly what it looks like. That bronze charm symbolized the “divine phallus” to the Romans. It’s called a “fascinus” and – I am not fucking with you here – it is the origin of the word “fascinate.” That word literally means, “To call upon a magical swarm of proverbial winged, throbbing cocks to enchant another’s mind.”
The Romans turned these majestic feathered pork missiles into amulets to be dangled from necklaces…
…and wind chimes, like this winged dick that itself has a dick and a tail that is also a dick:
Just so you know that I’m not making up this next part, I’m going to paste in a quote from the world’s most widely-read expert on this subject, Wikipedia:
“Varro notes the custom of hanging a phallic charm on a baby’s neck, and examples have been found of phallus-bearing rings too small to be worn except by children. A 2017 experimental archaeology project suggested that some types of phallic pendant were designed to remain pointing outwards, in the direction of travel of the wearer, in order to face towards any potential danger or bad luck and nullify it before it could affect the wearer… “
That’s right: When a Roman baby came into the world, the first step was to throw an adorable little todger around its neck, facing outward, to symbolically fuck the world.
How did this empire ever collapse? But there’s more:
“The victory of the phallus over the power of the evil eye may be represented by the phallus ejaculating towards a disembodied eye.“
If you’re struggling to visualize that, don’t worry, plenty of art from the era has you covered:
If your middle school science teacher ever caught you drawing a picture of a hooved hard-on using its own, separate throb-hog to ejaculate into a giant disembodied flying eyeball piloted by a dancing scorpion, they’d confiscate it and tuck it away for the inevitable day Netflix asks to reference it in their eight-part documentary about your sex murders. But let me be perfectly clear: If you watch any portrayal of ancient Rome, be it a Hollywood blockbuster or a play on Easter Sunday, and the Romans in it aren’t absolutely bristling with decorative peckers, what you’re watching is total bullshit.
“Why are you telling us this,” you ask, “aside from the obvious fact that all we really want is to be distracted, all the time, until we die?”
Well, you see, I have a problem. I’m reaching an age where I’m expected to transition from ribald comedy shithead into a respectable author, someone who critics won’t be embarrassed to praise, like when Eminem started rapping about the importance of gun control and got invited to perform at the Grammys. I’m getting noticeable gray hair, I need to become a stately figure who dispenses wisdom from this more introspective phase of life (I have a Substack newsletter, for Christ’s sake). But again and again I run into the same obstacle, which is that I just can’t stop laughing at the idea of slapstick trauma to the ol’ flesh tone crayola.
The book I keep promoting here is literally called Zoey Punches the Future in the Dick, I just wrote a column here about a video of a guy kicking a horse in the penis and I riffed on the subject of bad guys getting dick-shot for hundreds of words in my Death Wish 3 analysis. There’s an old viral video of a guy at an MMA fight screaming, “Grab his dick and twist it! The oooool’ DICK TWIST!” and I’ve watched it easily a hundred times. I’m going to watch it again right now.
I’m sorry, but I was born into a world in which every single human instinctively knows it’s hilarious when somebody gets smacked in the pork warrior with a baseball, but nobody can really articulate why. And it just keeps coming up: When researching the fascinus, I found that sometimes Romans would substitute “The club of Hercules” for the phallus. When attempting to follow up on that, I stumbled across the famous statue of Hercules fighting Diomedes and found that HOLY SHIT, DIOMEDES IS GIVING HIM THE OOOOOL’ DICK TWIST!
How can a man who, in another tab, is currently shopping for the biggest version of that statue he can afford, also be someone you’d trust to provide insight about the ennui of middle age? Am I just always going to be like this?
I think so, yeah. See, from reading about the fascinus, it seems like nobody back then was totally clear as to whether these ceremonial beef bayonets were warding off evil because they were holy (thwarting it with their glorious, life-giving virility) or profane (because not even the “Evil Eye” would tolerate the sight of a fully-chubbed bronze meat mast mounted on a toddler’s neck). This paradox describes my upbringing in a nutshell, having been raised in a part of the country in which you can find rubber truck nuts and Bible verses on the same jacked-up pickup.
It’s a culture in which masculinity is worshipped but the sex organ can never be glimpsed, to the point that even Jesus’s canonical nudity on the cross is covered in a family-friendly cloth for the crucifix. The spirit of the human sausage-in-a-Darth-Vader-helmet inhabits every rock song and car commercial but only the most explicit aren’t shrouding it in euphemism. At least the Roman phallic symbols were actual phalluses.
I know I should move on, but how can I, when the culture itself never did? I feel like society’s concept of being more “mature” about these subjects means becoming even more coy and neurotic about them than I was at 16. Don’t they understand that that’s precisely why people still find them funny?
So, no, I don’t think I’m going to grow out of this phase any time soon. I can’t help it, I just find the whole thing fascinating.
Jason Pargin’s writings can now be found on his new site hosted at Substack, you can read his columns there or have them emailed to you if that’s too much effort. He is the author of Zoey Punches the Future in the Dick and his new book will be out next year.
