Conspiracy theories are all fun and games until you become the subject of one.

Sometime in the early 1980s, when I lived in Cambridge, Massachusetts, I received a postcard with a name and return address I didn’t recognize, bearing a cryptic image on the back. Every few weeks after that I received another card. There was one with holes punched in it, one with a symbol that resembled crosshairs, one with a picture of a man in sunglasses and a hooded sweatshirt, and one with a string of binary digits. The return addresses and postmarks kept changing. Assuming a friend from college was trying to get me to play some sort of puzzle game—a recreation for which I have no patience—I threw them in a drawer, a little guilty that he was going to all this trouble.

Then I received an article reciting details of the unsolved “Zodiac murders” that had unfolded in Northern California more than a decade earlier. In an episode that has since been recounted by countless journalists and Hollywood filmmakers, the killer had ambushed and slain five people. (The murderer has never been identified for certain, although numerous people have claimed to pinpoint the culprit—including a San Francisco woman who held a press conference in April declaring her father was the Zodiac killer.) He then sent letters to Bay Area newspapers threatening to kill many more unless they published a series of cryptic symbols, an act that created widespread panic. Included in the article I received were descriptions of the symbols, which sounded just like the ones on the postcards in my drawer. “Holy cow!” I said. “I’m getting mail from a mass murderer!” I called the local FBI branch, and a nice young woman with an FBI badge came to my office, picked up the collection of mail, said thank you, and left.

A week later, another agent came by with everything in a plastic envelope, gave it to me, and said, “Don’t worry, he’s harmless.”

“He’s what? What do you mean, harmless?”

“Don’t you know about this guy?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Do you mean the murderer?”

The agent then explained that the mail was from an amateur sleuth in California named Gareth Penn, who had been trying for some time to interest the police in the idea that I was the Zodiac killer.

{ Michael O’Hare/Washington Monthly | Continue reading }

Fatal Russian roulette refers to death following an act of extreme bravado in which the individual spins the cylinder of a revolver loaded with at least one cartridge, aims the muzzle at the head, and pulls the trigger.

The majority of victims are men younger than 30 years who, in the presence of others, are under the influence of ethanol or other drugs.

This is a 10-year (1993-2002) retrospective review of self-inflicted gunshot wounds of the head, among which we culled and paid special attention to cases of Russian roulette, at the Medical Examiners’ Offices in Kentucky. Of the 24 incidents of Russian roulette, the majority of victims were white (79.2%), and all were men between 14 and 47 years with a mean age of 24.8 years. Compared with other cephalic firearm suicides, the subjects engaging in Russian roulette were significantly more likely to have elevated blood levels (≥0.1%) of ethanol along with various drugs detected in urine.

Although the presumed intent of the risky act is to survive, Russian roulette is deemed to be suicide, which is based on a comprehensive understanding of the inherently deliberate, volitional actions of the decedent.

{ Russian Roulette and Risk-Taking Behavior: A Medical Examiner Study | via MindHacks | Continue reading }

artwork { James Rosenquist, Pink Condition, 1996 | Oil on canvas }

Developed by Koreans for the Japanese, Boong-Ga Boong-Ga is the first arcade game that combines of assaulting assholes and fortune-telling. You select from eight characters like “Mother-in-Law,” “Con artist,” and “Child Molester” and then, steel yourself for this, you ram a giant plastic finger into an ass that protrudes out from the arcade unit next to the words “HAVE A FUN!! ENJOY.” As you poke, spank, and probe, the game plays an animation of your victim wailing in pain, and then the game rates your sexual virility based on the impact of your finger against its virtual colon.

{ Sean Baby | Continue reading }

The new Peter Arnell-designed Pepsi logo that is meant to resemble a smile and that has been plastered across North America is nowhere to be found in two new commercials, “The Rising” from CLM BBDO, France, and “Penguin” from BBDO, New York, now debuting in Europe and set to roll out in other regions around the world.

After spending millions of dollars to create the logo and introduce it at events with the potential for global audiences — New Year’s Eve in Times Square, Barack Obama’s inauguration and the Super Bowl — it’s baffling that Pepsi, a beloved global brand, has chosen to soldier on with two distinctly different brand identities for the “next year or two.”

“The new Pepsi brand identity recently introduced in North America has generated a very positive response from consumers,” said a Pepsi International spokesman. “We expect to introduce the new Pepsi identity around the world over the next year or two. We will communicate specifics about those changes when we formulate our marketing plans.”

{ AdAge | Continue reading | Previously: A leaked pdf outlines the thinking behind the controversial new Pepsi logo. It may be one of the most ridiculous things ever perpetrated by somebody calling himself a designer. }

John Wayne Gacy, Jr. (March 17, 1942 – May 10, 1994) was an American serial killer.

He was convicted and later executed for the rape and murder of 33 boys and young men between 1972 and his arrest in 1978, 27 of whom he buried in a crawl space under the floor of his house, while others were found in nearby rivers. He became notorious as the “Killer Clown” because of the many block parties he threw for his friends and neighbors, entertaining children in a clown suit and makeup, under the name of “Pogo the Clown.” (…)

Gacy told the police that he would pick up male teenage runaways or male prostitutes off the streets, and take them back to his house with either promising them money for sex, or just grab them by force. He picked up at least one of his victims at the bus station. Once they got back to his house, he would handcuff them or tie them up in another way. Gacy would often stick clothing in their mouths to muffle their screams. After this, he would choke them with a rope or a board as he sexually assaulted them. Gacy would also keep the bodies with him for as long as decomposition would allow.

Twenty-nine bodies were found in Gacy’s crawlspace and on his property between December 1978 and March 1979. (…) Eight of the victims were so badly decomposed that they were never identified. (…)

At one point in the trial, Gacy’s defense tried to claim that all 33 murders were accidental deaths as part of erotic asphyxia. (…)

While on trial, Gacy joked that the only thing he was guilty of was “running a cemetery without a license.”

He was found guilty on March 13 and sentenced to death. Gacy was executed on May 10, 1994 at Stateville Correctional Center in Crest Hill, Illinois, by lethal injection. His last meal consisted of a dozen deep fried shrimp, a bucket of original recipe chicken from KFC, a pound of fresh strawberries and French fries.

According to reports, Gacy did not express remorse. His last words to his lawyer in his cell were to the effect that killing him would not bring anyone back, and it is reported his last words were “kiss my ass,” which he said to a correctional officer while he was being sent to the execution chamber.

Before the execution began, the lethal chemicals unexpectedly solidified, clogging the IV tube that led into Gacy’s arm, and prevented any further passage. Blinds covering the window through which witnesses observed the execution were drawn, and the execution team replaced the clogged tube with a new one. Ten minutes later, the blinds were reopened and the execution resumed. It took 18 minutes to complete. Anesthesiologists blamed the problem on the inexperience of prison officials who were conducting the execution, saying that proper procedures taught in “IV 101″ would have prevented the error. This apparently led to Illinois’ adoption of a different method of lethal injection. On this subject, the chief prosecutor at Gacy’s trial, William Kunkle, said “He still got a much easier death than any of his victims.”

{ Wikipedia | Continue reading }

On Pet Airways, of Delray Beach, Florida, all pets travel in the main cabin and owners are not allowed on board - not even in the cargo hold.

The new airline claims to be the first designed specifically for the safe and comfortable transportation of pets.

Company founders Dan Wiesel and Alysa Binder say they got the idea while planning holidays with their pet dog.

The airline has scheduled its first flight for cats and dogs for 14 July and will serve five US cities - New York, Washington DC, Chicago, Denver and Los Angeles.

Pets - or pawsengers, as the airline calls them - can be booked in online and are checked in to a Pet Lounge at the airport.

{ BBC | Continue reading }

photo { Victor Harshbarger }

{ Google Books | Download }

{ William Warren | Shelves For Life }

Brain Ads is a web business where you can pay for your product promotion to be telepathically sent to everyone on the planet. (…) It’ll cost you $2,000 USD to have your one page advert sent to the world telepathically.

{ MindHacks | Continue reading }

{ via Nerve.com | Continue reading }

{ David Lynch’s Lost Highway, 1997 }