A ball of furry fury, a rat king occurs when the tails of rodents become twisted, wrapped, and warped into a knot so impossible that not even the worldâ€™s most loyal Boy Scout could untangle it. Rat kings have been reported since the mid-16th century (almost entirely within Germany), and everything about themâ€”from their name, to their cause, to their very existenceâ€”remains suspended in mystery.
What actually exists are 1:24 models of the car made by the Franklin Mint, by one account, from drawings found in a barn on the remote Central Pennsylvania estate of Guy de LaRouche.
The legend says that the Duesenberg Coupe Simone was created by the coachbuilding firm Emmet-Armand on the Duesenberg Type J frame in response to a special order from French cosmetics magnate Guy (or Gui) de LaRouche (or LaRoche). The coupe took three years to build and was finished after the bankruptcy of Cord and the end of Duesenberg production. The Coupe Simone was named for LaRouche’s lover and was intended to be a gift to her. It was sent to France for LaRouche’s approval, before it was to be exhibited at the 1939 New York World’s Fair, but disappeared as the result of a love triangle and the outbreak of the Second World War. The Coupe Simone was either destroyed during the war, or remains forgotten today, rusting away, in a barn somewhere in rural France.
An alternative story contends that plans for the car were drawn up in the 1930s, but the car was never built, and only the Franklin Mint models made from drawing re-discovered decades later were ever actually built.
Another version contends that neither car nor drawings nor French cosmetics king ever actually existed, and the model car was invented in the late 1990s by a couple of Franklin Mint designers, who made up a romantic story to explain the Art Deco automobile they had imagined.
Diesel Punks: The Strange Case of the Midnight Ghost.
Opposite Lock: The Duesenberg Coupe Simone: A One-Off that Never Was.
Wikicars: Duesenberg Coupe Simone
Tolkien wrote Philomythus to Misomythus as a rejoinder to one [C.S. Lewis] who said that myths were lies and therefore worthless, even though ‘breathed through silver’.
I will not walk with your progressive apes,
erect and sapient. Before them gapes
the dark abyss to which their progress tends
if by God’s mercy progress ever ends,
and does not ceaselessly revolve the same
unfruitful course with changing of a name.
Read the whole thing.
Hat tip to Vanderleun.
Doug Ross tracks the changes to the biography Barack Obama provided, in third person form, to his literary agent.
On June 27, 1998, the website read: [Emphasis added] “BARACK OBAMA was the first black president of the Harvard Law Review. He was born in Kenya to an American anthropologist and a Kenyan finance minister, and was raised in Indonesia, Hawaii, and Chicago. His first book is DREAMS FROM MY FATHER: A STORY OF RACE AND INHERITANCE.”
The Obama entry remained unmodified (e.g., June 6, 2002) until sometime around December 9, 2004, when it was modified to read: “BARACK OBAMA is the junior Democratic senator from Illinois, and was the dynamic keynote speaker at the 2004 Democratic National Convention. He was also the first African-American president of the Harvard Law Review. He was born in Kenya to an American anthropologist and a Kenyan finance minister, and was raised in Indonesia, Hawaii, and Chicago. His first book, DREAMS FROM MY FATHER: A STORY OF RACE AND INHERITANCE, is a New York Times bestseller.”
On February 10, 2007, Senator Barack Obama formally announced his candidacy for the Presidency.
On April 3, 2007, the website read: “BARACK OBAMA is the junior Democratic senator from Illinois and was the dynamic keynote speaker at the 2004 Democratic National Convention. He was also the first African-American president of the Harvard Law Review. He was born in Kenya to an American anthropologist and a Kenyan finance minister and was raised in Indonesia, Hawaii, and Chicago. His first book, DREAMS FROM MY FATHER: A STORY OF RACE AND INHERITANCE, has been a long time New York Times bestseller.”
Sometime between April 3rd and April 21st, a member of the Obama campaign staff (or Obama himself) noticed the discrepancy in birthplace that would presumably disqualify the Senator from office.
On April 21, 2007, the website read: “BARACK OBAMA is the junior Democratic senator from Illinois and was the dynamic keynote speaker at the 2004 Democratic National Convention. He was also the first African-American president of the Harvard Law Review. He was born in Hawaii to an American anthropologist and a Kenyan finance minister and was raised in Indonesia, Hawaii, and Chicago. His first book, DREAMS FROM MY FATHER: A STORY OF RACE AND INHERITANCE, has been a long time New York Times bestseller.”
On June 14, 2007, the website read: “BARACK OBAMA, the junior Democratic senator from Illinois, is currently campaigning to become the 2008 Democratic presidential nominee. He was born in Hawaii to a father who was raised in a small village in Kenya and a mother who grew up in small-town Kansas. Barack’s father eventually returned to Kenya, and Barack grew up with his mother in Hawaii, and for a few years in Indonesia. Later, he moved to New York, where he graduated from Columbia University before moving to Chicago, where he became a community organizer. He went on to earn his law degree from Harvard, where he became the first African-American president of the Harvard Law Review. His first book, DREAMS FROM MY FATHER: A STORY OF RACE AND INHERITANCE, has been a long-time New York Times bestseller.”
Old media’s feeble handling of this issue — parroting the laughable assertion that clerical errors caused Obama’s birthplace to be incorrectly listed, when former clients and the agency’s policy itself states that authors provide the biographical briefs — is pathetic.
Mark Steyn theorizes about the meaning of all the confusion about Obama’s birthplace.
When it comes to conspiracies, Iâ€™m an Occamâ€™s Razor man. The more obvious explanation of the variable first line in the eternally shifting sands of Obamaâ€™s biography is that, rather than pretending to have been born in Hawaii, heâ€™s spent much of his life pretending to have been born in Kenya. After all, if your first book is an exploration of racial identity and has the working title â€œJourneys in Black and White,â€ being born in Hawaii doesnâ€™t really help. Itâ€™s entirely irrelevant to the twin pillars of contemporary black grievance â€” American slavery and European imperialism. To 99.99 percent of people, Hawaii is a luxury-vacation destination and nothing else. Whereas Kenya puts you at the heart of what, in an otherwise notably orderly decolonization process by the British, was a bitter and violent struggle against the white manâ€™s rule. Cool! The composite chicks dig it, and the literary agents.
And whereâ€™s the harm in it? Everybody does it â€” at least in the circles in which Obama hangs. At Harvard Law School, where young Barack was â€œthe first African-American president of The Harvard Law Review,â€ thereâ€™s no end of famous firsts: As The Fordham Law Review reported, â€œHarvard Law School hired its first woman of color, Elizabeth Warren, in 1995.â€ …
In 1984, when â€œElizabeth Warren â€” Cherokeeâ€ was cooking up a storm, the young Obama was still trying to figure out his name: Heâ€™d been â€œBarryâ€ up till then. According to his recently discovered New York girlfriend, back when she dated him he was â€œBAR-ack,â€ emphasis on the first syllable, as in barracks, which is how his dad was known back in Kenya. Later in the Eighties, he decided â€œBAR-ackâ€ was too British, and modified it to â€œBa-RACK.â€ Some years ago, on Fox News, Bob Beckel criticized me for mispronouncing Barack Obamaâ€™s name. My mistake. All I did was say it the way theyâ€™ve always said it back in Kenya. But Obama himself didnâ€™t finally decide what his name was or how to say it until he was pushing 30. In the shifting sands of identity, he picked his crabs carefully.
â€œI suppose heâ€™d had the name ready for a long time, even then,â€ says Nick Carraway in The Great Gatsby. â€œHis parents were shiftless and unsuccessful farm people â€” his imagination had never really accepted them as his parents at all. The truth was that Jay Gatsby of West Egg, Long Island, sprang from his Platonic conception of himself. . . . So he invented just the sort of Jay Gatsby that a seventeen-year-old boy would be likely to invent, and to this conception he was faithful to the end.â€
In a postmodern America, the things that Gatsby attempted to fake â€” an elite schooling â€” Obama actually had; the things that Gatsby attempted to obscure â€” the impoverished roots â€” merely add to Obamaâ€™s luster. Gatsby claimed to have gone to Oxford, but nobody knew him there because he never went; Obama had a million bucksâ€™ worth of elite education at Occidental, Columbia, and Harvard Law, and still nobody knew him (â€œFox News contacted some 400 of his classmates and found no one who remembered himâ€). In that sense, Obama out-Gatsbys Gatsby…
Head of Athena Lemnia, possibly the work of Phidias
I am Pallas Athene; and I know the thoughts of all men’s hearts, and discern their manhood or their baseness. And from the souls of clay I turn away, and they are blest, but not by me. They fatten at ease, like sheep in the pasture, and eat what they did not sow, like oxen in the stall. They grow and spread, like the gourd along the ground; but, like the gourd, they give no shade to the traveller, and when they are ripe death gathers them, and they go down unloved into hell, and their name vanishes out of the land.
‘But to the souls of fire I give more fire, and to those who are manful I give a might more than man’s. These are the heroes, the sons of the Immortals, who are blest, but not like the souls of clay. For I drive them forth by strange paths, Perseus, that they may fight the Titans and the monsters, the enemies of Gods and men. Through doubt and need, danger and battle, I drive them; and some of them are slain in the flower of youth, no man knows when or where; and some of them win noble names, and a fair and green old age; but what will be their latter end I know not, and none, save Zeus, the father of Gods and men. Tell me now, Perseus, which of these two sorts of men seem to you more blest?’
–Charles Kingsley, The Heroes.
Conspiracies, Conspiracy Theories, Geronimo, History, Litigation, Myths and Legends, Old West, Prescott Bush, Skull and Bones, Yale
Also from Freddie:
[I]f our scheming entrenched WASP power brokers canâ€™t steal the skulls of centuries-dead American Indian revolutionaries and display them in their inner sanctumsâ€¦ whatâ€™s the point?
Some building at Yale
A statue of the Mapinguari in Rio Branco, Brazil.
Perhaps it is nothing more than a legend, as skeptics say. Or maybe it is real, as those who claim to have seen it avow. But the mere mention of the mapinguary, the giant slothlike monster of the Amazon, is enough to send shivers down the spines of almost all who dwell in the worldâ€™s largest rain forest.
The folklore here is full of tales of encounters with the creature, and nearly every Indian tribe in the Amazon, including those that have had no contact with one another, have a word for the mapinguary (pronounced ma-ping-wahr-EE). The name is usually translated as â€œthe roaring animalâ€ or â€œthe fetid beast.â€
So widespread and so consistent are such accounts that in recent years a few scientists have organized expeditions to try to find the creature. They have not succeeded, but at least one says he can explain the beast and its origins.
â€œIt is quite clear to me that the legend of the mapinguary is based on human contact with the last of the ground sloths,â€ thousands of years ago, said David Oren, a former director of research at the Goeldi Institute in BelÃ©m, at the mouth of the Amazon River. â€œWe know that extinct species can survive as legends for hundreds of years. But whether such an animal still exists or not is another question, one we canâ€™t answer yet.â€
Dr. Oren said he had talked to â€œa couple of hundred peopleâ€ who had said they had seen the mapinguary in the most remote parts of the Amazon and a handful who had said they had had direct contact.
In some areas, the creature is said to have two eyes, while in other accounts it has only one, like the Cyclops of Greek mythology. Some tell of a gaping, stinking mouth in the monsterâ€™s belly through which it consumes humans unfortunate enough to cross its path.
But all accounts agree that the creature is tall, seven feet or more when it stands on two legs, that it emits a strong, extremely disagreeable odor, and that it has thick, matted fur, which covers a carapace that makes it all but impervious to bullets and arrows.
â€œThe only way you can kill a mapinguary is by shooting at its head,â€ said Domingos Parintintin, a tribal leader in Amazonas State. â€œBut that is hard to do because it has the power to make you dizzy and turn day into night. So the best thing to do if you see one is climb a tree and hide.â€
David Oren and his sloth theory also made Discover magazine in 1999.
An Apache warrior
AP is reporting that an alleged great-grandson of the fierce Chiricahua Apache warrior Geronimo has heard the urban legend that claims that some Yale men belonging to a well known Yale senior society, while stationed at Fort Sill, Oklahoma during WWI, “crooked” (a traditional society practice meaning “to appropriate for permanent addition to the society’s memorabilia”) Geronimo’s skull, and the alleged great-grandson is writing to the White House and demanding the skull’s return.
Legend has it that Yale University’s ultrasecret Skull and Bones society swiped the remains of American Indian leader Geronimo nearly a century ago from an army outpost in Oklahoma, and now Geronimo’s great-grandson wants the remains returned.
Harlyn Geronimo, of Mescalero, N.M., wants to prove the skull and bones that were purported spirited from the Indian leader’s burial plot in Fort Sill, Okla., to a stone tomb that serves as the club’s headquarters are in fact those of his great-grandfather.
If so, he wants to bury them near Geronimo’s birthplace in southern New Mexico’s Gila Wilderness.
“He died as a prisoner of war, and he is still a prisoner of war because his remains were not returned to his homeland,” said Harlyn Geronimo, 59. “Presently, we are looking for a proper consecrated burial.”
If the bones aren’t those of Geronimo, Harlyn Geronimo is certain they belonged to one of the Apache prisoners who died at Fort Sill. He said they should still be returned.
Harlyn Geronimo sent a letter last year to President Bush, asking for his help in recovering the bones. He figures since the president’s grandfather, Prescott Bush, was allegedly one of those who helped steal the bones in 1918, the president would want to help return them to their rightful place.
But Harlyn Geronimo said: “I haven’t heard a word.”
The White House did not respond to messages asking for comment.
Their alleged custody of Geronimo’s skull is just one of numerous self-aggrandizing legends artfully disseminated by mischievous members of a certain Yale senior society over the course of its long existence.
But some politically correct and probably deluded younger alumni in a recent article in the alumni mag swallowed the yarn hook, line, and sinker.
A Yale senior society