Posts Tagged ‘Freak show’

The Litter Channel

Wednesday, September 1st, 2010

He’d gladly put your kid out on the stroll, even if he’s only 2.

There used to be a channel on American television called “The Learning Channel.” It used to show programs and documentaries about various health issues, cooking, biographies and historical subjects. That was a long time ago. Unfortunately that channel is gone, replaced by a network called TLC. TLC is an acronym for “The Litter Channel.” You see, the producers at TLC have replaced all the decent, watchable programs with programs about couples with anywhere from eight to 19 kids. Yes, people are now producing litters, and with no other means of support, are whoring their own children out to television networks. I blame the jackasses who watched the tasteless display of famewhoring that was “Jon & Kate Plus Who Gives a Fuck?” Seriously, who gives a fuck? You had eight kids. It’s not my problem, and I don’t want to hear about it. That wonderful, nuclear family is now divorced, the mother has become a surgery grubbing famewhore and I’m sure those kids will be either in therapy or jail by the time they’re 12.

Pimping out the kids; a fine North American tradition since 1935.

If those girls don’t look familiar, they are the Dionne quintuplets. Born in May of 1935, they were the first surviving set of quintuplets in North America and they lived their lives as a theme park attraction to tourists in Canada. This was before the advent of television, so you actually had to go to the compound where they lived and observe them in through one-way screens in their natural habitat—their house. Yes, people cashed in. Ironically, it was not their parents. Doctors declared their parents unfit and decided to take the girls into captivity with the hopes of someday rehabilitating them to their natural environment. Oh, and using them as a form of entertainment for gawkers across two continents.

The Litter Channel continues in this fine tradition with their entire line-up of prime time shows: 19 Kids & Counting, Quints-By-Surprise, Kate Plus Eight (Still Don’t Give a Fuck), and Holy Shit, My Uterus is a Fucking Clown Car. The latest blight on the broadcast ether is “Quints,” a delightful story about a couple of rich fucks who built a McMansion in Texas, decided to implant all five embryos during in vitro fertilization (so…were those five kids really a surprise then?) and then lost their fortune during the real estate bust. Nobody likes being a broke-ass loser, so they did what comes naturally: pimp out their kids. They also have a blog site that looks like a vanity ministry (Jayzus would be so proud) and of course, all the self-righteous hypocrisy that accompanies religious lunacy. I don’t have a picture of these assholes; I think they’re appalling. Maybe there’s a picture of America’s other favorite batch of religious nutjobs in need of an IUD, the Duggars!

Nope, not them. Although I have to say that this slime packed can has a shitload more taste than the people who watch those shows.

I’m a chemist, not a biologist, but I seem to remember from my bio classes that humans are not supposed to spawn litters. The uterus is most likely a single-occupancy dwelling, and can comfortably accommodate two at best. However, there are some that find having a litter quite fashionable. It’s the current trend. Have kids later in life, and when you do, have a litter. Look, if we were supposed to have litters, we’d also have six nipples, just like a cat. I have no problem with people who have kids later in life. What I’m taking issue with is jackasses that have the 27 embryos implanted then whine and cry that their broke and need to join the freak show to earn a living. You people made the choice; suck it up bitches. What I found even more galling is this spawning waste of taxpayer’s money:

Nadya Suleman, having kids by the dozen with your money. Isn’t Welfare an automatic disqualification for in vitro?

This is Nadya Suleman, aka, “Octomom.” Suleman had her doctor implant six embryos she had stored in the freezer after a previous in vitro treatment. Two of them twinned, and seven months later we have a litter. “Awwwww”-ers everywhere were on board with this, getting ready to shuffle donations of diapers, formula and cash to this whore until they ran headlong into the truth. Octomom had in vitro done while she was collecting Welfare and was on Medical/Medicare. Oh, she also had six other kids from previous in vitro cycles which she couldn’t afford to feed and literally could not put a roof over their heads. At the time of the octuplets’ births, she recently lost her home to foreclosure, collected Welfare and used food stamps. She lives in California. Since I pay taxes in this state, and don’t want my money being spent on this bullshit, I think that I have the right to sell those kids to the first buyer I find on EBay. Fuck her and her litter; I want my money back.

Suleman didn’t get her reality show on TLC. The circumstances of that whole reproductive debacle incised the public and got her in vitro doctor stripped of his license. Serves them right. Unfortunately some innocent kids will pay the price for her bullshit. The same can be said for the Duggars, the Joneses and the Gosslins. Those kids will be lucky to not end up axe murderers or on Thorazine by the time they reach 16. At the very least, these kids will grow up hounded and haunted by fans and stalkers. At worst, these kids will become the most narcissistic bastards who ever walked and feel they can do whatever they like and consequences be damned. The rest of us will have to hear about it for all eternity as well, condemning us to a life of repetitive fluff pieces straight out of media hell. Still looking for the Duggars…

Nope, but I’m getting warmer!

Look, I’m not saying that no good can ever come from a big family. In fact, there’s one family with 19 children that was so successful, all of the children became healthy, relatively happy, productive adults. What makes the story so remarkable is that the children were NOT the spawn of a couple of in vitro addicted yuppies or religious loonies. The DeBolt family adopted 15 special needs children throughout their younger years. The adoption agencies considered the children “unadoptable” because the all of them had one or more physical or mental disability. These people adopted them and raised them to be well-grounded, successful adults. It’s worth noting that they did this far away from the prying eyes of the public. They never begged for donations, didn’t want people’s pity and never once whored those kids out to a television network. Big props to the DeBolts: there are true saints in this world.

May I hold these folks up as a shining example? Take that famewhores.

Okay, I’m quitting these bitches now. If I keep staring at these people, I’m going to be tempted to round them up with control sticks, put them in a metal van and take them to the shelter to be spayed. I’m never turning TLC on again unless they give me a shitload of money to watch this bullshittery. However, I don’t want to forget why I’m doing this. Let me immortalize this entry with that picture of the Duggars.

Tourist

Friday, August 27th, 2010

I am a stranger in a strange land. What’s bizarre is that I lived in that land for at least three years and was born just north of there. I find it amusing when I go back home when people are stumped over how much I’ve changed. Well, a decade does that to you. Anyhoo, my last trip home I took a little trip to the fair. You know this; I’ve shown you the evidence. What takes the cake (the one that is not moldy) is that I had the kind, scantily toothed man running the freak show call me over for a little chat. He asked me where I was from. I told him Oakland, California. He said…

“I just knew you were a tourist, you’re just taking pictures of everything. I bet a city girl like you never seen anything like this before.”

I had to laugh. What to say, what to say. You know, I’ve been to that county fair numerous times before. Hell, I’ve had my knitting win prizes at the fair, and got a $10 prize for my award winning wax beans. Yes, I’ve been there. However, I apparently carry myself much differently now.

So, I know what’s really on your mind. I have one thing to say. We could do that, but there’s always the question of what to do with the hostages. I say we open the liquor cabinet, crank the music and demand to go to Barbados. We’re talking total party plane here.

Oh. I guess you weren’t thinking of that. No matter, here’s what else is on your mind.

They don’t let you take pictures in that freak show. It’s a shame; I could’ve promoted that bitch all the way to the west coast. No matter, we can all still enjoy the old skool painted freak show signs.

That’s even better than a two-headed turtle. It can fly.

Twice as much of butt head. Get it? Butt? Hehehehe…

Step right up, folks...

You know you’re hot for the fat lady.

I can’t wait to see the fish people. They’re in the freak show by dint of being fish people (“Pirates of the Caribbean).

I like carnies, they’re good people. This traveling freak show had the added bonus of being a petting zoo. You could feed and fondle the freaks. (You just take that sentence however you want to. We have a similar phenomenon happening in San Francisco, but it has an entirely different context.)

This is not that tattoo lady. She actually works at the sno cone stand.

I wasn't lying; I promised you sno kones. I like the blue ones.

In the world where you can’t put people on display, we can still exhibit freak animals and pickled punks. I have to admit I was disappointed, because I really wanted to see another octomom live and in captivity. I miss the days of the real side shows. Remember the girl that changed into a gorilla?

Those were the days.

Penn & Tell actually perform that act on stage in Vegas. I loved it. They also did the headless man shtick.

NOT Penn & Teller. But man, is that a klassic or what? Nobody even knows when this picture was taken.

I know exactly how that one’s done, and there’s a reason it’s done in a darkened room under a spotlight. Don’t worry, that’s all I will say. I love believing there are headless people roaming around out there and there’s actually quarters hidden behind my ears, as you do.

Now, there are some things that reach freak show status, but aren’t actually in the freak show.

It’s a sheep wearing a sweater. Let me run that by you again. It’s a sheep. In a sweater. A sheep. No freak here…

Those guys aren’t nearly as interesting as the fish people, though. I know you were waiting for this…

No words.

While on this ride, you must obey all posted signs and placards. Oh, and keep in mind that people get nervous when you start taking pictures of things they don’t understand, but are impossible to resist if you happen to be me.

You can certainly see the attraction, right?

Enjoy your weekend and take in a show some time, preferably a freak show that’s not on cable. Of course, that may be hard these days. Freak shows are not politically correct or socially acceptable. And besides, if you actually could find freaks hanging around waiting to relieve you of a few bucks for the privileges of gawking, it’s not like they’d openly advertise it.

Well what do you know? My bad!

The Freak Show

Tuesday, April 6th, 2010

“Welcome back my friends to the show that never ends, we’re so glad you could attend; come inside, come inside…” Emerson, Lake & Palmer

Back in the bad old days you could go to any circus, carnival, seaside pier or state fair and enjoy an attraction called “the side show.” “Side show” is a polite term for it; it’s commonly known as the freak show. The freak show was a display of human grotesquery. If a person had a horrific birth defect, he or she could find work displaying it in the freak show. Born with dwarfism or midget? Get a job in the freak show. Have so much hair you need the full Brazilian, full Venezuelan, part of Columbia and a partial Paraguay combined? Get a job in the freak show. Covered in tattoos? Freak show! Able to swallow swords, hammer a nail into your nose or just own a swell collection of two-headed reptiles? The freak show actively recruited someone of your unique talents.

The Bearded lady, before the days of electrolysis.

One day Americans woke up and became enlightened and sensitive individuals. This happened circa 1950 when ordinary people began protesting freak shows for exploiting the individuals they employed. In 1984 Barbara Baskin filed a disability rights case in order to free a freak show employee Otis “Frog Boy” Jordan from his human bondage. He ended up on welfare and had to fight for two years to regain his livelihood. I’m sure her heart was in the right place. By 1990, Americans were so totally enlightened that “freak shows” became side shows limited to bizarre animals and pickled punks, “retarded” became the newest taboo insult, “midgets” became “Little People,” and marijuana became something you smoked but didn’t inhale. (Yeah, I don’t buy that last one either.)

The modern bearded lady. I take no responsibility for her resemblance to Mr. T.

The freak show died. Rest in peace, beloved freak show. The unenlightened miss you.

Did the freak show die? Did it? Look again…

Welcome to the wonderful world of “reality” television. I put the term reality in quotes because there is no such thing as reality television. No, there isn’t. If it’s reality, why do they have writers, script doctors, dialogue coaches and editors? Yes, they do. I know you don’t all believe me, so I’ll wait till you run over to www.hulu.com and check the credits at the end of your favorite reality show. Back so soon? Okay, so let’s put our dollars in the box and visit the freak show.

I’m noticing that freaks come in five main varieties these days: Genetic Freak Animals, Breeders, Medical Atrocities, Little People and Poor Life Choices. Walk with me through the exhibit and let’s look at each of these delights.

Genetic Freak Animals

The name says it all. We can put all of our two-headed reptiles, six-legged cows, two-headed calves, cyclops piglets and really big chickens here. The one side show attraction I saw at the Bedford County Fair in Pennsylvania was cleverly titled, “The Really Big Chicken.” Yes, in fact, the chicken was really big. It wasn’t the size of the chicken in The Hoboken Chicken Emergency, but it was really big. I was impressed. This category is the least controversial, provided you’re not a Peta member. If you’re a Peta member, too bad. There’s enough one-eyed bacon for everybody, except you. Go eat a salad and leave my tent.

Two-headed turtle. 'Nuff said.

Breeders

Oh, yes, the religious right loves these people. I call them the “Breeders.” Breeders are people, who for some reason, felt the need to contribute their fair share to the little over-population problem we currently have on this earth. They have six, eight…maybe 19 kids give or take, and usually no real income to support all this spawn without a major showbiz contract. These people include the Quiver Full Movement, the Duggars and Jon & Kate Plus Who Gives a Fuck? You had no common sense and a fertility doctor that implanted too many embryos. That’s not entertainment, that’s a Welfare check and food stamps in progress. I guess when you have to take care of that many kids; you really do need a TV show or career as an NFL quarterback or something to support it. These people have tried praying, home schooling, raisin’ their chillins in the Lord properly, gaming the system, every thing except a fucking IUD. Don’t we have a mandatory spay/neuter program for religious nutjobs and ignorant morons in the states? Have they managed to scare every single Planned Parenthood out of town? Here’s a tip to get these jackasses to stop breeding: stop watching these stupid ass shows.

Jon & Kate, a divorce and a catastrophic failure to use a birth control device despite the fact that your husband is an ass.



The Tree Man, a recent Discovery Channel "documentary."

Medical Atrocities

You wouldn’t spend your free time going to the burn clinic or oncology ward at the local hospital laughing at the patients for a good time. So, why are we all lining up to witness stricken individuals like this?

Yeah, we’re so enlightened now. There are too many of these types of shows for me to mention. We’ve had the girl with no face, the girl with eight legs, monstrous tumors of every size, shape and weight, giants and misshapen limbs of all sorts. Before 1950, these people’s only hope for an income and some financial independence was to join up with the traveling freak show and display their bodies for money. Thank God we’ve come so far since then. Oh, wait, maybe we haven’t. See, television makes us all able to enjoy the traditional freak show from the comfort of our own homes for a mere $20 a month (and up to $200+ depending on how much premium services and porn we indulge in). The freak show comes to our homes now so we can be lazy and eat ice cream right out of the carton and not manage to look like a bunch of gawking assholes in the process.

Girl with eight legs worshipped as a goddess in India until she was struck by the vagaries of modern medicine.

Chinese man with a gigantic tumor in his face. I bet you're all secretly grateful you aren't him right now.

I’d say something cliché and stupid like, this has never happened before, but that would be disingenuous. I seem to remember a story about a man who had to resort to displaying his disfigured form waaaay back in, uh, well… I don’t know. If I could only remember his name…

Joseph Merrick, The Elephant Man.

Little People, Big World

Little People

Little People (LPs as they like to be called, it has nothing to do with vinyl or a recording career) were once called “midgets.” They find this term derogatory and completely inappropriate in today’s politically correct society. I’m sure that the majority of these people are appalled at the idea of displaying themselves in a freak show for money. After all, most forms of dwarfism merely cause the person to be shorter in stature than a “normal” person. If you asked an LP these days if it was okay to put yourself on display to the public to make money, he or she would blanch at the thought. How dare you even suggest it? That’s so rude, so inappropriate, so discriminatory, so damn….

Damn. Now this is me asking this question, “How fucking cynical is that?” How about this?

Look! You can train dogs even if you are short!

Since we’re now at the freak show, I’m not even going to try to be politically correct about this. Apparently everything is better when it’s done by midgets. Hooray! Midgets can train dogs, make candy, hold a job and even make babies. Hooray! Look at those amazing midgets go! Go, midgets, go! Isn’t it fascinating, they’re almost like normal people!

Little Chocolatiers: See, every chocolatey treat is better when it's made by the Keebler Elves.

Oh, wait, maybe they are. Then again, maybe they’re actually super magical beings. Maybe they just happen to have shorter limbs than “normal” people, but looking at this fantastic programming lineup, you wouldn’t know that shorter stature is the only real difference. Look, they’re so cute; you can put them in your Victorian folly and still train them to be doctors! If I were any of the people in these series, I’d be filled with ambivalence. It’s a fucking insult to their intelligence, pure and simple. However, who am I to deny somebody a good living? If they want to display themselves in the freak show, it’s their right. You go, midgets, make that money! At least they’re saved the hassle of traveling with the circus, being shot out of a cannon and possibly being squashed by an elephant.

The Enigma, I'm sure he's not looking for a day job.

Poor Life Choices

This is the last, but certainly not the least of all the freak show categories. Look around you. These people were not born freaks, but choose the lifestyle of their own volition. Here we see the tattooed people, sword swallowers, blockheads, pierced wonders and people who are willing to stick metal skewers through their own flesh just for shits and giggles (and occasionally cash).

Well, at least it’s not the drudgery of a 9 to 5. You, too, can become a freak in the poor life choices category. You just have to be willing to tattoo yourself from head to toe, learn how to relax on a bed of nails while someone breaks a cinder block on your stomach or light your own farts. The possibilities are endless; you just have to get creative. I might be so bold as to make a suggestion in this category. If you want originality, you might try getting all the positions of the Kama Sutra tattooed on your body in such a way that when you flex your strong man/woman muscles, it provides the viewer with some much desired live action pornography. And one and two, and lift and squat, and don’t let the kids see this one; it’s going to produce too many awkward questions…

The Torture King with some really big pins through his chin. I'm sure he's up to date on his tetanus shots.

And now, in the immortal words of P.T. Barnum, “On to the Great Egress…”

This is NOT the Great Egress.

I took two years of Latin, look it up. It’s best way to get out of the tent, believe me.