The internet is a vast ocean of information, occasionally broken by small islands of pure, batshit crazy. For every brief and passing trend, every fad that passes out of the collective zeitgeist, there are literally hundreds of thousands of people who, thanks to the online connectivity, can and still do dedicate their entire lives to it. Beanie Babies? Kriss Kross? Hypercolor? Their online presences are not only still alive, but thriving. One particular fanbase and their arch-nemeses, however, manage to put the feverish, insane devotion of all the others to shame. And when you’re so crazy that you make a man who spends his every waking moment building Alf-cars stable, you know that’s saying something.

You might remember Scatman John from his hit single “Scatman (Ski Ba Bop Ba Dop Bop.)” Because this man wore a suit and spouted gibberish quickly, and because it was the ‘90s and we just didn’t really give a fuck, we decided to make him famous and then promptly forget about him. His career lived on in Japan and Germany for a time, (possibly due to the double-meaning of the term “scat” leading them to believe that he was merely a proud and jazzy Coprophiliac who shared their forbidden, disturbing love of sex-pooping,) but it soon lapsed into obscurity. Here’s one of his videos.

Nothing special, right?

Well, on Youtube that video generated 18,000 comments. Even putting aside what are by far some of the oddest spam messages ever generated:

“on December 3, 1999 scatman died and went to a better place scatland. if everone was like him the world whould be? a crime and drug free and better place. Copy and paste this if you belive Scatman John wanted a better world for us all and that his legend shall live on forever in scatland. R.I.P. Scatman John
I believe that scatman will live forever”

What you might not know, is that Scatman John was a prolific Stuttering Activist, and his hit single was actually all about overcoming his impediment. Because of this, he served as something of a folk hero to the suttering community – but even so, that number is still staggering, and you can find similar numbers on almost every single other one of his officially released videos; the comments sections of which are likewise populated with this very same over-zealous, deity-like level of devotion. Here’s just one example, apparently typed up by somebody from a country where they charge for internet access by the letter:

“if i had thers wishes it would be scat man to come back and second he could live forver third i wish ppl wouldnt make fun of him and if they do il slpa them scat man i got? ur back ill go to ur grave adn wacth it evrey day ur the best R.I.P scatman u will be missed hint: ur the best plz god make him come back”

This is nothing, however, when compared to another aspect of his fanbase: The truly hard-core fans who have taken a concept present in a few of the Scatman’s songs and decided, on a whim apparently, to believe every word of his lyrics literally. His singles “Scatman’s World,”  and “Song of Scatland,” spoke of a fictional place called Scatland, where the people spoke a quirky little language and lived idyllic fairy tale lives. He then invited all of his fans to play pretend as well. It was a sweet, endearing little gesture that, again thanks to the internet, quickly grew disturbing and weird. A certain percentage of his fans now seem to believe that Scatland is a real place, and speak of the Scatman as some sort of novelty-song spouting God figure that will benevolently rule over them for all time. Again, just a small slice of this delicious Insanity Pie:

“you didn’t explain it all. His awesomeness was more than this earth can a=handle so god took him away and he was like “Your greatness will destroy heaven too!!?!?!?!” So he took? him to Scatland, the greatest land ever and the only one that can handle his aweosmeness. He rules it of course. Yeah I said he rules Scatland. Not he rules (even though he does) and it’s pretty obvious as to what I said. Scatman’s awesomeness was too great for the? earth to handle. So God killed him and took him to heaven. But his awesomeness was more than heaven could handle too. So God created a dimension for him (Scatland) and put him there. That is the only place that can handle his awesomeness. He rules scatland and spends his days scatting. Hope that worked.”

You might think that’s an isolated incident, but this theme of Scatland worship permeates every discussion board of the Scatman I could find. The fervor of his cult-like supporters, however, is neatly off-set by the other side of the spectrum: The Scat-Trolls. Again, because this is the internet, out of context comments and misunderstood lyrics have led many to believe that Scatman John was a raging racist who preached genocide and wished to cleanse the world of everything but his chosen people. These people troll Scatman boards across the internet, condemning him to hell and accusing him of everything from base racism to actual, literal murder and genocide. Here is but a small sip from their tasty box of Psycho Juice:

“im happy taht this bitch is dead. he will have fun with satan’s cock stupid ATHEIST motahfucka gay scum”
“scatman hates ALL RACES fcuk sHITMAN”
“he syas all arabic peoples are the same to him”

This hatred seems to stem from two things – first, a common misunderstanding of one his lyrics, where some people are certain that he says: “Fuck Paris, France and Tokyo, Japan / I’d like to fuck those living in Turkey and Iran.”

The actual lyric is a little less horribly offensive, and quite a bit less horribly hilarious: “The folks of Paris, France and Tokyo, Japan / Are like the folks that live in Turkey and Iran.“ The second basis for this hatred seems to come from an 1995 interview he did with the Advance for Speech Pathologists and Audiologists Magazine:

Q:  What are your feelings about other stutterers that you have met?

Scatman:   We stutterers are among the world’s sweetest people.
We know what humility is because we have been humiliated to death. We have experienced exactly what black people have experienced– oppression, suppression.

Now, given that’s a little…exaggerated. I personally know of no society that stole stutterers from their homes, exported them to distant continents, enslaved them for generations, and only recently, begrudgingly allowed them their civil rights – but then I’m no expert. Maybe this actually was the case in some foreign, godforsaken land – like Cleveland. Regardless, it doesn’t seem like he’s expressly trying to be racist. However, because the internet needs little reason to perpetuate erroneous beliefs, the two camps to this day rage against each other in the comments sections of most every page dedicated to the man.

So that’s the story of how, thanks to a bizarre sub-culture of the internet, this simple, harmless novelty singer is now not only widely believed to be directly akin to Super Hitler, but also worshipped as a sort of low-grade alternative Speech Impediment Messiah.

Next up, I explore the relatively common belief that Rico Suave was directly responsible for the JFK  assassination, eats live dogs on a daily basis, single handedly stopped World War Two using only his greasy pectoral muscles, and tragically died for our sins – impaled and left to hang for nine days on a giant, plastic, zebra-striped cowboy hat.

Read more from Robert at his own site, I Fight Robots, where you can continue to read short essays about subjects that you have absolutely no interest in.

Let’s not be pretentious here; these are just a bunch of unbelievably disturbing animals. Why? Because when it comes right down to the line, there are only two things that nature is really, really good at: Majestic landscapes, and unrelenting horror. In my experience, the internet could give a shit less about majestic landscapes, so…

Thylacine

The Thylacine, more commonly known as the Tasmanian Tiger, looks like a cross between a kangaroo and a dog because, ridiculously enough, it pretty much was. Though its behavior was more along the lines of the modern wolf, it was still technically a marsupial, and both sexes of the Thylacine had pouches just like their Kangaroo cousins. Unfortunately, it was hunted to extinction around the turn of the 20th century. Now, isn’t that a shame? Wasn’t it cute?

Now here it is possessed by the devil.

You see, the most unique trait of the Thylacine was the ability to open its jaws up to 120 degrees – like a snake. This didn’t really make it more dangerous to humans in any way, but it’s not like that news is really going to help you to stop crying now, is it?

Pistol Shrimp

This is the Pistol Shrimp and, well, it looks pretty much like every other shrimp. Call me a racist, but if we’re to be honest here, they all look the same to me – which is to say that they seem naked without cocktail sauce. I wouldn’t say that to its face, though, because the Pistol Shrimp takes its name literally:

They call it the Pistol Shrimp because it can snap its larger claw shut so fast that it causes an underwater shockwave to travel straight outward from the appendage. The resulting blast is powerful enough to kill small fish at a distance, and even stun much larger ones. In a nutshell, the Pistol Shrimp has evolved its hand into a god damn gun. It is one of only a few species capable of producing Sonoluminescence – which is a sound so loud that it actually produces light – because the bubble created by this claw-shot, upon collapsing, briefly creates temperatures hotter than the sun. So to sum up: There is a shrimp out there in the ocean – right now  – that wields a power akin to that of the sun itself, and fires death-rays from its claws. I’d stay away from the Red Lobsters for a while, because when the revolution comes, they will not be spared.

Goblin Shark

The Goblin Shark, found mostly in the deep-sea waters around Japan, can grow up to 11 feet in length and weighs about 400 pounds. They are predominantly blind, and instead are forced to hunt using a primitive form of radar. When they sense prey, they can extend a special set of jaw muscles that pull the target into their waiting mouths. To put that another way, when this giant sea predator sees you with its shark equivalent of Spidey-sense, it will hurl its mouth at you, bite down, and then reel you back in. Like a frog. Like a 400 pound, underwater frog-monster that, in place of a sticky tongue, instead shoots out dozens of razor sharp teeth with crushing bite power. Here I would normally make a “in Japan, shark fish for you” joke, but I think I’ll just call my mom and cry a bit instead.

Listen: I know you may not feel like watching a video right now, but you seriously need to play that. It will wrong your soul in profound, and irreversible ways.

Chinese Giant Salamander

The Chinese Giant Salamander, also known as the Hellbender Salamander, is not only the largest species of Salamander on earth, but also has the most undeniably Metal name in the entire animal kingdom. They can reach lengths of up to six feet long, and live for fifty years or more. Like most salamanders, the Hellbender also has a harpoon instead of a tongue. What? You didn’t know that? Oh, okay: They have bone projectiles attached to lengths of stringy muscles that they fire out of their mouths and spear their prey with. Now you know! Isn’t learning fun?

Oh, it also looks like the Devil’s penis, so it’s got that going for it…

Chrysopelea

Chrysopelea is the scientific term for the Flying Snake. But don’t worry, that’s just a dramatic name – these snakes don’t actually fly. That would be ridiculous! They really just glide for great distances..

They are actually the most adept of the ‘gliding’ animals, even outpacing the famous Flying Squirrel. The chief difference here being that, when you see a flying squirrel, you’re likely to say something along the lines of “aww, Flying Squirrel! Cuuuute!” Whereas sightings of the Chrysopelea are usually accompanied by cries of “what the fuck?! Snakes can fly?! I quit life!”

On the plus side, if it’s not flying directly at your fucking head, the Chrysopelea looks like it’s having a hell of a good time in pictures.

In conclusion, what I really wanted to say was this: Isn’t living indoors nice? We really take that simple, beautiful fact for granted lately, and I hope I helped you to appreciate it just the littlest bit more. So hey, you’re welcome!

Read more from Robert at his own site, I Fight Robots, but be quick about it, because apparently its only a matter of time before chickens evolve Adamantium skeletons and Grizzly Bears learn to harness the power of flight.

It’s Thanksgiving time, and while the typical American family’s annual tradition of violently arguing with their in-laws and swearing about football while simultaneously attempting to devour an entire gargantuan, hideous bird may seem a little odd to you, just remember: It could be worse… you could be some sort of crazy foreigner! So, in the spirit of ignorant xenophobia, I present to you a few different ways people have celebrated their Thanksgiving that make you look like kind of a pussy for complaining about the fact that there’s grapes in your stuffing, (seriously, why are there grapes in the stuffing? Nobody likes that. Don’t do that.)

Hangin’ Out with Hippies in the Desert

The Ancient Egyptians celebrated their spring harvest-time with festivities dedicated to Min, the god of vegetation and fertility. Yes, they had one god for both ferns and fuckin’, a fact which may well have made Min the world’s very first hippy.

They would engage in the general sort of all-around carousing you’d expect of an Ancient people just stoked at the prospect of not starving to death for a few weeks, but more specifically they mimicked a lot of the fundamentals that make up our modern day Thanksgivings: They threw parades, feasted, and even watched sporting events!

However, the similarities end there, as it was also tradition to throw yourself upon the ground and wail in extreme mock-grief in order to fool the crop spirits. So unless you have to sob like a little girl with a dead pony every time you see a sweet potato, it’s safe to say your Holiday’s got one up on the ancient Egyptians.

Celebrating Cheerios

The Romans held an annual festival in the fall of every year in honor of their harvest god, Ceres. They threw the standard sporting events, parades, and feasts that are still common to most harvest celebrations, and all was generally unremarkable save for the standard vomiting and orgies that made Ancient Romans so great. The festival was called Cerelia, and because Ceres was the god of the corn crop, we eventually derived the word for Cereal from those celebrations.

Ceres just wants to know what the deal is with those plastic bags – so hard to open! Right?!

While that certainly doesn’t sound all bad, you’ve just got to think how shitty the rest of the year had to be, when your entire society throws a giant parade in honor of the simple fact that people get to have breakfast.

We Give Thanks to Thee For This Night Train, O Lord

Read more from Robert at his own site, I Fight Robots, or just get drunk and punch your step-dad because he’s not the boss of you!

Nothing invigorates the media like a good celebrity scandal, and it’s no wonder – the paparazzi get their pictures, the tabloids sell their papers, the entertainment shows fill their half-hour slots with fake teeth and soul-killing puns, and we the viewers get to watch rich, beautiful people mentally implode – it’s a classic win/win scenario. But there’s a problem: Celebrities have such insanely boring scandals – this starlet is pregnant, that athlete needs therapy, some lead singer was driving drunk – it’s just tedious. Where is the element of insanity? The aura of unbelievability? That modicum of the purely fantastic that makes for truly good storytelling?

Celebrity scandals should start taking cues from either comic book supervilliany or pulpy spy novels to relearn how to capture the attention of their audience, and there’s a few already out there setting the bar high, one fuck-all crazy, espionage filled, ridiculous story at a time:

Julia Child Cooks Up Intrigue and Espionage

Julia Child, a name synonymous with class, culinary prowess, and refined manners, actually began her career as one of the founding members of the OSS, the precursor to what we now call the CIA. They were the first official ‘spy’ agency formed by the US government, and Child was one of their initial field operatives, where her job was mostly delivering secret messages to undercover agents in enemy territory. You might be tempted to make some lame cooking jokes at this point…and for once you would be completely and totally justified in doing so: Child actually used her culinary prowess on more than one occasion to serve her country.

In what sounds like a failed Mad TV skit, Julia Child was once charged with the task of stopping sharks from running into aquatic mines set out for German ships, thus prematurely alerting them to the presence of mine fields. She retreated to her lab, and soon cooked up an on-the-spot shark repellant to deter them…and it worked! It is a beautiful world indeed, when it is not the least bit untrue to say this: Julia Child – queen of the upside-down cake, author of your mother’s favorite cook-book and seller of lace aprons – spent World War II fighting off motherfucking sharks just for the right to kill some Nazis first.

Errol Flynn: Dashing Leading Man, Flamboyant Swashbuckler… Nazi Superspy?

Errol Flynn was best known for his roguish demeanor, swaggering charm, and leading-man good looks. He was slightly less well known for being a Nazi spy because well… that’s kind of the point of being a spy, isn’t it? Errol Flynn: The Untold Story, one of many memoirs about the late actor, stirred up some controversy when it heavily implied that Flynn was secretly spying for the Nazis during World War II. However, papers currently being petitioned for release from MI5 records may not only vindicate Flynn of these allegations, but actually prove that he was working as a double agent inside the Nazis, on behalf of both the British and Allied forces. A dashing, quick-witted pretty-boy with a severe alcohol addiction and a serious misogynistic streak working as a secret agent for the British? If you took away the molester mustache and burgundy tights, that makes Errol Flynn the half-gay inspiration for James Bond.

The theory that Flynn was a double-agent may have some holes, though: On his deathbed he left instructions that he was not to be buried at Forest Lawn, a prestigious graveyard much sought after by celebrities. When asked why, Flynn said that he didn’t “want to be buried amongst all those Jews. Better to bury me at sea with sharks; those I can trust.” And when your last request is entirely devoted to spiting the Jewish community, it’s a fair bet that you weren’t just ‘playing’ at anti-Semite. Unless Flynn was still just feigning his hatred to the bitter end in one last, desperate attempt to spy on Adolf Hitler…in hell.

Steven Seagal Vs. The Mafia in… Out for Justice IV: Out For Justicier

After filming wrapped on that sweeping Victorian-era period romance, Exit Wounds, Steven Seagal decided to quit making violent movies and focus instead on pursuing enlightenment on the advice of his spiritual guru. God, apparently not too keen on the prospect of hanging out with Seagal and his douchebag ponytail for all eternity, had other plans: Seagal’s former partner, Jules Nasso, had already signed him for five more action films when Seagal decided to find religion, and so he turned to his brother, a mafia enforcer, for help in persuading the star to fulfill his contract. The pair brought Seagal to an upscale steakhouse, where they met up with several other mafia enforcers and proceeded to shake Seagal down.

Now, you may expect Seagal to have considered the situation in silence for a moment before turning to the largest of the mobsters, narrowing his eyes and saying something like “How do you like your steak? Me? I prefer mine…bloody,” at which point he’d become a flurry of rapid jump-cuts, a cacophony of  snapping bones would ring out, and it would finally end with his former partner getting beaten half to death with a pepper mill.

In reality, Seagal “appeared terrified,” agreed to “do whatever [they] want,” and then immediately fled the restaurant to call the police. Of course, Seagal has starred in over 20 direct-to-video violent action movies since then, so either the mob wasn’t exactly scared off by Seagal’s willingness to ‘go tell on them,’ or he found out that enlightenment doesn’t exactly pay the bills…unless you film yourself breaking its wrist for an hour and a half while muttering religious-themed puns about how badly it’s getting its ass kicked.

Rick James Was Not Kidding About That Whole Superfreak Thing

On the night of August 2nd, 1991, Rick James and his girlfriend Tanya Hijazi kidnapped, tortured and molested a complete stranger for over 24 hours straight. Frances Alley, who was either just an unwitting victim of terrible circumstances or an unfortunate winner of the “Spend a Day with Rick James” radio contest, arrived at James’ house for a party only to find he and his girlfriend completely alone, and unfathomably, ridiculously, torture-somebody-for-a-day stoned. The couple almost immediately “set upon Frances and restrained her” by tying her to a chair, where they “burnt [her] with heated crack pipes,” and “performed sexual acts in front of and upon her person.” Most likely that’s formal legal terminology for James and his partner having nonconsensual sex with Mrs. Alley, but it kind of sounds like the couple used her as some sort of terrified human sex-swing which, considering who we’re talking about here, is not entirely outside the realm of possibility.

James was eventually arrested, but soon made bail for these charges and, (perhaps because he completely misunderstood the concept of Double Jeopardy,) immediately fucking did it again! James and Tanya abducted one Mary Sauger when she arrived at their hotel for a business meeting, where they restrained and beat her over a period of more than 20 hours. That’s right: Rick James and his girlfriend kidnapped and tortured a woman for nearly a day, while still out on bail…for kidnapping and torturing a woman!

So yeah, that song Superfreak? Apparently Rick James did not just intend that as a sexy funk jam – it was a warning for anybody with a vagina planning on meeting Rick James that didn’t have a day or so to lose being used as fuck-furniture by a guy with predator dreads and his very, very freaky girl. The kind you seriously do not take home to mother.

Read more from Robert at his own site, I Fight Robots