In The Royal Tenenbaums, the patriarch of the family, Royal, wanting to be perceived as a better man in death than he was in life, had his tombstone inscribed: “Died saving his family from the wreckage of a destroyed, sinking battleship.” Royal Tenenbaum, in actuality, died of a heart attack. This is perfectly illustrative of a common human need: We all want to be remembered as something special. But some people don’t have to make up elaborate deaths to get there, the real world kills perfectly fantastically on its own, thank you. Here are five bizarre deaths just this year that prove it:

The Exploding Weather Rocket

Wang Diange was attending a wake in his own home, when suddenly the roof exploded. When the smoke cleared and the dust settled, Wang was dead. There was no clear indication of what, exactly, had struck Wang dead, (aside from the somewhat dickish desire to one up a man at his own wake,) and since it was a stormy day outside, relatives and police just figured it must have been lightning.

But when they went to cremate Wang, the body itself exploded with such force that it blew the doors clean off the cremation furnace! While one could be forgiven for interpreting this fantastic event as the unique ability of some Chinese people to self destruct like the Predator, witnesses dug a bit further for a slightly less retardedly racist explanation, and surprisingly they found one: Wang had actually been struck by an unexploded weather rocket, which hit his body with so high a velocity that it embedded itself inside him without leaving an obvious entry wound. When exposed to heat, the rocket, filled with silver iodide used to break up hail, naturally exploded, taking most of Wang’s body and all of his dignity in death with it; because no matter how great he was in life, he will always be remembered best as the setup to an “exploding wang” joke.

Years later, the Chinese Weather Bureau would settle with Wang’s family for a sum of about twelve thousand dollars. So, next time you catch yourself wondering how much, exactly, a human being’s life is worth? Yeah, it’s about the price of a used ’02 Nissan Sentra.

The Exploding Cell Phone

A Chinese man recently exploded for no discernible reason, as they are wont to do (see above) and, upon further investigation a cause was eventually found: His cell phone. It seems the man, a computer clerk in his early twenties, had just finished charging his cell phone and slipped it into his pocket when, as a coworker puts it, she “heard a loud bang and turned to find the victim lying a pool of blood.”

While a lesser people may have spoken with more confusion and fear upon seeing a close friend randomly self destruct, apparently it just ain’t even a thing anymore in China: There’s been ten reported in the last five years alone! Even though we’re talking about the most populous country on earth here, that’s still a surprisingly high number of people taking personal calls from explosions.

The Lice Murders

In what is surely the plot of the worst Kung-fu film in history, a 26 year old Russian karate expert recently took his direst revenge upon a rival family for dishonoring his lady love…by infecting her with lice. Though neighbors do agree that the lice-ridden family responsible for this intense dishonor were rude and often drank too much, I’m sure we can all agree that beating them to death with your bare hands for giving your girlfriend an itchy scalp is just a tad bit much. It gets even worse when you realize that the villainous, drunken bastard family responsible for defiling such a pristine, virginal scalp were: A 61 year old woman, her 58 year old husband, and their 25 year-old son.

See, this is what happens when you don’t get any decent villainy in your life; if somebody’s kung-fu school doesn’t get razed to the ground once in a while, all that revenge builds up and really, what’s a karate master supposed to do? Go to counseling? Scream into a throw pillow? Hell no, he fucking sets out on an epic quest for revenge, that’s what he does. That’s just how karate works.

Sadly, two people are now dead and a family (of admittedly somewhat gross people) has been totally destroyed for three basic reasons: Russians are a passionate people, karate is a deadly skill, and vodka is a son of a bitch.

The Samurai vs. Grandma

A 77 year old woman died in Indianapolis earlier this year, stricken down by tragic violence when she attempted to…wait, what? Hold on, let me read this again and make sure.

Nope, that’s correct.

The 77 year old woman died trying to break up a sword fight involving her grandson and his brother-in-law. That’s right! This year, in Indianapolis, a grandmother died breaking up a domestic swordfight. What fucking year do we live in?! I’ve never been to Indianapolis, but I was given to believe it was a bit more Dazed and Confused than The Seven Samurai.

Though it is indeed tragic that a woman as apparently badass as this grandmother could be felled by a mere blade forged of the hands of man, the real tragedy here is her grandsons’ fate: Damned to eternally suffer the wounds of their own conscience for sucking so hard at swordfighting that the only person they managed to kill was their own grandmother. So a moment of silence, please, for a woman so noble that she would literally jump headlong into a swordfight just to save two retards.

A Drive-by Corpsing

A 16-year old Chinese student named Wu Dan was taken to the hospital recently, after being knocked off his bicycle when he was hit by something thrown from a speeding car. In a statement given to police, his uncle stated that “a car passed, and a package came flying out the door.” Then, because China is apparently a seriously fucked up place to be, the uncle elaborated: “It had a dead woman inside.”

That’s right! It was a drive-by corpsing!

Finally, somebody has combined the random terror of a drive-by with the unsettling imagery of a desecrated corpse. Unless it was an angry necromancer out to settle a gangland beef with his plucky but irritating young rival, there is absolutely no valid reason for a 16 year old boy to be hit by corpse-litter hurled from a speeding automobile. The uncle, in what is quite possibly the single most understated comment ever issued in the history of tragedy, went on to describe Wu Dan’s reaction to being shot by a ghoul-bullet: “He was very upset.”

End. Fucking. Statement.

Think what you will about China after reading this article – that they are apparently a tragic fantasy land of random death – but you have to give them one thing: They are a god damn unshakeable people. And apparently they have to be, because everybody just up and fucking explodes there.

Follow Robert on Twitter, on Facebook, or his own site, I Fight Robots. In case you haven’t already gotten your fill of absurdist racism.

In our previous chapter we explored the lengths people will go to off themselves for a taste of the forbidden.  In this round we…just keep doing that.

Fugu
Of all the culinary timebombs out there, few are more celebrated than fugu.  Its mention in this category won’t surprise many, but seeming commonplace doesn’t lessen its lethality.  Until the day comes we see parents packing fugu for their kids’ lunches, you can still safely assume it is not to be trifled with.

The poison generated in the puffer fish is estimated at 1,200 times the strength of cyanide.  That makes it the second most poisonous vertebrate in the world, only slightly lagging behind the syringe-backed herpes frog:

It is easily identified by the telltale black/lime-green coloration, as well as the prominent cold sores around its mouth

The chefs that prepare it are specially licensed to do so, as even a drop of the toxin from the liver or ovaries contaminating the meat will be lethal.  Their training culminates in a final exam where they prepare the dish for themselves to consume, which brings new gravity to the notion of pass/fail.

The poison is called tetrodotoxin, which is a neurotoxin that paralyzes its victims while they are still conscious.  That means as your throat closes and your lungs deflate you won’t be able to remind your fellow diners not to tip the chef.  Still, you can hardly fault the chef for your decisions.  You’ve got no one to blame but yourself, unless of course you were unwittingly involved in Ashton Kutcher’s latest TV concept:

Dozens of people die every year from ill-prepared fugu.  The only way to be sure that you are safe is to eat farmed puffer fish, as that environment doesn’t allow them to take in the bacteria needed to create the toxin.  This option is very popular among people who enjoy semi-raw thrills like skydiving simulators or receiving half of a handjob.

BLOOD CLAMS

Blood clams are also known as blood ark clams.  The reference to blood is derived from their blood red color, not the fact that they are so hepatitis-ridden that your liver bleeds at their mere mention.  I don’t know where the “ark” comes from, but based on their reputation I have a theory:

Shellfish are Mother Nature’s little agents of retribution.  As filter feeders they basically accumulate and serve us back the foulness that we dump into their environment.  Worse, at times they can harbor toxins that no reasonable amount of cooking will destroy.  That’s why it is critical to heed health authorities and government officials when they urge you to avoid them.

Unless you live in Shanghai and you want blood clams.  Apparently then you can do whatever the fuck you want.

There has been a government ban on the sale of blood clams since 1988, due to an outbreak of hepatitis that affected 310,000 with an uncertain death toll.  The economic cost of that disaster was totaled at a staggering 1 billion yuan.  The citizens of Shanghai have since commemorated that dark period with their annual festival:

The preferred preparation of these clams is to dip them briefly in boiling water and eat them with sauce.  Even if the sauce was penicillin-based, it wouldn’t kill the viruses, let along typhoid and dysentery, that lurk within.  All the boiling water can realistically accomplish is piss the pathogens off enough to come at you with a case of violent superdiarrhea prior to destroying you.

False Morel

A quick perusal of any wilderness safety guide will tell you in no uncertain terms that mushrooms are very seldom your friends.  This has to be explicitly spelled out because humanity has an inexplicable love affair with these turd blossoms.

Nature hint #1: If it looks like a cerebrum glazed in fecal matter, don’t eat it

The Scandavian false morel mushroom represents the ultimate in culinary audacity.  In order to “safely” consume this delicacy, here are the instructions for preparation:

1. Boil and rinse under a ventilation hood.  Open all windows as well.  The fumes rising from the pot are toxic.
2. Cut the whole mushrooms after boiling into 2 or 4 pieces.  Handle while wearing gloves.  Wash your hands afterward regardless
3. Boil the mushrooms AGAIN.  Discard the cooking water, as it is also potentially lethal.
4. Rinse the mushrooms again and prepare for consumption
5. Shake your fist at the sky and taunt God for his feeble attempt to kill you

There are regulations for the disposal of nuclear waste that are less comprehensive than this.

The false morel is prepared with wilted greens in an arsenic vinaigrette

Even after all of these extensive measures are in place, not all of the toxin, gyromitrin, is removed.  Worse, it is considered a cumulative carcinogen, which means even after it fails to kill you, it remains in your system WAITING to kill you.  Does that sort of tenacity sound familar?

On second thought, I’m not really all that hungry…

Ian Cheesman is beginning to understand the appeal of wholy unnatural foods like velveeta.  For more humor and/or cheese product, check out scenicanemia.com.

We all know that food inherently carries some risks.  We know this because many of our forebears showed great diligence in getting killed by it.  Sometimes it was a toxin lurking in an untested mushroom cap, but more often our food came equipped with giant fucking teeth and refused to acknowledge how hungry we were.

Thankfully time and technology advanced.  We passed along which plants to avoid and developed weaponry that could shoot through kevlar-armored bears.  Not a minute too soon, actually:

We no longer worried about our food killing us, leaving plenty of time to fret about terrorism, global warming and erectile dysfunction.  In short, we missed worrying about food.

Despite the risk, some folks just can’t get over the thrill of a given meal possibly being their last.  If you too are a fan of your sustenance potentially destroying you, these foods may be right up your alley.  I recommend you try them with the Irony Dipping Sauce.

San Nak Ji

We’re modern people in a fast-paced world.  If we’re lucky enough to find time to eat, we don’t have time for luxuries like cooking or waiting for the animal to die.  In fact, we believe no meal is complete without catching that last flicker of resentment in its eye that lets you know you’re asshole royalty.  The Korean dish san nak ji covers all that ground and goes the extra mile to tempt homicide. 

San nak ji is a healthy helping of delicately hacked up live octopus.

Allow me to present my cultural insensitivity when I say "Oh hell no."

Even after getting the Texas Chainsaw Massacre treatment, the octopus’ nervous system is able to maintain frenzied twitching and a vague sense that it has been wronged.  The tentacle cuttings to quickly organize a coup d’etat, mobilizing forces to choke the diner internally.  The only way to prevent suction cups latching inside the throat is to thoroughly pulverize while chewing, but purists/sadists maintain the squirming sensation is part of the draw. 

There are an average of 6 deaths due to choking courtesy of san nak ji annually in South Korea.  That number rises appreciably if any of the octopi happen to watch Braveheart prior to being served.

Yes, that is the same Braveheart gag in consecutive weeks.  Goddamn, I love that movie.

Ackee

The ackee fruit is a staple in Jamaica, best known for its inclusion in the national delicacy ackee and salted fish.  It is secondarily known for causing a vomiting sickness so godawful medical science has named it after the country itself.  Considering the number of tourists in England presented with blood sausage annually, it really says something that Jamaica’s hurling earned special nomenclature.

I don’t mind the taste, I just hate getting scabs stuck in my teeth

The ackee fruit is only dangerous if you happen to consume it when it is underripe.  Or overripe.  Or if you happen to eat any flesh not immediately surrounding seeds prepared properly.  Other than that, feel free to tear right into it with abandon.

The Ackee Extraction Team Is understandably well funded

The predominate number of ackee poisoning fatalities are in children. They are less prone to shun the immature fruit, either due to inexperience or the ackee’s strangely alluring appearance when underripe:

The statistics show approximately 1 in 1,000 people in the Caribbean develop ackee poisoning every year and it is linked with the deaths of multiple groups of children internationally.  Government officials were ready to declare this fruit a scourge, right up until someone pointed out its export makes $13 million annually.  They opted instead to redirect their efforts into PR:

Ian Cheesman will bring you part 2 after part 1, occasionally after part 4, but never after part 3.  That would be ludicrous.  You can find more writing that induces vomiting at scenicanemia.com.