Showing posts with label fucked-up artifacts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fucked-up artifacts. Show all posts

Vagina Dentata




Rape has been violating women since the dawn of humanity. Even before that, evolutionarily. Our Great Ape relations – chimpanzees and gorillas – are rapists, and approximately 50% of orangutans are the result of rape. Gang rape, war rape, prison rape, date rape, serial rape, spousal rape, incestuous rape... hundreds of millions of females have been terrified, humiliated, injured and scarred.
Rape has to be halted, but how? Is there a transhumanist remedy? A technological solution?

The “Rape Capital of the World” is currently South Africa, with a University of South Africa study estimating 2,777 rapes per day, for a total of 1 million a year. The South African Law Commission asserts the figure is considerably higher: 1.69 million per year. Journalist, rape survivor, and anti-rape activist Charlene Smith claims that a South African woman is raped every 26 seconds; 40% of the victims are children, and 65% are gang-raped, aka “jackrolled.” Human Rights Watch reports that 28% of South African males has admitted to sexual assault, in this nation where 16.9% of the adult population is HIV/AIDS infected.

To combat this atrocity, the citizenry invented two retaliatory devices. A “killer tampon“, developed by 72-year-old Jaap Haumann in 2000, sports a guillotine blade attached to a hollow cylinder that, if sprung, decapitates any intruding penile head. Haumann estimated that 1 million women would arm their crotches with his contraption, but he was ridiculed in the media and sales never materialized.

“Rape-aXe” was next. Unveiled in 2005 by medical technician Dr. Sonnet Ehlers, this simple latex sheath transforms the female orifice into a shark-like vagina dentata. 25 razor sharp barbs, facing inward, serve as a “rape trap” that painfully hooks the penetrator. The snared assailant, claims Dr. Ehlers, “cannot pee or walk when it is on, and if he tries to remove it, it will clasp even tighter.” The vengeful fangs can only be
removed surgically, a procedure that would alert police and imprison the rapist.

Taken from ANARCHO-TRANSHUMAN: A Journal of Radical Possibility & Striving


Happy Birthday Mein Führer... I mean Mr President

This is a poster/flyer for a Down/Melvins/Weedeater concert. Probably the best thing. Ever.

The original can be found here.

Ignorance and Fear

This is a 1918 german anti-anarchism propaganda poster. It reads: Misery and destruction follow anarchy.

Spomenik


Check that motherfucker out! That is truly, in the original sense of the word, epic. If only if it wasn't tied to so much pain and tragedy.

There are hundreds of them scattered throughout villages and rural landscapes in the former Yugoslavia. Once the site of pilgrimages by schoolchildren, military veterans, patriots, and mourners who had lost family in WWII, these Spomeniks (monuments) are today rarely visited. Often built out of concrete in a style dubbed Brutalism, these secular totems were meant to endure, impervious to the mere march of time—a testament and continuous witness to the new unity of the historically fractious Balkan states—the unity of all the Slavs, YUGOSLAVIA.


See more of them Brutalist monuments over nhya.

Death Wears Bunny Slippers



This is a legitimate patch in the US army given to missileers (that is one funny word). And oh, the cynicism, you could cut it with a knife. Fuckheads.

Route Couture




Or roadkill fashion. It is very alluring and damn pretty. And it's not creepy at all, honest.

Ogle here.

Nábrókarstafur



Nábrókarstafur, literally Necropants, is a dead man's skin from the waist down.

From the Museum of Icelandic Sorcery and Witchcraft:

If you want to make your own necropants (literally; nábrók) you have to get permission from a living man to use his skin after his dead.

After he has been buried you must dig up his body and flay the skin of the corpse in one piece from the waist down. As soon as you step into the pants they will stick to your own skin. A coin must be stolen from a poor widow and placed in the scrotum along with the magical sign, nábrókarstafur, written on a piece of paper. Consequently the coin will draw money into the scrotum so it will never be empty, as long as the original coin is not removed. To ensure salvation the owner has to convince someone else to overtake the pants and step into each leg as soon as he gets out of it. The necropants will thus keep the money-gathering nature for generations.


Have a look at an actual pair of Necropants, you witchcraft practising perverts you.

Damn that is weird.

The Hello Kitty Chainsaw

... and while on the subject of fucked-up artifacts.

The Godmachine



John Murray Spear's first and most important task, set to him by the Electricizers (the spirits of certain people including Benjamin Franklin), was the construction of the New Messiah. It would be built on High Rock Hill in Lynn, a town north of Boston, MA.

High Rock Cottage, where the New Messiah would be built, belonged to the Hutchinsons, who were both spiritualists and reformers. Assisting Spear and the Electricizers was a group that included Rev. S.C. Hewitt, editor of the Spiritualist newspaper New Era; Alonzo E. Newton, editor of the New England Spiritualist; and a woman called “the Mary of the New Dispensation”. The identity of the New Mary has never been clear. Nobody knows still who “Mary” was.



Bringing the Messiah into life involved four-steps. First, Brother Spear entered a “superior state” during which he was given plans from the Electricizers. Building it required nine months for construction (gestation) and in that time he received 200 ‘revealments’ providing detailed instructions on the materials to be used, how the different parts should be shaped and the pieces put together. The parts would be carefully machined from copper and zinc, and the total cost would eventually reach $2,000.



No images of the New Motive Power exist, but apparently it was impressive, sitting on a big dining room table. “From the center of the table rose two metallic uprights connected at the top by a revolving steel shaft. The shaft supported a transverse steel arm from whose extremities were suspended two large steel spheres enclosing magnets. Beneath the spheres there appeared a very curiously constructed fixture, a sort of oval platform, formed of a peculiar combination of magnets and metals. Directly above this were suspended a number of zinc and copper plates, alternately arranged, and said to correspond with the brain as an electric reservoir. These were supplied with lofty metallic conductors, or attractors, reaching upward to an elevated stratum of atmosphere said to draw power directly from the atmosphere. In combination with these principal parts were adjusted various metallic bars, plates, wires, magnets, insulating substances, peculiar chemical compounds, etc. At certain points around the circumference of these structures, and connected with the center, small steel balls enclosing magnets were suspended. A metallic connection with the earth, both positive and negative, corresponding with the two lower limbs, right and left, of the body, was also provided.”



In addition to the “lower limbs”, the motor was equipped with an arrangement for “inhalation and respiration.” A large flywheel gave the motor a professional appearance. This, however, was only a working model; the final version would be much bigger and cost 10 times as much.



The metal body was then lightly charged with an electrical machine resulting in a “slight pulsatory and vibratory motion observed in the pendants around the periphery of the table”. Following this treatment, the Engine was exposed to carefully-selected individuals of both sexes, who were brought into its presence one at a time in order to raise the level of its vibrations.



Then Spear encased himself in an elaborate construction of metal plates, strips and gemstones and was brought into gradual contact with the machine. For one hour he went into a deep trance which left him exhausted and, according to a clairvoyant who was present, created “a stream of light, a sort of umbilicum” that linked him and the machine.



It was at this time that the New Mary began exhibiting symptoms of pregnancy. The spirits instructed her to appear at High Rock on 29 June 1854 for the final stage of the experiment. On the appointed day, she arrived and lay on the floor in front of the engine for two hours, experiencing labour pains. When they ended she rose from the floor, touched the machine and it showed signs of… something. Precisely what happened is not clear; Spear claimed that for a few seconds the machine was animate.



The machine’s movements remained feeble, but this was attributed to the “electrical infant” being a newborn; the New Mary began providing it with maternal attention while it gained strength. It’s hard to imagine what this involved. Despite the headlines, visitors to High Rock were unimpressed. JH Robinson – in a letter to the Spiritual Telegraph – pointed out that the New Messiah could not even turn a coffee-mill; despite claims of success, A.E. Newton admitted there was never more than a slight movement detected in some of the hanging metal balls.



The Electricizers suggested that a change of air would provide the machine with a more nourishing environment – so the Messiah was dismantled and moved to Randolph, New York, where “it might have the advantage of that lofty electrical position.” In Randolph, it was put into a temporary shed, but a mob broke in, trampled the machine, tore it apart, and scattered the pieces.



Nothing of it survived.



Pimp My Crab



Oh yeah. They went there. I get the picture of a Horseshoe Crab scuttling along the sea-floor with a blue neon light shining under it. Diseased.

The Baby Jesus Butt-plug

Oh yeah! This is exactly what it looks like. It's a butt-plug in the shape of baby Jesus. Christianity has been, is and will be the most successful corporation of all time, it was only a matter of time before they went into exploiting sex.

Jesus Lives (in your ass).

Back to the USSR











In the lovely, lovely time of the Cold War and the Iron Curtain, the authoritarian regimes of the USSR banned the import of records from the West. Jazz and Rock n' Roll were considered as corruptive capitalist influences. Whatever. The people wanted music, the people got music. Certain ingenious rockers in practically every country on their side of the Iron Curtain spoke louder than words when they started printing records on discarded x-ray plates. These records wore out more easily but were also cheaper and there was practically no way to control their circulation. Thus our rocking brethren in the East said a loud "Fuck You!" to their oppressors. How's that for sticking it to the man?