January 2012

Whole Body Transplant Monsters

"Can renegade surgeons transplant your brain while you sleep? The frightening truth, next on Sick, Sad World."

In “The Master Mind of Mars” by Edgar Rice Burroughs, a Martian scientist takes the brains of the wealthy Martians and transplants them into healthy young bodies so they can effectively live forever. This was some pretty far-fetched science fiction at the time, but apparently modern scientists are starting to think they could really pull this off. Just imagine the world that would result from that development.

The Horror of the Oceans

"Are fish using our oceans as their own private toilet? A Sick, Sad World exclusive, right after this."

It's pretty awful when you think about it. You step into the ocean, and not only do you have to worry about all those fathoms of cold, heartless darkness (every fathom of which is literally swarming with hungry sharks, half-drunk on the blood of the innocent yet yearning for more), you also have to ask yourself a simple yet terrifying question. What percentage of the ocean is actually water, and what percentage is fish urine?

Neo-Natal Skinheads?

"Neo-natal skinheads, next on Sick, Sad World."

“Skinhead,” in the popular mind, refers to Neo-Nazi hooligans, who shave all their hair off before going out to beat up gay people or ethnic minorities while listening to “white power” music. It would probably surprise most people to know that the skinhead movement began in the late sixties among working-class British youth interested in Jamaican ska music, and that what skinhead is really about is working class pride. To this day, many skinheads are not racists at all, and some of them are even anti-racist streetfighters who battle the racist skinheads whenever they get the chance.

Mopey Millionaire Madness

"Malibu's Mopiest Millionaire, next on Sick, Sad World."


If there's one thing that really makes a millionaire mopey, it's having to hand the unwashed masses any access to his beach-front property. It's against the law for anyone to own the beach in some countries, but that would be too socialist for most Americans. So Malibu millionaires, Bimini billionaires, or the oligarchic owners of any other piece of prime beach-front property can do everything within their potentially petrifying power to keep the peasants, peons and hoi palloi from so much as hopping across their little pieces of paradise.

Guano Mountain

"Guano see some gutsy climbing? Scaling the world's tallest pile of seagull droppings, next on Sick, Sad World."

You might be under the impression that guano is strictly bat-droppings, but if you think that, you're wrong. In fact, you're so wrong that I can only conclude you know nothing of the Quichua language- quel horreur, n'est ce pas?- because “guano” is actually the Quichua word for “sea bird droppings.” Now tell me this. How do you really expect to get anywhere in the guano business if you didn't know a little thing like that?