Back in Jan 2009, I posted a video showing the decomposition of a pig. Here's a similar video, also showing the decomposition of a pig, but underwater this time. It was an experiment conducted in Feb 2012. The pig was in a cage to stop sharks from getting to it. Watch to the end to see the surprise visitor.
I never knew how roadkill was disposed of. Turns out that in Maryland the state turns roadkill — particularly deer roadkill — into compost that's scattered by the side of the road. The process: the carcasses are taken to a "deer composting facility" where the bodies are loaded into large wooden bins. Horse manure and wood chips are piled on top. Every week the stuff in the bins is aerated and more manure and wood chips are added. Three months later, it's all moved into the open for curing. The end result is deer compost, which is scattered by the side of the road, helping to grow grass and plants that the living deer eat, until they get hit by a passing car, and the cycle is complete. [washington post]
This photo, with the accompanying caption, ran in papers back in July 1952.
Self-Portrait of a Suicide
A love of photography and a dislike of mice caused a London photographer to rig this trap that caused a mouse to take his own picture and his life at the same time. The trap was wired to the camera so that tripping of the trap mechanism also tripped the camera shutter. The killing spring is about to come down on the neck of the rodent here as its first nibble at the cheese sprung the trap.
Even before a certain blade-wielding comicbook character pre-empted the name of "Wolverine," could it possibly have been a good idea to name your product after a vicious, pint-sized killer beast?
"Wolverine Soap--it will rip the dirt off your skin, and your skin with it!"
No wonder the pitchman in the ad below is working so hard to find sales reps.
Newspapers are reporting that a woman in Thailand committed suicide by jumping into the crocodile pit at the Samut Prakarn crocodile farm outside Bangkok. [Daily Mail, ibtimes] This form of death, horrifying as it might be, is one of those things that Chuck would classify as 'no longer weird' because a quick search reveals that people feed themselves to crocodiles on a pretty regular basis:
1990: A woman climbed the fence at the same crocodile farm, Samut Prakarn, and was swarmed by crocs as hundreds of tourists watched in horror. [LA Times]
1994: Following the death of President Felix Houphouet-Boigny of the Ivory Coast, a man declared that without the president life wasn't worth living and jumped into the crocodile-infested moat outside the presidential palace in Yamoussoukro. Crowds watched for two days as the crocs chewed on his body. [Glasgow Herald]
2002: Again at Thailand's Samut Prakarn croc farm, a depressed woman waded into the crocodile pit. A spectator later said, "The moment the crocodile grabbed her body, she even hugged onto him. It was horrifying." [The Nation]
2011: A South-African farm worker, depressed after a fight with his lover, waded into the crocodile-infested Lepelle river. No one saw him actually being eaten, but someone later reported seeing a human leg dangling out of a crocodile's mouth. [Daily Mail]
Based on these reports, it sounds like it can take up to 20 or 30 minutes before the crocodiles actually kill you. So it's not a particularly quick form of suicide. Also, I'm not sure if it would be blood loss or drowning that would finally kill you -- or perhaps a combination of both!
The Reverend Kayser sounds like a real piece of work. German propagandist, adulterer, real-estate conman, and possible saboteur. A man accumulates a lot of possible murderers with that resume.
Bonus points for being named "Kayser" during World War I.
I hadn't heard the story about Errol Flynn's genital warts until I came across it in The Dependent Magazine. They found it, in turn, from How Come I'm Dead, the 1985 autobiography of Vancouver coroner Glen McDonald.
Glen McGregor reports on his blog that he's seen a copy of Flynn's 1959 autopsy in which it's noted that Flynn did suffer from human papillomavirus, aka genital warts. But the story about his warts being cut off as souvenirs isn't included in the report. So it's not clear how much truth there is to the tale. We'll just have to take McDonald's word for it.
The autopsy concludes that the movie star's death was due to a number of factors associated with his flamboyant lifestyle, including heart disease, diverticulosis, and cirrhosis of the liver. However, during the final moments of the examination, MacDonald and Chief Pathologist Tom Harmon make another interesting discovery: a number of sizeable venereal warts on the end of Flynn's penis.
"Tom seemed fascinated," MacDonald will recall, "[and said] 'Look, I'm going to be lecturing at the Institute of Pathology and I just thought it might be of interest if I could remove these things and fix them in formaldehyde and use them as a visual aid.' 'No way!' I said. 'We're not going to do that. I don't want anything done that isn't relevant to the case because we're really in the limelight tonight. We're on the hot seat. How can we send Mr. Flynn back to his wife with part of his bloody endowment missing?'
However, when McDonald returns to the obervation room after a brief absence, he discovers that the venereal warts have disappeared.
"The first thing I noticed was that the VD warts had gone – vanished from the end of Mr. Flynn's penis," McDonald will continue. "Then I spotted a jar of formaldehyde on a shelf that looked suspiciously like it might contain VD warts. It did[...] I sighed and asked the Doc, 'Did you have to remove those bloody warts … Did Errol Flynn expire because he had warts on his dong?' Tom looked sheepish but we were both laughing at the utter silliness of the whole thing. 'Put them back,' I said, 'Right now!' Maybe the Doc had never seen warts of that enormity. Maybe he wanted a souvenir. I never did figure out why the temptation had been too great … So the bloody warts were fished out of the formaldehyde jar and, using the good offices of scotch tape, Doc Harmon and I stuck them back where they belonged. Everything was back to normal. And I was relieved to learn later, talking with the Chief Coroner in Los Angeles, that a further autopsy was performed and the results concurred in every respect with what we had found. The scotch tape was never mentioned."
The Nelms Memorial Funeral Home forgot to embalm the body of Norman Holman. So when everyone showed up for his open-casket memorial service, they found him rotting in the casket. Adding insult to injury, the air conditioning chose that time to quit working, thereby accelerating the process of decomposition. According to the attorney of Holman's family, "There was dirt underneath his fingernails and people were dry heaving and gagging there at the church." Link waaytv.com
Posted By: Alex - Tue Jul 24, 2012 -
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Category: Death
Paul Di Filippo
Paul has been paid to put weird ideas into fictional form for over thirty years, in his career as a noted science fiction writer. He has recently begun blogging on many curious topics with three fellow writers at The Inferior 4+1.