Numbers stations (click here to listen to a sample) are shortwave radio stations that broadcast weird-ass strings of numbers, voices, and other randomly generated effluvia. Messages from aliens? Spies? Sock gnomes? The dinosaur-men who live in the center of the Hollow Earth…? None may know…

Numbers stations (or number stations) are shortwave radio stations of uncertain origin. They generally broadcast artificially generated voices reading streams of numbers, words, letters (sometimes using a spelling alphabet), tunes or Morse code. They are in a wide variety of languages and the voices are usually female, though sometimes male or children’s voices are used.

Evidence supports popular assumptions that the broadcasts are used to send messages to spies. This usage has not been publicly acknowledged by any government that may operate a numbers station, but in 2001, the United States tried the Cuban Five for spying for Cuba. The group had received and decoded messages that had been broadcast from a Cuban numbers station. Also in 2001, Ana Belen Montes, a senior US Defense Intelligence Agency analyst, was arrested and charged with espionage. The federal prosecutors stated: “Montes communicated with the Cuban Intelligence Service through encrypted messages and received her instructions through encrypted shortwave transmissions from Cuba”. In 2006, Carlos Alvarez and his wife Elsa Alvarez were arrested and charged with espionage. The U.S. District Court Florida stated: “defendants would receive assignments via shortwave radio transmissions”. In June 2009, the United States similarly charged Walter Kendall Myers with conspiracy to spy for Cuba and receiving and decoding messages broadcast from a numbers station operated by the Cuban Intelligence Service to further that conspiracy.

It has been reported that the United States uses numbers stations to communicate encoded information to persons in other countries. Numbers stations appear and disappear over time (although some follow regular schedules), and their overall activity has increased slightly since the early 1990s. This increase suggests that, as spy-related phenomena, they were not unique to the Cold War.

(Wiki: Numbers stations)

(The Conet Project: Numbers Stations 4-CD Compilation)

 

 

 
I may be late to the ManBabies.com craze, but I sure had a good laugh at a few of these images. Kinda sums it all up, huh?
 
(via HuffPost)

 
Or one final screwing before you go completely.  A new U.S. patent was granted yesterday for the above “Easy Inter Burial Container.”  According to the patent application for the EIBC, the reasons for such a vessel are three-fold: space, time, and cash are all at a premium.

This invention relates to conserving land area and easy to install burial containers which can be pressed, agitated, screwed, self bored or by other means set into earth or other receiving materials and do not require a large amount of land area or a large pre-dug rectangular hole with subsequent refilling after the placement of the burial container.

(via Neatorama)

 
(via Arbroath)

 
I read about the beta-launch of something called Chatroulette this morning on a German blog I frequent called Nerdcore and something tells me this thing is gonna be HUGE. As in huge, huge. Facebook huge.

First off, it’s super easy to use—hit the “start” button, and you’re off. The people you’ll meet are from all over the world and Chatroulette works in real time (like Skype) and there’s audio, too.

What makes this thing so exciting/addicting/cringeworthy all at the same time is easy to summarize: You never know WHO you’re going to get when you click that button. My friend and I tested it out today. Our first interaction was with a male in his mid-20s. He said he was from China. Fifth go around we got the Jonas Brothers. No shit, it was the real Jonas Brothers. “Are you guys the Jonas Brothers?” They said they were in New Jersey. It looked like they were in an airport.  There was a lot of starring and smiling going on. They asked if I was a fan of theirs. I said nothing. Awkward moment. Screen went black, we lost contact.

But seriously, there is lots of WEIRD shit going on here. Lonely guys jacking off in front of their computers, couples having sex and waving at you, monster mask pole dancing, obese women masturbating, lesbian orgies, guys eating pizza watching football, folks wearing clown masks, wholesome families waving at you, people smoking joints, teenagers yelling “show me your tits!’... it’s endless.  I was truly shocked by what I was seeing, but that’s not to say we weren’t laughing so hard we were crying for several hours.  Aside from teen pop star siblings—I mean, what are the chances?—we also encountered a hillbilly mom and her son who looked at us on her screen and murmured “They must be ‘hipsters.’ I’ve heard all about them” as well as a man… and his dog, let’s just say, and leave it at that…

This isn’t going to end well. Not at all.
 
UPDATE: I was punked! Chat Roulette With The Jonas Brothers
 
If you want to know more about Chatroulette, read The Human Shuffle: Is ChatRoulette the future of the Internet or its distant past?
 
Chatroulette (NSFW)

 
From our very own Los Angeles treasure, food writer Jonathan Gold’s current column in response to a reader’s question: “Is there a food equivalent to a snuff film? “

Dear Ms. W:

Zhou dynasty gourmands enjoyed rat, which they called “household deer.’’ I have heard of a bean, grown in Indonesia, that is so delicious its fanciers are willing to endure the inevitable three days of excruciating liver pain that follows the feast. My friend Ruth was telling me the other day about the strips of jellied water-buffalo skin she enjoyed in Laos, available with or without fur. None of those is available here, although as it turns out I did once try a version of that water-buffalo skin in a long-deceased Little Saigon cafe. There is a place in the Wilshire District that looks a little like the back office of a disorganized accountant really, no tables or cooking smells, where you sit for a while on worn vinyl chairs and are eventually, or possibly, or rumored to be able to be, brought the bosintang you have come there for. Takeout only. Allegedly. And I have heard that lately, it is strictly BYOD. Either way, I have never managed, or even been tempted, to try the goods. Goat stew is an acceptable equivalent.

In Little Tokyo, you once could get braised bear paw, at an absolutely bowel-clenching price, until the Chinese restaurant that served it was shut down. Hamhung in Koreatown once featured a dinner of barbecued tiger, lion, elephant and antelope, all legal oddly enough, until the ‘92 riots and the Japanese recession stanched the flow of rich Tokyoites to that part of town. (Hamhung still does have very good buckwheat noodles with seafood, which you should keep in mind when the weather gets warmer.) Meat smuggling from Europe has been substantially more difficult lately thank you, underwear bomber!  but if you ask around at better cheese stores, you should be able to find the raw-milk cheeses you desire. As for endangered species practically all sea fish seems endangered at the moment, at least in the long run. In season, Urasawa will sell you fugu, the kind that can kill you if it’s indifferently prepared, and charge you as much for it as you paid for your first car. But even in Los Angeles, as far as I know, you will find neither primates, nor human flesh, nor coelacanth. And we’re all better off for it, I think.

 
(via BME)

 
“I put some pressure on it and cut them, to remove them by force.”  To avoid cheating on his sex-refusing wife, Luis Alfonso Sanchez found the decision to castrate himself an “easy” one to make.  And, since he’s already castrated pigs, cats and dogs, what’s three days of healing time?  The stunt sent Sanchez to the hospital where his wounds grew infected.

 
Bonus: Castration Squad’s A Date With Jack (Kennedy)

(via BIOTV)

 
I’m absolutely certain that the tale (below) of Guatemalan orphan, Aury, is a harrowing one.  What’s far less persuasive?  The Christian Broadcast Network‘s decision to translate Aury’s voice using English that’s as chirpy as it is stereotypically choppy!

What’s creepier here, of course, is that the English-speaking “voice” of Aury was most likely that of a professional actor directed to “translate” that way, so as to better play upon the sympathies—and wallets—of the CBN faithful.

 
(via Sociological Images)

 
You’ll never have to fear your cellphone running out of juice again as long as you’re near a 7-Eleven or a vending machine, thanks to brilliant London-based designer Daizi Zheng. But maybe “juice” is the wrong word; Zheng has produced a cellphone that runs on Coca-Cola. Or Mountain Dew or Pepsi or whatever sugary, fizzy beverage you happen to have handy. Yes, you read correctly, this is a cellphone that runs on soda. It’s the call that refreshes!

As Zheng explained to Tree Hugger:

“Through my research, I found that phone battery as a power source, it is expensive, consuming valuable resources on manufacturing, presenting a disposal problem and harmful to the environment. The concept is using bio battery to replace the traditional battery to create a pollution free environment. Bio battery is an ecologically friendly energy generates electricity from carbohydrates (currently sugar) and utilizes enzymes as the catalyst. By using bio battery as the power source of the phone, it only needs a pack of sugary drink and it generates water and oxygen while the battery dies out. Bio battery has the potential to operate three to four times longer on a single charge than conventional lithium batteries and it could be fully biodegradable.”

Three to four times longer than a lithium battery? Sounds good to us. Now all Zheng has to do is come up with a way to run a cellphone on booze, for a sort of unholy cellphone/hip flask hybrid.
 

 
Cross posting this from Brand X