It’s hard to believe that another summer’s almost over. It won’t be long before the dreaded holiday season is bearing down upon us like Bill Cosby in a rutting reindeer sweater once again. After all, there are only 126 shopping days left until Christmas. Can you believe it? With that ominous deadline looming large on the horizon, what rational person has the time to think straight, much less participate in the crass commercialization of that most holy of days—Black Friday—by getting all of the family handgun Christmas shopping squared away before Santa’s annual home invasion drill down the chimney?  Maybe it’s time to take a deep breath, wash a Xanax down with some of last year’s slightly expired eggnog, and think upon simpler times. More Pagan times.

An Etsy shop doing cosplay the hard way, Chaos Costumes, features a line of hooved leggings suitable for your next Pagan holiday celebration.
 

 
Shop owner, Blair Ondria, specializes in designing, fabricating, and selling a line of very unusual “custom fantasy costumes and accessories.” Most of her designs are based on creatures with hooves—from horses to fauns, creatures both real and mythical, creatures with both cloven and non-cloven hooves. In fact, the only creature with cloven hooves whose costume they don’t seem to stock is Donald Trump.

Bear in mind that the holiday season begins with Halloween (or Samhain) —and that’s only two-and-a-half months away— so get cracking if you’re looking to receive your faun hooves in time to frolic in a glen (or whatever) on October 31st.  Just add horns, a tail, and a pan flute, and you’re either a satyr dreaming of nymphs, or a hirsute Zamfir ready to serenade his flock.

Halloween out of the way, we have to deal with the agony of a traditional family Thanksgiving. I suggest you score a pair of these werewolf stilts, brandish a turkey drumstick in one hand and a flagon of mead in the other, and attend your own private Bacchanalia until the alcohol and tryptophan kick in to put you out of your misery. With any luck, the synergistic effect will allow you to sleep until December 5th.
 

Or perhaps line the family up for the traditional holiday Osculum Infame.
 
December 5th (or 6th, depending on your ancestry) is Krampusnacht, on the eve of the feast of Saint Nicholas. In Alpine folklore, Saint Nicholas, who rewards good children, has an evil, devilish counterpart called Krampus , who appears on Krampusnacht to punish the children who have misbehaved. This antithesis of Saint Nicholas is a hairy beast with cloven hooves and the horns of a goat. Needless to say, a pair of cloven-hooved leggings are tailor-made for creating a Krampus costume to wear on Krampusnacht while running wild in the streets, whipping townfolk with branches, and stuffing children into gunny sacks.
 

“A tisket, a tasket, stuff this brat into a basket.”
 
Continues after the jump…

Anti-smoking advertisement, Finland
 
With all due respect to those who struggle with nicotine addiction (especially my good pal, the “indestructible” Lemmy Kilmister), these anti-smoking advertisements make me wish I never smoked for the week or so that I did back when I was fifteen.
 

Hi, Hitler! Anti-smoking advertisement, India
 
Unless you don’t watch television or read print media (which is of course plausible), then you may not be aware of how much anti-smoking crusaders have stepped up their campaign to raise awareness of the dangers of smoking, and to help people quit. Television ads featuring graphic testimonies and images of former smokers that have lost limbs, lips and teeth thanks to their habit are now commonplace. It’s no longer legal to smoke in clubs or bars in many places in the U.S. and starting on October 1st of this year, it will no longer be legal to smoke in your car in England or Wales if a child (or anyone under 18) is present.
 

Anti-smoking advertisement, UK
 
For people that treat the world as their ashtray, while I sympathise with your plight (I’ve watched friends go through withdrawals trying to quit - it’s not pretty), I will never understand the lack of respect or empathy most smokers seem have when it comes to the environment, or deciding to light up by a public doorway, a playground full of kids, or at the damn beach. It is not my goal with this post to be judge-y of smokers. I’ll just leave you with fact that smoking is a real fucking, life sucking drag. On us all. Thought provoking NSFW images that will hopefully help you quit, follow.
 

Brazil
 
More after the jump…

 
Transposing minor key songs into a major key (or vice versa) has become a thing on the internet in the past couple of years—a process that has been made rather easy with the advent of pitch-correction software. The results are often astounding. Some popular recent examples that have gone viral are REM’s “Losing My Religion” and Metallica’s “Nothing Else Matters,” both reworked into a major key. These minor-to-major reworks often give the songs a “triumphant” quality. A good example of this is this reworking of Europe’s “The Final Countdown”—already pretty “triumphant” as it was—now it sounds like a goddamn national anthem.

Musician, writer, and amateur filmmaker Ian Gordon has recently reworked a handful of iconic horror themes into a major key. The results, for the most part, turn creepy dread into pleasant elevator music. YouTube user Muted Vocal has uploaded a selection of five of these reworked themes: The X-Files, Halloween, A Nightmare on Elm Street, The Exorcist, and Saw. The changes are fascinating:

The X-Files theme played in a major key sounds exactly like Weather Channel “Locals on the 8s” music.

John Carpenter’s iconic Halloween soundtrack now sounds like Vangelis mashing up his Chariot’s of Fire theme with “Baba O’Riley.”

The Saw theme is now the intro music to an imaginary Hugh Grant film.

Mike Oldfield’s “Tubular Bells”—the theme from The Exorcist—now sounds like the wimpy, tinkly breakdown part of a Styx track, right before the “rock part” kicks in.

A Nightmare on Elm Street‘s theme played in a major key is the only one that retains any creep factor whatsoever—and maybe that’s just me, because I think Christmas is creepy. It sounds like the theme to a Hallmark Channel Holiday special.

These are all really great, but the Halloween theme left me wondering… what would the Chariots of Fire theme sound like in a minor key? I bet it’d be scary as hell. Perhaps Mr. Gordon can get on that and let us know?

Enjoy, here, the pleasant sounds of transposed horror:
 

 
via Nightflight, Bloody-Disgusting

 
Manualism, or as we like to call it, “hand farting,” is the use of one’s clasped hands as a musical instrument. By pushing air through the hands, the manualist is able to produce a juicy, flatulent sound. It’s not really difficult for one to make such farty noises by putting his or her hands together, but perfecting tone and pitch in order to make those noises “musical” is a significant challenge.

John Twomey coined the term manualism to describe the art form. Though the technique had been around since at least 1914, according to Cecil Dill, who is widely considered the originator of the practice, Twomey was the first superstar of the craft, having performed “Stars and Stripes Forever” on Johnny Carson’s Tonight Show in 1974.

A couple of years ago we posted about this kid who performed a hypnotic hand-fart cover of Simon and Garfunkel’s “The Sounds of Silence.” While that kid clearly has a bright future ahead of him in the manualism game, he’s an amateur act compared to Gerry Phillips of to Troy, Michigan—as you can see right here:
 

Just call him “Queef Richards.”
 
Phillips, who has spent 45 years perfecting his technique, is a hand-fart virtuoso. His You Tube channel boasts over 150 videos. His most popular video, an unbelievable hand-fart cover of Iron Maiden’s “The Trooper,” has over 3.4 million views. The guy is a hand-fart phenomenon.

Phillips claims to have discovered his talent at the age of nine. In the time since then, he has perfected his technique to such a degree that he can hit notes—in perfect pitch—from baritone to fartsetto (yeah, I said it) with incredible speed and accuracy on a par with the world’s greatest musicians. In fact, Phillips may be too good. He stopped producing new videos four years ago, and a 2011 interview may offer an explanation:

Most songs are repetitive and boring. When I find a song that is technically hard to play and has great lead solo or I just have too many people requesting it, only then will I do it.  I feel I have done just about everything I set out to play. I always thought that when I could play “The Green Hornet Theme” or the full “Fur Elise” that I would be as good as I could get. That is why I haven’t made any new videos lately.

Imagine being so good at something, achieving such heights of accomplishment, that there was no point in continuing with it. Now imagine that thing is hand farting.

Phillips’ videos really are a treat to watch, though—not only for his astounding talent, but also for the ever-present look on his face, which manages the paradoxical combination of the smugness of knowing he’s really fucking good, while at the same time seeming to be humbled by the realization of the butt-trumpeting ridiculousness emitting from his magical hands. If humblesmug is a thing, it can be witnessed on the visage of Gerry Phillips.

The Iron Maiden cover we mentioned is a good starting place to revel in Phillips’ masterful talent, but there are so many more must-see hand-fart renditions on his channel—a channel which is quite remarkable for the musical diversity displayed. It’s so all over the map. I personally recommend his hand-fart covers of Hot Butter’s “Popcorn,”  Jean Michel Jarre’s “Oxygene 4,” The Who’s “Baba O’Riley,” Frank Zappa’s “Peaches En Regalia,” and the Sandford and Son theme song. Phillips is definitely pulling from all over the place in his inspired musical selections—he even does “The Gonk,” that goofball song that plays in the Dawn of the Dead shopping mall (which he performs while dressed as a zombie!).
 

 
Here are some undisputed must-hear classics from Gerry Phillips’ hand-fart hit parade:
 

 
More flatulent grooves after the jump…..
 

 
Julia Graham and her husband were driving past the Rosehill Cemetery on Chicago’s North Side at 10pm when they saw something straight out of a David Lynch film (or else a low-budget straight to VHS 80s clown slasher flick, take your pick, either is equally valid here): A man dressed as a clown running towards the historic graveyard before scaling a 7-foot-tall-gate.

“When we get closer, we realize it’s a clown, which is super weird,” she told CBS Chicago’s investigative reporter Dave Savini:

It got weirder. When Julia and her husband hung around to get a better look, the clown was not deterred or afraid. He waved slowly at the couple. Incidents like this one aren’t isolated. A video of creepy clowns surprising people on the streets of California went viral last year. In New York, a clown was seen making a daytime excursion last year while holding some balloons.

“Oh, that’s super weird,” says Graham, when shown the New York video. “That is like making light of a cemetery.”

Eventually, the clown caught in the headlights of Graham’s car turns around and, without saying a word, takes off into the darkness of the cemetery. “I just think it’s creepy and wrong,” Graham says.

I don’t know if I would like it if something like this happened to me. I’ve pondered it, but could come to no conclusion. Maybe under the right circumstance and with the right person. A person who is armed, perhaps…

In any case, what did this guy achieve with this “activity”? Maybe it’s his kink? An art prank? He just always dresses like this or is a professional party clown and cutting through the cemetery is his shortcut home from work? None of the above? Who knows? And who can say besides the creepy clown guy himself? Creepy slow-waving Chicago clown guy, if you are reading this, please leave us some clues as to your “motivation” for this in the comments. Thank you in advance!
 

 
Etsy offers some truly fascinating options in the way of DIY religious paraphernalia; whether it’s chintzy Wiccan charms or chic, modern crucifixes, there are niche articles of worship for nearly every strain of spirituality. Then there is Etsy seller Zoe Jordan of Tel Aviv, Israel, whose store BeanSproutLadyJew offers handmade “Vagina Kippahs,” knitted yarmulkes of a graphically vulvar nature. Obviously, these little Semitic statement pieces are intended for the more liberal observer of Judaism.

These unique and meticulously handmade kippahs (kippot / ki-pot) are the perfect gift for the ladies in your life. Ideal for Bat Mitzvahs, Lesbian Weddings, Lady Rabbis, Feminists of the chosen variety, Midwives, Doulas and Renewalists. Also great for any-gendered and any-affiliated folks who appreciate a cheeky traditional-non-traditional way to acknowledge and REMEMBER WHERE YOU CAME FROM. It’s kind of like a high-five and a wink at your creator.

These kippot (למה? כי פות) are inspired by the fact that typically kippahs sit on the crown of the head, in the exact spot that (typically) the baby’s head first enters the world in birth. They are not intended to be irreverent but rather to embrace the wholeness and transcendent power of life.

Ok, ok, but what if you don’t see a vulva that resembles your own? Don’t worry, she takes custom orders!

Examples shown are from the birth set (of increasing dilation) but non-birth oriented kippahs are in the works as well. Kippahs can be custom-ordered and modified with regard to colour palette, anatomy, grooming particularities, size, and if you think of other variations, feel free to discuss with me.

Now I am all for more terrifying vaginal art, but doesn’t the more . . . dilated of the options defeat the purpose of the kippah, which is intended to cover the head in reverence to the creator? And far be it from me to question gynocentric interpretations of religious garb, but I just prefer my fashion—whether religious or secular—without an anus. But you go, Zoe Jordan; you have created a truly . . . unique product!
 

 

 

 

 
One of the most crucial and influential gangsta rap acts since the late ‘80s, Houston Texas’ Geto Boys have always played by their own rules, never selling out, always on that “other level of the game.” Still “not kissin’ no goddamn ass to be accepted” in 2015, it’s been a busy year for the three members of the most famous line-up of the group, Willie D, Scarface, and Bushwick Bill.
 

Left to right: Willie D, Scarface, Bushwick Bill
 
Scarface just released an autobiography, Diary of a Madman: The Geto Boys, Life, Death, and the Roots of Southern Rap, Willie D has been writing an advice column for Houston Press, and Bushwick Bill has recently teamed back up with them both for a full US tour. Earlier this week, the Geto Boys announced plans to record a new album.

It’s general Dangerous Minds policy to avoid reporting on Kickstarters, but it’s worth noting that among the “rewards” being offered by the Geto Boys for donating to the recording costs of their new album are: a night of barhopping with Bushwick Bill, a round of golf with Scarface, or—if you have the big bucks—a custom-designed Geto Boys coffin. 
 

 
I’ve been a fan of the Geto Boys since the release of their transgressive Grip It on That Other Level album. My personal discovery of the Geto Boys came about as a result of already being a huge fan of Willie D’s 1989 solo Rap-a-lot Records recording, Controversy. I’m not entirely certain why Controversy came to be one of my favorite rap releases—or quite possibly—ACTUALLY MY FAVORITE RAP ALBUM EVER. There’s certainly better-produced and more thoughtfully-written albums out there for sure. I guess it was one of those time and place events. Willie D had a surprising number of unexpected fans in the punk scene I came up in. It may have been a combination of the overall envelope-pushing filthiness of the lyrics and the stripped-down DIY-sounding production, or the seemless blending of the politics of groups like Public Enemy, the gangsterism of groups like NWA and the sheer sexual nastiness of groups like 2 Live Crew. Somehow the mixed bag works—or at least it worked for me in 1989. Never released on vinyl, except for a DJ twelve inch sampler of some tracks (if you have one to sell, get at me!), I’ve worn through three copies of the original cassette on Rap-a-lot.
 

The album on which Mr. D proposes a bill to Capitol Hill to kill all bald-headed women at will.
 
So it came to be one of the more memorable nights of my life when, a week ago, I FINALLY got to see Willie D and the Geto Boys live on stage—and being right up front, singing along (with most of the audience), at some point I yelled out “Whatcha see D?” and Willie D looked down. The DJ cued up the “Dragnet” intro music and I yelled “y’all thought this was Dragnet, didn’t ya! Wrong answer again!” And then, unbelievably, the “Underground Master” himself pulled me up on stage to sing “Bald Headed Hoes” (Controversy‘s most notorious cut) with him. Luckily those lyrics are branded upon my brain and came out effortlessly, because the whole time I was onstage with the Geto Boys I was thinking “how the fuck is this happening?!”

But even without that, it would have still been an unforgettable night, because the Geto Boys were ON FIRE. Their current live show is a “don’t miss” event, and I can attest from the personal interactions I witnessed, that the Geto Boys care deeply about their fans. I would never suggest that the Geto Boys, now certainly Geto Men, have mellowed with age, but the three “ghetto soldiers” appear remarkably more thoughtful, dare I say, sagelike in 2015. I can’t say if the hardest out, trigger-happy, motherfuckin’ Geto Boys are still looking to win Fifth Ward murder contests, but they’re definitely still willing to cuss their asses off for your daughters and sons. If you have an opportunity to see them on this tour, don’t sleep.

Although Willie D states (jokingly?) in a recent Rolling Stone interview, “We fuckin’ hate each other, man. It’s like, ‘Motherfucker, I don’t even wanna be onstage with you. Can we put up three stages, man? I’ll sing my verse, you sing your verse,’” there didn’t seem to be a bit of animosity between him or Scarface or Bushwick onstage. They appeared to be having a blast with each other. Bushwick Bill went all-in, destroying a printer with a baseball bat, in homage to the infamous Office Space printer massacre scene (which features the Geto Boys song “Still”).
 

Bushwick Bill, pictured here after being shot in the eye by his girlfriend in the Summer of 1991. The group took this rare opportunity to take publicity photos, using one image from the hospital photo shoot for the cover of their 1991 album “We Can’t Be Stopped.”
 
The most “what the fuck” moment of the show, however, came from the “Mastermind of Wreckin’ Shit,” Scarface, who—out of nowhere—suddenly decided it was time to bust into the theme from All in the Family. Thankfully a quick-thinking audience member with a handy cellphone was able to capture (at least the last part of) this baffling moment. At the end of the clip you even hear Willie D actually say “what the fuck?!”
 

“When goils were goils and men was men.”
 
Scarface has a history of breaking with the conventions of his hardcore gangsta rap image. As well as being an avid golfer, his Facebook page often features uploaded videos of himself playing soft-rock jams like “Hotel California” and “Landslide” on acoustic guitar.

Still, we’re filing this one under “weird shit we never thought we’d see at a Geto Boys concert,” or better yet, under “playing by their own rules, never selling out, and always being on that ‘other level of the game.’”

Here’s the Geto Boys taking it to that other level and doing Archie and Edith Bunker like a G.O.:
 

 
H/T Instagram user juxtaposedjs

 
Really, people? THIS is what you want? Bite-sized “pigs in blankets” pizza crust? Apparently so, because Pizza Hut just confirmed their Hot Dog Bites Pizza will be available in North America starting on June 18 and “while supplies last.” Their already puke-worthy hot dog pizza crust—introduced in the the UK and Canada back in 2013—has been such a success that Pizza Hut now wants to inflict their artery-clogging mess on Americans.

“The large one-topping pizza, featuring 28 premium hot dog bites baked into the crust, is served with a side of French’s mustard for $11.99,” Pizza Hut said in a news release.

Honestly, I have no words (although “uncivilized” easily came to mind). Just look at that heaping dose of gross in all its greasy glory and decide for yourself.

I don’t feel like I’m giving Pizza Hut free advertising, either. Hopefully none of our readers would be stupid enough to put this shit in their bodies… Right?

 
Via Today and Business Insider

“Don’t shoot!”
 
R&B singer, Joe Tex, best known for his hits “Skinny Legs And All” and “Ain’t Gonna Bump No More (With No Big Fat Woman)” had a bitter rivalry with James Brown that went beyond simple diss tracks. At one point the feud became so heated that James Brown attempted to murder Tex with a shotgun, reportedly wounding six or seven people in the process.

The rivalry dates back to the early days of their careers, according to Joe Tex’s Wikipedia page:

The feud between Tex and fellow labelmate James Brown took its origins allegedly sometime in the mid-1950s when both artists were signed to associated imprints of King Records when Brown allegedly called out on Tex for a “battle” during a dance at a local juke joint. In 1960, Tex left King and recorded a few songs for Detroit-based Anna Records, one of the songs he recorded was the ballad “Baby, You’re Right”. A year later, Brown recorded the song and released it in 1961, changing up the lyrics and the musical composition, earning Brown co-songwriting credits along with Tex.

It had to have stung having your song usurped, with a songwriting credit added, and watching it become a bigger hit than your single.
 

 
Brown fueled the fire by hooking up and recording with Tex’s ex-wife. James Brown was kind of a dick:

By then, Brown had recruited singer Bea Ford, who had been married to Tex prior, but had divorced in 1959. In 1960, Brown and Ford recorded the song, “You’ve Got the Power”. Shortly afterwards, Tex got a personal letter from Brown telling him that he was through with Ford and if Tex wanted her back, he could have her. Tex responded by recording the diss record, “You Keep Her”, where he called Brown’s name out.

“James I got your letter, it came to me today. You said I could have my baby back, but I don’t want her that way.”
 
Things soon came to a head at a 1963 gig in Macon, Georgia when Joe Tex aped Brown’s cape act.

Find out what happened next after the jump…

 
If you’re squeamish—then look away now…

During the annual Urs Festival in India some Sufi Muslim holy men of the Chisti order show their devotion by sticking knives in eyes….Okay.

Thousands of devotees attend the six-day festival Amjer in Rajasthan commemorating the death, some 800 years ago, of Sufi saint Moinuddin Chishti, the founder of the Chisti order of Sufism. Apart form stabbing themselves in the eyes, these Sufi Muslim holy men also self-flagellate, drive spikes into their backs, pierce their cheeks with knives and skewers and take part in a 75 mile walk to a shrine in Bhadiyad, ending with an all-night (dhikr/zikr qawwali) singalong with other (presumably similarly maimed) worshipers.
 

 
Sufism differs from other forms of Islam with congregations formed around a grand master (Mawla) who are claimed to maintain “a direct chain of teachers back to the Prophet Muhammad.” Sufis consider themselves to be “the original true proponents of this pure original form of Islam.” The eyeball stabbing and the self-torture form part of the strict self-discipline Sufis consider evidence of their devotion. I wonder what they do for an encore?

And now here’s the usual caveat: This video contains images some may find distressing. Yep.
 

 
H/T Metro