Time once again for the monthly Whackjob Express to Fruitcake Central. Oh boy. Lessons I continue to learn: never expect anything sane out of search terms leading people to a blog that speaks of fringe therapies and antiscientific loonery. And, of course, willies. The juxtaposition in the list (3 hits each) of guy whipping penis out and hand potentising has me reaching for the homeopathic mind bleach.
Ah yes, homeopathy. A rich and unrelenting source of prime WTF.
A worried mark writes: what if you hv homeopathic provings due to wrong remedy. To which I helpfully reply: fear not, for ’tis all a consignment of ancient shoemakers anyway – Have I Got Loons For You: Homeopathic proving. Another hopefully scans the blog for homeo for head stuck, which conjures up images of someone trying to surf the Net with a saucepan jammed over his ears. There are other weird and wonderful sugar pill-related terms, but positron homeopathy is by far and away my favourite. I look forward one day to reading the hilariously contorted and unscientific explanation of how they manage to get antimatter into their tinctures. I’m sure John “Raving Loony” Benneth has penned or will soon provide a misspelt, incoherent rant on the subject.
Another recurring theme is cancer quack Stanislaw Burzynski, also known as the piss doctor and serve him right. There are several variants on this, as well as a number of people who’d like to see him in a face-off with another dangerous cancer vampire: Gerson, of the coffee-up-your-arse “cure”. I suggest Jim Humble should referee the match, to be held on Titan. Terra would be a cleaner, better place.
What next? Reiki? If you insist. Although I have a sneaking suspicion reiki hand positions stress relief is just another form of hand potentising, other questions also arise, such as: what is the big cupped position in reiki attunement and does it constitute some form of sexual harassment even if your cup size isn’t that big? Could it be a form of dark reiki? Which logically is as likely to exist as the airy-fairy, neohippy “healing” version and one day the homeopaths will bottle it.
Here’s a new one. We haven’t had aromatherapy before, although legal statements for essential oils and essences simply translates as “Quack Miranda Warning”. Also, I am far from convinced it’s possible to achieve getting high off aroma therapy oils.
I keep staring at that last sentence. So much WTF even I am at a loss for snark. It’s on a par with using cat litter for detox bath which, may I remind you, actually exists. I also look askance at are these essential oils blood videos real, which sounds like some low-budget, badly acted amateur horror flick.
Perhaps I should move on to the teapottery:
- angel teapot – probably for a reiki-infused cuppa
- lip service teapot – um, what?
- teapot of man with boner – aaaand I think we should stop there
*scrubs furiously with mind bleach*
A more whimsical vision is evoked by dollop of autism. No, I don’t know what it means and I suspect the searcher didn’t either.
The next one isn’t really strange; I just like the phrasing: is being litigious illegal. I think this person was looking for information on SLAPP lawsuits, for which they need someone like Popehat or Jack of Kent.
This one is strange: how to see your own ear. I can only assume the answer “Use a fucking mirror” was deemed insufficient, but what amazing feat was this person hoping to achieve, and why?
Angels! All over the damn place, to the extent that your eyes begin to water from the instinctive urge to not blink at any cost. This hopeful seeks angel glow energy, another dreams of angel encounters 2012 (is there some sort of World Tour on? Where do you buy tickets and is it true Raphael has taken over from Metatron on vocals?). A third yearns for images of real spirit guides, which they’re about as likely to find as pictures of…. Good grief, nude Matt Bellamy again. This has got to stop. There are other talented musicians in the world besides this short, skinny item with a big, pink guitar. How about Grace Jones? With a hula hoop?
It occurs to me that this makes for a somewhat disquieting segue into the final search term, but if it gives us all nightmares, so be it. Somebody actually felt this question needed to be asked:
is it weird to have a spiky vagina
I’ll be in the bar, nursing a glass of something lethal. See you next month.