Tag: Strychnine

Day 992: The John Wilkes Booth World Tour

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When John Wilkes Booth was crouching in Richard H. Garrett’s tobacco barn, listening to Lieutenant Colonel Everton Conger’s orders to surrender, he decided to go out with a bang. He refused the surrender, then once the barn was lit on fire he took a bullet to the neck, delivered by Sergeant Boston Corbett. He was dead by the break of dawn, less than two weeks after he had prematurely terminated the presidency of Abraham Lincoln in Ford’s Theatre.

Or was he?

Way out in the sprawling suburbs of historical perception there exists the notion that the man whose life was snuffed to a nub in that barn was actually a man named James William Boyd, a Confederate soldier who looked enough like Booth that his body passed through ten pairs of identifying eyes (not counting the pair that aimed the gun that took his life), as well as an official autopsy. The composers of this theory also posit that the government knew about the mix-up and let it happen. Because where is the fun in a murder without a deep and sinister government conspiracy?

As for the “real” John Wilkes Booth… well, on the off-chance that this is all true, we can say with a relative certainty that Booth was, in fact, this guy:

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One day in 1873, some eight years after the furor over the Lincoln assassination had been pressed between the leaves of history, Memphis lawyer Finis L. Bates met and befriended a liquor and tobacco merchant named John St. Helen. It’s good to get to know the man who sells you booze and smokes, and Bates was particularly taken by John’s ability to spout Shakespeare from memory. The two became good friends outside the seller-consumer relationship.

Five years later, John St. Helen was on what he believed to be his deathbed, profoundly ill. He confided in Finis Bates that he was in fact John Wilkes Booth. He asked Finis to advise his brother, Edwin Booth, of his demise. Then he recovered. Read more…

Day 717: The Dope On Dope (And On Dopes Who Dope About Dope)

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We here at 1000-Word Industries would never advocate the use of illegal drugs as a recreational pastime. We all know that marijuana is the gateway drug that leads 97.4% of its users to harder drugs like bath salts and ostrich-adrenaline. It has been well documented that so-called “magic” mushrooms are nothing more than regular supermarket mushrooms laced with strychnine and that dark evil stuff that makes people explode in the movie Time Bandits. And that drug the kids call ‘ecstasy’ is simply PCP mixed with Ovaltine, sold in a cute Hello Kitty pill.

We’ve done our homework. We know the facts. That’s why the only intoxicants we imbibe are cooking sherry and inhaling the hearty musk of strangers on the bus.

A number of notable misconceptions about illegal drugs are steering kids down dangerous alleys. We feel it is our duty to debunk that which schoolyard gossip and youthful idiocy continues to bunk. The absence of truth is perhaps the most dangerous drug of all. Well, except meth. That shit will destroy you.

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Dating back to the late 1970’s, giggling pranksters have spread terror and paranoia (or, ‘terranoia’) among parents with the distribution of flyers that warned of temporary tattoos that were being distributed to children, often in the shape of a blue star, but sometimes with characters kids might want to slap on their skin like Superman or Mickey Mouse. These tattoos are laced with LSD in an attempt to get kids hooked on the drug. LSD! The children! Terranoia! Read more…