Last year, with the cooperation of Google, two artists and a bunch of helpers turned a little alley in Pittsburgh into "the most interesting street in the world."
An account of the life and death of John Cummings, a man who strove to earn a Darwin Award long before the concept of Darwin Awards existed. Reported in the Chicago Tribune, March 14, 1880:
In the narrative of memorable cases connected with Guy's Hospital there is a curious story of a sailor named John Cummings, who, in a spirit of vulgar brag, and mostly when half intoxicated, swallowed clasp-knives. In 1799 he had seen a French juggler perform the trick of assumedly swallowing knives of that kind at a public entertainment. The feat was so cleverly performed that the spectators -- or at least some of them -- were under the belief that the knives vanished down the throat of the juggler, instead of being put by sleight-of-hand in some part of his dress. The sailor, in his simplicity, was one of the credulous sort, and to astonish his messmates he began to swallow clasp-knives. He at first only swallowed four, which, fortunately for him were expelled, and no inconvenience ensued. He thought no more of knife-swallowing for six years. In March, 1805, when at Boston, he was one day tempted, while drinking with a party of sailors, to boast of his former exploits, and was ready to repeat his performance. A small knife was produced, which he instantly swallowed. In the course of that evening he swallowed five more. The next morning crowds of visitors came to see him, and in the course of the day he was induced to swallow eight knives more, making in all fourteen.
He paid dearly for his frolic; for he was seized with constant vomiting, and pain in the stomach. Taken to a hospital, he was by efficacious medical treatment relieved, as he imagined, of all the knives he had swallowed. But in this he would appear to have been mistaken. Portions of knives undissolved remained in his stomach. The amount of relief, whatever it was, did not cure the poor wretch of his folly. When at Spithead in December, 1805, and somewhat tipsy, he resumed his boastfulness of being able to swallow knives, and to amuse the ship's company swallowed nine clasp-knives, some of them of a large size. Again he became ill, and was in the hands of the ship's surgeon for several months, during which portions of knives were discharged. At length he was admitted as a patient at Guy's Hospital in 1807, and again he came to the hospital in 1808. There he remained, sinking under his sufferings, until March, 1809, when he died in a state of extreme emaciation.
On her resume, cabaret comedienne Amy Gordon lists her Special Skills as: Rollerskate dancing (disco, tap), Ukulele, Swing Dance, Tango, Stilts, Slackwire, Rolling Globe, Yoga, Prat/Stairfalls, Hat-tricks, Juggling (pass clubs, knives, fire), rubber face/body, dialects, Dutch/French languages, Pyrotechnic Shooter.
Her acts include doing a Flamenco dance on rollerskates, singing "Taint No Sin" accompanied in harmony by skulls she wears as a bra, as well as playing "America the Beautiful" in three part harmony on kazoos from three different orifices. The latter act you can see below.
So far as I can tell, this famed bit of performance art is an exact depiction of what most of the WU commenters are always seeking to arrange amongst themselves.
Fans of famed comics artist Jules Feiffer will surely recall his good-hearted but light-headed character who spontaneously broke into dance to celebrate or bewail any proposition or concept, however absurd. You can see an example of Feiffer's creation to the far right.
Well, it appears that Feiffer did not create such a character, but merely drew from life. Or perhaps the gal whom you see in mid-air, next to the Feiffer panel, was inspired by Feiffer.
For in this BOSTON GLOBE obituary we learn how "Gabrielle Orcha of Cambridge, a choreographer and playwright," intends to mark her grandmother's passing.
"As a tribute to her grandmother, Orcha has choreographed a dance, commissioned by the Citi Performing Arts Center, that she will perform at the Shubert Theatre in May."
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.