Weekend Link Dump

Strange company's getting by with a little help from their friends.

And so are the cats.

The latest from the World of Weird:

What the hell was that?

Or that?

And, pray tell, what the hell were these?

I can assure you, we really don't want to know what the hell this was.

Drink radium!  It sparkles and foams like champagne!  It'll give you that very special glow.

The strange Yarmouth runic stone.

I assume the wedding registry for this couple was at Forest Lawn.

The Mystery of the Mummified Cat of Islington.

The RHLI Museum has its own cat mummy, but this story is more Gothic tragedy than mystery.  (H/T Twitter's @captainswallow.)

The case of the aristocratic virgin birth.

Black Jack and Mike, the British Museum's most esteemed residents.  Not mummified, thank heavens.

As Bill Crider would say, here's the plot for your next 1950s science-fiction movie:  An ancient underground network stretching from Scotland to Turkey has just been uncovered.

Commemorating the first people to die in an air crash... in 1785.

It's official:  The Tunguska explosion was caused by a meteor.  Or, uh, "maybe?"

Ufologist Nick Redfern presents what may be my favorite conspiracy theory yet:  What if the government is just as in-the-dark about extraterrestrials as we are?

Ah, those strait-laced, repressed, hyper-conventional Victorians.  Here's an ad where the Pope is endorsing cocaine.

Norman Bates meets Charles Fort.

The kind of thing they did for fun in 19th century India.

The kind of thing they're still doing for fun in Australia.

Here we see a return of one of the more delightful conspiracy theories:  Elizabeth I, the Virgin King.

While we're on the topic of disputed identities:  Was Christopher Columbus really a Lithuanian prince?

An alien abductee story featuring...uh, strawberry ice cream.  (True story:  What slightly unsettled me about this tale is that, the night before I read it, I dreamed that I was buying strawberry ice cream.  I remember thinking that I don't particularly like that flavor, but for some reason, I felt I had to buy some anyway.  So, if this blog isn't updated next week and I disappear from Twitter, you'll know I've become a guinea pig for extraterrestrials.  I'll tell you this:  If the aliens start examining my brain, they won't know what they're in for.)

That's it for this week, folks.  Assuming  I'm still here Monday, I'll share a tale about gold mining in New Mexico.  Oh, and with a few disappearances, deaths, robberies, frauds, secret societies, and decapitations thrown in.

Lots and lots of decapitations, actually.

The fun never stops around this blog.

(Oh, and a note to the aliens:  I prefer chocolate caramel swirl, thanks.)