"...we should pass over all biographies of 'the good and the great,' while we search carefully the slight records of wretches who died in prison, in Bedlam, or upon the gallows."
~Edgar Allan Poe

Friday, May 20, 2016

Weekend Link Dump

This week's Link Dump is sponsored by Strange Company HQ staffer Mac.  If anyone needs a good Sphinx impersonator, he has very reasonable rates.

Who the hell were the Luwians?

Who the hell was Neil Dovestone?

What the hell is this Viking runestone?

What the hell was the Rendlesham Incident?  (A continuing series, here.)

How the hell did Vincent Van Gogh die?

Watch out for the Wulver!

Watch out for Old Stinker!

Watch out for those paranormal post offices!

Watch out for those Irish shape-shifting turkeys!

Spring-heeled Jack visits Dundee.

Tudor vagabonds.

Early American medical cures.

A pet cemetery fit for a Queen.

The world's last survivor from the 19th century.

A church haunted by a ghostly bird.

The Atlanta file clerk who became pen pals with Flannery O'Connor and Iris Murdoch.

The Dorset ghost of T.E. Lawrence.

The discovery of a secret Mexican tunnel.

14th century weight-loss tips.

The ghost of Lady Lee.

An unusual child-stealing case.

The legend of the madam who turned to stone.

The diary of a young Victorian clerk.

A feast fit for a newly-cornonated king.

Why you might want to reconsider naming your son "John."

Studying a "plague village."

A collection of small, offbeat Australian museums.

The history of aftershave.

The governess' tale.

Bavarian werewolves want you to mind your own business.

The Victorian "solitary vice."

A life-saving luminous entity.

Early 20th century floraphones.

18th century flower power.

The elves of Iceland.

Old cures for hay fever.

The "first Englishman in Japan."

The last king of the Cumbrians.

How astronomy was used to date an ancient poem.

Mesopotamian ghosts.

Orange County ghosts.

Stories involving Bigfoot and Mt. St. Helens.

The latest on the "alien megastructure."

The Sykes-Picot Agreement.

The famous weapon that never existed.

More Bohemian Cats.

A tunnel-loving entomologist.

Rona Barrett, Gossip Queen.

An ancient shipwreck was recently discovered.

Captain Cook's cook.

Victorian female explorers.

That time a Princess met an Empress.

That time two murderers murdered each other.

That time a bunch of schoolkids reburied Liver-Eating Johnson.

That time Missouri went to war against cobras.

That time Satan visited New York.

Relics of ancient humans have been found under a Florida river.

Poland's Holy Sepulchre Guardians.

Sentries and the supernatural.

A puzzling quadruple murder.

The Battle of the Hydaspes.

Regency marriage settlements.

The efforts to develop a photo from a corpse's eye.

The transformation of a transported convict.

An Anglo-Saxon summer.

The real Macbeth.

The Incombustible Man.

The first official royal mistress.

A tale of a Weeping Virgin that ended very badly.

Yet another love triangle that ended very badly.

Some delightful Regency toasts.

The legendary peacock.

In case you're assuming entertainment at the Moulin Rouge was always the height of sophistication, think again.

And it's time to say farewell for this week. See you on Monday, when we'll be doing a bit of grave-robbing. In the meantime, here's the Sir Douglas Quintet:


  1. I could stare at Mac all day.

  2. Wow, does Mac look like my Renn. It is more evidence for my theory that whether or not they are breeds, there are certain genetic codes shared by cats. Your boy and mine could be brothers.

    1. The really weird thing is, from all you've said about Renn, he and Mac have identical personalities. Quiet, well-behaved, intelligent, of a scholarly and scientific bent. :) They do say that everyone has a doppelganger...

    2. My Bambi could be their sister! https://m.imgur.com/pyff6Sm

    3. Good God, there's a whole army of 'em.


Comments are moderated. The author of this blog reserves the right to delete remarks from spammers, trolls, idiots, lunatics, jerks, and anyone who happens to annoy me on days when I've gotten out of bed the wrong way. Which is usually any day ending with a "y."