He held the vacuum tube in one hand, a can of Raid in the other, and proceeded to spray the insecticide into the vacuum. What our smart, young scientist failed to remember is that aerosols are flammable, and vacuum cleaner motors generate heat. The resulting explosion removed his facial hair and scattered the dusty, angry contents of the Dirt Devil all over the vicinity.
Adding insult to injury, Charles was not the only one to survive with minor injuries. The wasps proceeded to vent their spleen upon the exposed (and slightly scorched) skin of the scientist, who referred to the episode as “an unfortunate lapse in the calculation of consequences.”
Reference: Anonymous eyewitness account
Reader Comments:
“Of Wasps and Men”
“No good deed goes uns(t)ung.”
At Risk Survivor: Buffalo Stampede
Unconfirmed
1985
On my second day at Yellowstone National Park I rose early to get a good start on sightseeing. My second stop was a roadside parking lot near an open field where wild buffalo graze. The parking lot is lined with explicit warning signs. Buffalo are dangerous. Visitors should not leave their cars, and certainly not enter the field on foot.
I was taking snapshots with my telephoto lens when a car from California pulled in. A man with a camera emerged from the car. I heard him tell his wife that the buffalo were too far away, and he was going to walk out for a better shot. I called over, “Read the warning signs! Stay away from the animals.”
He said nothing that big could catch him, and he walked to within fifty feet of a buffalo. I picked up the mike on my CB radio and started calling for the park rangers to bring a body bag.
As soon as his camera shutter clicked, the buffalo charged. Buffalo can run thirty-five miles per hour for short distances, so I was amazed that this man was able to sprint fifty yards back to his car ahead of the angry animal. He slid to a stop and managed to get in the car before the buffalo caught up.
* * *
“As soon as his camera shutter clicked, the buffalo charged.”
* * *
But his car didn’t escape the buffalo’s attention. It rammed the car repeatedly, severely damaging the door, top, hood, radiator, lights, et cetera. The car was totaled. Park rangers arrived expecting a bloody mess, but the man and his wife survived with little more than glass cuts and, I suspect, some rather interesting marks in their undershorts.
Reference: Anonymous eyewitness account
“Life is tough, but it’s tougher when you’re stupid.”
—John Wayne
At Risk Survivor: A Salty Tale
Unconfirmed
SEPTEMBER 1998, IDAHO
A few people out cow-tipping made so much noise that they woke the farmer. The farmer came running out with a shotgun loaded with rock salt, yelling “Get out of my fields!” One interloper yielded to an impulse to drop his pants and moon the farmer, offering a bright target in the dark night. The farmer took aim with his shotgun and pegged him in his butt and testicles!
The wounded man managed to crawl back to his car, where his snickering friends awaited. He was in great distress, but also in great embarrassment, and refused to go to the emergency room. His friends dropped him off at home, where he made the painful choice to soak the rock salt out in the tub.
* * *
Cow-tipping is an activity in which members of our species attempt to prove their superiority over a “lesser” species by sneaking up on an unsuspecting cow sleeping on a hillside, and pushing her over. Laughter ensues among the triumphant humans as the “inferior” animal rolls down the hill, trying to regain its footing.
* * *
Eight hours later, the young man was still unsuccessful. By then his parents had heard his muffled cries of agony and wondered what was up. When he finally admitted the truth, they rushed him to the emergency room, where doctors removed several chunks of salt and, from what I understand, had the best laugh. One doctor told his parents that he would never be able to reproduce.
Reference: Idaho Falls Post Register and an anonymous eyewitness account
“No drug, not even alcohol, causes the fundamental ills of society. If we’re looking for the source of our troubles, we shouldn’t test people for drugs. We should test them for stupidity.”
—P. J. O’Rourke
At Risk Survivor: Snake in the Grass
Confirmed True by Darwin
SCOTLAND
A biting story from Scotland.
A hiker in Scotland picked up a harmless grass snake so his brother could take a picture. Just as he reached for it, a black adder slithered into view, so he grabbed that one too. The adder is Britain’s only venomous snake. Both serpents sank their fangs into the forty-four-year-old, who responded with serious anaphylactic shock. He gradually and painfully recovered in the hospital. His excuse for his rash act? He didn’t think venomous snakes inhabited Scotland.
* * *
Black adders are melanistic adders, not a species in their own right. Adders are normally greenish, with a black diamond pattern along their backs.
* * *
Reference: The Scotsman
At Risk Survivor: “Bite Me!”
Confirmed True by Darwin
AUGUST 2007, OREGON
Man sticks rattlesnake in mouth to prove a point.
An amateur snake collector caught a twenty-inch rattlesnake on the highway. Three weeks later, his captive took its revenge. The formerly fearless snake charmer admitted, “You can assume alcohol was involved.”
* * *
“It’s a nice snake. Nothing can happen.”
* * *
He had a six-pack under his belt and was consuming what he described as “a mixture of stupid stuff” at a barbecue. The calamity was precipitated when he handed a beer to his ex, using the same hand that held the rattlesnake.
“Get that thing out of my face,” she said.
He protested, “It’s a nice snake. Nothing can happen. Watch!” Famous last words. As they left his mouth, his fate was sealed.
One month later, still sore from muscle and nerve damage from the venom, the twenty-three-year-old admitted that he stuck the snake in his mouth to prove his point. Instead, he disproved his point, for the snake bit him. He had no time for embarrassment over his mistake. In great pain and gasping for breath, he asked his ex to drive him to the hospital. “She was the only one sober,” he explained.
He was unconscious by the time he arrived, his swollen tongue protruding from his mouth. Physicians performed a tracheotomy to restore airflow to his lungs and administered antivenin. He was kept heavily sedated for several days. When the swelling went down, “we let him wake up,” his doctor reported.
The Poison Control Center sees about fifty snakebite victims a year. Generally, they are injected on the legs while hiking, or arms while reaching under a rock. Few are bitten on the tongue.
His friends were blunt: “What the heck were you thinking?”
His answer? “It’s my own stupidity.”
Reference: The Oregonian, Associated Press, LiveScience.com
Reader Comments:
“Snake got your tongue?”
“Anyone wanna do SNAKE SHOTS?”
At Risk Survivor: Shark Kiss
Confirmed True by Darwin
AUGUST 2006, FLORIDA
A scuba diver was bitten on the lip when he attempted to kiss a nurse shark. The bite was a surprise to the diver, as he had kissed hundreds of sharks! He explained, “You pick ’em up, rub their belly, scratch ’em, hug ’em, might as well give them a smooch while you’re there.”
* * *
“The diver had kissed hundreds of sharks.”
* * *
Past performance is no guarantee of future results. This shark took exception to his unwanted advances and bit the diver’s lip. To add insult to injury, a group of snappers came in for a few nibbles too. Luckily, a patient plastic surgeon was able to repair his mangled lip.
Has the diver learned his lesson? Apparently not! He simply plans to modify his amorous technique: “Don’t kiss a nurse shark while it’s upside down.”
One reporter remarked, “Better still, don’t kiss them at all.”
Reference: CBS, divester.com
Urban Legend: Roping a Deer
STATUS: Urban Legend
Darwin warns: I cannot find an original source, nor any confirmation. Snopes.com has not yet addressed this story’s veracity; however, its widespread presence on the Internet and its fantastical tone led me to consider the story a fabrication.
I had this idea that I was going to rope a deer, put it in a stall, sweet-feed it corn for a few weeks, then butcher it and eat it. Corn-fed venison. Yum! The first step in this culinary adventure was catching a deer.
Since they congregate at my cattle feeder and do not have much fear of me (a bold one will sometimes come right up and sniff at the bags of feed while I am in the back of the truck four feet away), it should not be difficult to rope one, toss a bag over its head to calm it down, then hog-tie it and transport it home.
I filled the cattle feeder and hid behind it with my rope. The cattle, having seen a roping or two before, stayed well back. They were not having any of it.
After twenty minutes my deer showed up, three of them. I picked a likely looking one, stepped out, and threw my rope. The deer just stood there and stared at me. I wrapped the rope around my waist and twisted the end so I would have a good hold. The deer still just stood and stared at me, but you could tell it was mildly concerned about the whole rope situation.
I took a step toward it. It took a step away. I put a little tension on the rope and received an education. The first thing I learned is that, while a deer may just stand there looking at you funny while you rope it, it is spurred to action when you start pulling on that rope.
That deer EXPLODED.
The second thing I learned is that, pound for pound, a deer is a LOT stronger than a cow or a colt. A cow or a colt in that weight range, I could fight down with some dignity. A deer? No chance.
That thing ran and bucked, it twisted and pulled. There was no controlling that deer, and certainly no getting close to it. As it jerked me off my feet and started dragging me across the ground, it occurred to me that having a deer firmly attached to a rope was not such a good idea. The only upside is that they do not have much stamina.
* * *
“Deer are like horses, only twice as strong and three times as evil.”
* * *
A brief ten minutes later it was tired and not as quick to jerk me off my feet and drag me. It took me a few minutes to realize this, since I was mostly blinded by the blood flowing out of the big gash in my head.
At that point I had lost my appetite for corn-fed venison. I hated the thing and would hazard a guess that the feeling was mutual. I just wanted to get that devil creature off the end of that rope. But if I let it go with the rope hanging around its neck, it would likely die slow and painful somewhere.
Despite the gash in my head, and several large knots where I had cleverly arrested the deer’s pell-mell flight by bracing my head against large rocks as it dragged me across the ground, I could still think clearly enough to recognize that I shared some tiny amount of responsibility for the situation we were in. I didn’t want the deer to suffer a slow death.
I managed to get it lined up between my truck and the feeder, a little trap I had set beforehand, like a squeeze chute. I backed it in there, and I started moving forward to get my rope back.
Did you know that deer bite? They do!
I never in a million years would have thought that a deer would bite, so I was very surprised when I reached up there to grab hold of that rope, and the deer grabbed hold of my wrist. Now, when a deer bites you, it is not like a horse; it does not just bite and release. A deer bites and shakes its head, like a pit bull. They bite HARD and won’t let go. It hurts!
The proper reaction when a deer bites you is probably to freeze and draw back slowly. I tried screaming and wrenching away. My method was ineffective. It felt like that deer bit and shook me for several minutes, but it was likely only several seconds.
I, being smarter than a deer (though you may be questioning that claim by now), tricked it. While I kept it busy tearing the bejesus out of my right arm, I reached up with my left hand and pulled that rope loose. That was when I learned my final lesson in deer behavior for the day.
Deer will strike at you with their front feet. They rear right up and strike at head and shoulder level, and their hooves are surprisingly sharp. I learned long ago that when a horse strikes at you with its hooves and you can’t get away, the best thing to do is make a loud noise and move aggressively toward the animal. This will cause it to back down a bit, so you can make your escape.
This was not a horse. This was a deer. Obviously, such trickery would not work. In the course of a millisecond I devised a different strategy. I screamed like a child and turned to run.
* * *
Reader comment: “Roping a deer (or grabbing a wounded deer by the horns) may seem outrageous, but it has been done! And the deer don’t like it at all. This kind of foolishness happens frequently. How do I know? I live in north-central Montana, and I tried to rope a deer myself once, but I missed. Thankfully. Deer are savage animals when trapped.”
* * *
The reason we have been taught NOT to turn and run from a horse that paws at you is that there is a good chance that it will hit you in the back of the head. Deer are not so different from horses after all, other than being twice as strong and three times as evil. The second I turned to run, it hit me right in the back of the head and knocked me down. When a deer paws at you and knocks you down, it does not immediately depart. I suspect it does not recognize that the danger has passed. What it does instead is paw your back and jump up and down on you, while you are lying there crying like a baby and covering your head.
I finally managed to crawl under the truck, and the deer went away. Now I know why people go deer hunting with a rifle and a scope. It’s so they can be somewhat equal to the prey.
Reference: Numerous Internet sources, none with attribution
CHAPTER 9
FAQ
FAQ: Why is it called the Darwin Awards?
Sorry you’re dead, but thanks for not reproducing! Here’s a Darwin Award for your noble sacrifice.
—Wendy
The Darwin Awards are named in honor of Charles Darwin, a scientist fondly referred to as the father of evolution. The premise of the Awards is that the human species is still evolving. How do we know? We observe that people sometimes die due to their own brainless calculations. We hypothesize that there was something genetic behind the idiocy, something that would have been passed on to offspring. And we conclude that the next generation is one idiot smarter. If the human race is growing smarter over time, Charles Darwin would call that evolution!
FAQ: Is this a Darwin Award? The Rules.
People confide the most astonishing stories and ask, “Is this a Darwin Award?” There are more Darwin Awards and At Risk Survivors than I can possibly chronicle. Decide for yourself using this handy Field Guide to Identifying a Darwin Award.
Field Guide to Identifying a Darwin Award
To win, an adult must eliminate herself from the gene pool in an astonishingly stupid way that is verifiably true.
Reproductive dead end: Out of the gene pool
The Darwin Awards poke ironic fun at the self-removal of incompetent genes from the human race. The potential winner must therefore render herself deceased or, more happily, still alive but incapable of reproducing (nudge, wink). If someone does manage to survive an incredibly stupid feat, then her genes ipso facto have something to offer in the way of luck, agility, or stamina. She is therefore not eligible for a Darwin Award, though somet
imes the story is too entertaining to pass up and the At Risk Survivor earns an honorable mention.
Excellence
The true Darwin Award winner exhibits an astounding lack of judgment. We are not talking about common mishaps like breaking a leg while skiing. The final fatal act must be of truly idiotic magnitude, like sledding down a ski run on foam protective padding you recently removed from the ski towers.
The Darwin Award winner overlooks risks that are seemingly impossible to overlook. Baking bullets in an oven, driving while reading, using the butt end of a loaded rifle as a club, taking the batteries out of the carbon monoxide detector because the alarm keeps going off…. that sort of thing. “What were they thinking?”
Self-selection: The candidate caused her own demise.
Nobody can give you a Darwin Award. You have to earn your own by showing a gross ineptitude for survival. A driver hit by a falling tree is a victim of circumstance. If you roped the tree to your pickup…you are a candidate for a Darwin Award.
However, if you are intentionally attempting to win, you are disqualified! I do not want to encourage risk-taking behavior. Most extreme sports accidents are also disqualified, because the person made a willing trade-off between risk and reward.
The Darwin Awards Next Evolution: Chlorinating the Gene Pool Page 15
