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The Darwin Awards 6: Countdown to Extinction

Page 16

by Wendy Northcutt


  At-Risk Survivors: Agua Ski Calamity

  Unconfirmed Personal Account

  Featuring water, alcohol, do-it-yourself ingenuity, and a boat

  29 DECEMBER 2009, MEXICO | Sun, sea, sand, well-built hombres in small bathing suits, tropical drinks—Mazatlán is everything you could wish for on a long No -Freakin’-Snow! winter holiday. Boats are rented, sunscreen slathered on, rum-related judgment-impairing drinks poured, what could possibly go sideways?

  Enter Oscar, thirty-four, Scooter, twenty-two, and their fifty-eight-year-old mom, Taffy. Their favorite warm-weather activity is water skiing, especially after the consumption of two or three drinks with paper umbrellas. If the Olympics makes Near-Death Experience a medal event, these three will clean up.

  The lack of a tow rope vexed the colorful trio until one child of Bacchus recruited the others to execute a plan to MAKE TOW ROPE so they could go skiing. The ingredients for this makeshift replacement were deep-sea fishing line, the patience to braid fifty yards of doom-in-the-making, and a handle to affix to the rope. Taffy’s always up for sacrificing her bikini top for a good cause, so that was the tow rope handle.

  It was like watching a train wreck unfold. The boat engine revved, Taffy jumped in, Leo was at the wheel. Scooter put on the water skis, bobbed into position, and shouted, “Hit it!” The boat reached warp nine before the braided line suffered what NASA would call a catastrophic failure, snapping in half somewhere along its length, coming apart at the bikini handle, the hitch, and Poseidon only knows where else.

  Out-of-control Scooter was sent flying over a low boat ramp and into the open hold of a fishing boat. A highly irate Mexican fisherman threw him and his skis back overboard. Taffy got spanked with fishing line lashes across her back, and Leo narrowly missed plowing into a tourist boat due to the combination of excess speed and sudden loss of drag.

  Turns out, tickets for “disturbing the peace” and “public drunkenness” add up to $130 in fines and a good scolding from the judge, who pointed out the obvious at length: This could have been tragic, Scooter could have broken his neck, and Leo could have sunk a tourist boat that was chock-full of little kids.

  As for me, this year I’m gonna stay home and shovel the driveway.

  Reference: blrqul of Ogden, Utah

  CHAPTER 0

  FAQ: YOU ASK, WE TELL

  What are the Darwin Awards? • Who can win one? What are the rules? • Is there an actual, physical Darwin Award? • Are any winners alive? • Where do you get your stories? • How do you confirm the stories? • Have you ever been wrong? • How many submissions do you get? • Are the winners decided by vote? • Why aren’t these buckets of testosterone on your list? • Who writes the great Science essays? • Why are Science essays in a humor book? • What is the history of this dubious distinction? • The Darwin Awards are written by . . . a woman!? • What do the families think? • I have kids. Am I safe? • Are humans really evolving? • Isn’t there something beautiful about moronic creativity? • Why so many men? • Why do we laugh at death? • What inspired you to do this? • What are your aspirations? • How many stories? How many books? How many more? • Are you making a movie, musical, or TV show? • Do you drive while using a cell phone? • What were those Five (5) Rules, again?

  FAQ: What are the Darwin Awards?

  Darwin Awards: A Chronicle of Enterprising Demises

  Heroic service to humanity deserves recognition and respect. To that end, we have created the Darwin Award, named for evolutionary theorist Charles Darwin, to honor those who willingly sacrifice their own lives to the process of natural selection. The Darwin Awards recognize individuals who ensure the long-term survival of the human race by removing themselves from it in a sublimely idiotic fashion, thereby ensuring that future generations are descended from one less idiot.

  Darwin Awards: Improving the Human Race One Idiot at a Time This tongue-in-cheek award is based on the premise that the human species is still evolving, and we see this every time someone manages to kill himself in a really clueless way. An unfortunate loss to be sure, but observe that the human race just got smarter by one idiot. Charles Darwin would call that evolution.

  Here’s a toast to you, sir, for your noble self-sacrifice.

  —Wendy

  The Darwin Awards are not legends. They are true, and that is what makes them so fascinating.

  FAQ: Who can win one? What are the rules?

  Wendy debated philosophy with readers and fans concerning the merits of specific nominees such as wrestler Owen Hart and the Shaker cult that forbade sex, and philosophical concerns such as identical twins, age, inbreeding, etc. These conversations distilled down to Five Simple Rules:

  1. Death.

  2. Excellence.

  3. Self-selection.

  4. Maturity.

  5. Veracity.

  To win a Darwin Award, an adult must eliminate himself from the gene pool in an astonishingly stupid way that is verifiably true.

  1. Death: Out of the gene pool!

  The winner proves he is a reproductive dead end by rendering himself deceased—or, more happily, alive though incapable of reproducing. Sheer stupidity is not enough. If someone, somewhere, somehow manages to survive an incredibly stupid feat, those genes ipso facto have something to offer in the way of luck, agility, or stamina—and therefore the perpetrator is not eligible for a Darwin Award.

  2. Excellence.

  The true Darwin Award winner exhibits a staggering lack of judgment. The final fatal act is of truly phenomenal, pots-of-gold magnitude, like playing with electric wires while standing in the Jacuzzi (p. 179). The Darwin Award winner overlooks risks that are seemingly impossible to overlook. Shooting at dynamite (p. 146), anchoring your boat with a bomb (p. 151), surfing during a hurricane (p. 223). . . all you can say is, “What were they thinking?”

  3. Self-selection: The candidate causes his own demise.

  Nobody can give you a Darwin Award. You must earn it yourself by showing self-evident ineptitude for survival. A hiker hit by a falling tree is merely a victim of circumstance. But if you roped that tree and pulled it over on yourself. . . you are a candidate for a Darwin Award. (p. 232)

  If you intentionally try to win, you are disqualified. We wish to discourage risk-taking behavior, whereas giving publicity to people attempting foolhardy stunts will only encourage them. Most extreme sports accidents are also rejected, because that person made an intentional choice that the risk was worth the reward. Not every action that is risky, is stupid.

  4. Maturity: Those who are young or lack intellect are not eligible.

  Those who lack maturity of age or intellect are not eligible for an Award. A child does not possess sufficient experience to make life-or-death decisions nor are juvenile neurons fully wired, so the responsibility for the child’s safety resides with his guardians. Age sixteen is our rule of thumb. Some readers (particularly young adults) argue that children should be eligible to win, but frankly, we just don’t think the death of a youth is funny. Similarly the downfall of a person with mental handicaps (such as age-related cognitive impairment) is not amusing. We prefer to laugh at those who should have seen it coming.

  THIS BOOK features both Darwin Awards and At-Risk Survivors.

  At-Risk Survivors are just that: People who narrowly escaped a near-death experience. Many are personal accounts—explained by the self-same idiot who planned and survived it—which certainly serve as sobering tales!

  5. Veracity: The event is true.

  Truth is stranger—and funnier—than fiction. We rely on reputable news organizations, responsible eyewitnesses (emergency responders, utility company employees, monks), and whenever possible, multiple independent sources. We also recommend the use of a bullshit radar and a quick reality check at Snopes or Google.

  FAQ: Is there an actual, physical Darwin Award?

  It would be great if there was an actual Darwin Award! But who would we give it to? And what would it be? A bust of C
harles Darwin? A herd of dodo birds? A small, personalized tombstone? A beagle? A disintegrating strand of DNA? Someday there will be an actual, physical Darwin Award that you can give to a boneheaded friend as a warning. Until then, simply appreciate the abstract beauty of the ethereal Darwin Award.

  FAQ: Are any winners alive?

  Yes, an occasional foolish mortal accepts the prize in person. You see, Darwin Award winners are (whistle) out of the gene pool—but not necessarily dead! The lucky few who survive amorous encounters with a vacuum cleaner, a glass vase (p. 83, “SINGLE BUD VASE”), a porcupine or park bench (p. 79, “BENCH PR ESS” )—examples chosen at random—these “lucky” few lose their ability to procreate and are dead to the next generation, yet alive to collect the trophy.

  We also chronicle those who deserve honorable mentions for surviving not-quite-fatal incidents—through no fault of their own. At-Risk Survivors stop short of making the ultimate sacrifice but embody the valiant and creative spirit of a true Darwin Award contender.

  Don’t stand too close to an At-Risk Survivor!

  FAQ: Where do you get your stories?

  From you!

  Every Darwin Award begins as a website submission. Nominations come from around the world, and moderators review the latest self-annihilations while chanting the Rules: “Death. Excellence. Self-selection. Maturity. Veracity.”

  Readers rate the Slush stories on a 1-10 scale, and we review those with the highest vote, referring to the Five Rules, moderator comments, and our own intuition when deciding if a story should make the cut. Five to ten submissions per month are deemed ludicrous enough to become a Darwin Award. Assisted by snarky reader comments, Wendy turns dry news reports into amusing (but factual) vignettes, and they go forth into the public arena.

  Potential Darwin Award? At-Risk Survivor?

  The best submissions land in the Slush Pile:

  www.DarwinAwards.com/slush

  But that’s not the end of the process! Actually it’s a new beginning. 14 The Darwin Awards website reaches one million visitors each month, and on average, each story is read twenty thousand times a month! With this vast audience, we hear about mistakes. Corrections, confirmations, and snarky comments are added to the stories continually. They are updated and sometimes disqualified based on community comments.

  The stories herein have been scrutinized and vetted, and they are accurate to the best of our knowledge at press time. But due to the dynamic processes described above, they are not guaranteed to be entirely accurate. They are a snapshot of the state of human evolution at the time of this writing.

  As you read the tales we bring you, keep in mind the care with which each gem was culled from dozens of competitors and honed to its current form. (:

  FAQ: How do you confirm the stories?

  The words Confirmed by Darwin indicate that a story is backed up by reputable media sources, plausible eyewitnesses such as emergency responders, or multiple independent eyewitness accounts. You can find the original reports on the Darwin Awards website, linked from the bottom of each story’s webpage.

  All the stories are believed to be true. We may gloss over grimy bits and change the names of survivors, but we include every detail about the perpetrator, his motivation, and his methods. Sometimes supporting documentation is insufficient to confirm. Instead of tossing away a perfectly good cautionary tale, we label it UNCONFIRMED and seek additional verification. Often—surprisingly often—readers e-mail the details and confirmation needed.

  If you know important facts, please contact us! www.DarwinAwards.com/book/contact

  In the At-Risk Survivor stories, be aware that we do change names and obscure details in order to provide a measure of anonymity for the innocent—and for that matter, the guilty.

  FAQ: Have you ever been wrong?

  Yes! Sometimes, spectacularly wrong.

  Once upon a time, a man wanted to know what it feels like to be shot with cigarette butts. He loaded an old-fashioned muzzle-loader—persuaded a friend to turn the ciggie-gun on him—and was killed by three butts to the heart! We featured this numbingly ridiculous story in 2001, labeling it CONFIRMED BY DARWIN, and reveled in witticisms like “Smoking Kills” and “Cigarettes Proved Deadly.” Seven years later, MythBusters asked us to provide our sources—and finding them missing or suspicious, we declared, IT’S A HOAX , A LEGEND, COMPLETELY FABRICATED. But in 2010, e-mail from a family friend citing media references, names, and Facebook accounts, reconvinced us that the poor man was indeed killed by cigarette butts!

  For more details on The Smoking Gun, visit

  www.DarwinAwards.com/book/cigarette

  Yes, we have been wrong and wronger, more than once and more than twice. But we aren’t afraid to say we were wrong. That’s why you can trust us. We continually correct errors and update the stories with new information, and you can always find the latest scoop on the Darwin Awards website.

  The Darwin Awards are not legends. They are true, and that is what makes them so funny.

  FAQ: How many submissions do you get?

  Two hundred to four hundred submissions per month. A particularly inspirational story might be submitted hundreds of times. A recent avalanche was in April 2008, when a priest went aloft in a lawn chair tethered to hundreds of helium party balloons—and that was the last we saw of him for many months.

  FAQ: Are the winners decided by vote?

  If votes were all that mattered, you would see more stories about poop and procreation. Put one or both of these in a story, and its score goes up. Grotesque stories also get a boost. We let the popular vote guide our preference—but not rule it.

  Your vote has the most influence in choosing the best of the Slush, pointing out stories that need more polish, and picking the annual Winners.

  Case example: Wendy loved a story that kept getting votes. A Californian was working on a laptop while driving; he drifted over the centerline and was killed. Ha-ha! Ha? Bafflingly unpopular. She rewrote the story four times, trying to convey the humor, but still its score remained low. Minor injuries were suffered by the innocent; that can kill a nomination. In the end, she heeded your votes and removed it from consideration.

  FAQ: Why aren’t these buckets of testosterone on your list?

  We often get enthusiastic pointers to evolution-about-to-happen, for example, crocodile-baiting teenage boys. When young men are being stupid just to garner attention, additional publicity will feed into and actually promote risk-taking. We draw the line at encouraging dangerous stupidity! But certainly croc-baiters (and so forth) are walking into the maw of natural selection.

  “Croc-baiters are walking into the maw of natural selection.”

  FAQ: Who writes the great Science essays?

  The essays in this book were written by graduates of the science writing program at the University of California, Santa Cruz. This program has produced professional science writers since 1981. If you read major science magazines, go to science museums and aquaria, or listen to NPR, you’ve seen and heard their work. The essays in this book were written by Slugs, as the alumni of UCSC call themselves, and we are honored to share their exceptional work with you.

  FAQ: Why are there Science essays in a humor book?

  Wendy says, “I’m a Scientist! I live and breathe science.” The Darwin Awards are based on the scientific premise that humans are evolving. A large portion of our readers are college students, or first heard about the Darwin Awards whilst in college. The Science essays are relevant—often explaining advanced evolutionary concepts—and keep Scientist Wendy interested in her job. “Charles Darwin would be disappointed if I focused only on humor and failed to contribute to scientific knowledge,” says Wendy.

  FAQ: What is the history of this dubious distinction?

  In 1993, Wendy began writing Darwin Award vignettes and gathering a wide audience by sending regular newsletters, encouraging submissions, and facilitating discussions and voting. Her hobby became a consuming passion, as the fans grew fr
om hundreds to thousands, tens of thousands, millions . . .

  Thanks to Wendy’s tireless efforts, today a Darwin Award is a worldwide symbol of stupidity.

  Wendy writes the stories, but the Darwin Awards belong to all of us. The heart and soul of the Darwin Awards is our community. All the stories are available on the website, updated with facts, comments, and quips from readers. The Darwin Awards grows with your guidance. We prune stories when you convince us our judgment is flawed—if the deceased was the victim of a bizarre accident rather than his own bizarre judgment—or more subtle points such as whether the person is mentally incompetent (for example, “Saw It Coming! ” p. 202).

  Wendy’s goal is to maintain this network of people and keep this cultural icon true to its origins.

  When Wendy began chronicling the Darwin Awards, there were only a few in existence. The first use of the term “Darwin Awards” is obscure. Usenet archives contains an August 1985 mention of the fellow crushed beneath a Coke machine while he was trying to shake loose a free can—true story! Five years later, an urban legend surfaced about a man who strapped a JATO rocket to his Chevy, turning it into a doomed aircraft. Wendy took over the helm of the Beagle and began writing the Darwin Awards in 1993; since then, thousands of people have aspired to win a Darwin Award—nine thousand submissions in the last three years alone.

 

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