I swear this is the last postapocalypic robot animals post I make in OMM, but I had to dedicate an entry to Metalzoic, an absurd and highly entertaining story told by Pat Mills and Kevin O’Neill, and published by DC Comics and 2000 AD. If tales of amoral robotic gorillas beating up tank-elephants are your bag, you can buy this stirring saga in stores, including here and here.

I will try not to give away too much plot, focusing only on the creatures, but if you were planning on reading this someday, spoilers are inevitable.

Metalzoic is set on Earth during the, well, Metalzoic period. The above timeline explains it far better than I ever could, but suffice to say the Earth belongs to metallic, naturally evolving robot and plants that evolved themselves from prior machinery. There are still pockets of humanity eking out a Mad Max-esque life, but it’s the robots that run this show.

While the story focuses on Armageddon, Amok, and their respective tribes, it is arguably the Traffids that are the true dominant species. These are the mechanical equivalent of plants. Some grow to huge sizes and form dense forests through which other robots seek their food.

One interesting thing about Metalzoic is that it appears that all the robots are sapient and have names. Even the traffids. The specimen above, the equivalent of a pitcher plant, has successfully replicated a human building, down to the details of the interior, and uses this appearance to trick humans into coming in and dissolving in acid. Our heroes realize something is off when the pages of the books inside are blank.

The hero of the story is Armageddon, a robot gorilla and leader of the Mekaka*, a tribe of assorted robot primates. Armageddon, as the header image makes clear, operated on his own brain to remove such trivialities as emotion and compassion, making him ruthless, amoral, and highly respected by the other Mekaka. He even manages to pick up a squishy human and keep her alive somehow.

Armageddon’s special power, and a main plot point and deus ex machina, is to call on the power of Inti, the robot god, and start PUMPING IRON. It is as awesome as it sounds.

Opposing Armageddon is Amok the god-beast, the patriarch of a herd of wheeldebeasts – robo-elephants, the mightiest creatures of the Metalzoic. He’s pictured above with his calf, the little Buboc, next to him. The caterpillar treads and scoop mouth (just above them) strongly suggests ancestry in digging equipment.

Throughout the story Amok leads his herd of wheeldebeasts through various landscapes for a strange, unknown purpose. He is opposed in this by Attila, a younger male seeking to usurp him as leader of the wheeldebeast herd.

Amok is to the left here, Attila to the right. Why are they destroying the Mekaka village? Is this part of Amok’s mysterious goal? Read the book to find out!

Mekaka and wheeldebeasts are far from the only creatures shown, and a good deal of attention is granted to various predators that attack our heroes. Skimiteks are the lions of the Metalzoic, with saber teeth and chainsaw tongues, and they get around on skis, flying through the metal jungle at high speeds.

In this idyllic Metalzoic scene, a skimitek pride (bottom) is at an oilhole, with a girane and her calf (left) and  other assorted creatures of the open land.

Polarisaurs are found underneath the frozen poles. Clearly the descendants of submarines, they use periscopes to sight prey on the ice before launching a torpedo at them. They then smash through the ice, grab their victim in their jagged teeth, and sink back into the depths. One of those claims the life of a wheeldebeast before Amok could intercede.

The mirrodillo above has an interesting hunting strategy. It works symbiotically with an airborne helicock, and they share the spoils. The mirrodillo attracts prey with its beautiful shining shell…

… prompting its helicock partner hovering above to fire a beam that reflects off the mirrodillo’s shell, causing indiscriminate damage to everything around it. The mirrodillo can then vacuum up its share while the helicock comes down to partake of the feast.

Mugger bugs are the descendants of car crushers, and have massive, crab-like bodies with powerful claws and huge mouths. The underbelly of a mugger bug is a powerful electromagnet that it uses to capture and disable prey before eating it and compressing it into a cube. Its back is covered with the remains of kills, effectively camouflaging it in plain sight. As you may have guessed, this is indeed something used in real life by assassin bugs, not to mention other insects as well. Technology imitates life. Or something.

Loco-constrictors, finally, are enormous snake-robots that evolved from trains, and still use the ruined rail system to get around. At least one of them, Nikku, was capable of generating paralyzing electrical shocks from the plates on her sides. She tries to eat Buboc, and gets chomped through by Amok for her trouble.

Metalzoic is © Pat Mills, Kevin O’Neill, DC Comics, 2000 AD, et al.

*Mekaka!

Bitoso, “The Faster” or “Fasting One” (although some accounts mistakenly refer to “The Fastening One”) is one of the children of Ana, a Keshali fairy of Roma folklore who was coerced into bearing the offspring of the King of the Loçolico. As with his siblings, he is the cause of a number of diseases and ailments, although Bitoso has the dubious distinction of being the mildest and least harmful of the lot.

When Schilalyi moved on to molesting her own siblings, Melalo recommended that the King eat garlic on which he had urinated. After the King visited Ana, she give birth to Bitoso, who became Schilalyi’s husband.

Bitoso is a little worm with multiple heads (some accounts specifically refer to four heads) who causes headaches, stomachaches, and lack of appetite; his gnawing causes earache and toothache. He and Schilalyi’s children cause colic, cramps, tinnitus, and toothache. Bitoso himself is mercifully innocuous compared to his siblings.

Bitoso’s pedigree is one that goes back centuries. The folk knowledge that worms cause toothache dates back at least to the Babylonian civilization, in the tale of the worm’s creation. After Anu created the heavens, the heavens in turn created the Earth, the Earth created the rivers, the rivers created the canals, the canals created the marsh, and the marsh created the worm, the worm came before Shamash and Ea, demanding the food allotted to it. It refused figs and pomegranates, instead choosing to live between the teeth and the jawbone, destroying the blood vessels, seizing the roots, and ruining the strength of the teeth.

References

Clébert, J. P. (1976) Les Tziganes. Tchou, Paris.

Clébert, J. P.; Duff, C. trans. (1963) The Gypsies. Vista Books, London.

Kanner, L. (1931) Teeth of Gods, Saints, and Kings. Medical Life, 131, August 1931.

Meyers Brothers Druggist (1910) Demons of Disease. Meyers Brothers Druggist, v. 31, p. 141.

Pavelčík, N. and Pavelčík, J. (2001) Myths of the Czech Gypsies. Asian Folklore Studies, v. 60, pp. 21-30.

Variations: Biloko (plural)

The Biloko of the Congo are vile, cannibalistic dwarfs or trolls of Nkundo folklore. They make their homes inside hollow trees, and they smell of the Congo’s rainforest. An Eloko has grass for a beard, clothes made of  leaves, and usually carries a bell, which is used to attract and bewitch unsuspecting humans. Despite their size, biloko are far stronger than the average human, and only heroes and sorcerers can defeat them.

Biloko represent the dangers of the forest, of going out alone, and of toying with danger. They are invoked to dissuade people from straying both physically and mentally, and warn husbands of the dangers of abandoning their wives. They may also represent various gangrenous diseases, as they slowly eat their victim away, eventually killing them by ending with the liver, where the spirit resides.

A Nkundo man once built a fenced-in hut in the forest to find game. Whenever the husband left for the village, he would warn his wife. “Remember, if you hear the sound of a little bell, don’t answer or you will die!” Yet as the monotonous hours went by, the wife found herself entranced by the ringing of a bell deep in the forest, coming closer and closer. Finally she ran outside calling to the eloko. “I’m here! Come to me!” she cried, and the eloko duly appeared. “Here I am, I have come to you”, he announced. The wife was overjoyed and prepared a meal for her guest, but the eloko refused the fried bananas and fish. “I only eat human meat, and I am so hungry…” he wheedled. “You are a delicious woman. Give me a piece of flesh”. The woman willingly proffered her arm, and the eloko took a portion of meat, which he roasted and devoured. Then he left, leaving the woman to bandage her wound in silence.

When her husband returned, he saw his wife bedridden and in pain. “I have sores”, she said. “Then take the bandage off, and have some medicine for it”. She refused, and would not explain further. But the next day the same gruesome episode repeated itself – the husband left, the wife entertained the eloko, and the eloko left the wife with another deep injury.

This time the husband did not believe his wife’s excuses, and decided to lie in wait instead of returning to the village. When the eloko returned that day, he pulled out a knife told the woman that this time he desired her liver. The husband immediately fired an arrow into the dwarf, then ran him through with his spear and decapitated him. But the eloko had already stabbed the wife in the liver, and she died. Those who love danger will die in it; or, those who play with fire will get burnt.

Other encounters with biloko treat them more as an enemy tribe than as forest bogeys. Likinda, Itonde, and Lianja, the grandsons of the spirit of Death Ilelangonda, went to war with the biloko, and tricked them into an ambush by scattering mbole-fruits on the path. They slaughtered all the biloko this way save for the wizard Inkankanga and his wife. Likinda caught up with them by turning himself into a baby, causing Inkankanga’s wife to pick him up and care for him. Then he climbed up a tree to throw fruits down to his adopted parents, but instead he transformed himself into a fruit and allowed Inkankanga to swallow him. The terrified eloko sorcerer killed his wife for being the cause of his impending doom, and then spent the rest of the day imploring Likinda not to kill him. Finally he fell into depressed acceptance, and the bored Likinda cut him up from the inside out. He returned to the village, where his story was celebrated with peals of laughter.

References

Knappert, J. (1971) Myths and Legends of the Congo. Heinemann Educational Books, London.

Knappert, J. (1977) Bantu myths and other tales. E. J. Brill, Leiden.

Variations: Came-crude, Came cruse, Came-cruse, Jambe Crue, L’Òs-de-la-Mala-Cama; Sopatard, Sopa-tot-sèr, Soupe-toute-sé (potentially); Ramponneau (potentially)

The Camacrusa, Came Cruse, Came Crude (“Raw Leg” in Gascon) or Òs-de-la-Mala-Cama (“Bone of the Bad Leg”) is a French nocturnal bogey that can be found in Gascony, notable around Aire-sur-L’Adour in the Landes. Its horrifying appearance is generally left to the imagination, but as its name implies it is usually a disembodied leg, possibly somewhat flayed.

Despite its appearance, a camacrusa is very rapid in movement, capable of hiding behind haybales, jumping over ditches and hedges, and easily running down its prey – children who remain outside after dark. How it eats them is unspecified.

Its role has largely been usurped by more traditional bogeys such as Ramponneau and the Sopatard (“Sups-late”) or Sopa-tot-sèr (“Sups-every-evening”). The latter in particular is closely associated with the camacrusa, for as the nursery rhyme goes: “La cama-cruda e lo sopa-tot-sèr, que hèn la nueit plenha de danger” (“The raw-leg and the sups-every-evening, make the night full of danger”).

References

Foix, V. (1904) Glossaire de la Sorcellerie Landaise. Revue de Gascogne, III, pp. 257-262.

Heiniger, P. Les Formes du Noir. In Loddo, D. and Pelen, J. (eds.) (2001) Êtres fantastiques des régions de France. L’Harmattan, Paris.

Nippgen, J. (1930) Les Traditions Populaires Landaises. Revue de Folklore Francais, IV, pp. 149-172.

Variations: Tagänogók

The Tuyango is a carnivorous swamp bird from Argentinian folklore. The Mocoví know it as Tagänogók, while “tuyango” is of Guaraní origin. These birds are currently believed to have been hunted to extinction.

A tuyango looks a lot like a rhea, but it has a distinctive yellow neck. It preys on humans, which it kills and drags back to its lair to devour.

The hawk had a particular vendetta against the tuyangos, and sought to avenge their cannibalism of humans. One tuyango returned to his home with two dead men only to find his four children clubbed to death. The tuyango cried, ejee, ejee, before heading out with his mate to find the hawk. But the hawk asked for fire, and he flew in and out of the smoke until the tuyangos were exhausted and thoroughly confused; only then did he club and kill them. He returned to widespread joy; when his daughter told him “Daddy, a cannibal bird is coming”, he reassured her that he had already killed the tuyango, and all were happy.

References

Cipolletti, M. S.; Guevara, J.; Lehmann-Nitsche, R.; Terán, B. R. D.; and Tomasini, J. A.; Wilbert, J. and Simoneau, K. eds. (1988) Folk Literature of the Mocoví Indians. UCLA Latin American Center Publications, University of California, Los Angeles.

Variations: Dulhama (al-Damiri); Duhlak, Dulhak, Dulchaph (Bochart)

The Dulhath has had a muddled history, with authors disagreeing with each other on the exact name, let alone the appearance. It is first mentioned by al-Qazwini, who refers to the dulhath, but al-Damiri describes it under the name of dulhama, and Bochart reports on the duhlak. Here al-Qazwini’s name has been given priority.

While the original description appears to be al-Qazwini’s, the dulhath’s pedigree probably goes back to jinn who appear as animals – in this case, an ostrich jinni. This in turn led to al-Qazwini’s dulhath as a demon found on certain desert islands, and which resembles a man riding an ostrich. It eats the flesh of humans who have been cast alive or dead into its territory. A dulhath will also invade ships to seek its prey, and when attacked by sailors it speaks loudly in a boastful voice, causing them to prostrate themselves before it. Bochart believed the “boastful voice” to have been some translation error derived from tales of sirens.

The best description of a dulhath is found in the tale of Aboulfaouaris the sailor. Sadly it is all but certifiable, as the creature in question remained unnamed, but its behavior is compellingly close to al-Qazwini’s broad outline. The dulhath that plagued Aboulfaouaris looked like a man of about 40. He had a monstrous shape, a big head, short bristly hair, and an excessively large mouth filled with sharp teeth. Eyes like those of a tiger glared above a flat nose with large nostrils. His arms were nervous, his hands large, and his fingers equipped with viciously hooked claws.

Aboulfaouaris and his crew encountered a dulhath near the island of Java. They saw a naked man clinging to a plank of wood in the sea, calling for help; accordingly the sailors rescued him and brought him aboard ship, where his appearance caused much consternation. When told that he had been narrowly rescued from drowning, the odd man smiled and said “I could have stayed for years in the sea without being bothered; what torments me most is hunger. I have not eaten in twelve hours. Please bring me something to eat, anything, I’m not particular”. An attempt was made to bring him clothing, but the dulhath explained that he always went naked. “Don’t worry, you’ll have lots of time to get used to it”, he added ominously, stamping his foot impatiently. Enough food was presented to him to feed six starving men. The dulhath polished it off and asked for more; the same amount was brought to him and disappeared in short order, and a third helping was called for. One of the slaves, shocked by the creature’s insolence, made to strike him, but the dulhath grabbed him both both shoulders and tore him in half.

All hell broke loose. Aboulfaouaris, sailors, slaves, all descended on the dulhath with sabers drawn, determined to kill the monster. But the dulhath’s skin was harder than diamond. Swords broke and arrows bounced uselessly off his hide. Then they tried to drag him off the ship, but the dulhath sank his claws into the deck, anchoring himself immovably. The sailors were utterly incapable of harming the dulhath. The dulhath, on the other hand, had no such problems as he took one of the sailors and ripped him to pieces with his claws. “My friends, you had better obey me. I’ve tamed worse people than you, and I will have no qualms about having you share the fate of your two shipmates”.

With that the reign of terror began. The dulhath was in full control of the ship, and ate his fourth course while the crew stared in terrified silence. Aboulfaouaris hoped that food and conversation might cause the monster to doze off, but the dulhath smugly reminded him that he had no need for sleep, and none of the soporific tales they told him would have any effect.

All hope seemed lost until deliverance came from the sky. The sailors looked up to see a rukh soaring overhead, and they scattered in fear. The dulhath, however, was unaware of the huge bird, and was standing confidently in the middle of the deck. An easy target! The rukh dove and carried the dulhath off before he could cling to the ship. But the intended prey wasn’t giving up without a fight, and he began tearing and biting into the rukh’s belly. The rukh responded by gouging out the dulhath’s eyes with its talons, and the demon retaliated by eating his way to the rukh’s heart. As it expired, the rukh caught the dulhath’s head in its beak and crushed it like an eggshell. Both monsters plummeted into the waves and vanished.

References

Bochart, S. (1675) Hierozoicon. Johannis Davidis Zunneri, Frankfurt.

al-Damiri, K. (1891) Hayat al-hayawan al-kubra. Al-Matba’ah al-Khayriyah, Cairo.

de Lacroix, P. (1840) Les Mille et Un Jours: Contes Persans. Auguste Desrez, Paris.

al-Qazwini, Z. (1849) Zakariya ben Muhammed ben Mahmud el-Cazwini’s Kosmographie. Erster Theil: Die Wunder der Schöpfung. Ed. F. Wüstenfeld. Dieterichsche Buchhandlung, Göttingen.

Smith, W. R. (1956) The Religion of the Semites: the Fundamental Institutions. Meridian Books, New York.

Variations: The Beast

Deep, permanent lagoons in Brazil and Venezuela are home to the Rahara. According to the Yanomami, this aquatic monster once lived in a large lagoon called Akrawa. Since then the rahara has moved upstream in the Orinoco, finding suitable lagoons to inhabit, or enlarging small lagoons to better fit inside. A rahara lagoon never dries out and can be recognized by observing the shore – there are tracks leading in, but none leading out.

The rahara is the uncle of the anaconda, and grows to greater sizes. It may or may not have feet. Its serpentine body is like a rotten pawpaw tree or a manioc strainer. It is capable of drawing people towards it and swallowing them whole. A rahara will be attracted to fire as it is sure to find a meal there; it will also rush out of its submarine hole to swallow anyone foolish enough to say its name out loud, so it is usually referred to as “the beast”. When in a good mood, raharas make a snapping sound and alert others to their presence. Silence is dangerous.

Raharas have pets in the form of hoatzins and curassows, which roost above the waterholes to entice hunters.  Snakes are also associated with the raharas. One talking boa constrictor turned into a live baby rahara after being shot dead by a hunter. It was kept as a pet in a water-filled palm spathe until it grew big enough to devour its entire adopted village. Finally, the raharas are responsible for floods, tsunamis, and other water-based disasters.

It is advisable to avoid known rahara haunts, and refrain from drinking, bathing, or fishing in those waters. A messenger once ignored those warnings and bathed in such a pond, and was immediately swallowed by a rahara. He called out “Help! Over here!” from inside the creature’s belly, and men arrived from the village with bamboo lances. They began running the rahara – and its prey – through. “Stop! You’re hurting me!” he screamed from inside, but they ignored him until both he and the rahara were dead.

Presumably the man was not well-liked.

References

Albert, B.; Becher, H.; Borgman, D. M.; Cocco, L.; Colchester, M. E. M.; Finkers, J.; Knobloch, F.; Lizot, J.; and Wilbert, J.; Wilbert, J. and Simoneau, K. eds. (1990) Folk Literature of the Yanomami Indians. UCLA Latin American Center Publications, University of California, Los Angeles.

Lizot, J.; Simon, E. trans. (1985) Tales of the Yanomami. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge.

Variations: Lucooma

According to the Yamana, the Lakúma are the most dangerous sea creatures of Tierra del Fuego. These water spirits have been known to tip canoes over, pull their occupants out, and drag them under to consume, leaving their entrails to float to the surface. They can also create huge waves, summon whirlpools, and whip up storms to damage larger vessels.

Lakúma have been compared to whales, squids, and giant worms, making their exact appearance hard to pin down. What is known is that they like to flatten themselves out on the water’s surface, letting their back protrude like a small island. Their broad and flat backs are covered with encrustations of unusually large mussels.

Sometimes there are so many lakúma in one spot that they can be used as stepping-stones. A group of Yamana on a desert island saw countless wide, flat lakúma rise to the surface, forming a living bridge to a bountiful island. “If we run quickly, we’ll get to the other side!” said one man, running over the backs of the lakúma and reaching the other shore. But the others were too slow, and the lakúma dove, taking them to a watery grave. The one survivor recruited enough men to slay many lakúma in retaliation, and their bodies can still be seen today in the form of large, flat stones at the bottom of the sea.

Lakúma will also attack people breaking taboos. It is known that a menstruating girl or túrikipa should not eat berries, but one girl thought she could circumvent the rule by sucking out the juices and spitting the solid outer part. Alas, her canoe was attacked by a lakúma, and it refused the offerings tossed at it until it took the girl and devoured her. It then flattened itself out on the surface and rested. The túrikipa’s people went onto the lakúma’s back, took some of the mussels, and used their sharp shells to dismember the lakúma. But that was small comfort for the túrikipa, whose entrails served as a grisly reminder of her fate.

For all their malevolence, lakúma can be tamed by a powerful yékamuš or shaman, and can become obedient servants. One yékamuš was with his wife in their canoe while she scolded him. “I thought you were a powerful yékamuš, but you can’t even strand a whale, or fetch birds to eat!” In response the yékamuš slept and summoned two lakúma, who raised the canoe’s bow up in the air. “Wake up! Help me!” cried his wife, and the yékamuš stirred and spoke nonchalantly. “I thought you said I was powerless”, he taunted, before telling her to paint the lakúma with white paint. She did as she was told, and the lakúma did not resist. Then they dove and created a good breeze to send the canoe effortlessly to its destination. “I had always made fun of you”, admitted the wife, “but now I know you are truly a capable yékamuš!”

References

Gusinde, M.; Schütze, F. trans. (1961) The Yamana; the life and thought of the water nomads of Cape Horn. Human Relations Area Files, New Haven.

Gusinde, M.; Wilbert, J. ed. (1977) Folk Literature of the Yamana Indians. University of California Press, University of California, Los Angeles.

Variations: Kephalokroustes, Sklerokephalon

Nicander classified the Kranokolaptes, the “Head Striker”, as a phalangion or spider. This is all the more puzzling because the description has nothing arachnoid about it. No doubt its deadly bites were seen as reason enough to list it after wolf spiders and malmignattes.

The kranokolaptes is an insect found in Egypt, and which develops in the persea tree (perhaps Mimusops). It has the appearance of a moth, with four downy felt-textured wings that leave an ashy dust behind. Philoumenos described it as green in color, but that is apparently a misreading of Nicander. The head of the kranokolaptes is hard, heavy, and nodding; its abdomen is thick and fat. It has a deadly stinger located below its head.

A kranokolaptes will use its stinger to attack the heads and necks of humans and cause instant death. Kranokolaptes stings are deadly unless victims are treated with its antidote – a kranokolaptes drowned in oil.

It has been suggested that hawkmoths (Sphingidae), with their impressive sizes, thick abdomens, and prominent probosces, are at the root of the kranokolaptes tale. The vampire moth Calyptra thalictri is even more compelling. Having evolved from fruit-piercing moths, vampire moths use the same methods to puncture skin and drink blood – and they rock their heads back and forth as they penetrate, explaining the “nodding” aspect. The similarities end here, however, as a bite from Calyptra merely causes swelling and irritation.

References

Beavis, I. C. (1988) Insects and other Invertebrates in Classical Antiquity. Alden Press, Osney Mead, Oxford.

Kitchell, K. F. (2014) Animals in the Ancient World from A to Z. Routledge, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon.

“But ABC!” I hear you say. “Dinosaurs aren’t monsters, they’re fascinating animals that are still with us today in the form of vicious brain-eating backyard predators!” Rubbish, I say. The dinosaurs I’m about to show you are true monsters that crawled from the fevered minds of 50s children’s book illustrators.

Specifically, they came from this book The Wonderful World, written by James Fisher in 1954. I suppose it’s okay for a book from the 50s, the information in it is as dated as you’d expect, but the main draw here is the two-page dinosaur spread. The cover gives you a glimpse – okay, a major spoiler of the horror to come.

This is the bit where the book talks about dinosaurs. The entire prehistory bit was obviously cribbed from the vastly superior The World We Live In (still the best science series/book ever made, 50s or not), with some images directly copied from it. But the dinosaurs look like they started with Zallinger’s mural before getting seriously mangled in translation.

The sauropods in the background aren’t so bad, even if they do have microscopic heads vanishing into the distance. The true horrors are the two foreground figures.

By now you know this Tyrannosaurus from the cover. Someone please explain to me the anatomy of this thing, because I’m quite sure it’s impossible on this planet (and several others). The artist must have been playing Starsiege or Mechwarrior prior to painting. I don’t know where its right leg went eithe – oh , nevermind, there it is pinning its food down. It’s munching on Stegosaurus for extra irony (the two never lived together, much as Fantasia would have you believe otherwise. In fact, there’s more time between Stegosaurus and Tyrannosaurus than there is between Tyrannosaurus and us).

It’s hard to top the Tyrannosaurus, but in my opinion the hadrosaur is at least as horrifying, if not even worse. Look at it. Look. Its eyes stare into your very soul. Its hand is distressingly human. And it appears to be phasing into the mud (the dreaded Shadowduck of the X-Men). That or it has no hind legs to speak of.

No wonder some people complain about feathered dinosaurs. They must have grown up on these abominations.

Variations: Old Man of the Sea

Atui Koro Ekashi, the “Old Man of the Sea”, is briefly mentioned in tales from the Ainu of Hokkaido, Japan. It looks like an enormous bag, and it can generate a powerful suction from its mouth to engulf whales and ships into its bloated bulk.

A boat managed to scare off the atui koro ekashi when one sailor threw his loincloth into the creature’s mouth. Even giant bag-monsters find loincloths disgusting, and the boat was released.

References

Chamberlain, B. H. (1888) Aino Folk-Tales. The Folk-Lore Society XXII, C. G. Röder, Leipzig.

Noted journalist, humorist, and spinner of tall tales Dan De Quille introduced the Shoo Fly to the world in the October 14, 1870 issue of the Territorial Enterprise. Since then, attempts to find a representative type specimen of this remarkable insect have failed.

Shoo flies are large aquatic flies native to a shallow warm lake fourteen miles northeast of Mud Lake in Washoe County, Nevada. They were discovered and appropriately named by prospectors. A shoo fly is black in color, four inches long and with an abdomen three inches in circumference. The transparent wings resemble those of a horsefly and produce a ten-inch wingspan. Shoo fly larvae are deep green in color, six inches long and four inches wide, and feed on rushes; after roasting they look like sweet potatoes and have a vegetable taste, making them prized food commodities.

Swarms of shoo flies buzz over the waters of the lake and under it. The flies can go underwater and produce an air bubble that forms around their heads. With this organic scuba gear, the flies can stay underwater indefinitely.

One dead fly was brought back to civilization by the prospectors, where it was displayed dangling from a string in Piper’s Saloon at the corner of B and Union streets. But when a San Francisco entomologist volunteered to identify the insect, suggesting that it may be a hymenopteran (bee or wasp) rather than a dipteran fly, De Quille pointed out that the snow storm blew all the flies into their lake, and the proprietors of the saloon refuse to part with their attraction. Furthermore, he added – tongue firmly in cheek – that based on the shoo fly’s “cuspidated tentacles” and the “scarabaeus formation of the thoracic pellicle”, he believed it to be “a genuine bug of the genus “hum””.

References

Lewicki, J. and the editors of LIFE (1960) Folklore of America, part V. LIFE Magazine, Aug. 22, 1960.

Loomis, C. G. (1946) The Tall Tales of Dan De Quille. California Folklore Quarterly, Volume V, No. 1, January 1946.

A Natural History of the Unnatural World

by Joel Levy and the Cryptozoological Society of London

The world of teratological books can be a minefield at times. It’s hard to extricate serious research from complete fabrication, and sometimes supposedly serious books (Borges and Dubois’ works notably) have bogus myths that then get parroted by other works as true. Then there are cryptozoological books which generally are separate from myth and folklore… except in this case.

A Natural History of the Unnatural World (ANOTUW from now on) has a special place in my heart for being one of the first books that really got me into mythical entities. Presented as a cryptozoological book written by the ersatz “Cryptozoological Society of London”, it is actually more of a tongue-in-cheek book that treats legendary beasts as cryptids. Oh, and there’s some actual cryptids in there like apemen and the Loch Ness monster, but otherwise ANOTUW is neither fish nor fowl nor alectrocampus. In fact, even the publishers seem to have realized that and reprinted it under the name Fabulous Creatures and other Magical Beings. A much more sensible name, if you ask me, but as I have the original version I will be reviewing that. If you don’t trust my judgement and want to buy it for yourself, you can get it here and here.

Scope

Going by the title you’d think this was a book about cryptozoology, but no self-respecting cryptid manual that I know of has sections on chimeras, simurghs, fairies, basilisks, and griffins. Instead this book covers the wide range of legendary creatures you’d expect from a mythology book. The only actual cryptids are giant invertebrates, lake monsters, the chupacabras, and apemen. Also included are various spotlights on mythical characters who encountered those creatures: Atalanta, Jack the Giant-Killer, Sindbad, and so on. Definitely very broad in scope, which may not be what you’d want as an advanced teratologist. On the other hand, a cryptozoologist would find little in the way of useful knowledge, as the cryptids covered are merely the best-known ones. Besides, lumping them with mythical creatures might be a bit insulting.

Organization

ANOTUW is laid out somewhat haphazardly. The creatures are divided by morphology: Invertebrates, Reptiles, Birds, Mammals, Hybrids, Manimals (that’s human/animal hybrids), and Hominids. The entries themselves are in several different styles: CSL Reviews (magazine entries, the most “serious”-looking ones), Field Reports (field-note style papers and sketches), Letters (correspondence sent to the CSL), assorted document clippings, and large double-page spreads of mythical hero art.

Text

The text makes it clear that the book is not meant to be serious, with plenty of jokes, puns, and stereotypes. The Thunderbird entry is a newspaper clipping from the “Hangman’s Gulch Herald”, complete with an ad for “Dr. Boardman’s Patent Tonic Remedy” and “Pastor’s Dog Has Fleas” in local news. The Phoenix entry is titled “C’mon Baby, Light My Pyre”. The Gremlin entry is especially memorable – I don’t know who started the trend of making gremlin entries seem like they’re falling apart, but I fully condone (and have added to) it. The Black Dog entry is adorable. Other entries offer rational explanations for irrational things – retrovirus origins for lycanthropy, for instance.

It’s all great if the book was a lighter look at mythology, but it’s not billed as such. It would be fine if the book pretended to be mythical creatures explained in a believable way, but it doesn’t claim to be. It’s certainly not a cryptozoological book – at least, I don’t think so. It’s all over the place, and it depends on whether you find it funny or not.

The glossary at the end is a two-page infodump of  loads of mythical creatures, many not covered in the book, which makes a good springboard for further reading.

Images

Images are mostly stock photos and archival images, with relatively little original illustration. I do like the sketches sprinkled throughout. The main goal was to try and depict mythical creatures as plausible animals, and ANOTUW largely succeeds. The catoblepas stands out as an image The manticore, chimera, harpy, basilisk, kelpie, chupacabras… all look believable, as though they were field sketches of actual animals. There is all too little of those sketches, which is a shame really.

Various photos of actual animal anatomy are labeled as belonging to mythical creatures. A turtle skull is an amphisbaena’s, shark jaws are a manticore’s… it kind of falls flat if you know your anatomy, but it’s cute none the less.

Research

Pretty good. Almost all the creatures are “actual” mythical creatures, taken and then embellished upon. The book is not meant to be taken seriously and so hasn’t been copied by others repeating the same mistakes. So, for instance, with the kelpie described as a giant salamander, it’s not so much of a problem because it’s easy to tell that that’s interpretation. At least, I think so…

One problem is that the actual information can be hidden under all the extra stuff. Field notes, for instance, could have just one paragraph with legendary information in it, with the rest being accounts of the expedition across two pages.

The other major problem is the reference section. Namely, there is none. Nada. Nil. Zip. Zilch. Not a sausage.

Summary

ANOTUW is a fun, silly book that I have fond memories of, but teratologists will find themselves wanting actual information, while cryptozoologists may well be offended at the treatment of cryptids. I give it 3/5 gigelorums for creativity, design, illustration, and general quantity of creatures, most of which I hadn’t heard of when I first read it. The rating can be raised or dropped one gigelorum, depending on your tolerance for the jokey style.

Whew! Looks like I bit off more than I could chew. I had a megapost on bogeys planned for today but I ended up overshooting my deadline by underestimating the size of said post.

So with that I shall segue into my undeserved holiday hiatus. I will probably still update the tumblr but there won’t be official creature entries until I’m back from vacation. Happy holidays everyone, and try not to get impaled by the Trotte-vieilles.

As we transition into a new year, we can only hope it will be better than the last.

Where ABC is concerned, I resolve to produce more creatures and keep up the high standard you have come to expect from the internet’s best encyclopedia of fabulous beasts. In 2015 ABC had a total of around 102,000 views from 27,000 viewers… in 2016 ABC has had about 300,000 views from 65,000 viewers!

I couldn’t have done it without all of you. Join me in celebrating ABC’s 2nd New Year, and remember… omne ignotum pro terribili.

Thank you, thank you.

As we move into a new year and I bring my numbed brain back into gear, it’s time for you to remind me what you’d like to see on ABC since I’ve forgotten what you’ve requested last time.

No promises, since it’s random what I do and when depending on what I feel like and what I can find information on, but requesting things will definitely move them up the list.

Variations: Bogie, Boogy, Bogy, Bogeyman, Bogyman, Nursery Bogie, and many more

In its broadest definition, a bogey, bogeyman, or nursery bogie is any monster whose purpose is to scare children into good behavior. In turn, bogeys can punish different kinds of behavior, or even attack without provocation; they can be the cause of unexplained events or be in league with parents; they can be linked to specific areas, or show up on feast days and holidays. Any creature can be a bogey, with the only restriction being their use as a warning (i.e. “don’t go outside at midday or snakes will bite you”). Bogeys are probably the most ancient and widespread of creatures, and will continue to thrive as long as creative parents and gullible children exist. The proliferation of characters such as Slenderman is further proof of these child-snatchers’ enduring appeal.

The Bag Man is the classical bogey. Variations on a man (or woman, or monster) carrying a sack or basket can be found wherever bogeys exist. They are large, hirsute, and fanged. Often they have horns and cloven hooves, the remnants of their origin as demons and devils. Sometimes they are described in ethnically-charged terms, and named after feared and otherized minorities. Bag Men seek out unruly children and stuff them into their bag, carrying them away for punishment – usually devouring them. The Bag Man is most commonly known as the Bogeyman in English-speaking areas. In France he is the Croquemitaine, but also Bras de Fer, Lustucru, Moine Bourru… The French Babou is no doubt one and the same as the Italian Babau. Spanish-speaking countries contend with El Coco, while Arabic-speakers fear Abou Kees (“Man with a Bag”, literally “Bag Father”). In southern Africa the basket bearer becomes the Isitwalangcengce, a hyena-like creature whose head is the basket in which children are carried off. The Southern Californian Haakapainiži is an enormous grasshopper with a basket on his back.

Christmas Bogeys are an offshoot of Bag Men, often sharing many characteristics with them but restricting themselves to Christmas festivities. The likes of Père Fouettard in France, Krampus in Germany, Zwarte Pieter in Holland, and many others besides intimidate children into good behavior. The other major archetype of festive bogey is the Witch, and she usually works alone. The Italian Befana rewards and punishes children accordingly at the festival of Epiphany. The hag Chauchevieille attacks the unfaithful who skip midnight mass on Christmas Eve. Frau Gaude drives a pack of hellhounds through town on Christmas Eve. The Guillaneu of the Vendée rides a headless and tailless horse on the New Year. Trotte-Vieille of the Haute-Saone impales naughty children on her long horns, but can be placated with a cauldron of hot broth on the doorstep. In Lucerne, Straeggel shaves the heads of girls who have not finished their tasks on the last Wednesday before Christmas. The legacy of Christmas bogeys lives on today throughout the Western world, as children are taught to believe in a hairy man dressed in red and carrying a large bag; this man enters houses unbidden and judges children on their behavior, and accepts small offerings of cookies.

Another class of bogeys can be described as “interdictory” or “guardian” bogeys, frequenting certain dangerous areas and dissuading children from going there. One of these is the Green-toothed Hag, found mostly in Britain. There is Grindylow in Yorkshire; Jenny Greenteeth in Lancashire; Nellie Longarms in Cheshire, Derbyshire, and Shropshire; Peg Powler between Yorkshire and Durham, but also other such characters as Marrabbecca, who lives in Sicilian wells. They have long arms, sharp green teeth, and straggly hair, and drag children into stagnant pools to be devoured. The Hook Man is another such archetype, including the sinister Jan Haak of Holland whose large hook pulls children underwater. Water-horses such as Mourioche in Brittany also do their job in keeping riverbanks and beaches deserted. In the Ardennes, the waterways are guarded by the crustacean Traîcousse and the bulky lizardlike Mahwot’; the Karnabo’s eerie whistling sounds from abandoned slate quarries. The Biloko of the Congo gruesomely devour anyone who ventures into the deep jungle; the Colombian Abúhuwa and West African Dodo fill a similar role.

Yet other bogeys are harder to categorize. The Bells of Wallonia, whose ringing causes children to freeze in the middle of whatever grimace they are making. The Camacrusa of Gascony is a disembodied leg that eats children. Scandinavian Church Grims haunt places of worship. The Wallonian Colôrobètch nips children and inflicts them with frostbite. In Russia, the Domovoi and his associates can be used by parents for more sinister purposes. Gatta Marella is a nightmarish alpine cat. Lamiae and Striges are nocturnal predators of children in Greece. Used floorboards (lattes usées) in Mons and Tournai, France, become Latusés, bogeys that keep children out of the attic. The reptilian Whowie and the froglike Yara-ma-yha-who are invoked in Australia.

All of which goes to prove that, when it comes to the art of frightening children, humanity has no equal.

References

Callaway, C. (1868) Nursery Tales, Traditions, and Histories of the Zulus. Trübner and Co., London.

Canobbio, S. () “Se non fai il bravo viene…” A proposito degli spauracchi per bambini. In Les Etres Imaginaires dans les Recits des Alpes. Imprimerie ITLA, Aoste.

Dubois, P.; Sabatier, C.; and Sabatier, R. (1992) La Grande Encyclopédie des Lutins. Hoëbeke, Paris.

Dubois, P.; Sabatier, C.; and Sabatier, R. (1996) La Grande Encyclopédie des Fées. Hoëbeke, Paris.

Dubois, P.; Sabatier, C.; and Sabatier, R. (2005) The Complete Encyclopedia of Elves, Goblins, and Other Little Creatures. Abbeville Press.

van Hageland, A. (1973) La Mer Magique. Marabout, Paris.

Heiniger, P. Les Formes du Noir. In Loddo, D. and Pelen, J. (eds.) (2001) Êtres fantastiques des régions de France. L’Harmattan, Paris.Lambot, J. (1987) L’Ardenne. Pierre Mardaga, Brussels.

Knappert, J. (1971) Myths and Legends of the Congo. Heinemann Educational Books, London.Rose, C. (2000) Giants, Monsters, and Dragons. W. W. Norton and Co., New York.

Laird, C. (1976) The Chemehuevis. Malki Museum Press, Morongo Indian Reservation, Banning.

Lawson, J. C. (1964) Modern Greek Folklore: A Study in Survivals. University Books.

Sébillot, P. (1882) Traditions et superstitions de la Haute-Bretagne. Maisonneuve et Cie, Paris.

Tijskens, J. (1965) Les Noms du Croquemitaine en Wallonie. Enquêtes du Musée de la Vie Wallonne, nos. 117-120, tome X, pp. 257-391.

Tremearne, A. J. N. (1913) Hausa Superstitions and Customs. J. Bale and Sons and Danielsson, Ltd., London.

Variations: Āpep, Āapep, Aaapef, Apophis, Rerek; further names from the Papyrus of Nesi-Amsu listed by Budge are Nesht, Tutu, Hau-hra, Hemhemti, Qettu, Qerneru, Iubani, Amam, Hem-taiu, Saatet-ta, Khermuti, Kenememti, Sheta, Serem-taui, Sekhem-hra, Unti, Karau-anememti, Khesef-hra, Seba-ent-seba, Khak-ab, Khan-ru… uaa, Nai, Am, Turrupa, Iubau, Uai, Kharubu the Four Times Wicked, Sau, Beteshu

Apep, Āapep, or Apophis in Greek, is the chief chthonic monster in the Egyptian cosmogony, born during the dark times of the First Intermediate Period and depicted as an enormous serpent with winding coils or alternatively as a giant crocodile, or with a human head and hands as in the Stele of Taqayna. He is described as being a hundred and twenty cubits (55 meters) long, or otherwise thirty cubits (14 meters) long, with the first eight cubits made of flint and with coils like sandbanks, lying on a sandbank 450 cubits (205 meters) long.

Apep is darkness, cloud, wind, rain, mist, and storm. The antithesis of light and life, his primary goal is the destruction of the sun god Ra and his solar barque, causing the elimination of light and day and the victory of chaos and darkness. Assisted by a retinue of lesser demons and serpents – the mesu betshet or “children of rebellion”, the snakes Seba, Af, and Nak, and the crocodile Seshsesh – he hides under the earth and below the horizon, and attempts to swallow Ra’s barque every night. Ra, aided by his cortège of gods, thwarts Apep’s attempts time and time again, allowing the sun to rise once more. Occasionally Apep gains the upper hand, causing storms, earthquakes, and solar eclipses, but those end as Ra is cut free from Apep’s stomach. The serpent’s inevitable fate is to be chopped up into pieces and cast back into the abyss, but he always returns the following night, as full of malice and venom as ever, in an endless cycle of destruction.

In a mythology revolving around the sun, Apep, sworn enemy of Ra, darkness personified, is as evil a creature as could exist in the Egyptian pantheon. Some degree of respect was granted him; the Hyksos pharaoh Apepi (r. 1590 – 1550 BCE) took him as his namesake, in a perverse move likely intended to instill fear in the native Egyptians. As a deity, he was never worshipped, but always avoided, spited and mutilated in effigy during natural disasters.

The apotropaic “Book of Overthrowing Apep” (4^th century BCE) provides helpful instructions for the faithful, including exhortations for “Spitting on Apep”, “Trampling on Apep with the Left Foot”, “Taking the Knife to Smite Apep”, “Taking the Lance to Smite Apep”, “Putting Apep on the Fire”, “Fettering Apep”, and other such activities. The Book of the Dead features the soul of the deceased piercing Apep, praying for aid in destroying Apep at the apex of his power. Apep’s gruesome punishment is described at length – he is to be speared, stabbed with knives, each bone of his body separated by red-hot knives, scorched, roasted, and consumed by fire. Each name of Apep had to be cursed separately, and the Papyrus of Nesi-Amsu lists the serpent’s many names.

In time the role of Apep as the enemy of the Sun overlapped with that of the desert god Set, once the primary defender of the solar barque from Apep’s depredations, such that Apepi is described in ca. 1274 BCE as a monolatrous worshipper of Set.

References

Aldington, R. and Ames, D. trans.; Guirand, F. (1972) New Larousse Encyclopedia of Mythology. Paul Hamlyn, London.

Ames, D. trans. (1965) Egyptian Mythology. From Mythologie Generale Larousse. Paul Hamlyn, London.

Budge, E. A. W. (1913) The Papyrus of Ani: a reproduction in facsimile, vol. I. G. P. Putnam, New York.

Budge, E. A. W. (1913) The Papyrus of Ani: a reproduction in facsimile, vol. II. G. P. Putnam, New York.

Budge, E. A. W. (2015) The Gods of the Egyptians, vol. I. Dover Publications Inc., New York.

Budge, E. A. W. (2015) The Gods of the Egyptians, vol. II. Dover Publications Inc., New York.

ElSebaie, S. M. (2000) The destiny of the world: a study on the end of the universe in the light of ancient Egyptian texts. M.A. diss., University of Toronto.

Faulkner, R. O. (1937) The Bremner-Rhind Papyrus: III: D. The Book of Overthrowing Apep. The Journal of Egyptian Archaeology 23, no. 2, pp. 166-185.

Simpson, W. K., Faulkner, R. O., and Wente, E. F. (2003) The Literature of Ancient Egypt. Yale University Press, New Haven.

Turner, P. (2012) Seth – a misrepresented god in the ancient Egyptian pantheon? PhD diss., University of Manchester.

Wilkinson, R. H. (2003) The Complete Gods and Goddesses of Ancient Egypt. Thames and Hudson, London.

Variations: Akhlut (erroneously)

Around the coastlines of the Bering Strait, pack ice constantly breaks off and floats away. If there are wolf tracks on the ice, and a chunk of that breaks loose, then it looks as if the prints lead into the water’s edge, or as if a wolf came out of the sea. Yupik folklore holds that this is evidence of the Kăk-whăn’-û-ghăt Kǐg-û-lu’-nǐk.

A kăk-whăn’-û-ghăt kǐg-û-lu’-nǐk is a killer whale (akh’-lut) that can shapeshift at will into a wolf (kǐg-û-lu’-nǐk) to hunt on land. The name of kăk-whăn’-û-ghăt kǐg-û-lu’-nǐk is applied to those creatures when in wolf form. They are aggressive and will kill humans if given the chance.

The kăk-whăn’-û-ghăt kǐg-û-lu’-nǐk is typically depicted as halfway through its transformation – whale at one end and wolf at the other. The beluga whale and caribou are a similarly symbiotic pair, becoming a whale in the sea and a reindeer on land.

References

Nelson, E. W. (1900) The Eskimo about Bering Strait. Extract from the Eighteenth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology, Government Printing Office, Washington.

Today’s obscure modern monster comes from the pages of Thorgal, a fantasy/science-fiction BD series by Jean van Hamme and Grzegorz Rosinski. In it our titular hero Thorgal Aegirsson, a space-faring alien raised as a Viking (long story), and his long-suffering wife Aaricia face insurmountable odds and enemies like the brutal Viking chieftain Gandalf-the-Mad, the sleazy Volsung of Nichor, the sinister Shardar of Brek Zarith, Nidhogg the Serpent, and, of course, Kriss of Valnor. You get the idea.

In Géants (Giants), one of his many adventures, Thorgal finds himself on a journey to Jotunheim in order to recover the memories he lost in the Invisible Fortress (long story). His guide, a Valkyrie, drops him off at the border and warns him of the Guardian. So, for our purposes this story begins here, with Thorgal exploring the barren wastes surrounding the land of the Giants.

That’s when he is hailed by an unfamiliar voice…

… and he turns around to find a sort of fluffy shih-tzu type critter, clearly demanding that Our Hero show some ID and justify his existence.

Naturally Thorgal is enamored of the cute doggo, and obligingly gives it head skritches on demand. He asks if the creature is the guardian, whereupon it responds that we are the guardian.

That’s right, the little furballs are everywhere.

“They’re so cute!” exclaims Our Hero. “I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting such a charming welcome…”

D:

D8

Of course Thorgal manages to escape by the skin of his teeth and goes on to his exploits among the giants, which include befriending a not-so-little girl and escaping the clutches of a two-headed falcon (long story). For the return journey he benefits from the same cop-out ride home started by Tolkien, namely eagles a Valkyrie swan. The poor Guardian is left thoroughly nonplussed.

I feel your pain, little head.