Happy Birthday Owl

First Footage Ever Of Uncontacted Mashco-Piro Indians

Exclusive: Kicking A Stump

Anonymous Message: Operation Kill Facebook

here is a transcript:

Attention citizens of the world,

We wish to get your attention, hoping you heed the warnings as follows:
Your medium of communication you all so dearly adore will be destroyed. If you are a willing hacktivist or a guy who just wants to protect the freedom of information then join the cause and kill facebook for the sake of your own privacy.

Facebook has been selling information to government agencies and giving clandestine access to information security firms so that they can spy on people from all around the world. Some of these so-called whitehat infosec firms are working for authoritarian governments, such as those of Egypt and Syria.

Everything you do on Facebook stays on Facebook regardless of your "privacy" settings, and deleting your account is impossible, even if you "delete" your account, all your personal info stays on Facebook and can be recovered at any time. Changing the privacy settings to make your Facebook account more "private" is also a delusion. Facebook knows more about you than your family. http://www.physorg.com/news170614271.htmlhttp://itgrunts.com/2010/10/07/facebook-steals-numbers-and-data-from-your-iph....

You cannot hide from the reality in which you, the people of the internet, live in. Facebook is the opposite of the Antisec cause. You are not safe from them nor from any government. One day you will look back on this and realise what we have done here is right, you will thank the rulers of the internet, we are not harming you but saving you.

The riots are underway. It is not a battle over the future of privacy and publicity. It is a battle for choice and informed consent. It's unfolding because people are being raped, tickled, molested, and confused into doing things where they don't understand the consequences. Facebook keeps saying that it gives users choices, but that is completely false. It gives users the illusion of and hides the details away from them "for their own good" while they then make millions off of you. When a service is "free," it really means they're making money off of you and your information.

Think for a while and prepare for a day that will go down in history. November 5 2011, #opfacebook . Engaged.

This is our world now. We exist without nationality, without religious bias. We have the right to not be surveilled, not be stalked, and not be used for profit. We have the right to not live as slaves.

We are anonymous
We are legion
We do not forgive
We do not forget
Expect us

Heterosexual Pride Day In Brazil?

3 million people get their gay on, for Sao-Paulo's gay pride festival every year. There are now plans for the first Heterosexual Pride Day, it still needs to be okay'ed by the mayor, then its party on for everyone.

The Brazilian Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Association told the press that this new parade is making itself to be a moral parade, and attacking those whom are gay "The celebration of heterosexual pride is inappropriate because it belittles the just cause of the LGBT community...Unlike homosexuals, heterosexuals are not discriminated against simply for being heterosexuals."

We here at MRHP, say gay, straight, bi, tortoise or elephant,whatever, this is the 21st century, we wear whatever shoes we want. And as some of us here are at MRHP are heterosexual, fuck it lets PARTY!Here is Buju Banton, who loves his straight dick ( Disclaimer: MRHP is not implying that Buju sucks his own cock every night)

Poetry Mix-up: Poe & de la Mare

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Is there anybody there?' said the Traveller,
Knocking on the moonlit door;
And his horse in the silence champed the grasses
Of the forest's ferny floor:
And a bird flew up out of the turret,
Above the Traveller's head
And he smote upon the door again a second time;
'Is there anybody there?' he said.

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'

But no one descended to the Traveller;
No head from the leaf-fringed sill
Leaned over and looked into his grey eyes,
Where he stood perplexed and still.
But only a host of phantom listeners
That dwelt in the lone house then
Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight
To that voice from the world of men:

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stair,
That goes down to the empty hall,
Hearkening in an air stirred and shaken
By the lonely Traveller's call.
And he felt in his heart their strangeness,
Their stillness answering his cry,
While his horse moved, cropping the dark turf,
'Neath the starred and leafy sky;

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'

For he suddenly smote on the door, even
Louder, and lifted his head:-
'Tell them I came, and no one answered,
That I kept my word,' he said.
Never the least stir made the listeners,
Though every word he spake
Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house
From the one man left awake:

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!

Ay, they heard his foot upon the stirrup,
And the sound of iron on stone,
And how the silence surged softly backward,
When the plunging hoofs were gone.

Knackers

The last home in a horses life the yard of the knacker, from there they will be rendered and used for a variety of purposes such as lard and tallow

Rare Unseen Father Ted Footage From Season 3

Alas, we never got  a third season of Father Ted due to the untimely demise of Dermot Morgan. Nevertheless, here is a taste of what they may have had in store for us. 

Boy Pulled From Flaming Car

The SUV had collided with a tree and burst into flames trapping both a mother and her son, two off-duty firemen and one off-duty police officer managed to free the mother but the child remained trapped, with the flames getting closer the child was saved and is expected to make a full recovering. 

New Footage of China Train Crash

Religious Mice Humour

Krokodil: New Russian Drug (Warning Disturbing Images)

Krokodil, meaning crocodile is a drug running amok in Russia. It is a cheap and devastating alternative to the opiates that came before it. It is a drug that has come out of a dormant existence to a frenzied endemic within less than half a decade. It is way more potent than heroin and way cheaper too. Heroin costs roughly between from 25 euro to 70 euro per dose, the desomorphine that is "cooked" from codeine painkillers cost as little as 2 euro per pack. To produce the desomorphine (the medical name of Krokodil) all you have to do is mix the codeine from painkillers with paint thinner, iodine, red phosphorous (scraped from striking pads on matchboxes), hydrochloric acid, and gasoline.

As these images testify, the drug can be disfiguring, even escaping it will leave lifelong scars. When it is injected there a multiple consequences. As the crocodile nickname suggests, the skin of the addict becomes a gangrenous green and scaly. Gangrene and amputations occur then, porous bone tissues suffer in places such as the the lower jaw, creating a vacuum, as they are eaten up by the substances acidity.

Life expectancy is 2-3 years for those addicted to it. A Dr Yegorov spoke about the distinct, pungent smell of Krokodil users "It's that smell of iodine that infuses all their clothes...There's no way to wash it out, all you can do is burn the clothes. Any flat that has been used as a krokodil cooking house is best forgotten about as a place to live. You'll never get that smell out of the flat."

Greedy and evil pharmaceutical companies realizing that they are selling a fuck load of painkiller lobbied the government to veto making codeine painkillers proscription based. Zhenya who knows his shit, explains how the cheapness of krokodil means literally everyone is using instead of heroin, "You can feel how disgusting it is when you're doing it. You're dreaming of heroin, of something that feels clean and not like poison. But you can't afford it, so you keep doing the krokodil. Until you die."

I will leave you with one last video. I warn you, do not watch this if you do not want to see more of the horrors shown in the photographs earlier of the drug's victims.

Walls Talking Dog - Strange Sausage Roll Adverts

I have been inundated with these strange ads ever since my arrival in London. Over time they have grown on me and I often find myself wishing that someone presented me with a miniature dog playing a tiny keyboard. In the meantime I have these two ads to keep the dream alive.

Worst Massacres In History

With the timely arrest of the Serbian Ratko Mladic, it's important to reflect and remember why this man was hunted down and what he was responsible for. It's also important to remember the other horrific genocides of the 20th century so as they are never repeated again. Even now the Syrian dictatorship is murdering it's civilians as they protest for freedom and civil liberties. Here is a list of the the ten worst genocides, there are many more and there have also been many more throughout the so called civilized years that humans have held on the earth. 

Mao Ze Dong- China and Tibet 49-78 million people.

Jozef Stalin- USSR- 23 million people. 

Adolf Hitler- Europe- 12 million people.

Leopold II of Belgium- Congo- 8 million people.

Hideki Tojo- Japan- 5 million people.

Ismael Enver- Armenian and Greece- 2 million people.

Pol Pot- Cambodia- 1.7 million people.

Kim Il Sung- North Korea-1.6 million people.

Menghitsu- Ethiopia- 1.5 million people. 

Yakubu Gowon- Biafra- 1 million people.

These horrific crimes should never be forgotten so that they never happen again. 

Fuck Off, I'm The Queen!

Well after a long sabbatical we have finally gotten around to posting up another random youtube video. So drink up and enjoy :-) Apologies for the lack of Nicholas Cage screaming...

Five Things You Probably Didn't Know About Osama Bin Laden

Okay well firstly, if you have been living in a cave or out of the loop for the last few hours, Osama Bin Laden is dead.

1. Did you know his mother was the tenth wife of his father Mohammed Bin Laden, they would later divorce. 

2. He is believed to have fathered around 25-26 children.

3. His father died when his American pilot misjudged a landing in Saudi Arabia and his oldest brother died when he flew his plane into power lines in Texas.

4. As a result of these deaths he inherited over 300million dollars.

5. Although he was believed to be 6 foot 4" or more many interviewers have maintained that he was in fact not actually that tall. 

Now you know, let's hope he is dead and it all isn't just a propagandist PR stunt. 

Thor Versus Hulk Old School

The Importance Of Being Wrong

A Must See TED Talk: John Hunter on the World Peace Game

If this was how I had been educated and those around me I can't help but think what social, political, philosophical and technological advances we may have already made. An inspiring insight into how educating the next generation should be approached. Todays and yesterdays autonomous generations have messed up badly, we have to teach the next generation from a very early age the mistakes of their parents and grandparents so they don't mess up to.  

A Dream Theory Of Protoconsciousness

Dream Life: An experimental memoir, is a new book by psychiatrist and dream researcher J. Allan Hobson wherein he explores his dream theory of protoconsciousness. Tiffany O'Callaghan from New Scientist interviews Hobson on his intriguing new dream theory:

Why did you choose to write an "experimental memoir"?

I think it's interesting to consider both autobiographical details and biological phenomena. Since my life's work has been of that nature, I wanted to emphasise the importance of both.

What is your dream theory of protoconsciousness?

In 2008 I was preparing a lecture and I realised I was still thinking of dreaming as an unconscious mental process, and that that was wrong. The minute I threw out the Freudian idea that dreaming is derivative of waking experience was when I could see it for what it probably is - a prediction about waking experience.

REM sleep is antecedent to waking. It occurs in utero. Now, you can't tell me that's because you're trying to get rid of infantile wishes. It means that dreaming has a developmental function. It is also something that occurs relatively late in evolution: if you don't have a thalamus and cortex, you don't have REM sleep, despite the fact that it's a brainstem function.

REM sleep is in the service of brain function that will ultimately lead to waking consciousness. My theory is that dreaming is not a replay of memory. It is a "preplay" of perception.

Why did you abandon the idea that dreaming is unconscious?

I had to ask myself, why do I say it's an unconscious mental process? The answer was because I'm still a Freudian, even though I've been trying to get over it. The philosopher Willard Quine once told me I belong to Freudians Anonymous. It's true, and it's not just me: I think everyone is addicted to Freudian misconceptions. We've got to take all of these received ideas more seriously, and then take them apart.

How did you become disillusioned with psychoanalysis?

In the first two weeks of my psychiatry residency in 1960, I thought I'd see that my doubts about psychoanalysis had been mistaken. But it was just the opposite. I was told, "There must be something wrong with you if you're asking all of these questions." My chief suggested I really believed in science. I said, "That's ridiculous. I don't believe in science; science is our defence against belief." Science is institutional scepticism. We need to ask these questions.

Yet some people still hold to psychoanalysis?

Psychoanalytic theory is popular because it's easy to understand, but I think it's wrong. I don't think dreams are caused by the release of repressed infantile wishes. There's nothing scientific about psychoanalysis, there's nothing scientific about Sigmund Freud. He didn't do a single experiment, he didn't do any direct observation, he used no controls. The guy was out to lunch.

You argue we should move toward a "science of subjectivity". What is that and what makes it worthwhile?

Subjective experience is a methodological approach to studying the brain: look, keep accurate records and then analyse them. That's how we discovered "dream bizarreness". Everyone said that dreams were bizarre, but nobody really knew what that meant. It doesn't mean you see monsters or that you can fly, but that times, places and persons change without notice in dreams. I think there are other ways this will play out when people take the science of subjectivity seriously.

Where should research into dreams go from here?

One of the main problems is in understanding the brain imaging data in terms of cellular and molecular activity - there's a big gap there.