Commissioner Victor DeYurre's office is being plagued by eerie happenings. A miniature coffin, containing hair, appeared on an assistant's desk. A door was defaced with a cross drawn in blood. Two of the commissioner's aides recently received anonymous voodoo-style dolls, with pins protruding from the tiny torsos. Each of the dolls wore a noose.
Maybe this stuff goes on at all city halls, but I doubt it. Even by Miami standards, a punctured voodoo doll is worthy of concern. DeYurre has downplayed the creepy incidents and remained calm. However, three veteran aides have abruptly departed his staff for other city jobs.
We don't know if the mystery doll-impaler was aiming his ire at DeYurre personally, but the possibility must be addressed. Criticism of politicians takes many forms, and a miniature coffin undoubtedly deserves more attention than a telegram.
South Florida's multicultured society offers a rich selection of hexes, spells and curses that could be unleashed on local officeholders. I can understand why disgruntled citizens might resort to blood scrawls and the like. Nothing else seems to work. Say Metro approves an ugly shopping center for your quiet suburban neighborhood. Say the swing vote on the zoning change was a commissioner who ignored all even-tempered letters and phone calls. How do you repay such betrayal? You either wait for the next election and vote the rascal out of office—or lay a heavy-duty hex on him now.
Buy a voodoo doll (about $5 at curio shops) and dress it up to resemble the offending politician. For authenticity, you should costume the doll with as much detail as possible. (For instance, if the target of your spell is Mayor Steve Clark, the doll should have a tiny little five-iron in its hands.)
The next step is choosing an appropriate curse. Hexing a governor or senator will require bigger medicine than hexing, say, an assistant city manager in Hialeah Gardens. For dosage information, amateur conjurers can consult many modern texts. A good one is Voodoo and Hoodoo by Jim Haskins, who culled centuries of folklore to document popular hexing customs.
A favored technique is to cut open the voodoo doll and sprinkle cayenne pepper inside. Sew the doll up with black thread. Then you tie its hands and place it in a kneeling position in a remote corner of the house. Says Haskins: "You may subject it to other indignities—kick it, blindfold it. Corresponding problems will befall the victim." More somber rites involve a small coffin, a black cat, a chicken and a glass of whiskey. Details are too gross to mention here, but suffice to say that the chicken and the cat get the worst of the deal.
A word of caution: When attempting black magic, please don't harm any innocent creatures. Not even a slug should lose its life because of Victor DeYurre, or any politician.
Most homespun spells are designed for wicked landlords, wayward spouses and greedy relatives. Improvisation is necessary to make them effective at city hall. Don't waste time sticking pins into your mayor-doll's back. Stick them into its pockets, to discourage graft.
Experts don't know if voodoo will become a potent political force in South Florida, but its use might be more widespread than suspected. Haskins writes of a tested ritual to cause mental confusion and temporary insanity:
"Obtain a piece of the intended victim's hair and singe it lightly over an open flame. Then bury it deep in the ground to cause him to lose his mind."
This one already has been tried, with obvious success. See for yourself. Visit the next Miami commission meeting.
Modern world puts evolution into reverse
July 6, 1995
Scientists are advancing a theory that human beings have stopped evolving because we've interfered with natural selection.
Thousands of years ago, the fittest of the species endured, while the weakest stumbled into tar pits or got eaten by saber-toothed tigers. That doesn't happen much anymore, and consequently—these experts assert—humans are actually devolving, getting dumber and less fit.
The hypothesis is bolstered by the popularity of daytime talk shows and psychic hotlines. More empirical evidence is supplied every Fourth of July, when alcohol and explosives are freely distributed among the populace.
It would've been an ideal day for geneticists and naturalists to have visited Dade County, where a water crisis became a startling biosocial experiment.
Here's what happened. Runoff from recent heavy rains dumped hazardous levels of fecal bacteria and other nasty microbes into the Oleta River and Biscayne Bay. Health officials quickly detected the contamination, and warned people to stay out of the water.
It was not a precipitous announcement. Swimming in sewage is dangerous, especially for children. Bacteria enter the human body through any orifice of convenience, and commence to make you sick as a dog.
A Ph.D. in microbiology is not necessary to grasp the concept: Clean water is good. Poopy water is bad.
Local newscasts aired the pollution warnings for days, and displayed detailed maps showing which areas were unsafe for swimming. By dawn's early light on July 4, it was reasonable to assume that almost everybody was aware of the problem, and had relocated their picnic plans to a safe beach.
Out of fairness, though, let's say a few sheltered souls remained clueless. Perhaps they didn't have a TV or radio.
Fair enough. You pile the family into the car and head across the Rickenbacker Causeway. You park along Hobie Beach, unload the coolers, smear on the sunscreen, dash for the water … and there it is.
A sign. DANGER, it says, in English and Spanish. Don't swim here. The water's contaminated!
Now comes the moment of truth. You can almost hear Darwin's ghost. Surely these morons aren't going swimming in THAT crap! Not with their kids! Not with a warning sign right in front of their face!
Wrong, Charlie baby.
Into Biscayne Bay they wade by the score, splashing among the playful E. coli germs. TV stations featured the footage as part of their upbeat Independence Day coverage.
To a scientist, the scene would seem irrefutable proof that the new theory is true—the human race is backsliding toward the primordial bog. At the very least, those swimmers should've been dragged from the water to have their chromosomes counted.
Eons ago, when man lived in caves, dumb moves were often fatal moves. The quick and the smart survived, the slow and the dimwitted didn't. If one member of the tribe ate a berry and died, the others henceforth avoided those darn berries.
Over time, humans advanced and grew sturdier.
Not anymore. Now we've got seat belts, air bags, antibiotics and stomach pumps to save fools from their own mistakes. That's all right. Caring for others is one of the nobler traits of our species.
The result, ironically, is that the genetic future of mankind isn't so rosy. Stragglers once culled from the herd now (in the absence of saber-toothed tigers) operate motor vehicles, watch Jerry Springer, cavort in pollution and even breed.
Darwin would be truly worried. The evolutionary gap between the bacteria and us is closing.
Give macho dogflghters real taste of action
January 18, 1996
As this is being written, a group of strangers—scientists, bystanders and tourists—are treading chilly water, trying to save some sick dolphins that beached near Stock Island at Key West.
The urge to help weaker creatures is one of the nobler traits of human beings. Unfortunately, the kindness gene is not omnipresent in mankind. In a few notably stunted specimens, a cruelty gene remains dominant.