The 14 Most Unintentionally Terrifying Statues in the World

Damn, we should have done a whole article just about baby-murder statues. The Kindlifresserbrunnen, or Child-Eater, fountain of Bern was built way back in the 16th century. And really, it looks like pretty standard fountainry when you're walking by it:

Hell, from here you can barely tell that the top depicts a man snacking on a bag of babies. Probably why the artist named it "Child Eater," just to make sure you got his point.

And we say "probably" because nobody seems to know the exact story -- whatever grand point the statue was supposed to be making has been lost to time. But the artist went all-out, from the horrified, desperate expressions of the remaining uneaten babies to the legion of armed bears that stand guard around the fountain's base ...

... to the fact that at least one of them is sporting a clearly visible erection.

That mind-boggling, giant turd-on-a-stick is called Cocozao. It's located in the unfortunate town of Ponta Grossa, and Google Translate tells us it's actually supposed to represent a local tree called the Araucaria pine. For reference, here's an Araucaria pine:

Yeah, Brazil. That's totally what it is.

For the surprisingly large portion of our readers who are already packing for a pilgrimage to pay respects to the Ultimate Poop Joke, we regret to inform you that the people of Ponta Grossa finally came to their senses in 2009 and demolished the statue. As a small consolation, however, they opted to do it like this:

... says that's exactly what you're looking at.

This is the work of David Cerny, an artist hailed by half his peers as a controversial genius and scorned by the other half as an utter dickhole. This won't be his only stop on this list.

The statues' dongs are robotic, so they actually move. They piss shapes in the water, and you can also make them piss a phrase of your own by sending an SMS to a pay number. And Cerny got someone to agree to that. And by the way, this was not even his most ridiculous penis-related project. He was once very, very close to being able to make the Czech National Theatre look like this:

That piece was going to be called "Nation to Itself Forever," a 30-foot golden man ejaculating steam at random intervals. It unfortunately got canceled just prior to installation, which we assume means Cerny was forced to pay up on a bet he made to another artist years ago about just how much shit he could get away with before someone stopped writing him checks.

Fortunately, this is not Prague's only artistic tribute to Kafka. There's also this ...

Yes, for some reason or another, they figured that the best way to honor Kafka was by erecting a statue featuring a giant skull getting intimate with a subservient male figure at a major tourist attraction (Prague Castle's Daliborka Tower). They say this is based on a character in Kafka's books, and although we can't call ourselves experts on Kafka, we have a hard time believing any of his major characters were ever prison-raped by Skeletor's disembodied head.

Hey, let's check it out from the back:

Seriously, there are some sights that are not meant to be seen when casually tourist-hiking, and one of them is definitely a bronze scrotum. Which, by the way, appears to have been crushed flat with a mallet.

In case you've never suffered the symptoms of heroin withdrawal and still don't see the problem, let's try taking the camera up front, and get a view of their adorable little faces ...

AAAAAAAAAAA!

Those crawling nightmares are also the work of David Cerny, by the way. But he can't be blamed for ...

If there's just one place in the world where you could safely take your pious old grandmother, it would no doubt be Nuremberg, the German town where some of the earliest bound Bibles were made and some really evil people were finally brought to justice. And what would be a better sight than the famous Nuremberg Fountain of Virtues, made all the way back in 1589, when an iron caster decided to make a fountain that represented the three theological and three cardinal virtues as women ...

... NO, GRANDMA! DON'T LOOK!

Yes, who would have thought that the ultimate virtue in the 16th century was considered to be high-pressure lactation? Not you and your no-longer-in-Grandma's-will ass, that's for sure. And in case you think this was one random bad statue idea, head over to Bologna, Italy, and take a gander at the deceptively named Neptune fountain:

All right, Renaissance-period sculptor guy, that's even less biologically believable than the last one. What's wrong with your women, Europe? How the hell did any of your children make it through the breast-feeding phase?

Enterprise, Ala., is your average, prosperous, polite Southern town that has gained a measure of notoriety for its supposedly rather eccentric central statue. We don't really see what makes it so special, though. See, it's just your average neoclassical statue of a robed lady holding up a WHAT THE SHIT IS THAT?

The Boll Weevil Monument is the town's testament to the critter that destroyed the area's cotton crops in 1915. The reason behind this is understandable: The event made the townspeople convert to farming much more lucrative peanuts. What the town has decided to ignore, however, is the fact that the Boll Weevil Monument happens also to be a statue for honoring a beetle that fucked over the whole South during the Great Depression and can thus claim responsibility for countless deaths. Hold that torch up, Enterprise! Hold that torch up high!

Point Pleasant, W.Va., is one of those innumerable sleepy, anonymous little towns that make up the heartland of America. And, where some towns would decorate the town square with a statue of George Washington or Jebediah Springfield, Point Pleasant has what appears to be Robo-Mothra, waiting to take on Godzilla.

Actually, that's the no-less-stupid Mothman, a mythical creature rumored to live in an abandoned TNT factory near the town and linked to a centuries-old curse, as the townspeople (at least those who are willing to discuss this at all) will happily explain to you. And what better way to celebrate the town's unique legend than a 12-foot-tall, silvery form made of red eyes and murder? And a manly thatch of chest hair?

The Denver International Airport has something no other airport in the world has. Or, for that matter, wants. It's a statue of a horse called El Mesteno, and its demonic gaze is the very first thing greeting you when you step out of the airport building:

Hey, did we mention that it's 32 feet tall?

El Mesteno, or "oh shit run it's the giant hellhorse" as it is more affectionately known, is the gatekeeper between you and Denver, and the price for getting any further is your soul. Which it incidentally took the second it laid those eyes on you, so you now have nothing to bargain with.

Yeah, we're thinking the people in charge of erecting El Mesteno probably should've taken the hint when it straight-up killed its sculptor.

It's an insane-looking 100-foot giant (is that Uncle Sam?) screaming its lungs out while struggling against the ground. Is this supposed to symbolize America, hopelessly struggling against quicksand? It's called The Awakening, but we're assuming that's referring to the awakening of whatever subterranean creature is dragging the old man under.

Jesus, look at that thing! You have to wonder how the logic behind building this one went.

"You know what's missing from the park?"
"No, what?"
"A three-story eyeball!"
"Come again now?"
"You heard me. Get to it."
"But-"
"Yes, Azathoth the Great Conqueror will be pleased."
"Wait, what?"
"Oh, nothing. Just a cough. Now get to it."

The real horror of EYE is that you can't escape it -- it's not permanently affixed to any one spot. It's in Pritzker Park in Chicago today; tomorrow it could be in your city. It's a moving exhibition that is transported from park to park. So one night you're heading home after a big night out and you take a shortcut to your house through a familiar park, only to find yourself face to face with the 30-foot eye of Sauron. Staring. Judging.

If you're in Rotterdam, you might as well take some time to see that famous 18-foot statue of Santa Claus you've been told about. But then you round the corner and see ... this.

Not only does his "tree" look like a sex toy that's ready to give you the gift of an embarrassing trip to the emergency room, but damn if that bell doesn't look like a bottle, too. Hell, this thing might just as well be renamed "the Ghost of that one and, incidentally, only Christmas when it was Uncle Henry's turn to be Santa." The statue of Santa Claus by Paul McCarthy was welcomed with open arms and installed by the Rotterdam city council, none of whom saw anything wrong it. However, it took the public roughly 0.63 seconds to give the statue the loving nickname Kabouter Buttplug.