To be fair, our dad drove like this on American highways each and every summer vacation.

Now picture this madness, but with someone driving in the opposite direction into oncoming traffic. On purpose. That's a geisterfahrer.

Why would anyone do something so objectively insane? Well, some ghost drivers do it for nothing more than the lulz, bruh. Others are straight-up suicidal, such as the ghost driver who very nearly vehicularly manslaughtered the governor of Bavaria. In all honesty, this was a very Bavarian thing to do.

Of course, the German government couldn't officially have the world thinking that their highways are haunted by a bunch of reckless ghost motorists, so they decided to try and come up with a different name: falschfahrer, or "wrong drivers." This is admittedly a much less frightening phrase, but when you're trying to convey to tourists that your supersonic roadway is occasionally plagued by maniacs trying to cause head-on collisions at hundreds of miles an hour, maybe frightening is what you want.

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The point is, anyone stuck in these camps was probably thinking about escape more than half of the time. The problem with escape, beyond somehow getting past all the armed guards, was the fact that most of these camps were located out in the middle of frozen fucking nowhere. So even if you didn't get shot by snipers or torn apart by dogs while trying to escape, you would still wind up dying of exposure or starvation somewhere in the Siberian tundra like Jack Nicholson in The Shining.

Resourceful inmates soon had a splendid solution for this, however. While they couldn't exactly pack a boxed lunch for their escape, they could pack something even more nourishing that -- best of all! -- didn't even need to be carried. We're referring, of course, to a korova: some simple-hearted, trusting (and preferably chubby) fellow inmate whom you invited to join your escape. Then, once you both made it out and into the icy wastelands, this sorry dupe became an unwitting slaughter animal, much like an actual cow.

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And in case you're not already gurgling out a horrified gasp through a barely contained mouthful of vomit, keep in mind that trudging across a frozen desert makes starting a fire damn near impossible. Therefore, the parts of a korova that were eaten were only those that could be consumed raw (like the kidneys), and washed down with a generous swig of warm blood from his gouting arteries. And all of this just so you can escape back to your life in Soviet Russia.

Now, normally, the bushido code prevented this right from transforming into a license to engage in killing sprees. But the samurai, as with any group, had their fair share of rule-abusing dickholes. This asshole contingent of the samurai pushed kiri-sute gomen to its absolute extreme by practicing tsujigiri, or "crossroads killings." Disappointingly, this had nothing to do with Bone Thugs-N-Harmony, because Bone Thugs-N-Harmony hadn't been invented yet.

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Tsujigiri is when a samurai would take his gleaming, murder-thirsty sword, wander out onto the road at night, and slash to death the first person who passed them. Because it turns out that giving a bunch of dudes swords and armor and carte blanche to do whatever the hell they please can be a catastrophically terrible idea.

Means: turning your daughter-in-law into your personal sex slave.

To understand the horrific family constellation that is snokhachestvo, we must first travel back in time to the Russian Empire. More precisely, to the Cossack villages on the eastern brim of Europe, at the very fringes of civilization. Families lived on tiny farms where everyone -- man, woman, and child -- had to work their fingers to the bone just to get by. To alleviate some of the burden, it was a widespread custom to force the boys of the house into early marriage, because then the new wife could move in and essentially become the real-life Cinderella of the household ("real-life Cinderella" is a term here meaning "domestic slave"). Stranded in a house full of complete strangers, she would be bullied around and expected to do all the shit jobs that even people who work shit jobs for a living don't want to do -- including having sex with her husband's father.

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Many family patriarchs soon realized that having a young woman in the house who was basically required to do whatever you told her to do was an irresistible target for grotesque sexual assault. The sons couldn't provide much in the way of protection, because they were usually either still children or off serving in the military, so the father could have his way with his daughter-in-law to his creepy old heart's content. Now, in 2015, this sounds like the kind of thing that would be all over the news as part of a shocking expose, but back then it was just a part of life that everyone was resigned to accept. Vladimir Dmitrievich Nabokov, a Russian journalist and newspaper editor, described snokhachestvo as such: "Nowhere, it seems, except Russia, has at least one form of incest assumed the character of an almost normal everyday occurrence, designated by the appropriate technical term."

Some scholars point out that snokhachestvo evolved into a specialized form of rape culture, where the humiliated sons perpetuated the practice once they had a family of their own. And when the practice was officially condemned by the Orthodox Church, the blame fell squarely on the shoulders of the daughter-in-law who had "sinned," rather than the father-in-law who had forced her to have sex with him, because history was just awful for women. For further proof ...

When it came time to give birth, the expectant mother retreated to a ditch and waited there for her progeny to come screaming out of her vagina. If the baby was a boy, she swaddled him up and returned proudly back to her friends and neighbors. If the child was a girl, the mother would simply leave the girl in the ditch and unceremoniously fill it with dirt, burying the baby alive on the spot and thus avoiding the nasty social consequences of having produced female offspring.

This abysmal practice continued until a certain famous women's rights activist and perpetrator of reason came along and catapulted Arabic society into modern times. We're of course talking about Muhammad, beard enthusiast and prophet extraordinaire, who had a thing or two to say about wa'ada. Well, just one thing, really, which can be paraphrased as "That's freaking crazy, please knock it off." The spread of Islam abolished the unholy practice and upgraded a woman's worth from "broodmare" to ... um, as good as one-fourth of a man, in marriage. Still, that's progress, right?

Heyer would like to thank everyone who made suggestions in the comments, especially reader Komsomoletz for finding snokhachestvo.

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