All of the people you're going to learn about here are honest, hard-working professionals (as far as we know). Some of them are looking for ways to spice up their trade, some are seeking artistic expression, and some simply want to while away their idle hours. But because of their exhaustive dedication to their hobbies, they will now be haunting your dreams for the foreseeable future.
Every doll collection is a little bit weird. We're sure your grandma is a lovely person, but no one should have that many dead eyes surveying their living room. So if you really want to stand out in this subculture, you need to go out of your way to build a deep, lingering sense of unease. Enter Etanis Gonzalez, a Venezuelan artist who said, "To hell with displaying our grim homunculi in dainty, teacup-laden environments. Let's go full horror!"
Gonzalez is so proud of his legions of decapitated terrors that he hangs them from his balcony like battered plastic gargoyles. According to the clean explanation which he shared with the press (you know, the one where he leaves out all the stuff about summoning rituals), this all started after he took some dolls from his daughter's room. Rather than accept that his daughter was growing up before his eyes, he decided to haunt his entire Caracas neighborhood for decades to come. Although to be fair, Caracas is one of the planet's most violent cities, and would you mess with a house that looked like this?
It only gets worse as you get closer.
Just look at those frozen, dusty smiles. It's like he gave them a soul right before dismembering them. Gonzalez says he's merely expressing himself, but some of his neighbors assumed he worshiped Satan and nicknamed his lair "The Balcony of a Thousand Heads." Rob Zombie is no doubt frantically working to acquire the film rights.
When you work with food, the last impression you want to give is that you might secretly be a cannibal. Thailand's Kittiwat Unarrom was apparently sick the day they taught that lesson at culinary school.
You're about to look at bread. Our word processor did not autocorrect "head" -- that's actually bread. We're developing a theory that Unarrom is suppressing a desire to kill, like Dexter crossed with Gordon Ramsay, but the official story is that he worked at his family-owned bakery from childhood, left to study fine arts, then returned to combine his two loves of bread and body horror. His business, called The Body Bakery, makes edible Walking Dead props using little more than dough, raisins, nuts, chocolate, and maybe the odd mysteriously vanished orphan. The results can be eerily convincing.
He's attracted an increasing number of tourists since opening. Which is good, because some people visit Thailand for the wrong reasons, and it's important to locate and arrest them.
The most impressive/disturbing detail is that many of his, uh, delicacies aren't even displayed like bread. Because who doesn't want to feel like you're buying your dinner from Hannibal Lecter?
Yeah, he's slowly working human flesh into his recipe until his customers are hooked, isn't he?
"Playing God" generally has negative connotations, but taxidermist Enrique Gomez de Molina has managed to make a terrifying living from it. Behold creations that would make Dr. Moreau nervously look around for the nearest exit:
Yes, those are all real pieces of real animals, stitched together to form God's greatest rejects. If you watched Annihilation and thought it was inspirational, then de Molina is the artist for you. Critics have a lot to say about how his art reflects life, death, and man's relationship with animals, but they only said those things once they stopped screaming.
De Molina himself says that "The impossibility of my sculpture brings me both joy and sadness at the same time. The joy comes from seeing and experiencing the Fantasy of the work but that is coupled with the sadness of the fact that we are destroying all of these beautiful things." He's also commented that he wants to bring awareness to the plight of endangered species and damage caused by pollution.
So there's an environmental message amidst the madness. Nothing wrong with that, right? But those beliefs didn't stop him from trafficking in the parts and remains of endangered and protected wildlife, including cobras and orangutans. Eventually, the law caught up with him and he had to spend 20 months in prison. Did we mention that he was making up to $80,000 a pop on his ill-gotten monsters? Maybe the greatest monster of all ... is man.
Adalberto Meneses is a Peruvian dentist, and owner of his own personal Human Bone Museum, making him terrifying in both his personal and professional lives.
He also worked as a professor for years, and was so beloved by his students that many of them expressed their gratitude via gifts of, uh, bones. You know, that they had kicking around. And alright, fine, everyone knows that doctors are used to seeing and touching corpses and skeletons. But most doctors don't like them as much as Meneses, who's turned them into all sorts of decorations, toys, and appliances.
You want a lamp made of human bone? Meneses has a bunch. How about teapots? Sure. Clocks? You got it.
Just think: Maybe one day, after you shed this mortal coil, someone will use your bones to make a disturbingly cute chicken sculpture. Just a possibility to look forward to.
Meneses' hobby even survived a 2011 police raid, presumably because there's no law in Peru against general villainy. Here's what he has to say about his creations: "I respect that they have been human beings but they are still with me, they have never bothered me, they have never done anything to me, I have not felt anything, I live with them here, I have not had any inconvenience with them." We're glad he found the most heartwarming way to make a question about the idea of disturbing the dead all about himself.
When it comes to building strong bonds with your children, few things help more than a shared hobby. Tokyo doctors Masaichi and Katsunari Fukushi are a remarkable example of that axiom. They had the same profession, the same skills, and above all, the same calling: preserving a vast collection of tattooed human bodysuits.
The elder Fukushi started studying tattoos out of an interest in their medical side effects, but he soon became fascinated by the art form. This was in the 1920s, when Japanese society was even more prejudiced against tattooed people than they are now. That didn't discourage the doctor's diligent attempts to mingle with tattoo artists and other marginalized people. He even offered financial help to several unfortunate men who couldn't afford the completion of their ambitious skin murals ... after bringing forth a Faustian deal that would allow him to collect their skin after their deaths.
Fukushi became a renowned expert on Japanese tattoos, although sadly (or mercifully, depending on how creeped out you are right now), his detailed catalogs of photos and notes on the life stories of his subjects were lost to American bombs in World War II. 105 of the actual skins survived, however, because a collection this terrifying isn't going to let a little thing like "world war" slow it down. When the good(?) doctor passed, his son took charge of the collection, and today it can be found at the Medical Pathology Museum of Tokyo University. The collection is not on display, though -- presumably because they're afraid of having, like, all the hauntings.
Support your favorite Cracked writers with a visit to our Contribution Page. Please and thank you.
For more, check out If Mobile Games Were Honest - Honest Ads (Android, iOS Parody):
Follow us on Facebook. Because why not?