Although Michael Jackson’s body shut down from a suspicious drug overdose five years and a week ago, worldwide interest in the misunderstood—and by all accounts, creepy—pop superstar’s legacy is still alive and thriving, as exemplified by the interest in last week’s interview about urban exploring Neverland Ranch. We got a number of requests to release the rest of the photos taken by our crack team of photographers, and we were like Sure, why not? So here they are. Keep a look out for the blue robot. You can’t make it out, but the inscription on the robot reads, “HI KIDS! MY NAME IS ZORD. I WANT TO BE YOUR FRIEND. I HAVE A SPECIAL SURPRISE PICKED JUST FOR YOU. THANK YOU AND BE GOOD!”
I guess we’ll never know what Zord’s “special surprise” was.
Cannibal Cop and the Freedom to Have Fucked-Up Fantasies
As every middle schooler knows, the internet is a repository of strange shit. A few casual keystrokes can take you to Goatse, Lemon Party, Cake Farts, and a dozen other weird porn memes. A few more clicks and you can find photos of mass graves, diseased genitals, rotting animal corpses teeming with maggots, open wounds festering and dripping with pus. Most hardened internet denizens laugh (or turn away in disgust) and move on when confronted with the web’s dark corners, but occasionally, people end up curling up inside them and making a home.
“Once the lies and the fantastical elements are stripped away, what is left are deeply disturbing misogynistic chats and emails written by an individual obsessed with imagining women he knows suffering horrific sex-related pain, terror and degradation,” Judge Paul Gardephe wrote in an opinion released Monday night that sided with the defense. “Despite the highly disturbing nature of Valle’s deviant and depraved sexual interests, his chats and emails about these interests are not sufficient—standing alone—to make out the elements of conspiracy to commit kidnapping.”
This Slaughterhouse Mural Is Really, Really Creepy
Photos by Nate Miller
Some tours of L.A. stop in a sketchy industrial area called Vernon to show people the bucolic murals on the walls of a Farmer John pork processing compound called Clougherty Packing Co. This is where the famousDodger Dogs come from. They also convert pigs into stuff like morning sausage and sliced ham for various West Coast grocery store chains.
When you see it from your car, the mural is a shock to the system. It’s clearly a slaughterhouse and covered with artwork that looks like the painted backgrounds from Hee Haw. Which is partly because the piece is an incomplete work called “Hog Heaven” by the TV set painter Les Grimes, who died in a fall while finishing it in the 1960s. It has since been completed and retouched by painter Arno Jordan and other visionaries through the years at the request of Hormel Foods Corporation. It has also gone off the rails, sanity-wise.
These cartoony pigs are pretty close together, as I assume they really are on the other side of that wall. Though I’d imagine the seven thousand real pigs inside that building are probably smiling a lot less.
One of the many painters who’ve taken a crack at the mural over the years had a tendency to make their faces much too human. Like this terrifying lil’ guy.
Dylan DeRose hails from Orlando, Florida, which sounds like it would totally suck, but Dylan has taken lemons and made lemonade. Or should we say oranges into orange juice. After getting the hell out of his hometown, Dylan bravely ventured back to create his project, aptly titled Orlando. In it, he documents the lasting effects of taking an empty swamp and building it into a mecca of tourism, consumerism, and fantasy. Dylan was especially drawn to the influence of themed experiences on the city as the whole. Check out his photos of the creepier side of living in the shadow of the mouse above.
The ATL Twins Would Like to Introduce You to the Li’l Twins
The world has always been a terrifying place, but few have the bravery to stick there head into the vilest and most dead-end aspects of the human condition and document it. As far as we can tell, this is the thesis ofVrille, a twisted-ass video series directed by Matt Swinsky. We found out about Vrille by way of our favorite stripper-banging, double-penetrating duo, the ATL Twins. They helped Matt put the inaugural “episode” together, which features their childhood friends Adam and Andrew Gates—who also happen to be twins and go by the collective “Suave” and “Cutesy,” aka the Li’l Twins.
The ATL Twins and Matt first met the Li’l Twins at a young age via the skateboarding scene of Atlanta. But over the years the Gates boys went off in a peculiar and depressing direction, devolving into boozing hermits who spend their days watching obscure films on a near-broken TV, smoking cigs, and, on the rare occasion when they’re feeling social, hanging out with the dregs of society. You can tell after the first few moments of this clip, which is shot on gritty VHS tape within the Li’l Twins’ dilapidated home, that the two boys have seen some really fucked up shit in their day.
We won’t completely spoil the story contained within this video for you, but we will say that it involves an alleged murderous KKK member who has skinned a few folks (whether they were alive or dead at the time of the skinning has been lost to the sands of time). We also want to make it clear that the gnarly-ass tale told by the Gates Twins is believed to be gospel by both the ATL Twins and the director Matt. The ATL Twins and Matt also want everyone to know that this document is not meant to be exploitative in any way, and the Li’l Twins gave them full approval to shoot it—in other words, it’s “just real shit.”
VICE: How’d you guys meet the Li’l Twins? The ATL Twins: When we first moved to ATL, we moved to this neighborhood and we met them they were skaters and they were twins. The whole crew was little kids, we were young too, but they were younger—like 16 or some shit—but we got with them and started skating and became really good friends with them. Eventually we became roommates with them and worked with them and shit. Actually, they used to be really amazing skateboarders.
In the interview Chris Nieratko did with you a couple of years ago that sort of introduced you to the world, you guys said something like “fuck other twins.” So I’m surprised you were so close with these two. Yeah well, we never really ever met any other twins to be honest with you. Other than the Li’l Twins, we haven’t kicked it with any twins. We can relate to them in a lot of always; they were different, they would fight, they were close, but they would also get into fights. One of them knocked the other one’s tooth out. They werebad. They were also really close. We really clicked with them—skateboarding, movies, and shit. We always saw eye-to-eye on everything, they were really cool.
This Guy Makes Life-Size Child Dolls That Wear Lingerie
Trottla is a Japanese company that produces and sells child-sized, life-like dolls. They’re made to feel and look like real children and come with heating instructions and moveable joints. Before you berate me for immediately assuming these dolls are for pedophiles, consider that there is no male counterpart, they wear lingerie, and just look at the fucking pictures.
The company clearly states that the dolls are not to be used for sexual purposes, but if they’re just kids’ toys, why the hell would you dress them up in matching white lace lingerie sets and give them teeny weeny awkward nipples? The photo galleries used to promote the dolls onthemanufacturer's website are also enough to creep out even the hardiest internet veteran.
Generally, it is legal to produce, sell, and buy these dolls in the UK, though obviously the lines begin to blur when it comes to their usage and how they’re displayed. How is there a loophole in UK law big enough for a life-size child sex doll to fit through? I caught up with Shin Takagi, the owner of Trottla and the guy who makes the dolls, to find out how his business continues to operate.
VICE: Hey guys. So how are Trottla dolls made? Shin Takagi: We produce most parts of the dolls ourselves because a lot of the parts aren’t available commercially. It requires a lot of time to fully reproduce the movement of the human body. Its skin is soft like a marshmallow and is made of the closest material to human skin. The whole process requires great risk. Our dolls are the only dolls in the world that will substitute a human girl.
Why, though? What are they for? I cannot be precise in my answer to this. The purpose of the doll differs with each customer and the customer is free to use the doll in any way they wish.
So I’m guessing it’s not for kids… Is it a sex toy? This is the customer’s choice. However, we do prohibit the dolls being used as sexual objects commercially, as they are very realistic and could be mistaken for real children. We pray for the security of our customers and they may be put in danger if they do not treat the doll with caution.
The phone calls started a couple of weeks ago. I was at work, and didn’t think much of the first one as I politely but quickly hung up before the caller got beyond talking about a music video and a band I haven’t been in for nine years. Right after the last call of the day disconnected my brother rang.
"Did you just get a weird phone call?" he asked. I told him I did, and then asked if he had been pranked too. He hesitated, which made me nervous. Turns out someone had been calling his landline all afternoon trying to get in touch with me. It wasn’t until he’d given her my number that he realized he might have made a mistake. The breathy, repetitive diatribes on religious prophecies and butchered pronunciations of our last name apparently creeped him out the more he thought about it.
Of course, by that time, it was too late. I got four calls from her that day, each resulting in a voicemail that sounded like a dying phone-sex operator trying to recite the plotline of her three favorite X-Files episodes. Eventually, when I got home, I was able to give everything a thorough listen. I learned that God, in fulfillment of a blood covenant revolving around the End Times, had apparently chosen me to father her child. It’s not the worst pickup line I’ve ever heard, but the parts about her dying seven times, needing me to come see her, aliens, and us both being “in danger” didn’t exactly inspire confidence or comfort.
The video that made my stalker fall in love with me. I’m not even in it btw, it was made after I left the band.
I called my old bandmates to ask them about it, and they responded with silence followed by the type of “holy shit” you only want to encounter after someone unzips your pants. Apparently, this same person had been sending “fan mail” through the band’s record label, which included screenshots of the band members from the video, annotated with details of the prophecy she’d begun explaining to me via phone, as well as notarized poems which spoke to the future she saw for her and them. And now me, I guessed.
"We didn’t know how seriously to take it," one of them explained. They knew now.
I headed home and dealt with it the only way I know how: I bought a taped-up Louisville Slugger, filled out a police report, went home, checked my closets, drank a beer in the shower, and locked myself in my bedroom.
Do you know how long you have to wait for a fat, old, white dude in a robe to tell you that his 8-second analysis of your affidavit has determined that blood covenants + command-type auditory hallucinations = not creepy enough to give you a temporary protection order? Three to four hours if you’re lucky, apparently. After shooting me down, the judge scheduled a hearing where I had to have a fucking meet-and-greet with my stalker. Thanks a lot, asshole.