The Wall Comes Down

After World War II, control of Germany was divided between the four major Allied powers; the U.S., U.K., France, and the Soviet Union.  To keep things as confusing as possible, the same was done to Berlin as well, though it was smack dab in the middle of the part controlled by the Soviets.  This division resulted in the creation of two very different countries.  West Germany was a democratic nation that believed in free speech and capitalism.  East Germany was a communist dictatorship which believed in spying on everybody and being just about as paranoid and crazy as a country could possibly be.  Things were weird in East Germany.  We're talking later finding out all of your friends were members of the secret police assigned to spy on you weird.  We're talking the secret police breaking into your home and just moving things around a little bit to convince you that you're going crazy weird.  So yeah, just a little weird.  As one can imagine, a lot of people didn't really want to live in such a society, and as a result, thousands began to flee to West Germany, with the route through divided Berlin being the easiest.  Many of these were East Germany's best and brightest, so to stop the flow, East Germany built a wall across Berlin in 1961.  On the east side, the wall was a formidable structure of concrete, barbed wire, and watch towers.  On the west, it was a handy thing to cover in graffiti.    

Fast forward 28 years to 1989.  In a desperate attempt to hold onto power and stave off economic collapse, many communist nations were creating liberal reforms easing all sorts of restrictions that had been in place for generations.  However, East Germany was not one of these.  No, if anything East Germany doubled down, placing even more restrictions on its people.  Unfortunately, East Germany was not an island.  In the summer of that year, the communist nation of Hungary opened its border with the west.  Soon after, thousands of East Germans flooded into Hungary to escape.  East Germany responded by barring travel to Hungary.  This sparked nationwide protests that made the crazy old men running the country decidedly nervous.  Then Czechoslovakia opened its border.  Tens of thousands of East Germans flooded into Czechoslovakia, pissing off not just the government of East Germany, but also the government of Czechoslovakia, and creating a lot of tension between the two countries. 

With protests spreading across East Germany, the crazy old men who ran it deposed their leader, a guy named Erich Honecker, who was by the far the craziest of them all, and started implementing reforms.  The most important of these was the decision to open the border, allowing people to go to West Germany and West Berlin with just a stamp on some official looking papers.  However, rather than make this announcement themselves, they instead had a lower level flunky do it.  This flunky was handed a hastily scrawled note with his instructions.  The date was November 9.  The flunky was supposed to announce that the border would be opened the next day, but instead, announced that it would open immediately.  This resulted in tens of thousands of East Germans flooding to the security checkpoints along the Berlin Wall, demanding to be let out, which thoroughly confused the border guards, who had not yet been given any orders regarding the change in policy.  

The border guards quickly became nervous as the crowds continued to grow.  Desperate, they began phoning their superiors for orders.  One of these was Harald Jaeger.  As people first started to arrive, Harald called his superior and asked for orders, at which time he was told to fuck off and do his job.  As the crowd grew larger and more unruly, Harald called again.  This time his superior called him a coward who was probably lying about what was going on for god only knows what reason.  Fun fact, people who work for a police state rarely trust anybody for some reason.  Anyways, after a few more such phone calls, Harald finally decided fuck this shit, and just opened the checkpoint and let anyone go across.  Thousands of East German's flooded into West Berlin.  Hearing about it, the guards at the other security checkpoints opened their gates as well.  For their part, West Germans rushed to greet the East Germans, bringing champagne and flowers.  The whole length of the wall erupted into a giant party that lasted for days.  

Things just kind of snowballed from there.  People began to hack away at the wall, causing whole sections to fall.  The East German government at first tried to stop them, but after a while gave up and just let it happen.  To encourage travel, the West German government handed out money to any East German that crossed so that they could buy some shit to take home.  Several famous musicians flocked to the wall to sing about freedom, the most famous being David Hasselhoff, who sang to 500,000 Germans from atop the wall on New Years Eve while wearing a leather jacket covered in flashing lights.  Seeing that they couldn't stop people from tearing down the wall, the East German government began pretending it had been their idea all along, completely dismantling it in June of 1990.  In July of that year, East Germany formally adopted West German currency, making it easier for people to buy shit, and in October the two countries were officially reunified.  

Image: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Berlin_1989,_Fall_der_Mauer,_Chute_du_mur_08.jpg             

Wacky Races

In 1907, some twit of a newspaper editor in France wrote an article on how awesome it would be if they had an automobile race across the Eurasian continent, which was a totally stupid idea given the fact that at the time very few roads, as we now consider them, existed and that automobiles were still considered the toys of the rich.  However, despite all of this, forty teams paid the entry fee for the non-existent race, forcing the newspaper editor to come up with a route on the fly.  Using nothing but maps from a local library, it was decided that the race would follow telegraph lines running from Beijing to Paris, a route of some 9,300 miles.  Though forty teams signed up, only five actually arrived in China.  These included a bored Italian prince in a modified luxury car, two cars furnished by the French auto maker De Dion, and one discount French auto made by a company called Contal which would go bankrupt the following year.  The final car was a Dutch Spyker driven by a conman by the name of Charles Godard.  

By 1907, Godard had been in and out of prison numerous times for obtaining money using less than ethical methods.  When he first heard about the race, he was earning money via the Wall of Death, which if you have never heard of is well worth looking up.  Deciding that a race across two continents was a better way to make a living then riding a motorcycle in circles on a vertical wall, he quickly made his way to Amsterdam.  There, being a charming fellow, he convinced the head of the Spyker auto company to give him a car, a shit ton of spare tires, and the entry fee for the race.  Not having any money, he then sold the spares to buy a boat ticket to China.  In Beijing, the other teams were buying up fuel and supplies and having it carried by camel to create supply caches along the route.  Again, lacking money, Godard scammed some out of the local Dutch consul with the promise that a letter of credit, which never existed, would soon arrive.  However, even this was only enough to cover his expenses for a fifth of the journey, so he made a deal with the Contal team to carry their bedding and spare tires for the use of some of their fuel.  

The race began on June 10, with the Italian prince racing far ahead of the other competitors thanks to him having more money than god.  The others mostly stayed together, because you know, they were driving across the fucking Gobi Desert.  Within eight days, the Contal broke down, because it was a piece of shit car, and Godard, figuring they wouldn't need them anymore, claimed their supplies as his own.  Godard himself nearly met the same fate when he ran out of gas 120 miles short of the next checkpoint.  Luckily, he managed to charm the local khan into dragging the Stryker to the checkpoint with camels, where after refueling, he drove for 23 hours straight to catch up with the De Dion cars 385 miles ahead.  This was just the beginning of Godard's problems.  

As the racers moved into Siberia, the Stryker began to show worrying signs of wear with Godard doing what repairs he could with items like a pound of raw bacon and wooden spigots.  To keep the car moving across the Russian steppes, he hired horses to drag it along.  Finally, unable to nurse anymore out of the car, Godard was forced to stop only halfway across Siberia.  Seeing no other alternative, Godard loaded his car on a westward bound train, a move that resulted in the De Dion teams to declaring him a cheat.  However, Godard only took the Stryker 1,500 miles to where the nearest repairs could be made, and then had it hauled back to begin the race again from the point where he had stopped.  Now far behind, Godard began driving twenty-four stints, broken only by four hour stops for sleep.  He caught the De Dion teams in the Russian city of Kazan, having covered some 3,500 miles of rough terrain in 14 days, a distance that had taken the De Dion teams 30 days to traverse.  Together they all moved on towards Paris.  

Of course by that time none of it really mattered.  The Italian prince had arrived in Paris on August 10, the same day Godard arrived in Kazan, claiming the first place prize which was a magnum of champagne.  The other racers would arrive three weeks later, though Godard would not be amongst them.  When Godard arrived in Germany, he was promptly arrested for the whole bank fraud thing with the Dutch consul in Beijing.  The Stryker company sent a representative to drive their car the last leg to Paris.  However, Godard escaped from prison and attempted to steal the car back twelve miles from the finish line.  This attempt sadly failed due to a veritable swarm of police, though he did manage to talk his way out of prison around a month later.  Say what you want about Godard, but he was one charming mother fucker.  Thus ended the Peking to Paris, one of the greatest, and stupidest, automobile races of all time.  

Image: https://sv.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fil:1907_Itala_-_being_pulled_-_Project_Gutenberg_etext_17432.jpg

What Do You Call A Man With No Arms And No Legs? Bad Ass!

When Arthur Cavanagh was born, his aristocratic Irish parents were horrified to discover that their brand new baby boy only had rudimentary arms and legs, meaning he just had skinny little stumps.  This being 1831, when people with disabilities were generally treated like raisins in cookies (not wanted by the general population), Arthur's future wasn't all that bright.  At least that would've been the case if he hadn't been born into a family that was rich as shit.  Not wanting her baby to do without, Arthur's mother went out and found a doctor who liked money enough that he was willing to spend all of his time with a single patient.  The doctor forced young Arthur to do vigorous exercises until his stumps were strong and dexterous enough to allow him to use them to the maximum of their potential.  While still a child, Arthur was taught to paint and write (both using his mouth), fish, shoot a gun, and even ride a horse using a specially designed saddle.  A wheel chair was also designed to allow him to move freely around the house.  

Arthur's mother provided him with the best of tutors.  It was with one of these that she traveled with Arthur, then age 15, on a two year tour of Italy, Palestine, and Egypt; the tutor carrying Arthur on his back in a specially made basket.  Upon their return to Ireland, Arthur got caught up with a group of youthful nationalists who dreamed of freeing the country from British rule.  Now one might think there wouldn't be much of a place for a man like Arthur in an armed revolt, but he was such a fine rider that he was made a scout.  Unfortunately, the Rebellion of 1848 was long on poets and intellectuals and short on people who had any damn idea of what they were actually doing.  The revolt collapsed before it even really began and most of the leaders were shipped off to penal colonies in Australia.  Arthur escaped such a fate because he wasn't seen to be much of a threat.  Being rather put out by this lack of respect for his abilities, Arthur did his best to prove himself as all young men do, by plowing every willing woman he could find.  His mother was less than impressed, especially after a few of the serving girls were left with bastards in their bellies.  Fearing shame on the family name, she sent Arthur to Sweden, accompanied by his brother Thomas, which seems a strange choice given that Sweden was most definitely just as full of women as Ireland.  

Perhaps it was the language barrier, but Arthur soon grew tired of Sweden, and convinced his brother that they ought to go travelling the world.  Their mother was fine with this idea, as long as travelling didn't mean any more lady involved chicanery.  Together, the two brothers traveled throughout the Nordic countries, into Russia, down through Iraq, and then into Persia; most likely getting stared at wherever they went.  It's not every day you see a white aristocratic gentleman with no arms and no legs riding around in a basket on his brother's back.  It should be mentioned that such attention did have its advantages.  When Arthur fell ill in Iraq, a local sheikh allowed him to be cared for by the sheikh's harem for two weeks.  However, it also had its negatives.  In Persia, Arthur and Thomas were imprisoned in a cage in a town square and pelted with rotten fruit for a time.  The whole experience soured them on Persia, so they moved on to India, where Arthur took up tiger hunting to pass the time.  

Unfortunately, as is always the case, the fun times came to an end.  Thomas grew ill and decided to go to Australia, leaving Arthur behind.  Thomas never made it, dying on the voyage over.  Soon after, word finally reached Arthur's mother of his two week time in a harem.  Quite scandalized, she cut off his allowance, leaving him virtually penniless.  Arthur though wasn't the type to give up.  Instead of freaking out, Arthur made his way to the nearest East India Company office, which virtually controlled India at the time, and asked for a job.  It goes without saying that the company men were rather shocked at this turn of events, but being apparently some pretty easy going folks, they gave him a job delivering messages on horseback.  He remained there for a little under a year before earning enough money for the voyage home, arriving some five years after his initial departure.  Upon arrival, he discovered his elder brother had died, leaving him lord of the family estate.  

Arthur proved quite capable at running the lands now under his control.  Where once things teetered on the edge of bankruptcy, money began pouring in.  At the age of 24, he decided to marry his cousin.  At first, the girl's father opposed the marriage, claiming he was worried that Arthur's lack of limbs may be hereditary.  However, Arthur disproved this notion by introducing his prospective father-in-law to his fully limbed bastard offspring.  The couple had a total of seven children, not one sharing their father's disability.  Soon after getting married, Arthur got into local politics, working his way up the ladder until he was elected a member of the British Parliament at the age of 35, a seat he held for the next 14 years.  Arthur died of pneumonia in 1889 at the age of 58.

Image: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arthur_MacMurrough_Kavanagh#/media/File:Arthur-kavanagh.jpg