Here you go. Have at it
http://www.foxnews.com/science/2014...e-killed-beast-and-has-proof/?intcmp=features
he's been busted for a Bigfoot hoax in the past where he tried to palm off a frozen ape costume as the real thing...
Bigfoot Fact or Fiction
- Thread starter BigFoot
- Start date
he's been busted for a Bigfoot hoax in the past where he tried to palm off a frozen ape costume as the real thing...
And the known evolutionary advantage of moving upright is to be able to chase animals (often much faster than us) for long distances without overheating, allowing us to tire our prey, catch them and eat them.
If BF moves upright (as suggested by that film, and tracks) it would likely be for the same reason. To run down prey.
So if BF moves upright yet doesn't run or travel long distances, it is a very odd creature indeed.
Edit> Then again, most North American humans don't run or travel far on foot nowadays. Maybe BF is learning from us.
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Oh, it's simple;
They are shy, withdrawn creatures (except when they eat your dog and steal deer meat from your freezer) who hide away from humans (except when they stand on a front porch and fiddle with the windows and doors trying to get in) and they are extremely intelligent (except when they don't know people are shooting at them, or that it's raining and they ought to seek shelter) so they live solitary lives (except when they are knocking and screeching back and forth and scaring brave young cats and dogs).
- Thread starter
- #764
I spray Bigfoot repellant on my lawn. So far, it is working.I have said this before........
Get off my lawn Phil.
Bigfoot ate my dingo.
- Thread starter
- #767
I am from Cleveland- this stuff doesn't bother me much. It is killing my wife, though. She has neuropathy and rheumatoid arthritis.If it doesn't warm up you won't have to worry about the lawn.
I have said this before........
Get off my lawn Phil.
No problem, I know you pack heat!
[stepping off the lawn]
[/stepping off the lawn]
There is an item on CNN. Someone has claimed bagging Big Foot...
http://www.cnn.com/video/data/2.0/video/us/2014/01/06/dnt-man-claims-he-killed-bigfoot.ksat.html
And I thought hoax all along...
http://www.cnn.com/video/data/2.0/video/us/2014/01/06/dnt-man-claims-he-killed-bigfoot.ksat.html
And I thought hoax all along...
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Yes, that looks exactly as I would expect a carcass left in the wilderness for a year to look like.
Bravo.
It must be their stench that kept scavengers and bugs from consuming soft exposed tissue like a nose, lips and eyes.
I presume the stench was so powerful that it even warded off natural decay.
You'd think that a guy who was going to try to pull off a hoax like this would at least try to google what humans remains left oustide look like after just a few weeks, let alone a year.
Ok, so it must be real.
My questions;
1. If you've shot Bigfoot, why not tell someone immediately?
2. Why leave the body someplace for an extended period?
3. Why put it on display for a group of townspeople instead of forensic scientists and anthropologists?
The simple answer to each of these questions is, because it's just another hoax like the footprints, the films and the TV shows.
He'll have his 15 minutes of fame, and 20 years from now people will recall the event with conspiracies on how the truth was hidden by the government, or some other such silly nonsense just like the P G film despite the confession of the guy who wore the suit in that film, and the video stills which show what Patterson claimed were shots taken the same day, in one scene there is Patterson taking plaster casts of "footprints" with a cleanly shaved face, and then standing by a tree supposedly later that same day holding the plaster casts while sporting several days growth of beard.
Bravo.
It must be their stench that kept scavengers and bugs from consuming soft exposed tissue like a nose, lips and eyes.
I presume the stench was so powerful that it even warded off natural decay.
You'd think that a guy who was going to try to pull off a hoax like this would at least try to google what humans remains left oustide look like after just a few weeks, let alone a year.
Ok, so it must be real.
My questions;
1. If you've shot Bigfoot, why not tell someone immediately?
2. Why leave the body someplace for an extended period?
3. Why put it on display for a group of townspeople instead of forensic scientists and anthropologists?
The simple answer to each of these questions is, because it's just another hoax like the footprints, the films and the TV shows.
He'll have his 15 minutes of fame, and 20 years from now people will recall the event with conspiracies on how the truth was hidden by the government, or some other such silly nonsense just like the P G film despite the confession of the guy who wore the suit in that film, and the video stills which show what Patterson claimed were shots taken the same day, in one scene there is Patterson taking plaster casts of "footprints" with a cleanly shaved face, and then standing by a tree supposedly later that same day holding the plaster casts while sporting several days growth of beard.
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I swear I saw a crop circle in the beard of that rubber mask. 
Do all Texans hunt in their boxer shorts?
- Thread starter
- #774
Hell even Moneymaker is scoffing at this one.
I love that guys name!
If ever there was truth in advertising, it was when God saw fit to arrange the names of Matt Moneymaker and Bernie Madoff!
Here is a scholarly article that I find quite enlightening on this issue.
Amy L. Ellison
Sign for Analysis:
Bigfoot as a cultural phenomenon.
Driving Theoretical Questions (DTQs):
Why does the belief in such a creature persist? What hopes and desires, fears and anxieties, does Bigfoot represent? How have various technological advancements informed and problematized the cultural significances of Bigfoot? What, in short, does Bigfoot mean for us in this day and age?
Multiple Analytical Responses:
Bigfoot is an embodiment of our desires for autonomy. Indeed, Bigfoot is the apotheosis of independence. With no family, no social group, no responsibilities to others, he ranges about inside the radical individualism he himself embodies. At first glimpse strangely, but on deeper inspection understandably, he never seems in our imagination to be subject to the psychological terrors of autonomy. Because his consciousness is blissfully under-developed, he remains the eternal child in an Eden all his own, an Adam who apparently needs no helpmate and no Father. He is a Crusoe fine without Friday. Loneliness can’t attack him, because he has no sense of lost community, history, or law. Nowhere do we get the sense that he longs for contact with others. We don’t read his footprints, for example, as signs of a desire to reach out, to come closer to us. Instead, they signify his simple travels as he goes about his daily existence (we have no sense of him struggling to survive), or they mark his easy escape from any encroachment from the outside on the pure autonomy he enjoys and we all so desperately desire. Simply put, Bigfoot signifies our deep-seated desires for pure, unfettered autonomy.
The persistent belief in and fascination with Bigfoot is also a salve against the fear of ecological destruction. With the detonation of the atomic bomb, the devastation of vast sections of the tropical rain forests in South America, and the rupturing of the Exxon Valdez, the twentieth century has seen some of the most ruinous environmental disasters in recorded history. Hurriedly, scientists flock to warn against greenhouse gases and the receding polar ice caps. Meanwhile, so-called “progressive” cultures work to reintroduce falcons to their native environments with special shelters and assisted matings. Such anxiousness underscores a deep emotional fear that we, one species, might be guilty of destroying Earth for all living creatures. Read through the lens of ecology, the Bigfoot myth also represents our need to feel exculpated from the horrors we’ve visited on the planet. For, the reasoning might run, if there are such wide expanses of forest “out there” (whether in Southeast Asia, Tibet, or the Pacific Northwest of the U.S.) where a Bigfoot could exist in nearly complete anonymity, then surely the Earth is not as ravaged as the scientists purport. Complicating this reading even further is the recurring Romantic trope of the “spirit of the place” (genius loci). It may seem that the woods are healthy, still, with Bigfoot as their emissary. This calms our worries, mitigates our guilt. Ironically, though, Bigfoot labors unknowingly for big business. In his blissful Eden, he has all that he wants and suffers no harms from pollutants and habitat destruction. The earth is healthy, Bigfoot tells the far left, from the far left of the Pacific (and “pacified”
Northwest.
In addition, this hairy giant is a sign of cultural diversity and harmony. Bigfoot, Sasquatch, Yeti, Abominable Snowman—every culture has some version of this figure. Whatever he is named, he is shared by all. No single culture can claim him as its own—hence he is the very incarnation of all that lies outside the bounds of specific political and cultural ideologies. He is, then, ultimately a sign of the wish for unity—certainly between ourselves and the fascinating creatures of nature that are our ancestors, but perhaps even more so between ourselves as a collection of diverse peoples that tend to fear and respond violently to differences. We are a species that seems destined to destroy itself from within, and the belief in Bigfoot counteracts that apparent destiny. Bigfoot is the United Nations mission statement written onto mountainous terrain and forbidding landscapes—far from the turmoil of international political negotiations and terror. He is the forever-absent Platonic ideal of human egalitarianism and unity.
The belief in Bigfoot is also a hyped-up contemporary substitute for traditional religious assurances. Though myths of Bigfoot-like creatures existed long before supermarket tabloids, such widespread textual media have helped to propel Bigfoot into larger spheres of contact. With the loss of religion as a grounding absolute—a point of stability in an otherwise unstable, decentered existence—the tabloids offer their own store-bought alternative. Author Don DeLillo makes cogent use of such a reading, calling the supermarket “a kind of church,” where the tabloids act as liturgical support. DeLillo suggests that tabloids “ask profoundly important questions about death, the afterlife, God, worlds, and space. Yet, they exist in an almost pop art atmosphere.” Contextualized within DeLillo’s reading of the supermarket as church, Bigfoot represents a substitute for a transcendental being, one that is easily bought and digested, a kind of consumable faith. The persistence of a belief in Bigfoot, then, seems little more than a persistence of a desire for eternal existences. We need to add mystery to our lives but it needs to be easily digestible. Where do you find tabloids? Next to the candy and the sodas at the check-out counter, where we have all waited in line and contemplated the largest questions of existence.
Science has stolen God, but science can’t pin down that radically rangy Bigfoot. Like UFOs, Bigfoot allows its followers to “play at science” while preserving the psychological need to think that science hasn’t completely stripped the world of mystery. Bigfoot helps its believers master science and keep faith in mystery through the most ingenious of psychological means: performance of the threat. By performing, playing at, and staging science (while not having to earn a B.S., M.S., and Ph.D. in science), Bigfoot believers become, in the end, the modern-day equivalents of alchemists. This gives them psychological control over the threatening loss of mystery in the universe.
Ultimately, though, Bigfoot signifies the unknown within ourselves. He helps us fulfill a desire to quest perennially for unknowns and unknowables. Whereas the “real” unconscious is perhaps too overwhelmingly unknowable (leading to anxiety and neurosis as one tries to pin it down), Bigfoot permits the vast pleasure of partial knowledge of the sublime and the irrational and the unknown within us. The sign acknowledges and feeds the unconscious, while simultaneously keeping it in a safe linguistic cage. Bigfoot, like the UFO, is a sign of the paradoxical need both to liberate and to contain the unconscious.
Amy L. Ellison
Sign for Analysis:
Bigfoot as a cultural phenomenon.
Driving Theoretical Questions (DTQs):
Why does the belief in such a creature persist? What hopes and desires, fears and anxieties, does Bigfoot represent? How have various technological advancements informed and problematized the cultural significances of Bigfoot? What, in short, does Bigfoot mean for us in this day and age?
Multiple Analytical Responses:
Bigfoot is an embodiment of our desires for autonomy. Indeed, Bigfoot is the apotheosis of independence. With no family, no social group, no responsibilities to others, he ranges about inside the radical individualism he himself embodies. At first glimpse strangely, but on deeper inspection understandably, he never seems in our imagination to be subject to the psychological terrors of autonomy. Because his consciousness is blissfully under-developed, he remains the eternal child in an Eden all his own, an Adam who apparently needs no helpmate and no Father. He is a Crusoe fine without Friday. Loneliness can’t attack him, because he has no sense of lost community, history, or law. Nowhere do we get the sense that he longs for contact with others. We don’t read his footprints, for example, as signs of a desire to reach out, to come closer to us. Instead, they signify his simple travels as he goes about his daily existence (we have no sense of him struggling to survive), or they mark his easy escape from any encroachment from the outside on the pure autonomy he enjoys and we all so desperately desire. Simply put, Bigfoot signifies our deep-seated desires for pure, unfettered autonomy.
The persistent belief in and fascination with Bigfoot is also a salve against the fear of ecological destruction. With the detonation of the atomic bomb, the devastation of vast sections of the tropical rain forests in South America, and the rupturing of the Exxon Valdez, the twentieth century has seen some of the most ruinous environmental disasters in recorded history. Hurriedly, scientists flock to warn against greenhouse gases and the receding polar ice caps. Meanwhile, so-called “progressive” cultures work to reintroduce falcons to their native environments with special shelters and assisted matings. Such anxiousness underscores a deep emotional fear that we, one species, might be guilty of destroying Earth for all living creatures. Read through the lens of ecology, the Bigfoot myth also represents our need to feel exculpated from the horrors we’ve visited on the planet. For, the reasoning might run, if there are such wide expanses of forest “out there” (whether in Southeast Asia, Tibet, or the Pacific Northwest of the U.S.) where a Bigfoot could exist in nearly complete anonymity, then surely the Earth is not as ravaged as the scientists purport. Complicating this reading even further is the recurring Romantic trope of the “spirit of the place” (genius loci). It may seem that the woods are healthy, still, with Bigfoot as their emissary. This calms our worries, mitigates our guilt. Ironically, though, Bigfoot labors unknowingly for big business. In his blissful Eden, he has all that he wants and suffers no harms from pollutants and habitat destruction. The earth is healthy, Bigfoot tells the far left, from the far left of the Pacific (and “pacified”
Northwest.In addition, this hairy giant is a sign of cultural diversity and harmony. Bigfoot, Sasquatch, Yeti, Abominable Snowman—every culture has some version of this figure. Whatever he is named, he is shared by all. No single culture can claim him as its own—hence he is the very incarnation of all that lies outside the bounds of specific political and cultural ideologies. He is, then, ultimately a sign of the wish for unity—certainly between ourselves and the fascinating creatures of nature that are our ancestors, but perhaps even more so between ourselves as a collection of diverse peoples that tend to fear and respond violently to differences. We are a species that seems destined to destroy itself from within, and the belief in Bigfoot counteracts that apparent destiny. Bigfoot is the United Nations mission statement written onto mountainous terrain and forbidding landscapes—far from the turmoil of international political negotiations and terror. He is the forever-absent Platonic ideal of human egalitarianism and unity.
The belief in Bigfoot is also a hyped-up contemporary substitute for traditional religious assurances. Though myths of Bigfoot-like creatures existed long before supermarket tabloids, such widespread textual media have helped to propel Bigfoot into larger spheres of contact. With the loss of religion as a grounding absolute—a point of stability in an otherwise unstable, decentered existence—the tabloids offer their own store-bought alternative. Author Don DeLillo makes cogent use of such a reading, calling the supermarket “a kind of church,” where the tabloids act as liturgical support. DeLillo suggests that tabloids “ask profoundly important questions about death, the afterlife, God, worlds, and space. Yet, they exist in an almost pop art atmosphere.” Contextualized within DeLillo’s reading of the supermarket as church, Bigfoot represents a substitute for a transcendental being, one that is easily bought and digested, a kind of consumable faith. The persistence of a belief in Bigfoot, then, seems little more than a persistence of a desire for eternal existences. We need to add mystery to our lives but it needs to be easily digestible. Where do you find tabloids? Next to the candy and the sodas at the check-out counter, where we have all waited in line and contemplated the largest questions of existence.
Science has stolen God, but science can’t pin down that radically rangy Bigfoot. Like UFOs, Bigfoot allows its followers to “play at science” while preserving the psychological need to think that science hasn’t completely stripped the world of mystery. Bigfoot helps its believers master science and keep faith in mystery through the most ingenious of psychological means: performance of the threat. By performing, playing at, and staging science (while not having to earn a B.S., M.S., and Ph.D. in science), Bigfoot believers become, in the end, the modern-day equivalents of alchemists. This gives them psychological control over the threatening loss of mystery in the universe.
Ultimately, though, Bigfoot signifies the unknown within ourselves. He helps us fulfill a desire to quest perennially for unknowns and unknowables. Whereas the “real” unconscious is perhaps too overwhelmingly unknowable (leading to anxiety and neurosis as one tries to pin it down), Bigfoot permits the vast pleasure of partial knowledge of the sublime and the irrational and the unknown within us. The sign acknowledges and feeds the unconscious, while simultaneously keeping it in a safe linguistic cage. Bigfoot, like the UFO, is a sign of the paradoxical need both to liberate and to contain the unconscious.
Archaeological hoaxes and forgeries are nothing new.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Piltdown_Man
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cardiff_Giant
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Piltdown_Man
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cardiff_Giant
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Of course not. I wear boxer briefs.
Here you go. Have at it…
http://www.foxnews.com/science/2014...e-killed-beast-and-has-proof/?intcmp=features
same?
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