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What's Your Local Urban Legend / Folklore / Myth?

drjbrennan said:
Excellent story, and reminds me of the American survivalist writer Kurt Saxon who advocated intercepting drug shipments as they come into America and lacing them with a poison such as Ricin.
The population of drug users would be decimated with very little effort on the part of the authorities. The morality of this action I will not debate, but if a TRUE war on drugs was waged, this would be a very efficient tactic.
Finally, an effective deterrent, too! Not 'drugs could kill you' but 'drugs will kill you, we'll see to that' Me? Advocate a police state? Never! Well, only if I'm in charge, no fun, otherwise...
 
I was brought up in a little village in the North West called Westhoughton. It has it's own dialect and accent and is bit of a rural (or used to be) island amongst the mill towns around Bolton. The locals are called 'Keayeds' (Cow-heads.) The story is that a local farmer found one of his cows with it's head stuck in a gate and proceeded to cut it's head off, rather than cut the gate. This give Howfeners (to cite another monicker) the reputation of being thick. BUT... the farmer had actually paid more for the gate than he did for the cow, so in fact he was being very wise in decapitaiting his ruminant (wey-hey missus.)
 
New Jersey, USA

Check out this site for a compendium of New Jersey-based folklore, legends, myths, real people, strange places, hauntings, and the great Jersey Devil himself:

http://www.weirdnj.com/

We are proud of our status as the weirdest state in the Union.
 
An urban legend we had at school was that homosexuals couldn't whistle.
 
intaglio said:
An urban legend we had at school was that homosexuals couldn't whistle.

Why not? Was there any kind of rationale or was it just something chosen at random?

Cujo
 
Originally posted by Iggy011
Probably the most famous story in my area is that of Fishers Ghost.

I though the tale of Fisher's ghost was written in the early 1800s by a lawyer named John Lang who qualified in England, lived in Australia for a bit then spent the rest of his days in India - where a rather large fondness for champagne proved to be his undoing.
Its interesting how fictional tales associated with a particular place can assume independant infamy.
For example - Burkittsville!!!
 
JC was supposed to have been in Place, in Cornwall. That was mentioned in a small book by David Mudd, but I'd also like to know his source. [/B][/QUOTE]

I'm glad you mentioned this Rynner as I'd forgotten all about it !

My Mum spent a lot of time at place house as a child with her parents and grandparents (who were working there), and later spent time there with my Dad who was doing some sort of restoration work on the church at the back of the house.

Well... she'd been telling me for years that she had always known of (and had seen) an inscription on a stone in the church that said something to the effect of ' He (JC) came here I saw Him here (here being Place) ...' So one day we decided to head over to Roseland for a day out as I was quite earger to see the stone for myself, but when we searched the interior of the church high and low (we were there for about an hour !) the stone was no longer there - how can we account for that ??

I know that the stone was no figment of anyone's imagination, as I remember my Dad telling me that the lady he was working for at Place church (can't remember her name) had actually drawn his attention to the stone....
 
I grew up in Manitoba Canada. There were no school busses that we could take to school so we used to walk about 2 miles (yes uphill both ways) to and from school. Well, if anyone knows anything about Manitoba, it is about one of the coldest places on earth. You could either follow the roads which wound around this large tract of woods, or alternatively you could cut through the woods and save some time. The only carved path through the woods however was called the “Witchy path” and it was rumored that there was a crazy man, the wicthy man, living in the woods who would kill or hurt unsuspecting children who traveled through the woods. I did travel through the witchy path on many occasions and there were huts and other evidence of someone spending time there along the path, however never saw anyone other then older kids smoking cigarettes in the woods. When I was in junior high a neighbor of mine killed himself, he was in his early 20s, it turns out that he had been molesting children in the area (I found this out through eavesdropping on the parents). The rumor then went out among all the kids that he was actually the witchy man. We will never know…
 
HAARP said:
I originally hail from Cornwall.. but am occaisionally to be found in the South East - here's one I heard recently from a friend about the Bluewater shopping centre in Kent (quite surprising as Bluewater has only been open a couple or three years at the most).

Well there you have it, and my friend swears it really happened !!

My husband has worked for Bluewater since before it opened. He had heard the story, but as you all have guessed there's no truth to it at all.
 
Same as the Robert Peel statue......

In Durham city market place there's a statue of a bloke on a horse (Lord Vane Tempest I think) and the legend is that after it was finished the sculptor killed himself because the horse doesn't have a tongue.

If you climb up and look in its mouth I'm sure it does, which makes the UL even more ridiculous, but I've had the story repeated to me countless times anyway.

:confused:

Lily
 
urban legends

At the town I used to live Wagga Wagga Australia, there arose a legend, of the Five o"clock wave. As the story went at Five o"clock every night a ridable wave would rush down the Murrumbidgee River, released from Burrunjuck Dam about 100 hundred miles away, and you could surf it for twenty miles. We all used to snigger about it , but I have seen many innocent tourists with their boards waiting for the ride of their lives. They swore a friend had told them of it , so they had detoured several hundred miles to attend. :D
 
The 5 o'clock wave idea may have come from the well-known Severn Bore. On spring tides the incoming tide in the River Severn creates a huge wave which rushes miles upriver, and surfers do try to ride it. But they only get one chance - if they drop off, it's a wait of a day or even weeks before the next one!

This occurs on a lesser scale in many tidal rivers. I have even seen a miniature version near the heads of the creeks of Salcombe Harbour, when heavy swells push extra water in over the bar.
 
Hey Rynner !

Wondered if you had read the post I put earlier in this thread about JC being at Place House ?? Any thoughts ??

Haarp
 
Yes, Haarp, saw your piece, but as I don't have any further info I didn't reply.

Amusingly, I made a rare visit to a pub last night, and some drunks were arguing about JC in Cornwall - one reckoned he'd been in Hayle, and another reckoned he'd been conceived on Gyllyngvase Beach!!!

I have a couple of pics of Place Manor somewhere on my HD, if anyone's interested.
 
David said:
Look rynner, I suppose marion can give a better account tham I can!

BUT! The story is that JC came to Gastonbury, on a trading trip with J of A. Landed at Brean Down, South of Weston-Supra-Mare & legged over the Quantoc's to Glastonbury where he built a wattle & daube chapel. Later, after the crucifiction J of A returned etc. etc.

The supposed chapel, burnt down about 1100 to 1200, after which, with pigrimage rates falling, the monks found the bones of Arthur & his Misses.

The site of the old chapel was dug out as a crypt, in the middle ages so, no archeology remains

What he said ! Only Brean Down is on the end of the Mendips !
I read somewhere that a man from Shepton Mallet's grandfather claims he actually met JC when he visited , might have been in FT or maybe a local paper .
Also we had St Patrick , St Bride , St Benignus .
Other truly local stuff includes the curse of the Acland Hood family , by a slighted gypsy , that there would only ever be one male heir at one time , and it is true that there are always loads of Acland Hood sisters and only one brother .
The hill where JofA planted the thorn is supposed to be full of treasure , or at least a giant golden fish .
I'll try to trawl up some more - my mother's partner was born here ,
Marion
 
Abject apologies marion, on not being able to tell my Mendip's from my Quantoc's!!!!!

You are of course correct!!!!!!:(

The Quantoc's, are of course, west of the river Parrett.

Can I plead three bottles of rather excellent chardonnay, the night I posted. Even if I have no excuse, for never going back to check spelling, syntax or geographical error?
 
S + M urban myth

Ok this is hardly orlgional but it must be true because it happend to a friend of a friend...

This guy picks up a tatooed and peirced blonde in the Cathouse (Glasgow rock club, not bad but a bit soft) and goes back to her's expecting some kinky sex. He, as a result, isn't botherd by all the fetish stuff he sees in the flat (harnases, masks, whips ect) and they make their way to the bedroom and after much nipple twisting ect they he gets undressed.

At this point the girl pulls out a razor and tells him that she likes to bleed people during sex and drink the blood. He freaks and gets out of there as quickly as he can vowing never to go with a dominatrix type again.


A typical 'burn the frieks' story! Well I must admit that there are far more scary people in The Garage or Archaos of a weekend than in the Cathouse...

By the way am I the only one that sees a facination with S + M in the circulation of such a story?

Another one I know is the old chestnut that if you walk through Kelvengrove Park (also Glasgow) at night you will become the victim of violent male rape. This is another 'burn the freiks' special as the park is a cruising ground for gay men. I was offerd sex there myself the last time I cut throught it on the way home from a night with S + M vampire types.
 
At this point the girl pulls out a razor and tells him that she likes to bleed people during sex and drink the blood. He freaks and gets out of there as quickly as he can vowing never to go with a dominatrix type again.


Happened to me once at Krazyhouse in Liverpool, I dont think this one is such a legend as its defo happened once and probably happens somewhere or other every weekend. Normally used to leave the Krazy covered in blood from non-sexual motives tho.
 
Well it's a good story anyway. I'm sure it dodn't actualy happen that time though. I supose I just lable anything that happend to 'a friend of a friend' as urban myth.

I'm not sure if this one counts but...

Have you heard the one about Mark Almond (or however you spell his second blesed name) colapsing and having his stomach pumped in hospital? They, the story claims, found several pints of seman in him. Well I must admit that I've never ejected more that a few teasoonfulls (not that I've mesured it mind) and it would probably take a few hundred encounters to endup with pints of it in you (wouldn't you injest it anyway?)

Well anyway it fits in with the other stories. I supose they are all about sexual unease and the fasination of the 'extreme', though bondage, rock clubs and oral sex arn't extreme at all. Well I supose they are to some people...
 
I think I remember an article in the Grauniad where that pints of love-juice legend re Marc Almond was quashed. It did cross my mind wen i saw him play the other month. He still has lovely skin, makes me think of another urban legend...
 
I heard that one about Mae West too.

A few early nights and stopping smoking did it for me.......
......... though I might try mentioning it to Mrs UrbanDruid.........
...............you never know................
 
The one about Almond is usually just attributed to unknown cheerleader after partying with the football teams or such.
 
well I supose so but...

durriti said:
I think I remember an article in the Grauniad where that pints of love-juice legend re Marc Almond was quashed. It did cross my mind wen i saw him play the other month. He still has lovely skin, makes me think of another urban legend...


Ofcorse it isn't true but that never stoped anyone before.

I'm sure that if I would have said the 'Our Farher' ('Our father who art in heaven...') backwards I wouldn't have seen the face of the devil in the mirror (a local variation on an urban myth standard) but it still had it's function.

I remember a lecturer at my university srguing Um's whern't real myths as they didn't deal with architypes. She obviously hadn't read the Metamorphosis, one of the books on the reading list for the course) as it was mearly a superior peice of erotic fiction.

Since we kind-of-know how we came to be here we now use myths in a far more interesting way. I must say I love the ones about sexual unease. Does anyone have some more ones?
 
local legends

Luce mite like this one...
Near to my house there is a rock of granite all on its own in a field. It's about 6ft. high and has a basin in one side with a groove. It's said that centuries ago the first person to enter the village on may day was greeted and made "king " for the day, being feted dined etc. at the end of the day, he(or she) was taken to the rock, stretched over the basin and their throat slit, the blood running down the groove to enrich the earth for the coming summer growth! No! we don't treat strangers like this any more when they come to spend their hard earned cash in St.Just!
I have come across a mention of this in Frazer@s "golden Bough".
 
urban legends

Deep in the Riverina in Australia lies the little town of Ganmain .It is distinguished only by the fact it has only 2 pubs,aptly named the top pub(open fire,pool etc.) and the bottom pub (a tiny tiled bar,ready to be hosed out after the drunks) . Old Cyril the drunk used to alternate (like the rest of the town) between both pubs , one night deciding to catch 40 winks on the way to the bottom pub.He picked a driveway to have his rest,but as luck would have it,the catholic priest drove over Cyril and killed him."thought he was a pile of leaves" was the priests reply.3 days later the priest was conducting Cyrils funeral, is this a first?
 
Re: local legends

brian ellwood said:
Luce mite like this one...
Near to my house there is a rock of granite all on its own in a field. It's about 6ft. high and has a basin in one side with a groove. It's said that centuries ago the first person to enter the village on may day was greeted and made "king " for the day, being feted dined etc. at the end of the day, he(or she) was taken to the rock, stretched over the basin and their throat slit, the blood running down the groove to enrich the earth for the coming summer growth! No! we don't treat strangers like this any more when they come to spend their hard earned cash in St.Just!
I have come across a mention of this in Frazer@s "golden Bough".
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! TOO WEIRD!
League of Gentlemen?!
 
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