Tag Archives: Amanda Bynes

Happy Sweet Sixteen Heaven’s Gate Cult! …Why is Your Website Still Up?

By Andrew Blumetti

MARCH 1997- Time really flies when you’re chasing comets.

Nothing ages you faster than realizing something that felt like yesterday has hit one of those milestone anniversaries. 

Over sixteen years ago, while I was arriving home from school, watching VHS-taped episodes of MTV’s 120 Minutes with Matt Pinfield raspilly touting The Prodigy’s “Firestarter” video, out on the West Coast, Nike was unknowingly about to get the most bizarre and macabre free advertising in history.

“Heaven’s Gate”, a religious cult based out of San Diego, founded by lead nutball and perpetually bug-eyed loon Marshall Applewhite, believed that the Earth was about to be “recycled”. 

Now, according to me, this “recycling” means that I’d have to drag the Earth out in a beat-up blue can to the curb on Friday morning to be thrown into a giant truck, but apparently Applewhite thinks bigger than I do.

As far as he was concerned, this giant rock was about to hit its expiration date, and it was time to blast off onto the next plateau.

Michael Stipe + California Raisin = suicidal wackjob

Of course, any other day, the planet being recycled would some pretty sour news for the human race, but rest assured, when life closes a door, it sure opens a window.

Opportunity oddly knocks at the strangest times, and luckily enough, this “recycling” coincidentally presented itself when a comet by the name of “Hale-Bopp” was about to voyage past Planet Earth.

Though in the world of Marshall Applewhite, coincidences simply don’t exist.  He just used common sense… and common sense always tells us where there’s a comet passing by, there’s a freakin’ alien spacecraft following it.

It’s likely Applewhite confused Hale-Bopp with Hanson’s then-fresh single, “Mmm Bop”.  Still, mass suicide seems a little hasty.  Probably.

So, when the rare opportunity to jump on an alien ship comes around, you sure as soup don’t sit around, letting moss grow on your back.  You spend your life savings on alien abduction insurance, spend a sunny weekend castrating yourselves, purchase a crapload of black Nike sneakers, and whet your appetite for some mouth-watering poison as your main course.

Sadly, on March 26, 1997, the 39 members of Heaven’s Gate were all found dead in their large San Diego estate, all victims of a mass suicide; an act performed for their souls leave their “vehicle bodies”, evacuating the Earth and getting a one-way ticket on board that UFO. 

Even Amanda Bynes thinks this is nutty.

In three shifts, the cult ingested a deadly mixture of apple sauce mixed with sedatives and vodka.  Which doesn’t seem too logical– if you’re gonna go, why not sprinkle some poison on freshly seared t-bone steaks instead?  Go out big time!  Go tasty!

They were all found neatly in their beds, dressed identically in all black sweatsuits and Nike sneakers with purple cloths covering their heads.  They also each had $5.75 in their pocket for their travel. 

Talk about being cheap Applewhite! The George Washington Bridge just to get from New Jersey to Manhattan is now $13, so even with inflation adjustments, they really underestimated the price of a spaceship to Heaven.

This is not what Nike meant by “Just Do It” .

Tragic as this was, it was just another sad example of a confused and lost group of souls latching on to a Fruit Loop who preached a bunch of mumbo jumbo their way, ultimately leading to their untimely demise.

In 1978, the People’s Temple Agricultural Project led by Jim “I really look like I’m in 1978″ Jones, poisoned a vat of fruit punch and intimidated over 900 tentative followers (and their children) to commit “revolutionary suicide” in Guyana.

In 1994, 74 members of the Order of the Solar Temple took the same route in Switzerland.

…and of course, we can’t forget the 1993 ATF siege on the Waco, TX “Branch Davidian” compound following a 50-day standoff, which led to the deaths of 74 people including their leader, “The Wacko in Waco”, David Koresh.

All led by the screwiest of screwballs, but Heaven’s Gate, while having the same sad, eventual conclusion, had one major difference to set it apart: Unlike all of those cults, Heaven’s Gate differed due to its presence on the still wet-behind-the-ears World Wide Web.
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Heaven’s Gate and their ripoff Green Bay Packers logo ran a webpage that just screams out “1997” so badly, I’m shocked it doesn’t have Chumbawamba playing in the background.  This thing was one slippery step away from a thrown-together perpetually “under-construction” Geocities page.

Talk about gaudy too… their site looks like Richard Simmons vomited a candy necklace and a milk crate of pinwheels all over your computer’s monitor.

Here’s where things get strange though- in August of 2013, if you fire up your internet browser and type in “www.heavensgate.com” you’ll all too creepily be greeted with this:

Now, I’m not Matlock or anything, but the obvious question here is– How does a cult whose entire crew took a simultaneous swan dive still have a running webpage over sixteen years later?  The world of the internet has changed immensely in that time, yet this relic keeps on truckin’. 

Why do I get errors on Twitter half the time I go on there, and these shaved-head Star Trekkers have a site that is still up-and-running seemingly error-free?

Nothing screams out “WARNING!  WATCH FOR YOUR LIVES!” like Comic Sans.

Above is one of the true gem pages of the Heaven’s Gate website.  This is captioned “How a Member of the Kingdom of Heaven might appear”.  Apparently they figure Jesus spends his day hanging out with extras from the movie Fire in the Sky.

It’s painful to believe 38 people listened to a man who ran a site with a cheesy 1970’s alien on it, and I can’t get one person to listen to my idea of cough syrup that tastes like Buffalo sauce.


This is a note to the media assumed to be read following the discovery of their earthly bodies, explaining the circumstance of events and reasons for their “graduation” from Earth.  It also gives a “how to” of sorts if one wishes to join the three-ring circus in the stars.

Now, call me crazy, but if they figured the world was going kaput, why plan to keep your site running afterwards?  Especially for the better part of two decades! Who’s still signing those checks for the domain name?  Doesn’t seem like the top on the list of priorities an apocalyptic world needs.

Don’t believe all this malarkey they’re preaching?  Think it’s a bunch of hooey?  Aliens, comets and all that jazz?  Sounds like Heaven’s Gate wasn’t playing with a full deck, right?

Well, Old Man Applewhite’s about to drop some freaky knowledge on your sorry tuckus.  Here’s a 1995 statement from an actual extra terrestrial in a HUMAN BODY.  Not a human, but an alien in a human body… like Halloween on Mars. 

We should all start eating some tasty crow, cause that’s concrete proof staring you right in the face.

“Remember folks, don’t drink and cult.” 

So, over a decade-and-a-half later, we look back at a tragic loss of life, and a tragic waste of apple sauce. 

Cults will always be a strange and frightening phenomenon, hard to understand, sadly with a trainwreckish-aspect that seems to follow.  We can only hope to learn from this tragedy and try our best to prevent something like this from ever happening again. 

It just leaves us with a question of why?  Why would people follow a madman to their doom?  We may just never know how lost people can feel when pushed to the brink of desperation.

You can call the members of Heaven’s Gate lost, misguided, or just plain insane, but they never had to live through Speed 2, Papa Roach or My Wife and Kids.  Unless the spaceship had cable- then that’d be the real tragedy here.

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PERFECTION: The Most Terrifying 60 Seconds of Your Life

By Andrew Blumetti

And now, a play-by-play of every time I’d play the classic Milton Bradley board game, Perfection.

You know the drill of this heart-attack in the making- twist, timer, tick, tock, trouble, and KA-BLOOM!  A yellow mess on the rug that the dog isn’t responsible for this time.

Please enjoy, relate, and relive the hair-raising madness of the most nerve-racking minute you’ll ever come to experience in your lifetime.  It’s cheaper than a shrink afterall…

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Tick tick tick tick

– Strap in for one minute of pure geometrical mayhem!  In your face math!

I’ve just turned the cheap plastic round timer on my Perfection game, and that stupid thing is spinning faster than Amanda Bynes’ vision when she slunks behind the wheel on a Friday night.  Gotta make sure not to over-tighten it though, that “Made in China” Smurf-blue knob looks like it’ll break if the wind blows too hard.

– Reaching over to that pile of golden plastic pieces, and fumbling around, there goes about five of them off the coffee table, and I’ve realized this godforsaken game would’ve been better played on the rug instead.

– Quick!  Grab that triangle or square one or anything that looks like a simple Sesame Street-level shape, and try to fit it in game board holes while the gettin’s good.  Basically, just avoid getting held up on those tricky looking ones from the island of misfit shapes, they’ll just gum everything up.  Squeeze those in like a champ in the final precious seconds instead.

– The gravity of the situation hits like a splash of cold water:  this game is for “ages 5+”, so at my current anemic pace,  basically I’m handling this as badly as a kindergartener.  After more nervous laughter than a first date, time to look at the timer on the game for some piece of mind.

– Phew!  All that self-doubt was a mere overreaction… still have 35 seconds left.  This thing’s money in the bank…

– Oops, spoke too soon- the faded numbers are impossible to read, it’s actually only 25 seconds left…

– And to top it all off, that nonstop ticking, which is the soundtrack to my obvious board game failure, is starting to make the hairs on my arm stand up straight.  It’s like watching that scene in Paranormal Activity, when possessed Katie awakens, gets up and just stares at… wait, this isn’t the time for that!

…and is it me, or does the ticking seem to be somehow speeding up as time goes on?  Is that physically possible?   Is Milton Bradley practicing some sort of voodoo?   Cause I don’t think they should be.

– Geez, why did I waste time thinking about the ticking?  That was another precious ten seconds down the crapper…

– OK, down to just a few left, time’s running short, but it’s time to dominate this ticking time bomb like Tom Brady marching the troops down the gridiron with two minutes left.  These back-against-the-wall heroics are what separates the men from the boys.

but big time folly:  those annoying shapes from before are still staring me in the face, laughing.

– Maybe I should just stop the timer for a couple seconds, you know, just to fit a few extra pieces in… nah, that’s cheating.  I guess, right?   …and I am an adult.   …Stupid adults.

– …and to top it all off, I can’t believe they made me apply the stickers onto this thing myself.  Cheapskates…

– Let’s see… nailed the diamond, star shape and the pentagon…  can’t wait to push that switch that stops the game!  No messy cleanup, no heart-stopping plastic explosion that I know is coming, yet still makes me jump.  (I mean, who wants to go through that?  Look at how those Caucasian kids are being thrown around on the box, I’m too delicate for that fate.)  I’ll tell ya, if they gave out medals for Perfection playing, I’d pull in gold, silver and bronze.  That’s right… all three platform levels. 

Five seconds left!  Better hurry!

– Crap on a stick!  That stupid S-shaped piece that looks like Pac Man if Picasso got a hold of him then threw him in a blender.  This awful thing always haunts me.  I always fumble it the way an arena football player fumbles pretty much every play.

– This feels like watching one of those poor sap victims in a Saw movie watching the timer tick down till their arms and legs get yanked out.

3… (gettin’ hairy…)

2… (man up Andrew- it’s time for a last minute board game miracle…)

1… (hmmm…)

uh ohhh…

DING!!

– Ahhh, stupid piece of plastic crap.  It wasn’t me, the timer must be busted.  Maybe they should call it Imperfection.

(That line was gold!   I wish someone was here to hear that…)

– Ehhh, this Commie game’s for kids.  I’ll clean it up later.  I’m gonna go have some Fruit Roll-Ups.

THE END.

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Filed under Comedy, Entertainment, Games, Humor, Retro