The Daily Show: Ears Edition - TDS Time Machine | Shafted - Tales of Unsung Women

Episode Date: March 15, 2025

Desi Lydic and Dulcé Sloan recount the history of women getting the shaft. And not in the good way.  First, they highlight Marion Donovan, the criminally unsung hero who invented the first disposable diapers. Next, they recount the tale of Willie Mae "Big Mama" Thornton, the African-American singer whose rendition of "Hound Dog" was soon eclipsed by Elvis Presley's version. Finally, they salute Sarah Howe, a 19th-century con artist who shattered the glass ceiling of financial crime.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

You're listening to Comedy Central. -♪ Pshh, pow! -♪ -♪ The Daily Show theme music plays. -♪ Welcome back to The Daily Show. March is officially Women's History Month, when we honor women by remembering their accomplishments and misattributing quotes to them on Instagram. Some of the most fascinating stories in women's history

aren't that well known. So this month, Desi Lydic and Dulce Sloan are taking a look at the lives of real women who left their mark in our new daily show segment, Shafted. -♪ Yeah! -♪ -♪ Yeah! -♪ Yeah! -♪ -♪ Yeah! -♪ Good evening. I'm Dulce Sloan. And I'm Desi Lydic.

Tonight's episode is a familiar story. Big dreams crushed by the reality of reality. The victim, Marion Donovan. The crime? Being a woman. In 1946, Marion was a housewife in the small town of Westport, Connecticut. Being home and raising children, Marion got fed up

with all the shit in her life. Ugh, why is there so much shit everywhere? Why? At the time, people were using cloth diapers, and the only solution for leaks were uncomfortable rubber pants that gave babies diaper rash. So no one wanted to wear rubbers,

even though they were the most effective method. Babies were like, do I have to? It feels so much better pooping against bare skin. But one day, Marion looked at her shower curtain and got an idea. I've got an idea. This can keep water from leaking out. Surely it could do the same for shit.

So she got to work designing a new, better diaper cover, This can keep water from leaking out. Surely it could do the same for shit. So she got to work, designing a new, better diaper cover, which she called the Boder. I did it. I'm gonna liberate women from needless domestic work. Right after I buy a new shower curtain and clean up this mess before my husband leaves me. It was a hit.

The diaper covers were flying off the shelves faster than black market birth control pills. And then came Marion's best idea yet. A fully disposable diaper with super absorbent material. Marion pitched her idea for fully disposable diapers to every large manufacturer in the country, but she soon found herself knee deep in something much worse than baby poop. Sexism. What do you think?

It's unnecessary. There's no market for this, you dumb lady. My wife loves washing diapers. Faced with rejection, Marion went on inventing various doohickeys and what you call it. But a decade later, she had the shock of her life when Pampers launched a line of fully disposable diapers. Motherfucker.

That's right. A man had been rewarded for coming up with the same thing she was rejected for. And when you're done, you just throw it away. This is genius. Why has no one thought of this before? Good job, male inventor. You're welcome, male executive.

Ah, man, men are great. Baa baa baa baa! Marion was desperate and at the end of her rope, so she did the unthinkable. Ooh. Actually, that part didn't really happen. Yeah, but it should have. Disposable diapers are now a $6 billion industry.

Marion should have been the Beyonce of baby care, but fate made her the Farrah Franklin. The who? Exactly. Exactly. But while she may have been overlooked in her own time, Marion's contributions live on in homes, in daycares, in target bathrooms where the diaper changing station is

always broken and the baby's screaming, and you're like, what do you want from me? Marion was shafted. But not defeated. That's all for this week. Tune in next time for the story of another woman so powerful, so determined. Her vagina almost didn't get in the way.

Almost. Good evening, I'm Dulce Sloan. And I'm Desi Lydic. Tonight the story of Willie Mae Big Mama Thornton, a trailblazer whose trail was left brutally unblazed. What? It's the story of a forgotten woman never given her due. Why didn't you just say that the first time? I don't know. Growing up near Montgomery, Alabama, Willie Mae always had a passion for singing. I love to sing. I love to sing.

At the young age of 15, she won a singing contest and eventually signed a record deal. But one day, her life changed forever when she was approached by some writers with a little song you may know called Hound Dog. I need for it to be raunchier, you know? Like something that if you could shimmy your breasts maybe, one or the other, preferably both at the same

time. But she had her own style in mind. Or what if I did it this way? You ain't nothing but a hound dog. Just snoop around my door. God damn. That is so beautiful. Thank you, white man. Willie May's soulful rendition of Hound Dog told the story of a good-for-nothing man who wants to be taken care of. It was like the great grandmother of no scrubs.

See, a scrub is a guy who thinks he's fly. I know. I think everyone knows. In 1953, Big Mama Thornton's Hound Dog reached number one on the R&B chart. But it never crossed over to the pop chart because it was seen as a race record, which is a not so not racist way of saying black music.

Willie Mae was shafted. But what she didn't know was that there was an even bigger shaft headed her way. And not the good kind. See, even though mainstream society wasn't quite ready to embrace this sound in this package. A few years later, her precious soulful hound dog found a new owner, a rising talent who was introduced to the song by a Vegas lounge act and decided to put his own spin on it.

-♪ You ain't nothing but a hound dog, crying all the time. What a cool song about dogs, huh? By the way, that really happened. Look at that dog. He's like, man, why'd you bring me into this shit? Elvis' version of hound dog was a huge smash and completely eclipsed Willie May's version. While Elvis didn't steal the song,

he did benefit from a system that ensured his music reached a wider audience. You see, Elvis was a white man. Elvis went on to become one of the greatest icons of all time. But despite it all, Willie May never lost her gift for expressing emotion in song. This is some bullshit, some real real bullshit.

Y'all want him to sing that to a dog too? All jumpsuit wearing, hip swiveling motherf*****. Willie Mae Thornton was a talented artist who launched an iconic song only to have her legacy washed away. But we remember her. And you can't wash this away. Go ahead Dulcé, show them yours. Uh, I told you I wasn't doing that, you know. She had too many names. That's all for this week. Tune in next time to hear about a woman so talented, so promising. Her vagina almost didn't get in the way. Almost. Yeah!

Good evening, I'm Desi Lydic. And I'm Dulce Sloan. This month we've been uncovering the true stories of women who were shafted. Because throughout history women have been constrained by things like gender roles, cultural biases and spanks. So mm, constricting. Mm-hmm. But tonight we tell a different story.

Sarah Howe was a 19th century entrepreneur who did reach her full potential through ingenuity and perseverance. Warning, the following content might... ...inspire you. Pfft. Born in the early 1800s, Sarah grew up hustling as a fortune teller and horoscope reader.

What is it? What is it? You're going to give me $5 and then something good will happen to you. Oh, OK, OK, OK. She even worked as a doctor despite having no medical training. And what we want to do is we want to pour the tonic right over the abdomen.

It looks like milk. Yes, no, of course it's milk. It'll make his stomach bones stronger. She was shadier than R. Kelly running a Girl Scout troop, but in 1879, Sarah left all that petty swindling behind and turned to her true colleague, stacking that cheddar. She started the ladies' deposit, a woman-only investment fund. When Sarah doubled her clients' investments within a year, women started handing over their money like they were at a Ryan Gosling kissing booth.

This sounds great. Here's all my money. You do know what they say. Cash rules everything around us. Doesn't it? It does, doesn't it? Okay, give it up. everything around us. Doesn't it? It does, doesn't it? Okay, give it up.

And the most amazing part was it was all bullshit. Sarah was running one of the first and most successful investment fraud schemes in history. She was basically Bernie Madoff in a bustle. Sarah made over half a million dollars, which would equal around 11 million today. And she preyed on over 1,200 women,

which today still equals a lot of bitches. Madam, I'm sorry to tell you, but Sarah Howe has stolen all of your money. My money was stolen by a woman? Oh, I'm so proud. But eventually, the lady's deposit was exposed, and the police deposited Sarah into jail. Sarah spent three years in jail for her crimes,

but the true prison was her gender. Because half a century later, her legacy was stolen by a man named Charles Ponzi, who became the namesake of the very scheme Sarah perfected, the Ponzi scheme. And she was dead by then, looking down from heaven, watching Ponzi get all the glory. Well, she was probably looking up from hell,

but it was still messed up. Motherf*****. But tonight we salute Sarah Howe, who shattered the glass ceiling of financial crime. Thanks to her, women everywhere can aspire to lie, cheat, and steal. Just like men. That's all for Shafted.

Tune in next time to hear about a woman so brilliant, so unrelenting, her vagina almost didn't get in the way. Almost. ["The Daily Show Theme"] ["The Daily Show Theme"] Explore more shows from the Daily Show Podcast universe by searching The Daily Show, wherever you get your podcasts. Watch The Daily Show week wherever you get your podcasts.

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