Timesuck with Dan Cummins - 248 - P.T. Barnum and His "Human Curiosities"

Episode Date: June 14, 2021

Big episode for a big, complex topic today. PT Barnum has been called the The Greatest Showman on Earth. And he certainly was the most famous promoter of the 19th century. He brought entertainment to millions, and millions loved him for it. He also stirred up a fair amount of controversy and many in the modern day have not looked back kindly on him. He often lied to his audience about the nature of his acts - and his acts were often people with physical abnormalities or deformities. Did he exploit them for profit? Yes. Without a doubt. But did he also provide for them a means to make life-changing and empowering income? He did. Does that justify the exploitation? That's up to you to decide. PT Barnum continues to entertain (and probably offend) today, on Timesuck. Hail Nimrod! The first Bad Magic Productions June charity we are proud to donate $7,050 towards is Trinity Stables. They run a speciality program in Georgia called Stable Moments, a weekly mentorship program that utilizes equine-assisted learning to achieve life skills that better prepare foster and adopted kids for healthy transitions into adulthood. To find out more, please visit: https://www.trinitystables.net/The second Bad Magic Productions June charity we are proud to donate $7,050 towards is Vintage Pet Rescue, a Rhode Island-based nonprofit committed to rescuing “vintage” aka senior pets from shelters and assisting their owners who can no longer care for their vintage pets. To find out more, please visit: https://www.vintagepetrescue.org/ Watch the Suck on YouTube: https://youtu.be/oRomYgWK-dgMerch - https://badmagicmerch.com/ Discord! https://discord.gg/tqzH89v Want to join the Cult of the Curious private Facebook Group? Go directly to Facebook and search for "Cult of the Curious" in order to locate whatever current page hasn't been put in FB Jail :) For all merch related questions/problems: [e-mail] (copy and paste) Please rate and subscribe on iTunes and elsewhere and follow the suck on social media!! @timesuckpodcast on IG and http://www.facebook.com/timesuckpodcast Wanna become a Space Lizard? We're over 10,000 strong! Click here: https://www.patreon.com/timesuckpodcast Sign up through Patreon and for $5 a month you get to listen to the Secret Suck, which will drop Thursdays at Noon, PST. You'll also get 20% off of all regular Timesuck merch PLUS access to exclusive Space Lizard merch. You get to vote on two Monday topics each month via the app. And you get the download link for my new comedy album, Feel the Heat. Check the Patreon posts to find out how to download the new album and take advantage of other benefits.

PT Barnum, the man who many have called the greatest shaman on earth. And he was one hell of a shaman undoubtedly. When it came to making a lot of money, entertaining the masses, no one, at least not during his lifetime, seems to have done it any better, but not everyone is a fan. The morality of his business decisions, heves, certainly been called into question by many. Some certainly despised him during his lifetime and some despise him now, exploring a polarizing figure today. He was for sure a bit of a scammer, definitely an exploiter.

More than a wee bit, cringy, in ways. He frequently lied about the nature of the attractions he promoted, both at his museum in New York City and in his circus, the travel to world. And many of his attractions were his so-called freaks. There was Mertel Corbin, the four-legged woman, JoJo, the dog-faced boy, Tom Thumb, a man no more than three feet for instance tall.

And while he was a child working for Barnum, a little more than two feet tall was Barnum a monster to parade these people around for money. Many would say yes. Many others would say you need to look deeper into what I just glossed over. He gave a lot of people the ability to financially provide for themselves. And in some cases grow wealthy during a time when they had few if any other options. He presented people lucrative business opportunities that no one else in the world of the 19th century was ever going to hand them So was he really so monstrous his character was complex He did take advantage of others to make his fortune

He also did pay many of his performers far more than you would think an exploiter would. He entertained millions over the course of his life, brought his performers, many of whom seemed to relish being celebrities into the White House, brought them into the homes and palaces of other leaders and royalty around the world. He also used a lot of shady and blatantly unethical tactics to take down competitors. He maligned them in the press. He purposefully damaged or destroyed their businesses to further his own endeavours. He also dished out a lot of sage and righteous advice. He also did not often practice what he preached. Such a complicated individual. Best known today for his circus, Barnum's life and compass so much more than being a three-ring promoter, he was a ground-breaking entrepreneur and advertising guru, he was a politician, he was a slave owner, and then later a staunch abolitionist. He was a fierce supporter of

the first amendment, a defender of freedom, also a master hoaxer, a humbucker who saw no shame and attempting to perfect the art of humbuckery. He was devoted husband for over 40 years, also a man who married a woman 40 years his junior just a few months after his first wife was buried. Most of all, he was a master at keeping his audience interested and willing to come back and buy another ticket. And we are still interested. I'm talking about him. You're listening. I hope you're looking forward to coming back in time with me to the 19th century today on this show biz.

That's how they do it at the circus. Prank filled morally ambiguous edition of Time Suck. This is Michael McDonald and you're listening to Time Suck. You're listening to Time Suck. Time suck, your mistake, to time suck. Happy Monday, circus lover. Welcome to the Cult of the Curious, sit down and fire up that sweet, cli-py. I'm Dan Cummins, clown hunter, trapeze artist. Maybe. Sword Swallow Instructor, maybe you get it and you are

listing the time suck nirmoral luciferina bojangles triple m you've all been hailed uh symphony of insanity stand up tours sneaking up on me looks like it is really gonna happen i'm gonna say uh it is gonna happen i'll be doing shows two weekends a month starting in august gonna be back baby uh Cleveland san Antonio spoke and Dallas Houston Portland Philadelphia Columbus Cincinnati going to be back, baby. Cleveland, San Antonio, Spokane, Dallas, Houston, Portland, Philadelphia, Columbus, Cincinnati, Atlanta, Denver, Tacoma, and more. Most dates up at Dancomans.tv for the rest of the year in the first few months of 2022. More dates being added soon. More announcements coming on social media at Dancomans comedy on Instagram, Facebook. Some cities already

sold out. Thank you so much for that. Nimrod is my daddy T and the bad magic merch.com store because Sunday is Father's Day. You know what I'm giving my dad this Sunday? Justice. I'll be calling the FBI all day long until he's finally behind bars. Enough's enough dad. You're getting the gift of consequences this year. I suggest all of you turn in your dads to the proper authorities. This Father's Day is well. The best gift you can give the world this Father's Day are less dad-related crimes. Enough about probable serial killers. Let's talk about donations before I lose all of the brand new listeners with confusing inside jokes.

For the June bad magic, productions, charity donation, try and something different. Instead of doing one big donation, we are spreading around the donation portion of the bad magic monthly subscription money to two charities. Every year we try to choose various charities in various categories. No year would be complete without a donation to an animal cause. Praiseable jangles. We are pet lovers. We're donating a total of $14,100.

Thank you. Half is going to Trinity Stables in Georgia. They run a specialty program called Stable Moments, a weekly mentorship program that utilizes equine assisted learning to achieve life skills and better prepare foster and adopted kids for healthy transitions into adulthood. For more info, go to TrinityStables.net. Our second charity is your mom.

You heard me? Your mom needs money. Your dirt bag, we're tired of her living in rags and filth and fluff and carnies for kit cats behind Jack in the box. Wait, that's not right. Sorry I blocked out for a second our second charity is vintage pet rescue He wrote island based nonprofit committed to rescuing vintage aka senior pets from shelters and assisting their owners Who can no longer care for their vintage pets? I love that term. I know they head of this charity personally Holy shit does Christen care about these animals a Our Herner Husband Mark and the team at Vintage Pet Rescue give these animals love,

attention, medical care for the last months, and I was last few years of their lives for more info visit vintagepetrescue.org. And now, for real, let's fire up that calliope. Huh? Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha that PT Barnum ever said there is a sucker born every minute. But it sure sounds like some shit he would say. Dude made a fortune misleading people. And then there's the other less famous quote that he definitely did say. Stick it in your ass and chew on it for a while.

Twinkle bridges, they spin it around, whistle dixie, tell your papi comes home, you two bit booger whistle. That's how you put the peach in the cobbler. Fry sauce, ice cucumbers, winged twice if you can hear me smiling. It reported that quote was uttered directly after Barnum suffered a massive and debilitating stroke. That's still, it offers a lot of insight into how his mind worked. Uh, JK, gosh dang!

Come on, that's crazy talk. No, the second less famous quote is, the noblest art is that of making others happy. And for living in articles and short documentaries dedicated to his life the past few days, I think it's safe to say he thought that there was a sucker born every minute and he also truly loved entertaining the shit out of those suckers. He certainly made a lot of suckers happy. He dazzled crowd with his amazing displays at the barn on the Bailey Circus. He delighted the masses with displays of human curiosities like a mermaid skeleton and

a little person Tom Thumb. Obviously, human curiosity shows do not hold up real well today. I know that. I won't try and justify their morality. However important to know that they were commonplace at the time, Barnum did not invent them, not by a long shot. He was one of many promoters who offered so-called freak shows to people very eager to buy tickets to those shows. The general public was not outraged by those shows like many would be today. The two quotes I laid out the moment ago really do present the essential two viewpoints of PT

Barn and pretty well. The first that he was essentially a fraud who made a lot of money by tricking honest people and the second that he was a showman who dazzled those honest people, those people got what they paid for. Before we get into today's timeline, which will take up the majority of the episode, we're going to first look at some of the master marketers philosophies on marketing, money, and life in general. All the ways he'd make money as a showman were generally acceptable to time, like faking a mermaid skeleton from a monkey skeleton and some fishbones.

Today they'd be considered primitive, if not deceptive. PT Barnum considered this deception its own kind of art. It was called the humbug, and he was really good at it, maybe the best. Before we go any farther, what is from a technical standpoint, stand point, a humbug? A humbug is a person or object that behaves in a deceptive or dishonest way. Often is hoax, or is a kind of practical joke.

Term was first recorded in 1751, some British student slang. And looking a little further into it, I finally now understand what Ebenezer Scrooge meant when he said, Ba-Humbug. Charles Dickens and Christmas Carol. I always thought he meant something to the effect of Christmas as rubbish. I don't like Christmas. Got here with your Christmas nonsense. I was in the ballpark. Dickens used it to suggest fraud since Scrooge considered the

celebration of Christmas and all the festivities associated with it to be a total sham suggest fraud. Since Scrooge considered the celebration of Christmas and all the festivities associated with it to be a total sham of fraud. So when he was saying, bah humbug, he was saying Christmas is bullshit. This is a bunch of nonsense. For Barnum humbugging would become a big cash cow. It was part of his marketing schemes. Holy shit, it was a good marketing. He was a master of press agent tree. An early shady form of publicity is still sometimes used today. Press agent tree agent tree is the form of publicity is still sometimes used today. Press agent tree agent tree is the practice of attracting the attention of the press through techniques that manufacture fake news methods associated with press agent tree include staged events,

publicity stunts, faux rallies or gatherings, spinning hype. The goal of press agent tree is to attract attention rather than gain understanding. Barnum would do shit like right letters to newspapers, both praising and heavily criticizing his shows under various fake names. He would write letters pretending to be some uptight moralist, you know, who was outraged and disgusted by the lured and crude nature of this show. He begged people not to go for the sake of the children. He begged the police to have Barnum thrown in jail for such obscurity. And of course, you know, these fake protests would stir up a lot of buzz, peak a lot of

interest and sell a lot of tickets. Doing press agentry like this, he was able to get newspapers to advertise the shit out of his shows for free. This was a novel idea when he did it. And I got to say pretty fucking genius. He was a shameless self promoter. And he reminds me of the Kardashians in this sense, random reference slash comparison, maybe I know. But working in LA years ago, I was shocked to learn, maybe I just naive,

that a lot of up and coming celebrities or celebrities whose fame meters had dipped and they wanted to bounce them back up or people who are already famous and just wanted to be more famous, they would and they still do pay the paparazzi to supposedly harass them outside maybe some store where the paparazzi just happens to catch them, you know, making out with, oh my goodness, another celebrity. And they're both cheating on their partners, our outrage drama. And it's all fake. You know, it's all a humbug designed to get people talking about them, to keep them relevant,

to, you know, kick up their fame meters. The celebrities will tell the paparazzi where they're going to be or they'll have, you know, somebody on behalf of them tell the paparazzi where they're going to be or they'll have, you know, somebody on behalf of them tell the paparazzi where they're going to be, what they're going to be doing, sometimes pay them to show up. And then the paparazzi will sell the picks to some tabloids, tabloids, you know, they're fed a fake scandal, all manufactured to get people talking about the celebrity to raise the profile, you know, in the hopes of pumping some adrenaline into their career. Supposedly, the Kardashians are unparalleled, fucking masters at this.

Allegedly, that is their greatest gift. So much planned, heavily contrived drama done to keep us all watching, right? Like all those leaked nude pics and sex tapes that will come out. Allegedly, they are almost always leaked by the celebrities themselves, they can go in the talk show circuit,

you know, fame and barism, oh my God, I can't believe these things got out. And it was 100% contrived. This, this type of, you know, press agentry worked out pretty well money wise for the now preposterously wealthy Kardashian family. And it worked out well for Barnum. Barnum used more traditional forms of marketing as well. He'd often just, you know, put a level of effort into marketing that some would find

maybe, maybe tacky, maybe a, maybe maybe a bit much a bit extra to promote his American museum at the corner of Broadway in Ann Street in Manhattan. He would draped the entire building and outsized banners at, you know, announcing new attractions. He'd send horse drawn wagons to New York with posters and signs promoting his museum like a lot of them. He had a staff of illustrators who would just crank out posters and pamphlets constantly. If you didn't make it to one of his shows, it certainly wasn't because you hadn't heard

about it. Barnum knew how to spend money where it counted and he knew advertising was where it counted. The copy he wrote for his ads, that's where Humbuggery came in and he had people helping write the copy as well. Barnum's skill at writing ad copy, him and his team skill, and manipulating the press would start with his very first attraction. Joyce Heth, an elderly enslaved woman that he bought and then took on the road. Heth has become exhibit A for the fuck that guy, camp of Barnum haters.

And I get it. Even by the standards of the time, Barnum's use of Heth was shameful, a point made by at least one unbought off editor. The Boston Atlas declared a more indecent mode of raising money than by the exhibition of an old woman, black or white, we can hardly imagine. By the mid 1850s, at least on paper, Barnum would become an abolitionist in a letter dated 1855. He wrote that he had grown to abhor the curse from witnessing its fruits.

Also around 1855, Barnum switched hisions from the democratic to the republican party during the civil war he ardently supported the union as the war was drawn to a close barren decided to run for the connecticut state legislature and one and once in office he fought to extend voting rights to black citizens uh... you know he did later regret his early actions with heth but still he did what he did with heth again he was complicated obviously he lived during a very different time as well. Regarding Heth, we'll get into more of her story in the timeline right now. The tactics he used to promote her are a good example of his humbuggery. After finding Heth, who was enslaved by a man

named John S. Bowling and a small time exhibit in Kentucky run by R.W. Lindsey, Barham saw for himself that the elderly blind woman who had sunken eyes and deep wrinkles indeed looked very, very old. And he learned about her alleged backstory. Whether she came up with this or Lindsey concocted this backstory as up for debate, she was said to have papers that proved that she was once

the nurse made to none other than George Washington. And if true, that would have made her around 161 years old. Over 40 years older than Japanese man, Juremon Camurra, the oldest verified human who ever lived from 18, he lived from 1897 to 2013, 116 years, 54 days old, make her older than Jean Calment, or Jeannie Jean. There we go, Calment, a French woman who lived

from 1875 to 1997, supposedly making it to 122 years and 164 days, but she may have been a fraud. Holy shit, being alive at any of those ages, based on current human quality of life standards for people over the age of 90, it sounds fucking terrible. I looked up some pictures, and Jeanne, Jermon, they both looked really fucking rough

the last few years of the lives. Right, I'm guessing both of them, regardless of how old they really were, I guess we know we have proof that Camira was the old, the AG claimed to be not so much with Calment, but I guess they were ready to go by the end. A C'mon Robotics and Nanotechnology, repair that DNA tiny computers, build me some synthetic organs, transhumanists. I want to be old and buffus fuck. I held him around.

Anyway, Bartum saw that whether true or not, a lot of people seem to wholeheartedly believe that Heth was the oldest living human by far. He talked bowling and delecing her as an exhibit immediately while John Bowling remained her legal owner. Heth allegedly played along with the ruse if she didn't invent it, telling stories about her dear little George and singing to him that she supposedly sang to the nation's first president when he was a baby. And Hess allegedly got paid for her role in the show.

Barnum would write later, she too took great delight in the humbug, which was profitable to her. While we don't know how much Barnum did pay her, we do know he paid his later acts in general very, very well. Some of them able to retire and retire young in luxury. I'll cover some of that in the timeline. It seems best case. He took someone who was already enslaved, kept them enslaved, had them continue to work

as entertainment, you know, as an entertainment attraction and paid them worse case, he bought an old woman and forced her to work herself's death. Not sure we will ever know the whole truth of this matter, unfortunately. When marketing heath, Barnum took a stealthy encounter and two of approach when they would arrive in a new city. Barnum would send a scathing anonymous letter to the editor of the paper questioning the authenticity of the world's oldest woman. This in turn would generate controversy with people writing in to give their opinions. They thought she was at all with it. She wasn't opinions, you know, that they got after buying tickets to the exhibition and seeing heath for themselves.

Whenever Barnum did this, he saw ticket sales ramp up exponentially. Barnum ended up purchasing Hess for $1,000 over $30,000 today and he went on to make over $1,500 or $45,000 today every week until she died a year later. And again, I wish I knew how much of that money she was giving. Why did Barnum attempt his counter-intuitive marketing in the first place? He knew that once he got a person to feel something strongly, whether it was excitement, curiosity, anger, spite, they would probably pay 25 cents to see what all the fuss was about. He also knew that in the end, more times and not, people would feel that they got their

money's worth. Even if they knew they'd been humbugged, and the exhibition was a fake, they would still end up entertained, and that was really what they were paying for. Barnum did not feel guilty for this kind of manipulation. He saw himself as a simple businessman. One quote of his went like this. And in what business is they're not humbuck. They're cheating in all trades, but hours is the prompt reply from the bootmaker with his brown paper souls and the grocer with his flowery sugar and chikareed coffee, the butcher with his mysterious sausages and queer veal. This quote makes me think about all the sugar and salt in various processed foods.

All the shit that everyone knows is not healthy but keeps you coming back to buy more. Makes me think of commercials with professional athletes endorsing like Coca-Cola or beer commercials featuring skinny models and bikinis. Get the fuck out of here. Drinking beer has nothing to do with looking good and bikini. Drinking soda has nothing to do with athletic performance. That implied association is some humbuggery. 2009 Taco Bell replaced 20-year sponsor McDonald's as the fast food partner for the NBA.

And again, get the fuck outta here. Taco Bell McDonald's not the places. You wanna base your nutritional needs in if you wanna be a world-class athlete. Not the best fuel for the most elite human engines. Barnum saw a humbuggery all around him. He said, all in everyone protestes each, all in everyone protest each his own innocence

and warn you against the deceits of the rest. My inexperienced friend, take it for granted that they all tell the truth about each other and then transact your business to the best of your ability on your own judgment. Before we get into the timeline, let's look at a few more bottom quotes. Even if he was a dirtbag, he was a dirtbag who gave out some great advice.

He wrote a book on how to succeed in business, the art of money, Gidey, golden rules for making money. Published in 1880, when he was seven years old after a long, life time of economic success, there are some great knowledge nuggets in this book, like this one. Whatever you do, do with all your might, work at it, if necessary, early and late, in season and out of season, not leaving a stone unturned and never deferring for a single hour, that which can be done just as well now. The old proverb is full of truth, meaning whatever is worth doing it all is worth doing

well. Holy fuck, I love that sentiment. Literally could not agree more. Expanding on this a bit more, if you wanna have the best chance at financial success, first figure out what you're good at, then figure out how to monetize what you're good at, and then like Barnum says,

work your mother fucking ass off. Be willing to work twice as hard as anyone else. I'm amazed at how many people I've known who I've worked with who are talented, and they verbally express wanting to do this or that, but they don't actually want to really work for it. In my experience, they're not willing to work, like on the weekends,

they're not willing to burn some midnight oil, they're not willing to sacrifice sleep time at the gym, having a barbecue, whatever, to really try and make their dreams come true. And if you don't really want what you have to work all those extra hours to get, then yeah, why beat yourself up, don't do it. Hit the beach, you know? Get out of up? Don't do it. Hit the beach.

Get out of the office like truly, seriously. Enjoy the day. But if you really want to get ahead in some way, odds are, that extra ahead, it's going to take extra work. I literally don't personally know anyone. I consider very career successful. I'm blanking off. That's a phrase that's terrible. I don't know anyone who's very successful in their career who doesn't put a lot of extra

hours in. Literally, the most common statement I've heard from business owners over the course of my adult life is I can't find anyone who's willing to work. And looking around my coworkers, when I was 20, I agreed with that sentiment. Over 20 years later, I still see it. A lot of people talk a big game, but they don't follow through with the hours. Because that's tough. It's not fun to make a lot of people talk a big game, but they don't follow through with the hours, because you know, that's, that's, it's tough. It's not, it's not, not fun to make a lot of sacrifices.

You might not get rich with a strong work ethic, like Barnum did, but outside of extreme events, an unforeseen and unavoidable economic calamities, you'll also rarely starve. You know, enjoy the day, carpe diem and all that, but also make hey, while the sun shines, you beautiful bastards. Hill Nimrod. I love this stuff. Barnum continues, many a man acquires a fortune by doing his business thoroughly while his neighbor remains poor for life

because he only half does it. Ambition, energy, industry, perseverance, are indispensable requisites for success and business. Fortune always favors the brave and never helps a man who does not help himself. Yes, I have a rock hard work bonus right now. Preach, bone and preach. And before I get emails, yes, I know, extenuating circumstances don't make this possible for everyone. Truly. But the very least working thoroughly, rather than half asking it guarantees you'll have a lot better

chance to success. And I've seen this. I hate to default to the same example, like a broken record, but I always think about something I saw, it's been almost fucking 20 years now. But I'll just never forget, just a memory burned into my brain. I've seen various other examples like this around just being out traveling, around living life, whatever. But I just, just listen to this guy at this independent coffee shop, bitch about how Starbucks was putting him out

of business. Starbucks had moved in down the street. And as I'm listening to this, I'm assuming owner of this little mom pot coffee shop, I'm waiting at the counter of his business, trying to order one of his fucking coffees and he couldn't give a shit. And I was like, no, dude, that's why

you're going out of business, not Starbucks. Your own shitty work ethic. And you know, is what's happening here. You know, I've known people with odd stacked against them, no family support, health problems, bad luck, et cetera, et cetera. And they still get shit down and make headway in life. They're just determined. They're tenacious motherfuckers.

And that's what it takes. No matter what, I don't hear them making excuses or blaming others for the shortcomings. And then I've known other people with seemingly every advantage and just watch them piss it away. They always have excuses. masters of the blame game. I talked to my kids, Kyler Monroe, about personal responsibility a lot about how

if their teacher or their boss thinks that they fucked up, well then odds are there's a good chance they probably did fuck up. You know, if they get feedback about being lazy, well then maybe they are lazy. Don't just automatically assume someone's out to get you at it, your teacher, your boss is just, you know, just trying to be a dick.

You always blame others, how are you ever gonna improve? What incentive do you have to get better? that your teacher, your boss is just, you know, just trying to be a dick. You always blame others. How are you ever going to improve? What incentive do you have to get better? If shit is always someone else's fault, you guys have made me a better podcaster. Absolutely for sure. Because I listen to the, you know, the critical emails. I don't always put a lot of them in the updates because I don't want to have like this negative energy, but I'm so grateful I get them.

I'm like, yeah, now you're right. You know, sometimes somebody comes in and stings a little bit, but I'm like, no, you're right. I fucked up there. Uh, thank, yeah, now you're right. You know, sometimes somebody comes in and stings a little bit but I'm like, no, you're right. I fucked up there. Thank God my kids are not excuse makers. Make me proud to hear their teachers consistently compliment those little fuckers work ethics. Gotta see Kyler who's a big fucker now. Get a few awards at a band concert to sit on it. I got the band director's highest award for coming into school early to volunteer his time to provide percussion for the choir. Yes, he's a huge nerd, but a hard working nerd. I love him for it.

I'm in Rose Missing Out family events now more and more because she's busy babysitting and it doesn't make me sad, it makes me very proud of her. Barnum saw the pursuit of money as a noble one. Fuck yeah, can't pay your rent on dreams and good intentions. He didn't think it was a bad thing to want to get rich. Of this, he said, the history of money getting, which is commerce, is a history of civilization,

and wherever trade has flourished most there to have any art and science produced the noblest fruits. In fact, as a general thing, money getters are the benefactors of our race. To them, in a great measure, we are indebted for our institutions of learning and of art, our academies, colleges, and churches. I had no idea I'd get so much motivation out of this episode. I really didn't.

Especially since going into it, I couldn't stand this too. Barnum's first tenant of becoming successful surprised me. So simple. Health. He'd say, the foundation of success in life is good health. That is the substratum fortune. I probably should have looked up substratum. That is the substratum fortune.

It's also the basis of happiness. The person cannot accumulate a fortune very well when he is sick. So true. I feel terrible for people with chronic illnesses, right? So much harder to accomplish just about anything at all when you're in pain, when you're tired, when your mind is foggy, when you don't feel good, you're nauseous, et cetera.

Those of you who have overcome illness to succeed in life, big hail to you. Hail to rising above, hope you're insanely proud of yourself. You should be. If you're in good health, don't take that shit for granted. Cherish it, protect it.

I struggle with that one. I get real lazy with my diet. I'm getting better, but I still often eat like shit. I know I won't research as well after a carb heavy meal, as I will after something lighter, more more protein-centric and healthier. But sometimes I still choose shit because I don't even know why. I feel like I deserve it.

Classic emotional eating. Same with working out. I know I'll feel better after a good workout, but I'll still often make an excuse not to, just on of time. I'm too tired. But if I did the workout, then I'd have more energy. I accomplished more and a shorter amount of time, so I would have more time to work out. I have more energy. Blah blah blah.

I want to kick my own lazy ass right now. Barnum's advice for people just getting started with their lives is also worth hearing. The safest plan, he said, and the one most sure of success for the young man started in life is to select the vocation which is most congenial to his tastes. Son of a bitch! I basically said the same thing earlier, not knowing who's going to say this. It's not like I thought of it, by the way. Or that I thought I came up with it by the way.

I've heard other practical successful people, more successful than me. Say this same shit. Pick what you're best at to try and succeed. You'll have the best odds at success. So pragmatic. Barnum also cautioned about going into debt. Young man started in life shit and he says, man, all the time, because, you know, 18, 18, 19th century, 1800s.

Young man starting life shit, avoid running into debt. There is scarcely anything that drags a person down like debt. If he succeeds in paying and then gets trusted again, he is adopting a habit, which will keep him in poverty through life. Debt robs a man of his self-respect and makes him almost despise himself. I learned that one from Pop Award. I've awarded not like credit. Don't live above your means. And look, sometimes credit I do think debt unavoidable. Sometimes life fucks you and credit keeps the ship from totally sinking. I absolutely get that, but other times, oftentimes people confuse wants with needs and they really fuck themselves.

They buy a bunch of toys, they really can't afford, they get themselves in a whole heap of trouble, there was a hundred percent avoidable. They buy on credit, they can't pay the credit off, then the compound interest monster grows into a big, mean-ass monkey on their back that just keeps fucking them. Then they become a slave to their shit, right? The wants you buy should lift you up, not way you down. on their back that just keeps fucking them. Then they become a slave to their shit. Right? To want you by should lift you up, not way you down. Barnum would also warn against making your whole life about money, maybe a weird position

for someone who seemed to be so obsessed with money, but at least he preached a pretty balanced view. He'd say money is in some respects like fire. It's a very excellent servant, but a terrible master. Love this too. Money should serve you, not vice versa. If you let it become your end all, be all, your master, it will own you, it'll chase it forever,

and it'll never be enough. Barnum extrapolated on this idea when he added, those who really desire to attain an independence have only to set their minds upon it and adopt the proper means as they do in regard to any other object which they wish to accomplish. And the thing is easily done.

And lastly, since he was the King of Hokes' it's interesting to hear his take on honesty and business. The public very properly shun all whose integrity is doubted, no matter how polite and pleasant and accommodating a man may be. None of us dare to deal with him if we suspect false weights and measures. Okay, interesting advice. Somebody who made a living off of line, maybe made sense though, you know, to hype up his shows, Barna was a king of bullshit, but when he came to delivering, when he came to paying his vendors, his debts, his circus stars, his support crew, you can fuck around. I think that's what he meant by honesty.

Integrity is so important in business, reminds me of a Warren Buffett quote, I love Warren Buffett quotes. This one is it takes 20 years to build a reputation in five minutes to ruin it. If you think about that, you'll do things differently. Fuck yeah, fuck yeah, bro. Guard that reputation. So those were a few of the highlights from the art of money getting or golden rules for making money. Central message of that book is that there aren't any shortcuts to wealth. Arnhem says that the past to wealth is picking the right career path, having a good character and working your ass off. And you know, advertising will.

character and working your ass off. And you know, advertising will. I was one of several books, Barham Rotes. His autobiography would be revised and reprinted numerous times, started in 1855 when he was 45. We leaned on his autobiography for some of the info in the suck. It was called Life of PT Barham. Other books he authored included Gotcha dummy in 1865. You actually thought I found a real giant, you fucking idiot?

Published in 1869 and Holy fuck, I'm rich because you're stupid. Published in 1872. Or maybe that's not true. Maybe other books, other books. Maybe other books he authored included the humbugs of the world in 1865, struggles and triumphs in 1869. And I also published books for children of wild animals and some thrilling adventures. He was busy.

Okay. Now that we have an idea of how his mind worked and how that mind would go on to change the world of showbiz, time to really get to know the man in this week's Time Suck timeline. Right after today's sponsor break, thank you for listening and now showbiz. Shrap on those boot soldier.

We're marching down a time-sug-time line. On July 5th, 1810, Phineas Taylor Barnum is born in Bethel, Connecticut, and yes, his real name is Phineas. It's in the cartoon character, uh, Phineas of Phineas and Ferb. Can't confirm if Phineas, the cartoon character, was named after him. His father was an in-keeper Taylor and shop owner named Fylo Barnum. Fuck's going on with his family. Phineas and Fylo. Come on, those are weird names, right? I guess Phineas is Hebrew and origin,

drive from a minor biblical character, Fylo's Greek. I've never met a Phineas or a Fylo in my life. Phineas's mother was Fylo's second wife. Picky Pecky Ping Pong Taylor. JK, her name is Irene. I was just hoping her name would be like an even more uncommon p-name than Benius' or Philo. In total, the couple had 10 children from their marriage and their previous marriages, 19th century. So, rough on uteruses and vaginas.

Benius was a third great grandson of Thomas Barnum, born in 1625 in England. He'd bring his lineage to Connecticut before Dine in 1695. He purchased land in Connecticut in 1625 in England. He'd bring his lineage to Connecticut before dying in 1695. He purchased land in Connecticut in 1673, less than four decades after the colony of Connecticut was first established. He was the first Barnum in North America and early American. Benius' maternal grandfather, Phineas Taylor, born in 1760,

was a character, the funny stories about him coming up in the timeline. He was a politician, legislator, landowner, justice of the peace, and lottery schemer. Barnum had some creative money makers, some schemers in the family tree. More on early lotteries in a bit, I found that part fascinating. Finneas would have a big influence on his favorite grandson, but you had a special relationship. Finneas Taylor even gifted the boy the deed to his own quote unquote island when he was born. We'll get to that soon too. That's a fun story. Barnum would say in his autobiography about Papi Phineas, I was his pet and spend probably

the larger half of my waking hours in his arms during the first six years of my life. My good mother estimates that the amount of lump sugar which I swallowed from his hands during that period could not have been less than two barrels. Two barrels of sugar for baby boy. Sounds like a good grandpa. He got his taste for a good joke from his grandfather too. He said, my grandfather would go farther, wait longer, work harder and contrive deeper to carry out a practical joke than for anything else under heaven. I love this dude's grandpa. He took one joke pretty fucking far that we're going to find out. We're going to learn about a bit. Barnum's paternal grandfather was

captain E from or e-frame, Barnum of Bethel, a captain in the militia in the Revolutionary War. In his biography, Barnum wrote that Captain, I think it's Ephraim. Ephraim was of a lively turn of mind and relished a joke better than the average of mankind. Sounds like he had two good grandpa's. Sounds like he had a good sense of humor in the family. Well, an awesome way to start out in life, right? It's a blessing to have one solid grandparent. On PT's autobiography, he mostly skips over the first seven years of his life. Not much happened. He says, aside from his grandpa, cramming him with sugar, loading him up with pennies to buy candy and raisins, which Graham's instructed Phineas to buy at the

lowest possible price. The store was sell the candies for. Pappy Taylor was a shrewd bargainer. He taught Young Barnum to be the same. Barnum mentions it before he was five. He began to save pennies and six penses. By the time he was six and 1816, his candy, love and grandpa grandpa told him that all the coins he'd collected amounted to one dollar. He was pumped. Grandpa Taylor told the boy to come with him and he would show him something worth having. Barnum put all his heart and crash into his pocket, handkerchief, and went with his grandfather to the village tavern. Love that that was a thing. These people just had all the time back then, a pocket handankerchief, not a wallet, pocket hankerchief.

Grandpa said to the barkeep, here is the richest boy in this part of the country. He has a dollar in cash. I wish you to take his change and give him a silver dollar for it. This was a huge moment for Barnum. He would write, never have I seen the time nor shall I ever again

when I felt so rich, so absolutely independent of all the world. As I did when I looked at that monstrous big silver dollar and felt that it was all my own, talk of cartwheels, there was never one half so large as that dollar looked to me. I believe without the slightest reservation, this entire earth and all its contents

could be purchased by that wonderful piece of bullion and that it would be a bad bargain at that. I love little k logic. You want more of those shiny coins? In 1816, a dollar, according to inflation calculators, worth about 20 bucks. It's a day, I love it. I remember my grandpa, actually my grandpa and my grandma.

He gave me a savings account when I was nine or 10. When I'd saved up over $100 mow and lawns, I felt loaded. I flipped into Sears from JC Penny catalogs and all of all the toys I could buy. It felt powerful. My daughter, Ben Rowe got really into saving money a year or two ago, maybe two or three years. She'd count and recount her money all the time. It was hilarious. Just bring out her little water cash. Just constantly be counted. I didn't want to put it in the bank

because she liked the the feel of the cold hard cash in her palm. She too felt so rich. She could afford to go to Target, you know, get whatever shopkins that were selling, get her such a good feeling of independence, such a cool and cute childhood moment. Also, the age of six, bottom started going to school in Bethel, Bethel's a town in Fairfield County, Connecticut, about 69 miles from New York City.

Population was 18,584 to 2010 census, way less back in 1810, historians have estimated that the population was under 2000, around 1700 residents before 1860. Sometime in 1820 when PT was 9 or 10, he finally went to check out the magnificent island. His grandfather had deeded him at birth. He knew it as Ivy Island.

For almost his entire life, which granted, not very long at this point, Barnum had heard his grandfather jokingly tell people that Barnum was the richest boy around, the only boy in this part of the country who owned his own Ivy Island. When the day in 1820 came, he finally got to visit his mom, said to him, now don't become so excited when you see your property as let your joy make you sick. For remember, riches you are, that it will be 11 years before you can come into possession of your fortune. Barnum was fucking pumped.

Couldn't wait to see his private island. He daydreamed for years, right? About the grand house he could have built there some day, all the adventures he'd have. He had all kinds of plans for this island. He and his grandpa, they proceeded to trudge through a substantial bit of bog and swamp to make it to this, quote unquote, ivy island.

And when you finally stepped over, little makeshift bridges, grandpa constructed. He laid his eyes upon his land and it was not what he had hoped like not even close this is so fucked up he's just a tiny little dirt heap in the middle of the swamp surrounded by essentially just a shitty little pond he had been duped big time this whole thing was one of his granpas fucked up jokes he wrote later the truth flashed upon me i've been the laughing stalker the family and neighborhood for years. My valuable Ivy Island was an almost inaccessible, worthless bit of barren land. And while I stood deploring my sudden downfall, a huge black snake, one of my tenants approached

me with an upraised head. I gave a shriek and rushed for the bridge. This was my first and need I not say my last visit to Ivy Island. His family neighbors would give him shit about his wealth and his island for years. just, you know, ribbon about this joke, especially grandpa Phineas. Clearly his family headed unusual since he's humor. I mean, wow, I love a good practical joke. And while I find this one to be pretty damn funny, it's also, it's also pretty fucked up, pretty cruel. Dude was, you know, 10 years old. They even built this up his entire life, whole families in on it. Mom, grandpa, you know, 10 years old. They even built this up his entire life, whole families in on it, mom, grandpa, you know,

obviously everybody else is keeping the secret. They went hard on this joke. I love messing with my kids for like a few minutes, maybe like a day or a little bit longer. I guess I did lie to my kids for a couple of years and told them that their grandma was part of a Japanese drumming troupe and toured the world. But they weren't like invested in that one.

That was just like a weird piece of tribute that they bought for a couple years. I'm way more fucked up than the average person. And I would feel terrible if I'd gotten Kyler Monroe all pumped up to an inherit like magical land, some magical island for years. And then I just take them out and swamp, just show them a dirt mound. Here's your little island, you fucking idiot! Ha ha, got your stupid! I can't believe you trusted your entire family.

And everyone you know, to not lie to you, your whole life, about something that has become the most important thing in the world to you. Ah, this incident had to strongly influence who he became. His future love of humbuggery. God, they got him hard. Make me imagine some sort of like really horrible hidden camera prank show, right? When we get to see people react to find out

they've been lied to their entire lives about something really important. Just some parents sitting down with some like 18 year old. Sherry, you know, we've been talking about your college fun for your whole life. You know that. You know, we've been setting aside money each and every year for 18 years.

We've told you, if you don't want to use it for school, you can use it to start a small business. You can use it to put it towards a down payment on a house. We have never told you how much it's worth. Well, today's the big day. You might want to sit down for this. Your college fund, after 18 years of contributions, is worth $18.

We put $1 aside each and every year for 18 years. How money is that? Jokes on you, you can't afford to go college. You can't start a business, you can't everybody else. Outside of being ruthlessly pranked, it seems Barnum's childhood was pretty typical. He was raised in a Christian household. His mom rewarded him for getting every word right

from pastures and the New Testament and the catac chism, catac chism, there we go. You can tell I didn't study it a lot. There was a little token the kids would receive for reciting the right words and Barnum and enjoyed collecting the many pieces needed for the tiny prize. It was ultimately involved. You would continue to go to church on Sunday throughout his life, humbuggery and religion.

Coexisted just fine in his head and hearted appears. He was also expected to help out a lot around the house and had his father's business as kids, you know, were expected to back then. One of Poppall filos, side businesses businesses was a farm where PT had the responsibility of driving and fetching the cows carrying in firewood, shelling corn, weeding beets and cabbages. His grandpa also let him make some side money on the farm. He would let him do extra work like riding the horse that would lead the ox team and pull the plow for 10 cents a day. Then he takes a 10 cents and buy him a lasses and make some candy and sell that candy to other kids in the area.

Love it. God, it was not that smart as a kid or industrious. Maybe I just didn't have the same kind of people advising me. I don't know. It just never occurred to me to take what little money I had and instead of just spending it, just instead of just blowing it or just letting it sit in an account, actually reinvesting it into something that could make more money. I was just like, so wee, I can get some candy.

I can get some baseball cards. Kyler and Monroe though, both of them actually sold candy at school. I don't know who told them about it or how they thought of it, but they started buying these big bags of mints. You know, they just cost them a couple bucks and then they would sell the mints at school for just like a quarter each, like a quarter per little mint and And dumb kids actually bought that.

And they made a hell of a profit. And tell the school shut them down because some of their classmates were not able to eat their hot lunch. They blew all their fucking hot lunch money on overpriced mint. No one shut down Barnum. During the holidays, he'd expand his offerings, offering additional sugary options and cherry rum. He found a market for cherry rum and soldiers saw the good old days When a child could make homemade rum and sell it to grownups.

In addition to being a young businessman, Barnum was also a good student throughout school, with only a few people thought to be ahead of him. He was especially skilled at math. He once wrote, In arithmetic, I was unusually quick. And I recollect at the age of 12 years, being called out of bed one night by my teacher,

who would lay to small wager with a neighbor that I could figure up and give the correct number of feet in a load of wood in five minutes. He did it in two minutes. How fucking weird is it that his teacher felt comfortable coming over to his parents house and having him woken up late at night to help him win a bet. That sounds like his teacher was drunk. That sounds like a drunk decision. It's like he's out of some tavern. It's no, no, no, no. I don't have a weight. No, we can sell this now. We sell this right now. Well, they can wake him up. They're waking up. I'm carrying a kid. Oh, my money. I'm a crush number. He's a little nerd. Also, the age 12,

Barnum would learn a valuable business lesson during his first trip to New York in 1822. Papa Filo, now keeping a tavern hosted a guest named Daniel Brown of Southbury, Connecticut. Brown had rode to the Barnum House with a herd of fat cattle. He was planning to take to New York to sell to a slaughterhouse. Young PT had never been outside his small town. New York seemed like a big foreign country. The young Barnum listened to the man as he told his visit ventures in the big city and beyond and he was awestruck. And when Brown mentioned, he was looking for

a boy to run alongside the cattle and assist in driving. Barnum only 11 at the time. He knew he needed to be that boy. Filo was hesitant, but Barnum bugged his dad until he agreed. Now this little farmer kid with a spark of something was headed off to New York for a visit and with a job. And how fucking weird is this? This is weirder than the teacher stuff. Very different times. Imagine sending your 12 year old off with some dude, you don't really know.

Some dude who just swung through your tavern. You know, and you're sending him out of town with this guy, you're a kid for like roughly a week. Some dude you can't call or text. If your kid goes missing, you have no way of finding this dude, or at least it would be very hard. Imagine some dude asking to take your boy with him to New York now, all right?

I'm hoping to take a boy to New York with me for the week, help with the horses. I could hire a full grown man a wrecking, but I prefer a boy. I'd like a boy for the journey. That's the guy I'd be okay with murdering today. Like if you told me in private that a person, a stranger, wanted to bring your 12 year old boy with him to New York for a week

And then you told me that you know 30 seconds later you killed this guy. I would never turn you in All right, I would reassure you the pride of the right thing Barnum's job started the next morning night before he left for the trip He was so excited. He couldn't sleep. He dreamed of cities paved with gold and castles rising high into the air Little over the top, but you know, he was 12 Trip itself was not as glamorous as he'd hoped. At one point, a horse fell and rolled over Barnum's foot, giving him a bad spring. He didn't want to complain, lose the gig.

So he struggled to keep up for a few hours, then Brown took pity on him and letting Ride be hind him on a horse most of the way. All in all, the trip lasted a week and Barnum would get a great lesson in economics while he was there. His mom had given him a dollar for his trip expenses and Barnum thought that would be plenty. Such a simple time compared to now. Here's a dollar. Enjoy your week long trip to the city with a total stranger. When PT got to New York, he went to a confectionary store and bartered down the price of a few oranges. His trip was starting off well. She agreed to give him a good deal, only if he promised

a shop with her exclusively for all his fruit needs will in town. He agreed. He now had some tasty oranges, a delicacy in New England at the time and he still had 80 cents in his pocket. Life was great. Then he decided to reward himself for making such a shrewd bargain by buying an amazing toy gun that fired a little wooden stick decent distance. About that from the same lady, she sold toys too. None of the other kids back home, whatever seen a toy like that, he's pumped.

And then that night because he was 12, he went into the bar room with the hotel, he and his business, you know, partner, man, buddy were staying at, and he started shooting around this toy gun wildly in a room full of paying customers. What could go wrong? Solid 12 year old decision making. He soon nails a barkeep, right in the eye. Of course he does. And then that guy runs him down and proceeds to quote boxes ears until Barnum's head rung because 1822, the good old days, when it was socially acceptable, just to beat other people's children.

Barnum's feelings were hurt. He thought he was just, he was just being funny. You know, it's just like a joke like his grandpa would play and then the guy overreacted. Next day, he returns to the toy shop by something called a torpedo, which when thrown into the ground with any force would explode loudly.

Sounds to me like one of those like snap pops, you know, bang pops, bang snaps, people people calling different things. A little simple paper fireworks that bang and spark when you throw them against the ground or maybe your little sister's leg. He bought six cents worth of these torpedoes, returns to the bar room, takes two of his pocket, throws him as hard as he can against the side of the hall where the crowd is passing. Incredibly, instead of being amused, people are angry.

The owner now gets a hold of PT, it's maximum in the face. Because again, it's 1822. PT's bummed, nobody likes his pranks. To console himself, he returns to the toy store the next day. It's dignity bruised. Now he buys a watch, a breast pin, a top. He also gets some candy. Anything's to himself, I'm still a rich man.

He goes to bed that night with 11 cents, dreaming of showing off his possessions to everybody back home. He has another opportunity to go to the store the next day. When he does, he notices some items he hadn't seen before. And one of them is an awesome two-bladed knife with a gillant to corkscrew, fuck yeah. He had to get it. I understand, I had to have shit like that when I was 12.

Sometimes I still wonder what happened to my cool ass Rambo knife. That sweet ass knife was 31 cents. He only has 11. He's devastated. He wrote, I learned my astonishment that my funds were exhausted, but have the knife I must.

So I proposed to my kind friend, the shopwoman, that she should receive back the top and breast pin at a slight reduction from what I had paid for them. And then taking my 11 cents, she'd let me have the knife. The kind creature consented and thus I made my first swap.

He proceeds to trade back his little toy gun for reduced price, other toys, you know, implements, and now he gets that knife. But now he has no money. He hadn't thought shit through because, you know, again, he's 12. So later that same day, he wants some candy and he trades back the knife for some candy.

Papa Taylor turned him into a sugar junkie. Barnum was so hard up for that sweet candy that right before he leaves town to return to Connecticut, he even trades the nice, with a nice lady who has a son about his age, his two pocket hanger chips for more of that delicious kid crack. And he trades a pair of extra stockings, his mom had given him for the trip as well. So now, when it's all said and done, he heads back home to Bethel, has no money, no cool last knife, a couple fewer possessions that he had when he left.

He said about his journey later, I had a thousand questions to answer and found my brothers and sisters much disappointed that I'd brought them none of the fruits of my dollar. My mother examined my wardrobe and finding it two pocket hanker chips and one pair of stockings short, I was whipped. And sent to bed. So many beatings on this journey.

He continued, thus terminated my first visit to New York. I was however, for a long time, quite a line among the schoolboys for I had been to New York and seen with my own eyes many wonders which they had only heard tell of. Barnum would learn so much in this trip. He learned how careless people could be with their money when they really, really wanted something. And he later got rich being good at figuring out what people really wanted, what they would spend a lot of money to save.

August of 1825, PT's maternal grandma steps on a rusty nail in her garden and dies, not immediately. Took a few days. I worded it strangely. What an old time you think to die from. Thank you, scientists, for tennis shots. PT, Freshly 15, has overcome by the weight of his grandma's passing.

He promised her on her deathbed that he would do good by God and by his fellow man. He would not always do good by his fellow man, but none of us always do. PT was working on some new business ventures by the time he was 15. He learned a lot again in that New York trip, how to be resourceful. He saved up enough to do an odd jobs to buy a sheep, a calf, a few other possessions. He'd also come to the realization that farm work was not for him, not long-term. He hated physical work. He went as far as to call himself lazy when it came to physical work. He wasn't lazy. He just didn't like manual labor. He liked working with his mind. After convincing his father, he wasn't cut out for farm life. His

dad, Philo, got him a position at a shop in town. It was actually a Philo shop, which he owned in partnership with a different guy named Hyram Weed. Hyram Weed, that's a pretty sweet name. There they sold dry goods, groceries, hardware, no marijuana, I don't know if other items locals would need. Barnum loved it. He never looked back on, he would never look back on farm work again. Now it's not of himself as a proper gentleman with a proper job. He could devote himself to the art of haggling, one of his favorite pastimes.

He practiced how to strike a good bargain, how to use exaggerations and careful deceptions to make a sale. He didn't care who he's making a trade with or a sale. Anyone with a fair game, shopkeeper in New York didn't care that he was a kid. Why should he care? He would write that he drove many a sharp trade with old women who traded for their purchases in butter or eggs

and men who exchanged for our commodities, hats and hickory nuts. Soon he started to buy candy from his dad's store under his personal account and then he would sell that candy to kids when they came in his dad's store. That's so weird to me. It's like, it's not, it's not like he was like reselling his dad's shit. I worked at a grocery store when I was a teen.

My last two years of high school, I can't imagine buying candy from the store, then reselling that same candy to kids coming into that same store. I picture Barnum whispering to kids, you know, it's a cast register. Say, hey, don't buy this from here. Don't buy it from the store.

I get this stuff at a wholesale price. I can tell you better deal. Just buy it from, just buy, meet me out back. He would then graduate quickly into what would be considered his first real humbug, the lottery. Americans have long loved a lottery. Some of the US earliest and most prestigious colleges, such as Harvard, William and Mary, I should probably say prestigious. Since I'm talking about Harvard, William and Mary, Yale and Princeton, funded by Lotteries. Historian Neil Milliken, using newspaper advertisements in the colonial era, found at least 392

Lotteries were held in the 13 colonies. The financiers of Jamestown, Virginia, for instance, funded Lotteries to raise money to support their colony. The early post-independence era legislators commonly authorize Lotteries to raise money to support their colony. The early post independence era legislators commonly authorized Lotteries to fund schools, roads, bridges, other public works. On the 1790s, the average resident of New York and Philadelphia spent the modern equivalent of $1,400 a year on Lotterie tickets. These Lotteries were controversial back then, just like for many gambling, this controversial

now. Attitudes were mixed on how honest they were, how good gambling was for embedding a good work ethic in the general public. Evangelical reformers in the 1830s began denouncing lotteries on moral grounds and petition legislatures and constitutional conventions to ban them. By the 1850s, lotteries would take a sour turn

in the eyes of many of the public and would go underground. But back in the 1820s, lotteries were still fair game for a vast number of people looking to improve themselves by taking a spin on a metaphorical wheel of fortune. And a lottery of Barnum's store, even the good Christian kids were encouraged by their parents to pay a small fee for the chance to win cakes, oranges, molasses candy. Such a simple game reminds me of cake raffles, cake walks. They didn't high school to raise money. Buy a ticket for a dollar for the chance to win a cake. Barnum sold tickets for less than it would cost to buy some candy if you won,

and in the process, because of how many he sold, he would make way more money on the candy through these lotteries than he would if he just sold it straight up. And it was more fun, right? People love the rush of gambling, more fun to win something than it is to buy it. I get it.

Reminds me of those, you know, a claw arcade games, or like carnival prizes. It's been 30 bucks to win a shitty stuffed animal that would cost you five bucks in a store. I used to love winning prizes for Kylerman Row in those claw games. I'm a sucker, just like everybody else. At 1820s, we're a crazy time in the US when it came to Lotteries. The time when people would gamble at Lotteries to raise money for church. And then, you know, the pastor at church would preach against gambling. Barna was still a teenager. Now, he was the manager of his own Lotterie. On September 7th, 1825, the pastor at church would preach against Camelot. Barnum was still a teenager. Now he was the manager of his own lottery. On September 7th, 1825, PT's father gets sick.

He fever, dies at only 48 years old. So many people died of illness back then. Barnum is still just 15. His mom now has five kids to raise on around the youngest being seven. Fortunately, PT's mom was industrious as well. She took several different jobs, managed to make ends meet. Barnum helped bring in money as well. He was able to get a job as a clerk at a store, a mile northwest of Bethel, in a place called Grassy Plain. His salary was rooming more

plus $6 a month. He got right back to running more lottery. On Sundays, Barnum would head to his mom's house to spend time with the family, do laundry, go to church. Even after her husband's death, mom of Barnum would still keep the town tavern for years, and that worked out really well for PT. It allowed him to meet the love of his life. During one of PT's visits, a young customer asked him to escort her back home. Barnum explains, I went in and was introduced to a fair, rosy, cheeked, Bucksome-looking girl, with beautiful white teeth named Cherry Haylet. Hallet. There we go. Of course, Cherry was nicknamed,

which I subsequently learned meant charity. I assisted the young lady into her saddle with soon mounted on my own horse and we trotted slowly towards Bethel. Barnum was instantly smitten. He wrote the brief view that I had of this girl by candlelight, had sent all sorts of agreeable sensations through my bosom.

I was in a state of feeling quite new to me, and as unaccountable as it was novel. I opened a conversation with her and finding her affable and in no degree, prim or stuck up. That might have been the most polite description of getting horny I've ever read. All sorts of agreeable sensations to my bosom. Much more eloquent and classy than the brief you I had of her made my dick so fucking hard. Holy diamond cutter, hell is the fena.

I could have driven wooden nails to my dick into concrete. Woo! Barnum soon wished a trip was 20 miles instead of one. On the trip he learned that she was a tailor. He wanted to learn more. But when he returned to Bethel on subsequent Sundays, he didn't see her. It would be quite some time before he would properly see her again. Two years later, in the summer of 1827, the owners of the store, Barnum, worked at sold

their business. He would remain working under new ownership for a while, but back in autumn of 1826, a friend of Barnum's name Oliver Taylor, possibly a distant cousin, had offered him a position at his store in Brooklyn and now Barnum decided to take him up on it. So back to New York, he goes, the store was at the corner of, excuse me, it stores at the corner of Sands and Pearl. The job required Barnum to get up early, which wasn't his thing. This is so strange. He quickly invented a kind of like an early wake-up call service. A person would pull the string. It was attached to Barham's toe and the string ran out the window down three stories down to the street, and that would wake him up.

And he paid somebody to pull that string down on the sidewalk two shillings a week. What the fuck? I guess this is clever, but also what a great way to have some asshole just like yank your toe halfway off your foot in the middle of the night. A picture young baron just painfully limping along one morning. What happened PT? Some hoodlum jerked my toe string. Nearly decapitated my most important podiatary digit.

And this new job baron quickly became familiar with how everything worked. Soon, almost all the day-to-day tests, which included goods to purchase, how much of them were left to him. He visited markets, wholesale, auctions, other trading hotspots, where he got lower prices by paying in cash. He would also team up with other business owners to buy goods in bulk for a large discount. Learned a lot about business, right?

Then the men would split up what they needed. He was also able to track down that shopkeeper who had humiliated him when he was 12 but let him keep trading shit back, you know, over and over again, you know, until he had nothing. And he bought that sweet knife from her again and he fucking killed her with it.

Dun, dun, dun, dun, pay back motherfucker. No, he didn't do that. He became popular in merchant circles for his success and work ethic, but the lifestyle wasn't for him. He didn't like being on a fixed salary. He later saved my disposition is and ever was of a speculative character. And I'm never content to engage in any business and let it is of such a nature that my profits

may be greatly enhanced by an increase of energy, perseverance, attention to business, tact, etc. I get it. As part of what appealed to me about comedy, no fixed income ceiling. I mean, of course, you know, you can also do it for years and make nothing, and that's not fun. But while you're making nothing,

you can still dream that you might make quite a bit for doing the same job you already love, and that's super fun. Not everyone has a stomach for it, but it keeps life interesting. Some people gamble with Lotteries, Barnum, myself, we like to gamble with our entire careers. Barnum wanted to see exponential increases

according to his effort and good judgments, and that just wasn't happening in Brooklyn. February of 1828, Barnum decides to venture out on his own. That month his grandfather, Phineas, wrote to him and said that if Barnum came to Bethel, he could establish some kind of business and live rent-free in half of his grandpa's carriage house. Barnum agreed. And when he made a back home, he found out that the carriage house was located on that fucking swamp island. And the business was a lemonade stand. He was allowed to run.

Boom, motherfucker, got you again with another pop of prank. How idiot? You quit your job. You moved back home because you trusted me, your grandpa, the man who made you the laughing stock of our entire town, when you were 10, you fool. No, grandpa was good this time. Grandpa let bottom turn a part of the carriage house where he got to stay for free into a retail fruit and confectionary store, sourcing his products from his connections in New York City. The tiny store had its grand opening on the first Monday of May 1828.

Barnum had candy, fruit, a barrel of ale, some other goods he hoped to sell. He later said that he was never as nervous as he was for his first real business venture to open. I love it. It was adorable. Barnes was worth all of 120 bucks, about $3,600 today. He put everything he had into this one small store. He was also just 17, still two months away from his 18th birthday. He barely slept the night before the grand opening. He was so nervous. He just wanted it so bad.

It's so much passion for seeing us succeed. Barnes worries were all for nothing. By noon, on opening day, he was so busy, he had to call in an old school friend to help him out. Hail Nimra! By the end of the day, the ale barrel was dry, the goods were mostly sold, and he had 63 bucks in his days for seats. He knew he had himself a winner.

Over the next few days, he re-upped on ale and brought in more New York City goods, pocketbooks, combs, breads, pocket knives, toys, and he sold them all. Throughout the summer, his business boomed, and the winner, he added stew stood oysters to his inventory, which apparently for some reason generated an even greater profit. I don't mind an oyster, but I didn't know that a stood oyster was such a hot ticket item. His grandpa then advised that he start up another lottery and he did actually started a

super lottery contracting other lottery that the rate of 10% commission. The lottery agency got bigger and bigger offering larger cash prizes and of course more profits for Barnum himself. He learned all sorts of tricks within a lottery business that would eventually be the reason that lottery's would be banned in the near future. Barnum was raking in the dough. He got offers for many to set up a lottery agency in New York, New Jersey, as far as Nashville, but he wouldn't budge. It wasn't ready to move. He had a situation with a young tailor and Bethel that needed to be dealt with. He even holding on to a boner for many years. He needed release. He reconnected with the girl he escorted home from the family tavern in the summer of 1829. Barnum, just 19 years old, asked cherry halit. Halit. God. What do I want to call her? Haylot. Cherry

halit to marium. She was only 21 at the time and she accepted. Two married a few months later on November 8th, 1829 and got it on. They would go and have four kids and she would be his confidant and companion for the next 44 years. He would save her. I became the husband of one of the best women that was ever created. I have long felt assured that had I waited 20 years longer. I could have not found another woman so well suited to my disposition and so valuable as a wife, a mother and a friend. Yet I do not approve nor recommend two early marriages. More sound advice here. Let's do it. Whether or not he was an exploited piece of shit, he definitely knew how to dish out good advice. Oh yeah, getting married at the age of 19 worked out for him. Once he'd seen a lot more of the world lived a lot longer, he knew that getting married so young in general, not a good idea. Again, I agree. Odds are,

if you're exploring any of the world at all and or really explore yourself, you're gonna change a lot in your late teens, right? You're early in mid-20s. Most of us don't really seem to settle into who we're gonna be for the most part of the rest of our lives until we're in our 30s. Still change, but the core values you possess seem, you know, a lot more fixed at say 30 than they are at 19. At least that's what I think.

This point, Barnum had several businesses, a general store, a book auction, some real-estate speculation, statewide lottery network. Rather than rest on his success, he kept expanding. And the winner of 1829, 1830 Barnum opened a lottery office in the village of Danbury, as well as offices in Norwick, Stanford, Middleton, few other places. 1830, Cherry gave birth to the couple's first child, a daughter. They named her Caroline Cornelia Barnum. All right, it's the selenade. June of 1830, Barnum bought three acres of land and Bethel from his grandpa for his new family, not shittiel swamp island land.

There he had a two and a half story house built for himself and his wife. Around this time, he started thinking less of auctions. It was starting to become a headache, a couple of students, some other little hustler stole from him, began looking for a way out of that business. In the spring of 1831, bottom started a business with his uncle that sold an assortment of dry goods, groceries, hardware, October 17th, 1831, PT bought his uncle's share of that store and then advertised that they'd gone their separate ways and that he was running the store exclusively.

Now, why would he advertise this? He wanted to make it known that he was a proprietor. He was a big man. He wanted to build public confidence in him because he now wanted to enter the world of politics. He wanted to run against some Calvinists that were trying to pass some laws he didn't like. He was a staunch advocate against blue laws proposed by Calvinists, so-called blue laws, that sought to restrict gambling, travel, and more fucking fun killers. Those Calvinist joy haters wanted to make it illegal to do just about anything on Sunday other than go to church, not kidding.

They wanted to get rid of gambling, working, drinking, traveling on Sunday. Can't even take a vacation on Lord's Day. That sounds reasonable to you. Well, we can't really be friends. Barnum would write several letters to the Danbury Weekly paper, expounding on what he saw to be the dangers

of a sectarian interference, which was then apparent in political affairs. He wanted a free market, but the newspaper ran by some Calvinists they didn't agree, and they refused to print his letters. So Barnum went out and purchased his own printing press. Love it. On October 19th, 1831, Barnum started a weekly paper he called the Harold of Freedom in Danbury, Connecticut, and it did well.

It circulated eventually grew to nearly every state that existed at the time. Guy had a will of steel. He didn't fuck around when he came to goal accomplishment. I bet a part of him loved obstacles, fun puzzles to solve, fun challenges to conquer. Barnum went hard in the paint with his new paper, maybe a little too hard, got a little reckless with the law. His editorials against church elders, he accused one of being a spy and a democratic caucus, he accused others of many other things, led to some libel suits, and he would actually end up in jail for time over all this. Here's how he

would explain it. A criminal prosecution was brought against me for stating in my paper that a man in battle, prominent in the church, had been guilty of taking usury of an orphan boy, and for severely commenting on the fact in my editorial columns. When the case came to trial, the truth of my statement was substantially proved by several witnesses and even by the prosecuting party. But the greater truth, the greater the libel, and I had used the term userry instead of extortion, or note-shaving, or some other expression which might have softened the verdict. The result was that I was sentenced to pay a fine of $100 and be imprisoned in the common jail for 60 days. The most comfortable provision was made for me in Danbury jail.

My room was papered and carpeted. I lived well. I was overwhelmed with the constant visits to my friends. I edited my paper as usual and received large assessions to my subscription list. And at the end of my 60 days term, the event was celebrated by a large concourse of people from the surrounding country. What a jail stint. Grown as business from behind bars like he was Pablo Escobar or maybe I'll chop it.

When he got out, he was immediately heralded as a defender of the free press. Three years later, in 1834, Connecticut bans Lotteries. This is still Barnum's main income at this time, and this uh, this stinks fucking Calvinists. What was Barnum to do now? Give up, sit in the tavern, bitch about how Uncle Sam Roan's life. Wasn't anything he could do about it? No. He goes back to New York City. Find a new way to make a fortune. It moves to a house on Hudson Street.

Unfortunately, this time, after several years away from the city, he didn't have many connections left there. The few connections he did have allowed him to make a small living, but his provisions were running out and his little family was in ill health. Finally, after over six months in New York, on May 1st, after making several hundred dollars, selling property in Bethel, he's able to open a small private boarding house at 52 Frankfurt

Street. He also went in a grocery store at 156 South Street with John Moody. These businesses allowed him to pay the bills, but he wanted more. He still wanted to find the next big thing, and it would become the summer that he would take his first step that summer, that he would take his first step towards becoming the greatest showman on two continents. In July of 1835, Barnum got word from a connection, Koli Bartram, about an interesting person, Joyce Heth, we met her earlier.

If you'll recall, she claimed to be very, very old, 161, and to be the nursemaid of General George Washington, her dear little George. Dazzling visitors, she often said, in fact, I raised him. And God, I hope she came up with that on her own for various reasons. I don't wanna believe she was ruthlessly exploited, although, you know, she quite possibly was. Also, I'm just entertained by people who tell tall tales.

I hope these were her tales. Reminds me of a cook I once worked with. Woman named Season. Who knows? That's what she went by. Who knows where her name was? It was Pathological Lyre. I worked at the back in 1999, 2000,

during my brief stint and the residential treatment game. And she was the cook at a group home. I worked at the cater to trouble teens and non-trouble teens run in away from trouble situations. And she never claimed to be George Washington's nurse made, but she did claim to have done about 160 years worth of different jobs. We joked about it all the time when she wasn't around.

She was a long haul trucker, she was a school teacher, she worked in IT for a while. She was a computer programmer, she owned numerous businesses. And she didn't just do this was a long haul trucker. She was a schoolteacher. She worked in IT for a while. She was a computer programmer. She owned numerous businesses. And she didn't just do this like a day here and a day there. She'd say like, you know, she had trucker for 10 years. She was a schoolteacher for 12 years. She ran a restaurant for seven years. She lived in San Francisco running a restaurant for 15 years. I lived overseas for 10 years, lived in Denver for 10 years. On and on and on. And she was around 45 years old. We used to joke that she would have had to have been some kind of immortal highlander to

have pulled off everything she claimed she did. Back to Heth historians do not agree on her actual birth date, although most believes she was born in 1756, which would have made her around 80 years old the time for death in 1836 in New York City, not quite 161. Little has known about Heth before Barum purchased her in 1835, although one 19th century magazine article claimed Joyce Hath was born on the island of Madagascar on the southeastern coast of Africa. But scholars have not, you know, confirmed Hath's place of birth. A promoter named R.W. Lindsey was exhibiting her in Philadelphia when Barnum

heard about her. Lindsey Hath purchased Hath earlier that year from John S. Bowling, her previous owner, who first marketed her as an elderly woman with a purported connection to George Washington. But he was not much of a showman. On August 10th, 1835 at Nibbler's Garden in New York City, Barnum started a seven-month traveling exhibit of Joyce Hearth.

In the exhibit, she told stories about little George and saying a hammer to. Claim that Hearth earned Barnum $1,500 a week. Big amount of money at that time. How much that did you get to keep? Wish I could find that info. So many details regarding hats that we don't know are so important when it comes to the quality of Barnum's character, like the core of his morality.

Did she want to do this? Did it make her happy? Most importantly, perhaps did Barnum make her life better than it was before? Did he give her something to be proud of? Did he see her as a business partner, an equal, or is this property? Would he have wanted someone to treat his own grandmother as he treated her?

Whatever their relationship was, what is not disputed is that she launched Barnum's career as a showman. Has some associated physical appearance help make Barnum's deceptions about her extreme old age seem plausible to audiences? Barnum's publicity described her as weighing 46 pounds and noted that she was also blind and had no teeth.

Really hoping there was some exaggeration going on here that is so cringey. The broadside promoting his 1835 show with his new attraction stated, unquestionably the most astonishing and interesting curiosity in the world and the first person who put class on the unconscious infant who is destined to lead a heroic father's onto glory,

to victory, to freedom. Barnum apparently delivered as promised, one observer wrote that, Heath has a mere skeleton covered with skin and her whole appearance very much resembles a mummy of the days of the Pharaohs. Taken in tire from the catacombs of Egypt. Holy shit, none of this sounds too good.

I hope Barnum treated her well behind the scenes, made her last days as comfortable as possible. Also, even if you did though, hard to spin this into anything other than at least being pretty shitty. Barneum sought to persuade audiences of Hats connection as George Washington's nurse and her age by citing some false evidence provided to him by her former owner .RW Lindsey. Lindsey showed Barneum a contract indicating that Augustine Washington, George Washington's father, owned a 54-year-old enslaved woman named Joyce Hathenade in 1727. George Washington was born five years later. According to Barnum's promotional literature, she is, we should judge from her looks certainly far over 100. The press had a field day with all this, and they wrote about Hath's fake stories. People also flocked to papers to publish editorials

about how her age must be faked. So Barnum then announced that upon her death, she would be publicly autopsy. Super cringey. During his time with Anne Joyce, as he called her, Barnum worked with the media as best he could. He flooded the city with posters and pamphlets.

They toured New England as news spread. She was mobbed from city to city. When her fame started to fade, a curious communication appeared in newspapers that claimed she wasn't even a real person. She was an automon or a automaton made of will bone, rubber, mechanical parts. These editorials claimed that Barna was of intro-liquists

and that all conversations with his automaton, I think is hyper-known. I was confident that word until I read it out loud. We're completely imaginary. Of course, these were written by Barnum himself. Take its sales went through the roof. Everyone wanted to see the robot lady. As he traveled, Barnum was also scouting theater performances,

looking for new acts. At one event, he saw actors perform feats of balancing, plate spinning, and still walking. He loved it. He especially loved one performer, a man named Signor Antonio. Signor Antonio rested guns with bayonets on his nose, blowing Barnum's mind. Barnum discovered signal in Tonyo's salary was, or, yeah, I think that's how he says

first name was $12 a week plus travel expenses. He offered him a better deal and the two headed back to New York. A day after the death and then public autopsy of Joyce Hearth on February 25th, 1836. People are in that she was probably not 160 probably around 80 or 161 the autopsy been attended by around 1500 people all of whom paid 50 cents each to watch now this there is no way to spend is not being super fucked up my god man. He didn't let arrest in her final days of life at least let you know let arrest in peace after death when dr. David L. Rogers declared she could not at the utmost have exceeded the age of 80 Barnum then claimed that the body heat examined was a fake and that the real joys'

heth was still traveling around the country. This claim would bring one of Barnum's first critics out of the woodwork. Richard Adams' lock, yes, Dick Locke wrote an editorial called, The Section of Joyce Heth, Precious Humbug Exposed. People questioned Barnum, but he said simply he took the claims and documents on good faith. He insisted that she actually was as old as her papers claimed and left it at that. Barham stuck to his lies, moved on to the next business venture. Interesting the uproar revolving around Barham, tricking people about his age. That's where it lay, and not around the fact that he was exploiting this poor woman's death in the

last months of her life for a financial game. Barton finds his next business venture at Aaron Turner's Traveling Circus Company, a big left turn here. Eventually, he's into performing, not just promoting, hired on as Humbug the Trixie Clown. Hey everybody, would you like to hear a song? Here we go! Don't trust anyone, not even your your family the lonely lie to you no one gets an island for free don't trust a clown like me I'll take your last scent salad candy I think if I can make some currency I'll even sell tickets to your nannies on top see when it comes

to making a buck humbuk the clown he don't give a fuck and that's not true and that's a fucking hard melody to sing to. I was just me obviously singing to the city song, that collided with track, not an easy tune to make a melody to go along to. The circus was an immensely popular form of entertainment in the 19th century, traveling circuses, visiting communities large and small across the eastern United States to see him, or I'm sorry, they would visit, yeah, communities large and small across the eastern United States where people would see him. Or I'm sorry, they would visit, yeah, communities large across, large and small across the Eastern United States where people would see him. Barnum was hired as a ticket

seller, secretary, treasure at $30 a month, and he got one fifth of the circuses profits. The circuses owner, Aaron Turner, was a self-made circus man by the age of 30 back in 1820. He was already part owner of a troop that sprung up from one of the circus families that lived nearby New York State. His seven-year-old son son Napoleon, already a trick writer in the New York City circus. And he believed that any man with health and common sense could become rich if he only resolved to be so. And he was very proud of the fact. He began the world with no advantages, no education, no money.

He was a good match for Barnum. Turner also a practical joker. For one performance, Barnum bought himself a nice black suit to wear to the show and Turner decided to have some fun with him And someone asked who Barnum was Turner said don't you know that's the Reverend EK Avery the murderer of Miss Cornell Reverend EK Avery was one of the first clergymen tried for murder in the US He was acquitted but the public still believed he killed a 30-year-old woman named Sarah Cornell And a lot of people hated him

But a few knew what he looked like. And Turner made these people think he looked like Barnum. Fun. The crowd of a dozen quickly turned into a round a hundred and they mob Barnum chased him. They were going to lynch him. They were a tar and feather him. Dude literally had to run for his life from an angry mob.

Turner finally admitted that he was joking when the mob got a hold of Barnum and some lynching ropes were thrown over some tree branches. And this guy loved a good practical joke this as much as Barnum's grandpa. Same last name too. The turners gotta stay away from the turners. Haha, so funny Aaron. Haha, so funny how that angry mob almost literally hanged me. Haha, you really got me. I seriously thought I was dead.

You could probably tell based on how hard I was crying. But how loud I was begging for my life. Too funny, man. Too funny. Ha ha ha. I'm bugging the clown almost ended up dead. Chase through town, but I crying as he fled. Ha ha ha.

I don't know what's happening anymore. On October 7, 1837, PD's prankster, Grandpa, dies at the age of 77. Barnum is a static. He pays to have him buried on that bullshit swamp island. Jokes on you, Grandpa. Now you get this bullshit island. I win, I win.

No, he didn't do that. He was set. And his grandpa was buried in the Congressional Church Cemetery in Bethel. June 4th, 1838, Barnum and his troop disband. Barnum heads back to New York, started to his own entertainment venture. Maybe he'd had enough of Turner's super funny jokes.

And the spring of 1839, Barnum meets a young man named John Diamond, who was a genius dancer and he signs a contract with him. He was back in showbiz. And next, he opens up a nightclub. And the spring of 1840, Barnum rents out a saloon in Fox Hall Garden in New York, or he puts on a variety of shows that included singing, dancing, storytelling, and more. But the space didn't work out how you wanted to. And you lost money.

By January 2nd, 1841, Barnum had a mere 100 bucks left to his name. So he hit the road again. He toured with John Diamond, made up to 500 bucks a night, went very well. Things were going real well until March 30th. When Barnum and his troop arrived in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, there, Barnum learns that a rival showman named Jenkins, the preval see poached the performer of his Francis Lynch was now exhibiting Lynch under the name of master diamond. It was a clear reference to John diamond.

Batyne viewers into thinking they were seeing Barnum's famous dancer. Barnum fights back by going to the show undercover and then giving a given a sarcastic review to the press. It would be published next day. After that, R. W. Lindsey, the man who brought Barnum, uh, Joyce Heth, who is now working with Jenkins, sues Barnum for money. He claims Barnum owed him on previous transactions and he wins a $500 settlement. Lindsey would later apologize 12 years later for lying about this. Surrounded by strangers, Barnum has no money to post bail and gets thrown in jail on a bullshit charge. Upon his release, the next morning, Barnum then has his rival showman arrested for trespassing, a clever legal way to frame his theft of Francis Lynch for using John Diamond's name and reputation.

And now Jenkins gets thrown in jail. Both men end up losing a lot of money over all this. Next month on April 23rd, 1841, after being on the road for eight months, Barnum returns to his family in New York. He did make some money, but he also got thrown in jail. And he was certain he would never be a showman again. Too much drama, too much trouble, but he didn't keep that sentiment very long. On June 14th, 1841, a lesson two months later, after not being able to find another way to make the money, he so desperately wanted outside of showbiz, Barnum once again opens the box hall saloon. And again, it does not work out well. He would soon close it for a second time and would become in his own words as poor as I should ever like to be.

He then got a job writing advertisements and notices for the Bowery Amphitheater, where closer for a second time and would become in his own words as poor as I should ever like to be. He then got a job writing advertisements and notices for the Bowery Amphitheater where he made $4 a week. He also wrote articles for the Sunday press not because they were paying him but because he wanted to keep his writing abilities sharp for future job possibilities. At the age of 31, Barnum is again looking for a new business venture. While still working at the Amphitheater for $4 a week, Barnum finds it. He learned about a collection of curiosities that were on display at Scutters American Museum

on the corner of Broadway and Anstreet. These curiosities are for sale. The asking price just a bit out of his reach. They want a $15,000 about half a mill today. However, the museum had been losing money for years and they were anxious to sell. It's not like there was a long list of potential buyers for a curiosity museum that was losing money consistently. Barnum writes the owner of the museum a heartfelt letter to a meeting person.

The owner of Francis Olmsted agrees to purchase the collection in his own name and allow Barnum to make payments and buy it off of him. He also knocks down the price to $12,000. Barnum is stoked, but then almost overnight, Francis finds a much more appealing offer, a new buyer, and the curiosities are sold out from under Barnum for $15,000 to the directors of Peel's Museum. And this pisses Barnum off big time. And once more, he reveals the shade of your side of his character. He gets busy disparaging Peel's Museum.

He writes a bunch of lies to local newspapers, warns them against buying the museum stock, and yet it's all tutorials, he calls them all sorts of names, makes all sorts of wild, defamatory claims, their stock plummets. Barnum then renegotiates his deal, contacting Francis Olmstead, saying that if the Peel Museum folk can't pay the other $14,000 they owed in the curiosities, after their initial downpainment of his $1,000, he'll still buy them for $12,000.

By December 1st, 1841, Barnum receives a letter from the New York Museum Company on behalf of the Peel Museum Museum requesting a meeting. They want him to please stop destroying the reputation and they actually offer him a job as a manager of a collection of museums. Barnum says he'll take the job for $3,000 a year. They agree under the stipulation that he is not allowed to fuck with them in the papers anymore, and Barnum takes the job. This is so ridiculous.

If someone had been trashing me like Barnum was tring them, I would rather kill them than hire them. No way to spin this into Barnum being anything other than a piece of shit here. Poor baby didn't get the museum he wanted, the curious he wanted, so he goes full keyboard warrior troll to make up a bunch of lies to destroy his competition. Even shittier when Barnum takes the job at the Peel Museum, he is still trying to buy Scotter's American Museum, right? He's working for them while trying to take one of their properties out from underneath them. The Peel Museum doesn't know that Barnum now has a contract to buy Scutters exhibitions

for 12,000. If they don't meet their due date for their next payment, they don't make that next payment's due date and Barnum buys the museum out from underneath them. On December 27, 1841, Barnum buys Scutters Museum, renames it Barnum's American Museum. He now owns a museum on Broadway, and he bought it under the noses of one of the biggest museum conglomerates in New York City. What a weasel. I appreciate the ambition, but this guy was my business nemesis, oh man, I would wish

death upon him. Barnum transforms the Transformers the Five Story exterior into a giant, god-y advertisement for itself, painted animals, illuminated panels, banners, flags, lights it all up with limelight, a recent invention. It then supposedly, this sounds like some nonsense, but maybe it happened. He hired the worst musicians he could find to play on a balcony above the entrance, on the theory that their terrible noise would drive customers inside. And supposedly, he was right.

And if he really did that, that's genius. And he was a marketing genius. Huge piece of shit too, a lot of the time, but I have to give him credit as an innovative marketer. Barnum Open Barnum's American Museum on January 1st, 1842, his vision was to create a place where families could go for wholesome, affordable entertainment. And he would kind of fulfill that. He would say that his show, I don't know if they were really wholesome, his success drew

from the fact that he knew how to entice an audience and what enticed and what enticed an audience, excuse me, was not always wholesome. I don't know anything about that. Peanut butter, that's how they do it in Hollywood. Barnum filled, my god, learn how to speak, Dan. Barnum filled his American museum with all sorts of shit. You know what it is? I get excited about this stuff, and that's where I start messing up a lot of words.

I can nail way more words if I read it slowly and boring. Barnum filled his American museum with all sorts of shit. Scientific instruments, modern appliances, a fleecercus, a loom run by a dog, the trunk of a tree under which Jesus disciples supposedly sat. I can give the NPR treatment to it. No, thank you. Ha, he also had like a hat worn by a Lissus S. Grant's

in Oyster Bar, rifle range, wax works, glass blower's taxidermists, chronologists, pretty baby contests. Yet Ned learned seal. Ned alerted seal, mummified monkey's torso with a fish's tail that was called a mermaid. I'm an adjury of exotic animals that included blue, but whales and an aquarium. He would eventually get this.

This would take a while. He had all this giants, little people, Chang and Eng, the Simeas twins, Grizzly Adams, train bears. He would have all sorts of shows there over the years, over the, you know, coming a few decades. Whatever was popular, I wonder what he would not show if he thought it would make him money, like if gladiator matches were legal would he have happily let Dude fight to the death maybe

He figured out what the public was willing to pay for he brought it in as peak the museum was open 15 hours a day Saw as many as 15,000 customers in those 15 hours some reports say that around 38 million customers paid a quarter You know that a quarter or 25 cent admission price to attend the museum between 1841 and 1865. Put that obscene number in the proper perspective. The total population of the US in 1860 was under 32 million. It made a lot of money off that museum. The average suggesting for inflation somewhere between six and seven million dollars a year and ticket sales. And there was all the merchandise he would sell there. He'd make more off tours. He was putting on at the same time during that span. The museum was just one of his business ventures. In 1842, he would find his greatest humbug yet,

visiting his home state of Connecticut on a cold November night in 1842. The great showman tracked down an amazingly small child he'd heard about. The boy, Charles Sherwood Straton. Born on January 4th, 1838, was nearly five years old. The reasons nobody knew this unique boy had almost entirely stopped growing years earlier. He'd only grown a few inches since he was five years old. The reasons nobody knew this unique boy had almost entirely stopped growing years earlier.

He'd only grown a few inches since he was six months old. He stood only 25 inches tall and weighed just 15 pounds, so tiny. Almost old enough to start kindergarten and two, ruler six tall. Barnum, who had already employed several giants at his famed American museum, recognized the value inherent in the young boys

abnormal physical proportions. Sheldon made a deal with the boy's father, local carpenter, offering $3 a week to exhibit young Charles New York. And you heard back to New York City to begin promoting his new discovery as Tom Thumb, name of a character from an English children's book. PT Barnum was actually Charles's distant relative, a half-fifth cousin twice removed. Pretty distant. And in New York, he got busy teaching the boy how to sing, dance, mine, and impersonate

famous people like Napoleon. And clearly clearly this is also uh... you know but cringey here but again here's the thing you know this time there was no american with disabilities act that we pass nineteen ninety welfare would not be established in america until nineteen thirty five the equal employment opportunity act would not be passed in the nineteen seventy two

is it obviously it unquestionably wrong to parade around some with physical disabilities unusual physical characteristics and order for me as an audity 72. Is it obviously an unquestionably wrong to parade around some with physical disabilities, unusual physical characteristics, and or deformities as an oddity, or so-called freak, especially a child? In 2021, America, I would say, yes. Of course. In 1842, America, I'd say, no, it wasn't. Hear me out. If you were someone who came from an impoverished family, came from an impoverished family, you would say exceptionally small, like Charles Trenton, your options were extremely limited. Best case, you're a financial burden to a struggling family. Odds are you're never going to get married, never going to get a job, never going to be

more than a source of social stigma for your family. You're going to be pitted, cocked at. You're not going to be allowed to attend school. A very good chance that you're abandoned altogether, given to an alms house or an insane asylum, which became a de facto poor house, right? Orphans, the mentally ill, the criminally insane, anyone who couldn't take care of themselves due to mental or physical disability often sent there. With Barnum, you might get rich.

You might make so much money. You could afford not to just take care of yourself, but also your entire family. You might get married, have a family of your own. You might become a beloved international celebrity. That's what would happen to Charles Stratton. He would become arguably the most famous celebrity alive. Under Barnum's management, Stratton went on to become extremely wealthy. He owned a big house in New York, owned a steam yacht, owned a giant second home slash summer estate. I want to connect to symbol islands across the sound from Long Island. When Barnum later got into financial difficulty yet again, Stratton would

have enough money to bail him out. Stratton would get married without Barnum. And all likely had none of that would have happened. Sometimes he's hard to hate. He could have ruthlessly exploited Stratton, but he did not. And he also made numerous other performers, again, so-called freaks, a lot of money during an age when they would have otherwise likely died in some poor house.

In 1844, Barnum sets his sights on Europe with young Charles. He takes Tom Thumb on tour, sells out shows left and right. It's a ton of press. Tom Tham quickly becomes an international celebrity, a child star who would arguably later handle adulthood, a lot better than recent child stars like Cory Feldman. Tom would appear twice before British queen Victoria, who said she was both amused and satan by the small statured boy. He also met the three-year-old Prince of Wales later to become King Edward VII, Queen Elizabeth II's uncle. He met the Zara of Russia, Nicholas I. Tour was a huge success with crowds mobbing him wherever he went. Money rolled in both

for Barnum and Tom's family back in Connecticut. He also made Tom's family rich. Barnum rather than sit back and enjoy the money he made on this tour, he sought out new acts and attractions to work with. While in Europe he acquired dozens of other attractions for his museums, including Autonomins, Automatons, God, word, and other mechanical marvels. He even tried to buy the birthplace of William Shakespeare, almost got away with it. So weird in 1846 when it was announced that the house would be sold, Barnum convinced,

or conceived a cunning plan, he would buy it anonymously. Ship every brick in timber to the US, reconstructed as the star attraction of his museum of curiosity. And then word of his plans got out. He said, British pride was touched in several English gentlemen interfered and purchased the premises

for a Shakespeare association. The birthplace would have been a great attraction as a sensation. Barnum reflected sadly when he snapped up jumbo, the giant African elephant from London Zoo. One of the people who stopped him was none other than Charles Dickens, who threw himself into the campaign to raise funds against Barnum, organizing readings and benefit performances for Shakespeare's works. In the end, his efforts almost doubled the fundraising

and Barnum was prevented from purchasing the house. Good. They had to kept Shakespeare in England, seeing Shakespeare's house anywhere else just yeah, wouldn't feel right. Barnum had the time of his life with young Tom and Europe. Sometimes his wife joined him out on tour. They spent a lot of money on the finest food and drink, stayed in the very best hotel, stayed up late party in 1848. Barnum returns home and spends a lot of the money he'd been making. At just 38 years old, he had the first of what would end up being four mansions built in

Bridgeport, Connecticut. Most famous would be the first, a run-up stand, more of a palace than a mansion. I was so big get a housewarming party inside of it for a thousand people. On November 14th, 1848, the house cost barren and well over to $100,000, roughly over three million today, but inflation calculators don't really work for real estate. I think easily it would be worth over 20 if not over $30 million today. It sat on 17 acres. The property included magnificent gardens, a greenhouse, various animals lived on the grounds, a stage, or I'm sorry, a stable and a carriage house, a pump house to provide

water inside the home, which is a big deal back to the in a large curved driveway. Later mansions would be called Lindcroft, Waldemar and Marina. Big time flexing here. Well, they wanted to show the other Connecticut folks how much money he'd made. Aronaston was the most fanciful and opulent of all of his mansions made of sandstone designed with Turkish-style domes, spires, and lacy fretwork. It was inspired by the royal pavilion in Brighton, England. Aronaston took two years to build and contained a fresco walled library, mirror doors, greenhouses, stables, a ballroom, an abelior room. The house was equipped with a hot and cold showers, a big innovation back then. The New York Harold would write about it in 1850,

saying the proprietor, if he is at home, simply enjoys the innocent pleasure, which his establishment affords to others. And I really believe that if he were conditioned to hold it guarded with the exclusiveness, which characterizes some of the snobbish aristocracy of our land, he would soon have burned it to the ground. Kind of ironic that he would write that because it would burn down to the ground in 1857. A workman would accidentally burn it down, destroying the building that was then worth about $150,000

over five million today, but really worth so much more than that. That would not just be a loss for Barnum, but also for the city of Bridgeport. The people loved the palace there. It was used as a space for music, dance, debate, culture, tourists would visit Bridgeport every year just to see this place. Sadly there are not any pictures of this architectural wonder. Barnum kept working as hard as ever after his new palace was built while on tour in Europe,

he heard of another cash cow and exceptionally talented opera singer named Jenny Lind. Very different type of talent for Barnum to work with now. She was not an oddity in any way. Also, she was already a star, not an America, but in Europe. Barnum thought that if he could apply his marketing genius to her talent in America, they could both make a fortune, no humbuggery required. By 1849, she was in the midst of her third triumphant season in London. She pulled massive crowds, was nicknamed the Swedish nightingale,

or sweet hypnotic voice. I actually get compared to her a lot. So does Michael motherfuckin me Donald. Triple M is the yacht rock Jenny Lind, as you've probably heard. And I'm known as the podcast Jenny Lind. I'm also known as the songboard of my generation. There's a little here, I'll prove it. There's a little Lind diddy called Never Enough. Get ready for your ears to get pregnant, okay?

Yeah. You might. My throat ready. Okay, almost. Nope, not quite yet. I'll jump in. I'll just jump in here in a second. Okay. I'll just jump in here in a second. Oh, okay. I'm trying to hold my breath. Haha, fuck yeah. Let it stay this way. Can't let this moment end.

God dang. Set off a dream in me. That's tight. Get in louder now. Can you hear it? Echoing fucking sick. Take my hand, will you? You get it? You heard it.

You heard it. But I'm could have easily marketed me into the world's most famous singer. Come on. Back to Linda, I guess. I mean, it's going to be hard to tell what I just did though. Although he'd never heard Lynn sing, Barnum knew that concert hall sold out wherever she performed. Wherever I performed.

So I was trying to say, wherever she performed. October 1849, Barnum hired an Englishman, John Wilton, to locate Lynn, make her an offer. He approached her with a proposal to tour the U. US, realized that it would be, you know, it would yield a large sum for her favorite charities, excuse me. She was a big philanthropist, particularly devoted to the endowment of free schools in her native Sweden, Lindegrees. I've her checking Barnum's credit with London Bank

on January 9th, 1850, Lindt accepts Barnum's offer of $1,000 a night plus expenses for up to 150 concerts in the US. Huge gamble. You just committed to up to $150,000 in just her talent expenses. Using the online inflation calculator again, it's over $5 million. That's just for lind. There'll be more expenses.

Lind insisted on performing with Julius Benedict, German conductor, composer, penis, with whom she'd worked with in England, and an Italian baritone named Giovanni Beletti. Benedict's fee was $25,000. Beletti's was $12,500. And total bar number had to commit $187,500 plus travel expenses to bring lend and her musical troop to America. That's around six and a half million dollars in today's money. There's the concept travel, accommodations, and the big one advertising.

This tour is going to cost him the equivalent of $10 million to produce easy. And riskiest part, Lens contract stipulates that the entire sum of the talent fees, $187, $500 slash $6.5 mill had to be deposited in advance with the London bank, bearing brothers. Hey, Lens of Fina, Lens does not fuck around, money maker. Barnum had an anticipated paying them money in advance. He'd always paid performers as their performances were completed. And he suddenly, if he wants to lock this tour up, he has to raise a lot of money and fast.

So he seeks out loans from New York bankers. They refuse to make the loans though, based on a percentage of the Lynn tour. So Barnum, get this. He mortgages all of his commercial and personal properties. He bets everything on pulling this tour off. He already has a mansion, a huge museum, a family to support, and he risks all of it. I wonder how many arguments that led to it home.

Holy shit, this guy had some giant fucking balls. Still a bit short after all that, Barnum finally persuades the Philadelphia minister who sought to lend would be a good influence on American morals to lend him the last five thousand dollars now He could lose everything and go into debt by the skin of his teeth Barnum pulls off the impossible sends the 187 500 all 187 500 dollars to London now He just has to make her famous in America since few Americans had ever heard of her O'Finnius fires up the old press machine now One release he wrote says a visit from such a woman who regards

her artistic powers as a gift from heaven and who helps the afflicted and distressed will be a blessing to America. Her, you know, biographical pamphlet and photograph proclaim it is her intrinsic worth of heart and delicacy of mind that produces Jenny's vocal potency. Lint has a long record of giving benefit concerts for hospitals and orphanages and Barnum exploits this shit out of that. Before Lint had even left for England, Barnum is able to make her a household name in America. In August 1850, before Lint leaves England, Barnum makes a genius promotion move.

He arranges for her to give two farewell concerts in Liverpool, where she's already famous. Hires a critic who already loves her to cover the concert. The critic gushes about the Liverpool crowd's response and their grief at Lens imminent departure. Then he has this review circulated in British, European and American newspapers a full week before Lens derives in New York on September 1st, 1850. He did that even more money, gambles further to have reports of Lens upcoming American tours, saturate American papers. And my God does this plan work. When her ship pulls into harbor, over 40,000 people are waiting to greet her,

trying to get a glimpse of this huge international star. Initial shows, sales, and advanced sales on future shows are so good that a month after arriving on September 3rd, 1850, Barnum and Linda renegotiate their contract, giving Lynn the original $1,000 per concert they agreed to, plus the remainder of each concert profits after Barnum makes his $5,500 concert management fee. Lind will not perform the entire 150 concerts.

She'll do 93 though. In the end, everyone makes a ton of money. Lind makes over $250,000. Barnum nets over $500,000. The gamble paid off big time. Classic case, a big risk, big reward. Barnum made the equivalent of over $17 million. Lynn gave the majority of her US concert earnings to charities, including a thousand dollars to help build a church in Chicago. Barnum, he,

he, he doesn't. In early 1851, the two go on their separate ways. Lynn had become uncomfortable with Barnum's relentlessness as far as marketing. It was just so aggressive. And she invoked a contractual right to sever ties with him and they part as friends. She continues to tour for nearly a year under her own management until May of 1852. Barnum moves on to other things. He continues to search for new attractions, new spectacles that people had never seen before. Wouldn't believe, you know, people and would believe anything he said about them, excuse me, organized flower shows, beauty contest, dog shows, you know, people, and would believe anything he said about them, excuse me, organized flower shows, beauty contest, dog shows, baby contest. Contest is that sought out the fattest baby, the handsome is twins.

In 1853, he started the image field filled weekly newspaper, illustrated news. A year later, he completes and publishes his autobiography, which sells more than a million copies over numerous reprints. Mark Twain loved the book. The British newspaper, the examiner thought it was trashy and offensive and wrote that it inspired nothing but sensations of disgust. It's always been such a polarizing figure. In 1853, Barnum finds another moneymaker.

He returns to oddities and discovers a woman named Josephine Clofulia. And he would bring her to his American Museum, or she would perform. Her stage name was the bearded lady. Madame Clifullia was born Josephine, boys to Shane in Switzerland, naturally hairy. She reportedly had a two inch beard at the age eight. It's assumed she suffered from hypertricosis, condition characterized by excessive hair growth

over and above the normal for the age, sex, and race of an individual. It can develop all over the body or it can be isolated to small patches. The same condition responsible for so-called werewolf syndrome in extreme cases. Madam Clofulia began performing at the age 14 when she started touring Europe with her father to assist her family financially. Josephine later married Fortune Clofulia, a French painter and gave birth to two children,

a daughter who died in infancy, and a son Albert who Barnum would exhibit as the infant Isah, due to his own hairy appearance. Josephine gained extra fame when she fashioned her beard in the imitation of Napoleon III. He would see it in person and like it so much, he would give her a large diamond. Nice. Wish my beard were so sweet, people just gave me diamonds. All four members of her family, Josephine, her husband, son, and father moved the U.S. where they joined forces with PT Barnum. Barnum had her beard officially measured at six inches, gave Albert his new name, and

put him on display. Initially, she was not as popular as he hoped. She was too genial, proper, and ladylike. People found her boring, so Barnum fired up the presses, found a new angle. On July 1853, a man named William Char took Klofilia to court, claiming that she was actually a man and an imposter, a man named William Char took Kloffelia to court claiming that she was actually a man and an imposter, a fraud. During the case, doctors examined Kloffelia, verified that she was female.

In the case was dismissed, and many suspect Barnum arranged the whole spectacle as a publicity stunt. 1856 will be the rare bad year for Barnum. He created America's first aquarium at his New York museum that year. That was good. He also began investing to develop East Bridgeport, Connecticut. That was bad. He made substantial loans to the Jerome Clock Company to get it to move to his new industrial area, but the company went bankrupt in 1856 and took Barnum's wealth with it.

It's led to four years of litigation, public humiliation. Guide just couldn't stop taking risks. He clearly loved the risk of constantly trying to double his fortune. 1857 will be a bad year as well. His beautiful, ironic Stan palace burns to the ground that we discussed. Charles Stratton aka Tom Thumb then goes on another European tour to help bail Barnum out. By 1860 Barnum is back. Expanded his museum's collection of wax figures now, a new exhibit called the Seven Grand Salons demonstrated the ancient Seven Wonders of world. We just talked about last week.

The collections expanded to four buildings. People published a guidebook to the museum which claimed that there were over 850,000 curiosity to take in. Also in 1860, Barnum finds another hit human attraction, the Chang and Ang Bunker. What am I called? Chang and Ang Bunker, I don't know why I added the other. I don't need why I added the other. I don't need to do that.

Conjoined twins from, um, Siam, present day Thailand, who came to the US in 1829. The bunker brothers were born on May 11th, 1811 to a fisherman and his wife. They were joined at the sternum by a small piece of cartilage. In 19th century,

there wasn't enough technical medical knowledge to separate them. Sadly, modern surgical techniques would have separated them easily. In 1829, the twins were, quote, unquote, discovered by a British merchant named Robert Hunter, who promptly took him on a world tour. Upon termination of their contract with their discoverer, they successfully go into business for themselves, and they did well 10 years later, in 1839, the twins bought a 110 acre farm near Trappell, North Carolina, and became naturalized

US citizens determined to start living a normal life as possible. The brother settled on a plantation, bought slaves, not the part I was referring to when I said they did well. And they adopted the last name of bunker. And then on April 13th, 1843, they married two sisters, Chang to Adelaide Yates and Aang to Sarah and Yates at their Trappell home. They would share a bed built for four for years

and they used the shit out of it. Chang and his wife had 10 children. Crazy. Ang and his wife had 11. How crazy is that? In time, the wife squabbled to eventually two separate households were set up in the community of white planes and the twins would alternate spending three days at each home. Some of this sounds familiar.

We talked about these twins somewhat randomly in times like episode 178, Pol Pot and the Camille Rouge genocide. That was when we learned that they have over 1500 descendants now, most of whom still live in North Carolina. That is also when I speculated about their sex lives. How can you not? When one of your brothers, having sex with his wife, the other brother, right there in front of him, that's so strange, the sternum's connected them. brother, right there in front of him. Oh, that's so strange. The sternum's connected them.

They were right there next to each other. Their dicks were never more than just a few feet apart. What a super strange life. It'll always be so close to your brother's dick. So many memories you would have as time went on of hearing your brother fuck. So many members of hearing your brother take it up. I guess all that would just become your normal. You wouldn't know any different,

but your normal would be so different than anyone else's normal on earth. I can't stop thinking about the strangest thoughts about them. They're not good for my imagination. Anyway, while they're out fucking right next to each other North Carolina, Barnum's keeping an eye on him. Not through people or anything, he's just aware of them. Without their approval or even knowledge,

he displays a wax figure he had displayed a wax figure of the twins at his American museum starting back in the 1840s. He published a pamphlet about their lives in 1853. And now with large families to support, Chang and Ang returned to showbiz agreeing to a six week engagement at Barham's American Museum in 1860. After the Civil War, with portions of their property, now rendered worthless, they would again agree to public exhibitions with Barnum, going on a European tour sponsored by Barnum in 1868. Twins would die in the same day, January of 1874, the age of 62, after making a lot more money than they ever would have without the option of paid exhibitions.

Chang contracted pneumonia, died rather suddenly in his sleep, anguoke, to find his brother dead, called for his wife and children to say goodbye to him. A doctor was summoned to perform an emergency separation, but Ang refused to be separated from the brother he had always been connected to and died three hours later. Back to Barnum. Could do a whole suck on Chang and Ang. I find them fascinating. As much as Barnum's audit, he displays partially discussed 2021.

Me. I have no doubt that 1860 me would have bought tickets to most of his shows, if not all of them. The Civil War years will be very profitable no doubt that 1860 me would have bought tickets to most of his shows if not all of them The Civil War years will be very profitable for bottom 1860 another hit attraction comes about a very sad Very controversial human story at the center of it Next to Joyce Heth This is the show that would earn him the most historical disgust Maybe his cringiest of all of his tours In 1860 William Henry Johnson also known as Zipth the Pinhead,

began performing at Barham's American Museum. And if I ever laugh when I say pinhead going forward, is not because I am mocking this poor man, is because growing up, that was my dad's favorite insult for my sister and I. He loved to call his pinheads. Right, so when I hear that word, I picture me doing something as a kid, you know stupid,

like walking into a screen door, and mashing my face into it, and just hearing my dad yell something like, oh nice going, pinhead. So to get that out of my system, William Henry Johnson was born to a very poor African-American family. His parents were William and Mehalia Johnson, former slaves, as he grew, his body developed normally, but his head remained small. We now know this condition as microcephaly, microcephaly, a condition that carries with it

higher chances of intellectual disabilities, poor motor function, poor speech abnormal facial features, he ears, and dwarfism. It seems that William Henry, however, was not mentally deficient. William's tapered head and heavy jaw made him attractive to agents from them. Van Emberg's circus in Somerville, New Jersey, he was billed as YEEK, a missing link in the process of human evolution, who had reportedly been caught in Africa. He was displayed to crowds from behind the bars of a cage and was so successful that Williams agent brought him

to PT Barnum. Barnum purchased the right to display William Johnson, gave him a new and even more demeaning look, a furry suit was made to fit him and his hair was shaped to a tiny point to emphasize his sloped brow. And then he was given the name of not just zip the pinhead, but zip the pinhead. The what is it? Holy shit.

This is terrible. Zips early performances were given a backstory. The audience was told that zip had come from a whole tribe of missing links, also called wild men. And what is it? What the fuck? Zips supposedly subsided on raw meat, nuts and fruit, but was learning to eat more civilized food like bread and cake. Then Zip's cage was revealed inside Zip would rattle the bars and shriek and people loved

it. Societies understanding the physical deformities? Not quite what it is today. In 1860, Zip was visited at the museum by Albert Edward, the Prince of Wales. His photo was taken by famed civil war photographer Matthew Brady. And later years Zip's act became more civilized. He shared the stage with other prodigies, including his friends, Jim Tarver, the Texas giant,

Jack Earl, tallest man in the world, Kuku the Burr girl, many others. Later on, Zip also traveled extensively with the Ringling Brother Circus. He would die in 1926 at the age of 69, complications from bronchitis. He refused to seek medical treatment for these complications because he didn't want to miss one of his performances.

As cringy as all of this is by all accounts bill loved what he did. He made good money, was surrounded by other meat stacks with unique looks people he considered to be his family. He belonged to a tribe of fellow quote unquote oddities or freaks. Had he not had the side show, what would his life have been like? How alone would he have been? Would he have been as happy as he was performing under the demeaning name of Zip the Pinhead? Arguably no. So, you know, how much of a victim was he? Or was he a strange kind of success story or both? I find this all so morally ambiguous at times. In 1862, another new person of interest becomes one of Barnum's beloved

exhibitions. His name is George Washington Morrison Nutt, also known by his stage name of Commodore Nutt. Barnum met Nutt in 1861 when the boy went to the American Museum in New York City. As autobiography, Barnum wrote that Nutt was a most remarkable dwarf, who was a sharp intelligent little fellow, with a deal of drowlery and wit. It a splendid head, which was perfectly formed and was very attractive. And in short, for a showman was a perfect treasure. So weird to hear this description. He had a splendid head. I was looking for a performer with a splendid head. I saw his head and I was like, Eureka on December 12th, 1861,

nut signs of contract with Barnum. In the following year, he's brought to the museum at the age of 17. When you measure just three feet tall, nut would grow to be 43 inches, three feet, seven inches tall. And for his act, he would fight Tom Thumbon, bare knuckled boxing matches that would end when one of them was unconscious. I know. It's terrible today.

They would fight before Tom retired a remarkable 317 matches. Several thousand rounds. Every fight didn't end until there was somebody, you know, getting knocked out and essentially with a concussion. Tom lost over 200 times and towards the end of his career, he was so punch drunk, he actually thought he was combative or nuts. And that's what made him want to keep fighting. He wanted to destroy the fake, but actually real Mr. Nut. And that's too much that didn't happen.

They never fought. Probably only because Barnum couldn't, you know, convince him to. At first, Barnum built Nutt as the $30,000 nut claiming he'd paid nut to, you know, $30,000 to be an is exhibit. Another piece of humbuggery. Once a real contract with Nutt was signed, Barnum did start a publicity campaign to prepare the public for Nutt's debut. He let reporters think he was trying to hire Mr. Nutt, and when other showmen heard this rumor, they rushed into offer nuts. Parents huge sums of money to be the first to sign their son. And that publicity created a lot of free press, a lot of excitement.

And New York, not was accompanied by his brother, Rodney, a nut. Rodney was the coachman for his brother's trips around town, which become one of Barnum's favorite ways of advertising. Why distribute a poster when you could show New Yorkers the real thing? Now that entice them to come to the museum for the show, the carriage looked like a walnut that hinged at the top and New Yorkers were blown away and that is pretty clever to drive around town in the carriage looks like a big walnut. Salaries would start at you know $12 per week with increases every year for the brothers. The two brothers would each get 30 bucks per week and in the fifth and last year of their contract

They would also get 10% from the sales of their souvenir books and photographs with at least 240 the first year and 440 the last year at the end of the fifth year they would receive a carriage and a pair of ponies from Barnum. Not nearly Tom Thumb buying a few houses money but a really good living. Commodore Nutt would have some famous fans president Abraham Lincoln even asked Barnum a nut to come to the White House once in November of 1862. And when the two arrived, Lincoln left a cabinet meeting to go welcome them. Love it. The Civil War meeting will have to wait. I must not keep Commodore nut waiting. As Barnum and Nut were on the way out, President Lincoln shook Nut's hand. He told the Commodore

that he should wait ashore if his fleet was ever in danger. And when he said that nut allegedly looked up and down at Lincoln's long legs and said, I guess Mr. President, you could do that better than I could. But he what he do, the Commodore nut would become Tom Thumb's rival for the affections of another performer with dwarfism, Levina Warren. Tom would win out and propose to her and bar him new. He had another chance to make more money. He sent Tom Levina nut and Levina sister on a grand tour of the world as the Tom Thumb Company. The performing troop travel the world and according to published accounts, nut received the patronage of royalty in nearly every kingdom of the old world.

He also made more money. He made a lot more than 30 bucks a week doing that. The return to American 1872, nut and bar and argue about future pay, then nut quit to join Harry Deacon's Lilipution comic opera company to make more money. He would later live in Oregon, California, and New York operating saloons in each state. He'd also get married before dying at the age of 33 of inflammation of the kidneys, brights disease. In 1865, another unique person, very unique, would join Barlim's freak show, quote unquote, Isaac W. Sprig, known as the original living skeleton on stage, would begin performing at Barlim's Museum.

He would be paid $80 a week. Craig, known as the original living skeleton on stage, would begin performing at Barham's Museum. He would be paid $80 a week. Isaac Sprite was born May 21, 1841 in East Bridgewater, Massachusetts, although perfectly healthy for most of his childhood, and the age of 12, he began to lose weight. He began to lose a lot of weight. Almost all his fat, most of his muscle, modern doctor's degree, he probably suffered from progressive muscular atrophy. As his amaciation continued, Isaac's energy, of course, lessened.

Soon, the poor bastard couldn't keep working at the grocery store where he'd apprenticed. Then in 1865, during a visit to a local carnival, when he was 24, a promoter spotted Isaac and offered him a job. Although initially reluctant to exhibit himself for money, Isaac didn't know how else he'd make a living. So he joined the circus, becoming the living skeleton or the original thin man. Following year, PT Barnum hired Spray to work at the American Museum. By the age of 44, Isaac five feet, six inches tall, apparently weighed only 43 pounds.

And if you can't get your mind around that, you are not alone. I looked at a lot of pictures. He does look like he weighed 43 pounds. It's hard to accept that they're not doctored. His condition required him to constantly take in nutrients. His health was in such a poor state that he often carried milk in a flask around his neck. He would sip on it from time to time to keep from passing the fuck out. My God. Around noon on July 13th, 1865, Isaac and some other barren and performers almost died.

Barnes, beloved American museum quickly succumbed to the fierce tooth of fire, causing the great pandemonium, the greatest pandemonium that New York City had ever seen. The New York Times wrote, probably no building in New York was better known inside and out to our citizens than the ill-looking, ungainly, rambling structure on the corner of Broadway and Ann Streets, known as the American Museum. Where for more than 20 years, Mr. Barnham has furnished the public with a wonderful variety of amusements, wonderful variety of amusements.

Wonderful variety of amusements. That really speaks volumes about public sentiment in regard to the side shows and so-called, you know, freak shows back then. The time is clearly we're not put off by all that went on there. The fire spread rapidly, quickly filling the upper floors with smoke, fireman burst in from Anstreet, worked quickly to rescue patrons who collapsed or were lost in the labyrinths of bizarre objects. A fireman named William McNamara

credited with single handedly evacuating many patrons of the museum, as well as some of the performers who lived there in various apartments. A lifetime dedicated to collecting had vanished. It literally went up and smoked with this fire, not to mention, you know, just so many important historical artifacts from like the American Revolution, you know, from founding fathers, whales, kangaroos, alligators, monkeys perished, more animals perished, somehow a lot of the wax figures survived.

Thankfully, the fire was put out before anyone lost their lives. New York City would mourn the loss of the Barnum collection and their beloved American museum. Phineas Taylor Barnum supposedly mourned for the animals that died in the fire most of all. Some of the animals in Barnum's menagerie did manage to escape to the streets of New York City, but they tended to suffer a terrible fate in other places when they did. A tiger was shot in a street by a member of the NYPD. Barnum learned

the fire while he was speaking at a Connecticut legislature in Hartford against railroad schemes. He was given a note during his speech about the fire Reddit and then somehow kept his shit together and finished his speech. His collection was valued to $400,000 less than a thousand of it was saved and his insurance would only cover $40,000. He lost his ass on this one. Time to retire. He said he wanted to.

He had the money to. But he says he cared about what happened to his employees who numbered over 150 people to time. He also thought in New York needed a museum. He knew that they would let him have a second shot and let's be honest, you know, you had a huge ego. You wanted to keep beating it. And September of 1865, Barnum opens up a new theater at 539 through 541 Broadway between spring and print streets. He has new collectibles, new exhibits. And the new museum was another hit. But it would last for less than three years. Can you guess why? Another fire. March 3rd, 1868. Another

fucking fire burns a second museum to the ground. His museums were among the most popular attractions of all time, but with two fires destroying everything, you have to call it off. Fucking fires! Lawson Epic Mansion is two biggest businesses to fire, what a terrible thing. To have something you love so much is burned to the ground. He now wanted to focus on politics, and he had an idea on the back burner for something else in the circus industry between eighteen sixty six eighteen sixty nine barham serves as a member of the connect to house representatives from the fairfield district he was chairman of the committee on agriculture

uh... as important as he found politics though he he decided they were not for him the man displayed quote unquote freaks professionally found politics just tasteful in the spring of eighteen sixty seven barham was nominated for congress as a republican but he lost. The state went for a Democrat loaded ticket, who would lose again in 1869, and then of

his time in politics he would later write, the filth and scandal, the slanders and vindictiveness, the plottings and phonies, the fidelity, treachery, meanness and manliness, which by turns exhibited themselves in the exciting scenes preceding the election were novel to me. There's something really funny about a guy with the career he had saying that. Seems a bit hypocritical. Finally, in 1871, it is time for the circus. Sweet colliope! I really don't have anything to say here.

Some humbug the clown. I just heard the circus was coming back and hit the button. Surprising, right? They took him this long to really get into the circus. He didn't really get into the circus business. I mean, dabbled, but he didn't really get into it until late in his career, not until he was 61. But of course, he'd be working in the space, you know, for quite a while with his museums

and his tours. In Delaband, Wisconsin, Barnum Partners with businessmen William Cameron Coop and the two established PT Barnum's Grand Traveling Museum, Manop and the two established PT Barnums, Grand Travelling Museum, Monashary, Caravan, and Hipodrome. It was a traveling circus, Monashary and Museum of Quote and Quote Freaks. By 1872, it was built in itself as the greatest show on Earth.

It's a log line. They're a lot better than the actual name of the circus. The name would change a lot. It was called PT Barnums Traveling World's Fair, Great Roman Hipodrome and greatest show on earth. And also that's one title. PT Barnum's greatest show on earth and the great London circus, St. George Royal British

Managerie and the Grand International Allied shows United. They really went with the Moore's Better Approach to their titles, not begun word economy. What other title didn't make the cut? PT Barnum's place where you can see a lot of things. In one area, that would otherwise be hard to see. At the same time, an odds on unless you buy a ticket to the greatest show on Earth, you will likely not see a lot of these attractions ever, and thus be less entertained.

And you otherwise would be circus, and hip-a-drome, and carnival, and maybe puppet show, and or petting zoo. In 1871, Barnum begins displaying another hit attraction, a curiosity called the Cardiff Giant. Obviously it was not a real giant. It was the creation of a New York to back in it, to back, oh my god, to backenist. No one ever fucking says that word out.

An obvious lunatic named George Hull, Hull and Atheist decided to create the giant after a heated argument with the fundamentalist minister named Mr. Turk about a passage in Genesis 6.4 that claimed that giants used to roam the earth. Two weeks in a row on time, Suck, we're talking about giants. We're not of guess that. I'm pretty sure David Hatcher

children's covers the hardest giant in his upcoming A&G show, maybe it's giants. I mean, sure, people say did the card of giant is an exposed hoax, a humbug, if you will. But what if it's not? What if, you know, maybe it's giants? Riveting fake programming. The biblical passage, whole got worked up about,

goes like this. There were giants in the earth in those days, and also after that, when the sons of God came in unto the daughters of men, and they bear children to them, the same became mighty men, which were of old men of renown. Holest Flabberg Astrid,

that the minister actually believed that literal giants once roamed the earth, then later after the argument, laying in bed, later that night, he thinks, hey, wait a minute, I bet a lot of people believe that giants once roamed the earth. And I bet I could pull off

one of the greatest humbugs of all time and make a lot of money off it. I can't believe he did what I'm gonna tell you and that it actually worked. This story is so ridiculous. He hired some men to carve out a 10 foot long, four and a half inch block of gypsum in Fort Dodge, Iowa. He tells them that the stone is intended for a monument to Abraham Lincoln in New York.

He ships the block to Chicago where he hires a German stone cutter to carve it into the likeness of a man. He swears the stone cutter to secrecy. Various stains and acids are applied to the giant to make it appear old and weathered. The giant's surface is beaten with steel nitty-nittles to give it the effect of pores. Then hold transports the giant by rail to the farm of William Newell, his cousin in November of 1868. He takes, he takes a shit so far.

He buries the thing on his cousin's farm. By this point, he'd spent $2,600 on this hoax. That's over $50,000 today. Roughly a year later, dude had patience. He wanted to let the ground recover and make it not look like a whole other recently been dug. Nule hires two men, Gideon Emmons, and Henry Nichols to dig up a well.

And when the two men began digging on October 16th, 1869, they fine-quote unquote the petrified remains of a giant. One of the men reportedly exclaims, I declare some old Indian have been buried here. That's about the most 1869 shit I can take of someone yelling. Nual sets up a tent charges $25 for people to see this fame giant now, the remaining

to this fame giant. Two days later, he raises the price to $0.50 per ticket, word spreads, soon some experts come in, archeological scholars pronounce a giant fake. Some geologists even noticed that there is no good reason to ever try and dig a weld in this exact spot where the giant had been found. It was a, it was a humbuck.

Yale paleontologist, Othiniel C. Marsh, actually calls it a most decided humbuck. But then some Christian fundamentalist and preachers defend its legitimacy, cha-ching. Suddenly, everyone's talking about giants. Demand for the remains of the giant's store. A lot of people are thinking it's a real giant. Then a syndicate of businessmen offers $30,000

for a three-quarter stake, almost $600,000 in today's money and Newell sells it. Right, this doesn't count the tickets he had already sold, reported these several thousand tickets, and he still owns a 25% interest in this thing. It fucking worked, his stupid plan actually worked. The guys who bought a 75% interest now move into Syracuse, New York for next- York for next submission and then Barnum encounters it and immediately

offers them $60,000 for a three month lease to take it on a tour. But the group of owners turn him down. So Barnum hires a man to cover the model and wax. Then he creates a plaster replica and makes his own fucking fake giant. Then the king of humbuggery, he puts his giant on display in New York City claiming that this is the real giant and Then the king of humbuggery, he puts his giant on display in New York City, claiming that this is the real giant and that the card of giant is the fake. Feels a wee bit illegal, definitely a dick move. Barnum was such an asshole when he didn't get what he wanted. It would be one of the card of giant's owners, David Hannum, who would actually say, there's a sucker born every minute in reference to the spectators who would pay to see Barnum's giant.

That quote, of course, would get Mr. Tributed to PT Barnum himself. Hannah would sue Barnum, but the judge said that the card of giant would have to be proved to be real for Hannah to have any chance in court to win. On December 10th, whole, the original creator then confesses to the hoax, he'd already made his money. On February 2nd, 1872, both giants are revealed to be fakes in court. Luckily for Barnum, the judge rules that Barnum couldn't be sued for calling the cart of giant a fake since it was a fake. What a weird little loophole here.

Weird slice of reality Barnum lived in. November 19th, 1873 now. Bad news, charity hallet. Cherry hallet. Barnum's longtime wife and best friend. She dies. She was 65. He was 63.

They'd been together 44 years. They had four kids. Caroline Cornelia, Helen Maria, Francis Arena, he was 63, they'd been together 44 years, they had four kids, Caroline Cornelia, Helen Maria, Francis Arena, Pauline Taylor. And what a crazy thing to lose your partner of so many years, they've been through so much together, so many rises and falls and now it's all over. In 1874, a few months after his wife's death, Barnum marries Nancy Fish, daughter of his friend Albert Fish, Chobish. Now tell her to do it in Hollywood, A circus in the circus without some peanut butter.

I raised that back. I can't write. No, Barnum marries the daughter of his old friend, John fish. Nancy was 23 or 24, 40 years her husband's junior. Fish had accompanied Barnum during his European tours. I was in constant communication with him through writing. There was rumors that the relationships started long before his wife's death scandal. She was just slightly younger than her husband. Wow, a few months over 40 years younger, that will always seem so weird to me until I'm 60 and then naturally leave my wife Lindsey for a sexy 20 year old. Hey, well, Stefena, whoo, JK, come on. So much JK. There's no need to mess in your girlfriends. I'm guessing that Barnum may have tried to drown his sorrows in Nancy Fish's pussy here.

Guessing. Not the only one who thought that. The next year in 1875, Barnum takes a break from fucking his young wife constantly and is back in politics. He's elected mayor of Bridgeport, Connecticut, served from 1875 to 1876. Spearhead numerous city improvement initiatives, including seaside park. Still there. Oh, it looks nice.

Yeah, something good he did. 1881, bottom finds another so-called freak to promote. Her name, she blows me away. I didn't know this was possible. Myrtle Corbin, she was just 13 in 1861. She joined the sideshow circuit under the moniker, the four-legged girl from Texas. After showing her to curious neighbors for a dime each, her dad thought she had the potential to work in the big leagues, like a small time bottom.

He had promotional pamphlets made and started putting ads in the newspapers and Jesus. Her dad sounds so creepy. Charging his neighbors a dime to come gock at his to figured his, this figured daughter's legs. Just, ah, just, hey, wanna see my daughter? Wanna see my daughter's legs. Just, ah, just, hey, wanna see my daughter? Wanna see my daughter's legs? Give me a dime and I'll show you my daughter's legs.

These poor people. Ah, she really did have four legs, mind blowing to me. She was born with two normal size legs on either side of a pair of smaller yet still functional legs. Her small legs were just two week to walk on, but they did work. Her body's axis split as it developed in the womb and as a result she was born with two pelvis side by side. Also had two vaginas and even

crazier two functional uteruses. She could have theoretically gotten pregnant twice to two different dudes at the same time and two separate sexual acts. She had two independent reproductive systems. Back then doctors had no idea what the fuck was going on with her. One doctor, Brooks H. Wells, described her as female belonging to the monosephalic class of monsters by fusion. Okay? Doctors straight up said she was literally a monster. Doctor, what's going on with my daughter?

Where are I? I know what's wrong. Medically speaking, she is a monster. She was supposed to be a happy, lively girl, disposition that would help attract huge crowds to her shows, working for Martin, she'd make to be a happy, lively girl, disposition that would help attract huge crowds to her shows, working for a bar in them. She'd make 450 bucks a week, her cut, about 10 grand a week today. She made enough money to retire, young, get married, have four perfectly healthy children.

A fifth would have to be aborted to save her life in one unfortunate situation. Before she would die in 1929 at the age of 59, according to rumor, three of her kids were born from one uterus and two from the other. I know this is fucking crazy, but I have to get some other thoughts out of my head. How wild was her and her husband's sex life? I hope it was.

I hope they both really enjoyed it. I mean, it sounds like she could have had two separate orgasms at the same time, right? Like, he could be having sex with one pussy while using his magic fingers on her bonus pussy. Gosh dang, oh my heck, that is interesting. Am I flipping pervert? Gravity thoughts?

Hey, Luciferina, I love that she had kids, she was happy she got rich, you know? Good for her, good for her. She, she, she, she overcame a lot to have the life she had. I don't think I would have been able to get rich if I had two functional dicks. I, maybe through porn, I guess.

But in my teens, if I would have had two working dicks in my arsenal, I might have literally jerked myself off to death. I would have died of like, mass pretory induced dehydration or something. I would have died of a stroke and induced stroke. You get it. So tough to resist, right?

When you got one trouser gun unloaded, then the other one's throbbing and they can be fired. I literally didn't know that her physical situation was possible. In 1881, Barnum sought to join a rival instead of trying to destroy them, must have been softens later years. John A. Bailey's circus was outperforming his and Barnum sought to merge their two circus empires together. The two groups agreed to combine their shows on March 28, 1881, became Barnum and Bailey's

greatest show on Earth. Then in 1884, another rival circus came onto the scene, with Consent's Ringling Brothers. The Ringling Brothers were five siblings who transformed a small touring company, performers into one of America's largest circuses in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The Ringling Brothers circus ultimately swept across the circus scene, goblin up smaller circuses, including later on Barnum Bailey. Also in 1884 another unique person begins performing with PT Barnum. His name was Fedor Jeff Tuchu, aka Jojo the Dog Face Boy.

Born in St. Petersburg, Russia in 1868 Fedor like Madame Clophilia suffered from hypertercosis. I think I'm saying the right excess of hair growth. Fedor turned with his father Adrian who suffered from the same condition performed in French circuses when Adrian died. Fedor struck out on his own, eventually signing the contract with Barnum, who brought him to the US in 1884 when Fedor was 16. Barnum created a story that involved a hunter who tracked Fedor and his father to their cave and captured them, bringing the savages back to society.

Barnum stressed Fedor's relevance to a dog, explaining that when he was upset, Fedor would bark and growl. And in the show, Fedor demonstrated just that to audiences. Fedor was actually quite intellectually accomplished. He spoke Russian, German, and English towards Europe and the US extensively before he died in the former Ottoman Empire from pneumonia in 1904. 1885, Barnum debuted his biggest attraction ever at Barnum and Bailey's circus. Jumbo, the elephant ever at Barnum and Bailey Circus.

Jumbo the elephant, who Barnum had bought in London. People were blown away by the giant creature. In the 31 week season, the circus earned 1.75 million largely due to its star attraction. On May 17th, 1884, Jumbo was one of Barnum's 21 elephants that crossed the Brooklyn bridge to prove that it was safe after 12 people died during the Sampeed caused by a mass panic over collapse fears a year earlier. Sadly, on September 5th, 1885, Jumbo was killed by a fucking train. As the traveling circus was loading the menagerie onto trains in St. Thomas, Ontario, poor Jumbo

wandered through a portion of the fence that had been removed and was hit by an unscheduled express freight train. Jumbo was crushed for big bastard. Like so many events, Barnum would try to spin this. Barnum afterwards would tell a story that Jumbo was crushed poor big bastard. Like so many events, Barnaum would try to spin this. Barnaum afterwards would tell a story that Jumbo died saving a young circus elephant from being hit by the locomotive, but that was not true. Another humbug. Jumbo skeleton was donated to the American Museum of Natural History in New York City. The elephant's heart was sold to Cornell University in 1889. Barnaum donated a taxidermy J jumbo to Tufts University, where it was displayed until destroyed by a fire in 1975. Again with a fire.

1889 saw the debut of yet another interesting Barnum performer, Prince Randian. Also nicknamed Pilloman, the Snakeman, the human torso, and the human caterpillar. Prince Randian, whose birth name is unknown, was brought to the states by PT Barnum in 1889, quickly became incredibly famous. He had Tetra Amelia syndrome, an incredibly rare genetic disorder that means people are born without any limbs, but otherwise healthy and normal. He performed in side shows and circuses for 45 years. Prince Randy was incredibly intelligent because he can be English, German and French. Also very self-sufficient. He could shave, paint, and write his ability to roll and smoke a cigarette after alighting it with the match got him featured in the infamous 1932 film, Freaks, for his act. He wore a woolen onesie, which exaggerated his shape and made him look like a potato.

Away from the side show circuit, he lived a full life, found love with his wife, Princess Sarah. They would have four kids together. And now I'm thinking about their sex life. Of course I am. What's wrong with me? He was clearly very good with his wife, Princess Sarah, they would have four kids together. And now I'm thinking about their sex life. Of course I am. What's wrong with me? He was clearly very good with his mouth. I wonder what magic he was stowed on Princess Sarah and when she was on top, I'm not sure

if he could be on top or not, she could really pivot him around to get just the right angle since he didn't have, you know, arms and legs getting in the way of the perfect position. He was like a perfectly shaped living sex toy. I don't ask for these thoughts, by the way, they just popped in my head. He died at age 63, shortly after performance at Sam Wagner's 14th Street Museum, World's Circus Side Show in New York. Two years later, April 7th, 1891, Finneas Taylor Barnum prepares for his final moments. Kind of. Never stopped working. Never retired, never took it easy. Two years earlier, he'd moved into his fourth and final mansion, Marina. He had a stroke the year before in 1890, was confined to his new home. Just before his death, he'd moved into his fourth and final mansion, Marina. He had a stroke the year before in 1890 was confined to his new home just before his death he gave permission

to the evening sun to print his obituary so that he might read it first, working on his press till the very end. On April 7, 1891, Barnum asked about his circus box office for seats for the day, concerned about how his shows were selling right up until the end, and a few hours later, he died. He was buried in mountain grove, cemetery, Bridgeport, Connecticut, a cemetery. He had designed himself back in 1849. I didn't mention that earlier. There's so much info to fit in. Two years later, a statue in his honor was placed

in 1893 at seaside park by the water in Bridgeport. By the time he died, most critics had forgiven him and praised him for good works and as being an icon of American spirit and ingenuity. So what happened to a circus? Years later, Barnum Circus was sold to Ringling Brothers in July 8th, 1907, for $400,000 over 11 million today. The two circuses merged financially but still functioned separately until, on March 29th, 1919, Barnum and Bailey Circus and Ringling Brothers combined into one big fucking circus!

So much colliope! By that that time Charles Edward Ringling and John Nicholas Ringling were the only remaining Ringling brothers of the five who founded the circus. Decided it was too difficult to run the two circuses independently. From March 29th 1919 the combined shows debuted at Madison Square Garden in New York City where everybody got to hear sweet music like this. The circus was a success throughout the roaring 20s. Enough clippings, it's gonna give me nightmares. Fast forwarding to Close to the present now.

On January 15th, 2017, Feld Entertainment announced that it would close the Enringling Brothers in Barnum and Bailey Circus. So, you know, pretty sad. I was taken to it as a kid and I loved it. Bummer that other kids won't get to see it. They long run. Today Barnum's legacy is all over the place.

And his advertising techniques, his famous curiosities in the Barnum Museum and Bridgeport, Connecticut, that houses more than 60,000 Barnum artifacts, ones that didn't burn, including the bunch of those cool ass advertising posters and banners. I hope to go there someday. Certainly, a man who did a lot in his lifetime, never let setbacks get him down, whether you agree with his techniques or not, and with a lot of the stuff he did He certainly did a lot and he changed the world of showbiz and now let's hop on out of this long-ass time suck timeline Good job soldier you made it back

P.T. Barnum, possibly one of the most controversial meat sacks we've covered. Yeah, it's usually easier to be like, good guy, bad guy. When I first read about him, I hated him. Then I read about him again, and I thought, well, he did improve a lot of people's lives. He just had a lot of great advice. He worked really hard. He entertained a lot of people, so maybe I kind of love him. Then I went over all this the third time, and I leaned back toward Tatinim.

He really tried to ruthlessly fuck over, you know, a lot of his competitors. Then I just went over four time, I'm like, well, there's a lot to like. A lot of despise as well. All the humbugging, so much manipulation, tricking people in order to take their money, but also entertaining them.

Some people want to be tricked, probably. They definitely wanted to be entertained, and Barnum did provide them with entertainment. What about his exhibitions? You know, he made a living off of demonstrating people for their physical oddities. People like Charles Straton, Tom Thumb, you know, William Henry Johnson, aka Zip, the pinhead.

Was this dehumanizing? Putting these people on display to be gocked at? Yeah, it was. But did he provide many people with incomes? They wouldn't have been able to get otherwise. Providing them with an opportunity to feed their families travel have Self-worth as being you know international celebrities and performers. Yeah, he did Whatever he happened to think of him

Barnum was an icon of the 19th century in America and of American entrepreneurial ethic in general He was a man who started off with a dog shit piece of land in the swamp and when he learned that that wasn't a thing that would make him the richest man Alive he actually did set out to become the richest man alive. Didn't become the richest man alive but he did pretty well. He was a man who did whatever he had to do to drum up success for his ventures, relying on whatever he could write to change an audience's feelings and arouse their curiosity. Along before he was a showman he was a candy seller, a rum seller, a newspaper printer, a clerk, a lounge operator, but basically anything he could do to provide for his family and make himself wealthy. He fought for the so-called American dream

a lot harder than most. Martin was a museum proprietor, business leader, politician, urban developer, community benefactor, slave owner, emancipationist, lecturer, author, con man, and more. And it was his American museum, a museum he came to own through a careful bit of humbuggery that really set him on the path to showmanship. From 1842 to until 1865 the American museum grew into an enormous

enterprise, promoted as having 850,000 exhibits at one time. All these curiosities throughout its saloons or salons, it was a marvel of vast collection of wax figures taxidermy, an aquarium, a public theater, historical collections, living curiosities. It burned down twice. So did his favorite house, the favorite palace in the whole city of Bridgeport. In his final years, it would be Barnum Circus, later renamed Barnum and Bailey Circus, that would cement his reputation as a master showman. He traveled to US with his circus on rail lines, bringing entertainment to thousands, it's done hundreds of thousands of people.

He traveled through Europe and other places. All in all, he brought live entertainment to millions around the world and he's still entertaining this now. He left us with the crazy story of his crazy life. Time now to look back at it. Few more times with today's top five takeaways. Time, suck, top five takeaways.

Number one, from an early age, Barnum was focused on making money, avoiding hard labor and maximizing headwork on his or his intellectual projects. He would own a number of businesses over the years from grocery stores and lottery outlets, newspapers and his beloved museums, before eventually forming these circus that would carry his name for decades after his death. Number two, Barnum never rested on his success, even when he had a surefire hit on his hands in the form of a human curiosity, he kept

looking for others. Number three, Barnum didn't even start his famous circus until he was in his early 60s, one of the world's biggest retirement projects. Number four, Fire Haunted Barnum. His American Museum was one of at least three important structures that Barnum built that would be lost to fire, which also included his one-of-a-kind palis and Connecticut, Iranistan. Number five, new info.

In 2017, a musical film based on the life of PT Barnum, his American museum, and the lives of its star attractions was released, starring Hugh Jackman and as Barnum and Michelle Williams, as his wife, Charity, the greatest showman. It would gross $435 million at the box office against an $84 million budget. Very successful movie. Long after his death, dude still knows how to sell some fucking tickets. Time suck, tough, five take away.

PT Barnum has been sucked. How's the big one I know? I'm trying to make him a little smaller, actually. That was too much information to digest, I think. Just, I've said that in the past, and then it doesn't happen, but I think they might not be quite as long, going forward. But that was interesting.

A lot of interesting stuff. I hope you enjoyed as much as I did. Thank you to the Bad Magic Productions team for all the help and making time suck, Queen of Bad Magic, Lindsey Cummins, Reverend Dr. Joe Paisley, the script keeper, Zach Flannery, Sophie the Fax Sorcerer, it Evan's both working a lot on the notes. Over this episode in addition to myself,

thanks to Bitelixer for App and Web Design, Logan Art Warlock, Keith, running badmagicmerch.com, working on the socials with Liz Hernandez. Thanks to all of those in the Cult of the Curious Private Facebook group, or in one of the many subgroups, we will not let Tiago the real boy shut us down.

Thank you, Liz Hernandez, her all eyes running the cold to curious Facebook page. And thanks to beef steak and the mod squad running wild on discord. Next week on time, so we get dark, horrifying. We get, uh, we go insane, tentacle monsters with the most famous creation of a famous horror writer. We're going to be talking about Chatholu and HP Lovecraft. Howard Phillips Lovecraft, the mastermind of cosmic horror, brought madness and existential dread to new heights. Riding in the 1920s and 30s, he looked to the mundane world of

New England and figured out ways to incorporate small details about day-to-day life with the hint that there might be something out there that's more powerful than we could ever know. Something out there that our brains can't understand that we go insane at or that we go insane if we looked at. He would say about his work. I could not write about ordinary people because I am not the least interested in them. And so he wrote about the bizarre cannibalism, reanimation, self-immolation, murder, madness,

inducing meteors, human fish hybrids, aliens, even a horde of tame trained hybrid winged things that no sound eye could ever holy grasp or sound brain ever holy remember. I like it. This guy sounds like he likes what I like. He wrote about monsters. One monster in particular would leave a lasting mark Jassulu, a gigantic entity worshiped by cultists, in shape like an octopus, a dragon, and many other things in a terrified, twisted mass.

Jassulu would first appear in Lovecraft's 1928 short story, The Call of Jassulu. And it was Jassulu that really launched the genre of love crafty and horror and the expansive Chathulu mythos that incorporated monsters and creatures of all kinds, as well as mythic cities, alien wars and more. After he died, pretty much still unknown outside of horror riding circles. His close friends and fans kept incorporating new work into the Chathulu mythos, expanding it into a truly enormous fictional universe. He was a pioneer of world building and we love world building here. Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, Game of Thrones, Star Wars, so many of us love a complex mythology, a new universe to get lost in ice or do. Even though he died relatively unknown in Providence, Rhode Island, in 1937, at the age of 46,

lovecraft's impact on the world of horror, of horror fiction, hard to under under state. It was so influential. His mythology's seep into the works of really Scott, Stephen King, Guillermo del Toro, Josh Whedon, Stephen King, countless others. These influence movies and video games, countless other forms of media. And we're sucking them next week. So tune in to learn more about Jathulu Lovecraft and hopefully not go insane with all that knowledge. And now let's head on over to this week's Time Sucker Updates. So uh, last week, during the Trail of Tears Suck, despite putting in hours of phonetic spell ends into my notes and listening to easily over a hundred videos to try and get various

words I've never heard before correct. I still fucked it Heather Miranda one of undoubtedly tens of thousands of listeners with better speaking skills than I have wrote a really funny subject line that said how in the actual fuck intrigued She follows with dude. How do you say the same word eight hundred and seventy four times but only pronounced it correct four times 24 times, but only pronounced it correct four times. Aseola, say it with me. Aseola. Good God, man. Also, I'm a Florida native, and I didn't know that Ocala actually had some historical importance.

I grew up in that shit hole. So that was a pleasant shock. I thought it was just a place. Old people went to swing and drive 10 miles under the speed limit. Anyway, love the show. All of them love you guys. Wouldn't change the things three out of five stars. This isn't a long email.

So suck it. Heather Miranda. I wish I knew. Heather Miranda. What's what the actual fuck? I wish I knew. I need to donate my brain to science someday when I die. So they can figure out what parts are broken.

I did not know that O'Cala was a senior swing or town in Christine. Thanks for still enjoying the show. Despite me having to speak to make them work. One more pronunciation message from another funny sucker with another named name, excuse me, that is easy to say thank God, Ryan Black. Ryan writes, I love your goddamn show, started listening in 2017,

and I'm currently listening to the Trail of Tears suck. I swear to Christ, if you pronounce Talapusa and the Kusa, the Talapusa and kusa rivers again and proceed to mock my ancestors and homeland based on your own. When it's pr- mispronunciations, you will pay those cute little shits you call dogs will become my new male fetching slippers kidding, but in all seriousness, that's not the correct correct pronunciation, but I guess we can't expect much more from you kidding again. Thank you for the content.

I'll come to see you see your spaces are to ask next time you come to Atlanta,ding again. Thank you for the content. I'll come to see you. See your spaces or to ask next time you come to Atlanta, Ryan Black. Thank you, Ryan. I bet my dogs would actually make some comfy ass slippers. Exceriously. They're so soft. They'd be so sad to see them turned in as slippers. But if they were my slippers, my sadness would probably be somewhat balanced out by how comfy

my feet would be. You give me a lot of new things to think about. A very cool trailer tears connection message now. Coming in from longtime cool ass sucker, Errol Eden, Errol Wrights. Hello cold leader. Stay curious, I'm writing this to you after a tear field suck that hit me on a personal level.

I was aware of the subject was one of the consistent voters to get this into the suck. Man, it was worth the wait. I loved every second of your word, destroying, mush mouth fuckery when it came to every detail you in the bad magic crew put together in a way only you can. Man, it was worth the wait. I loved every second of your word destroying mush mouth fuckery when it came to every detail you in the bad magic crew put together in a way on the you can still fuck you for making me cry at work. But thank you all now the personal side heard stories growing up of who I believed was an Italian mother turns

out my entire existence was a lie. I lie they got shattered in the recent past when my last living uncle on his deathbed told the story of his grandmother my great grandmother being a hundred percent Cherokee. She was born in the 1830s, was an amazing and strong woman. She lost over 60% of her family on the walk, and was born into a sad time. Damn. Dan, I whipped out loud, I wept out loud, feeling the pain in the words of a child, told by a man the way you read it was perfect and respectful. I cannot imagine the true terror, anger, and horror they all saw on that hellish walk. Here is a story of my great-grandmother, Marta Catiai of my great-grandfather, Felipe Stumpo.

He fled from Italy, came to work on the Trans-American Railroad, fell in love with and married a Cherokee girl, Marta. For this, the Italians wanted to kill him for marrying a quote savage and Marta's tribe wanted to kill her for marrying a European man. So now they fled the US back to Italy where Marta was taught to speak Italian and given secret family recipes and most importantly a black dress, JK gosh dang. And there you have the, there you have it, the Cherokee was an instant Italian. After her transformation, they came back to the US, had 11 children. My grandfather, Gaspar was number 11. He set up a farm in New York where he built the house to completion

in 1895. This was the house where my mother, eight of nine, was born in in 1929, and where I grew up after being born in 1968. I lived there until I was 20, left for the service. So many lies around the marriage of my great grandparents because even in the 1960s, it was not politically correct to be from the bloodline of a Cherokee.

I'm enclosing a photo of my great grandparents. I'm not sure of the year. It was in the 18-somethings. Please accept my deepest love for you all. Covered in the topic, it was worth the wait. I have to update my favorite sucked to this one three and a half out of five stars. Now it's time to get on my swamp pony and get out of here with heartfelt love, not star for the longest fuck email. And there is a hot Italian home cooked meal. Wait a few next time you do a show in Charlotte, North Carolina, early. Thank you, Arrow. I love the picture you enclosed.

Yeah, your grandma does not like Italian. She looks so Cherokee and your grandpa looks so Italian like the poster child for each race. They are adorable together. Beautiful woman, handsome man. Love that they found each other and created such a massive family. I will never understand how people used to pull that shit off, right? Like the big family is just so, so many kids.

I'm glad you enjoyed the episode, challenging topics, so many different people to try and touch on in one episode. I'm glad you, you know, that we were able to find that one, especially powerful personal story to tell in that episode. Another trailer tears update from curious sucker Brian Williams. Brian shares an interesting childhood memory. He writes, I live in Northwest Oklahoma and in sixth grade, we celebrated statehood day by re-enacting the land run.

In the beginning of the day, the students would make our covered wagons out of Hula Hoops, radio flyer wagons and campus. The teachers at our school would divide up the baseball field into sections, and in the afternoon, we would take our wagons and flags and run out onto the field and stake our claim. Some students got to head in early called the students, and the rest would have to try to prove who cheated and how. It was a lot of fun at the time, but looking back at it now, kind of messed up,

to celebrate that way, especially since we had two Native American children in our class. Not sure how to wrap this up, so fuck it. Absolutely love everything, bad magic. Does, and I'm now fully caught up on all the shows, including incredible feats, your dummy sucking creeper, Brian. Holy shit, thanks for listening to everything, Brian. You're dummy sucking creeper Brian holy shit.

Thanks for listening to everything Brian. And yeah, that is kind of fucked up. I mean, what the hell? Little, little tone deaf, those teachers. Maybe don't reenact shit like that with kids. Really rubbing some salt on the wound unnecessarily there. I would come a long way. Our culture is not perfect.

It never will be, but man, you hear all these stories, you know, like a lot of the stories from today's suck. And we've come a long way as far as being being kind to a lot of different types of people. And now let's end, let's end up. Let's close out on some weirdness. Happy weirdo and fun loving sucker, Holly Irvin shares her joy writing, Hey, suck master. I'm not great at fun names, but I wanted to thank you for being a part of my engagement this past weekend. Congrats. My boyfriend Joel. Well, now fiance, and I love the podcast. He introduced me to it through the Richard Chase episode a little less than a year ago,

which I hated it first. So nasty. Yeah. But after some hesitation, dove into other episodes and now I listen almost daily while I worked, catch up as I am a taxi-dermist and I clean rental cabins. We especially love the true crime and crazy episodes. In this past Saturday, we took a trip to a special knife store in the next state over and decided to listen to the Carl Denky episode on the ride there. While we were in the parking lot of the old store, he decided to pull out a ring right after he got me a new knife

and proposed to me right then and there. We forgot to take pictures, didn't tell anyone at first and decided to spend our first engaged moments together listing to the YAHIMCROLE episode to stay on the cannibal theme. And got ice cream to celebrate. Just so you want to hear our interesting engagement day, engaged moments together listing to the YAHIM KROLE episode to stay on the cannibal theme. And God, I scream to celebrate. Just so you want to hear our interesting engagement day, wanted to thank you so much for being a part of it. I'm sorry this was so long, but Joel loves the Albert Fish episode. And we'll even mimic your voice of him in any situation, and has even done so at my church on Easter. Instead of a shoutout, if you end up reading this,

would you please say, showbiz for him? I promise I would make his day. Thanks again, we love all that you do, Holly. Well, Joel, I said it already, but again, Shobis, that's how you would Hollywood. I love this story. I love that you went from being disgusted by the Richard Chase episode to listening to YAHIM KROLE to keep your cannibalism theme going

right after getting engaged. Holy fuck, we have warped you, Holly. Congratulations. Again, on the engagement, keeping weird, keep not taking life too seriously. And I don't know, fuck each other's brains out. And that's what you're supposed to do. You're engaged. And hail, Nimrod, oh, and probably hail, Lucifina. Thanks, time suckers. I need a net. We all did. Thank you for listening to another Bad Magic Productions podcast Meet Sex.

Maybe don't ask anyone with four legs and a bonus pussy to tour the world as a human auto-tree this week, unless you want to. And then, you know, who the fuck are you to judge? And keep on sucking. And now welcome to the stage, Joey Extra Arm Guy. Wow, very real! Great program to spread it and extra armicas! Give him your dime! Give him your dime!

Hey! Hey! Hey! Show this! Extra armicas! Give him your dime! Give him your dime! Hey! Hey! Show this!