Timesuck with Dan Cummins - 398 - August Engelhardt and the Coconut Cult

Episode Date: April 22, 2024

Did you know that in 1902, August Engelhardt travelled from Germany to a small island in the South Pacific and tried to build a community based mostly in worship of the sun, being naked all the time, and literally only eating coconuts? He tried for seventeen years. Oh yeah. This is a weird one. Watch the Suck on YouTube: https://youtu.be/RKATRYFl5-YMerch and more: www.badmagicproductions.com Timesuck Discord! https://discord.gg/tqzH89vWant to join the Cult of the Curious Private Facebook Group? Go directly to Facebook and search for "Cult of the Curious" to locate whatever happens to be our most current page :)For all merch-related questions/problems: [e-mail] (copy and paste)Please rate and subscribe on Apple Podcasts and elsewhere and follow the suck on social media!! @timesuckpodcast on IG and http://www.facebook.com/timesuckpodcastWanna become a Space Lizard? Click here: https://www.patreon.com/timesuckpodcast.Sign up through Patreon, and for $5 a month, you get access to the entire Secret Suck catalog (295 episodes) PLUS the entire catalog of Timesuck, AD FREE. You'll also get 20% off of all regular Timesuck merch PLUS access to exclusive Space Lizard merch. And you get the download link for my secret standup album, Feel the Heat.

What do you know about coconuts? Other than that they are delicious. I love coconuts. They're in some of my favorite candy bars. Almond Joy, Mounds. They're in some of my favorite candies. Dark Chocolate Coconut Haystacks. Chocolate Dip Coconut Macaroons.

Love Coconut Cream Pie. Really love German Chocolate Cake. Probably my favorite cake. Raspberry Zingers are one of my old favorite gas station treats. Coconut Samoas, they're old favorite gas station treats. Coconut Samoas are my favorite Girl Scout cookies. I could keep going. You know coconut milk and a latte, coconut milk ice cream. Big fan of coconuts. Odds are

you probably at least enjoy them in some form as well. If you've been on a tropical vacation recently you might have had one cleaved in half with the machete to access that cool milk inside or maybe had a tropical cocktail nestled in nature's cup. I love myself a pina colada on vacation or maybe enjoy them from afar. You might think of coconut bras, hey, Lucifina, or of coconut oil, the latter being very popular these days for everything from cooking to skincare. Or you might think of Gilligan's Island type gags in which coconuts fall on people's heads. And in that vein, you might think of deserted islands, of stories of shipwrecks and mutiny, of men

who would face their certain doom if it weren't for the coconut that sustains them long enough to get off the island. And in that respect you would be close to the narrative of today's story. Except it didn't play out exactly like that. Much weirder. When August Engelhardt was born in Germany in 1877, probably nobody expected that the man born and raised so far from any tropical island would live a large portion of his life in German New Guinea, one of Germany's colonial possessions in the Pacific. And if they did, they probably would have thought that he would have gone there to be a merchant or a tradesman, some

government official, one of the valiant few who sailed the southern seas to enrich Germany's colonial empire, an empire that had started comparatively late to other European empires and was trying to catch up as the 20th century dawned. But August Engelhardt would not go to the Pacific as a tradesman, as a diplomat, or even as a government official or Christian missionary. He went as a coconut fanatic, a true a coconut. As a young man, Engelhardt had been studying chemistry in order to become a pharmacist when he came upon the concept of cocovorism, eating only coconuts like forever. You heard me right. He

thought it would actually be a good idea to eat nothing but coconuts for the rest of his life. He thought doing that would greatly extend his life and improve its quality. Involved in the Lebensform movement, German for life reform, a series of groups that advocated for better living through exercise, natural therapies, and spending time in nature, he quickly became interested in how diet could change your life dramatically. And he felt that miraculous health benefits were possible through the mysterious and godly tropical fruit. Truly miraculous.

He believed that perhaps not only was the coconut good for your diet, but it was good for your soul as well. It was ordained by God to be so. Because if you looked at it one way, didn't the coconut, the meat, the milk, the shell, kind of sort of resemble the Holy Trinity of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit? If heaven was above us, didn't that mean that the coconut, pretty tall tree, seemingly reaching up to the heavens, was closest to God's kingdom? Engelhard thought so.

He thought a lot of things. And he would quickly take his obsession all the way to German New Guinea to the remote outpost of Herbito, where he bought a coconut plantation and planned for his followers, whom he hoped to attract with his writings to come join him in this coconut paradise. He called his group the Son of Norden, which translates to Brotherhood of the Sun or Order of the Sun. While he felt the coconuts were the food of the gods, he felt that the sun gave us power from God. Coconuts nourished the body in the most godly way, and the sun nourished the mind in the most godly way. Today's episode is so delightfully coconuts. Reminiscent of an extended version of our old Whackadoodle of the Week secret suck segment for

any space lizards listening, it's a doozy. Get ready to go on a journey from the German Empire to the popular and very odd sanatoriums of the late 19th and early 20th centuries with their ridiculous miracle cures that ran the gamut from idiotic to downright terrifying all the way to Herberto and the small plantation island of Capocon where August Engelhardt would live out his strange, strange days. Engelhardt, true coconuts and the strange commune he founded in Papua New Guinea that many have called a cult. His Brotherhood of the Sun, his Son of Norton, right now on a very strange and delicious edition of Time Suck. This is Michael McDonald and you're listening to Time Suck.

Happy Monday and welcome to the cold to the curious. I'm Dan Cummins the suck master, true crime prankster Jim Baker, Watchdog. Don't buy anything that that grifter is selling. And you are definitely listening to Time Suck. Hail Nimrod, Hail Lucifina, Praise B, Good Boy Bojangles, and Glory B to Triple M. For anyone curious, Lindsay and I did watch that 2021 film, The Eyes of Tammy Faye, after last week's recording, like I mentioned, as good as advertised. My god, Jessica Chastain is a brilliant actress.

She became Tammy Faye for that film. And right or wrong, I ended up liking Tammy Faye even more. It was just a, you know, dramatic, dramatized movie, I know, but I'm gonna hold onto the belief that she was the sweetest of souls who just wanted everyone to feel loved and taken care of. And her picker was off, and she ended up with a con artist of Jim Baker.

He's a phony scumbag. One quick and kind announcement and then boy oh boy do I have an odd tale for you. Love a weird tale. This month the day after this episode drops on April 23rd we celebrate World Book Day as a lover of knowledge and also escapism. And in honor of World Book Day this month's Patreon donation will be going to First Book, a nonprofit working to inspire young minds through books. Thank you, Space Lizards. They believe that books are a critical resource for kids, but they can be scarce for those

who are disadvantaged. In fact, First Book has discovered book deserts in certain low-income communities, places where there might be just one book, shared amongst up to 830 kids, for example. If books have helped you escape hard times, provided you with entertainment, education, or enlightenment, then you know just how important books are. And we donated $12,950 to First Book. If you want to learn more about this wonderful organization, you can visit firstbook.org. And now let's head to a story that is so just deliciously weird. Hail Nimrod, you know I love weird.

Today's topic is so weird, so esoteric and little known. There's only been a handful of books and articles that have ever been written about it. At least that you can easily access here in the States. There's a very practical reason for that. Most of the documents about August Engelhardt's life are either in New Guinea or nearby New Zealand or Australia, which is relatively hard to access for most of the world, or because they're not online, they haven't been digitized, and those documents, many of them, were destroyed when Germany was beaten in two world wars. Also, there has not been as much interest in this story

as there have been in many traditional cults due to the fact that Son of Norton wasn't actually a cult. I think it was trying to be a cult. The gestation period never led to the full cult. I think August Engelhardt would have been a cult leader. He definitely attracted followers, convinced them to move halfway across the world, live a radically different life, but he was never a true cult leader. Never like, you know, pressured people outside of his emotional pressure like not any cult leader type way to stay. Definitely a wackadoodle. August Engelhardt certainly fashioned himself as a visionary, a prophet, prophet of coconuts,

that's what crazy as that sounds, leader of the new millennium, a health guru and a spiritual one to boot, but he wasn't a Jim Jones style Charles Manson as cult leader. You know, people were free to come and go from Capocon, his island, as they pleased. And they would leave. Almost all of them. Usually pretty quickly. There are no recorded instances of Engelhardt ever using violence or coercion. Although at least one guy maybe got murdered. But we don't know. Engelhardt seemed mostly dangerous to himself. His diet of coconuts didn't work out well for his health. Made his body weaker and weaker and more riddled with sores as the years went on.

Crazy, he did not die long before he did of malnutrition. Like a true cult leader, he didn't make money from people. At one point, he did ask for a deposit of a thousand German marks for you know new People knew you know coming to his his little island refuge, but it was only if you could afford it He still even towards the end said the poor didn't have to pay for anything to join He was actually seems like a nice guy Completely out of his fucking mind in many ways and a man who if you did follow him he could easily ruin your life You could you could die following his advice and some did, but not an asshole. He didn't seem to ever have been fucking anyone under shady pretenses that we know of.

I'm not sure he was fucking anyone period. I'm not sure for the majority of his life. He had the energy or strength to fuck anybody. Turns out only eating coconuts for years is a good way to get real weak and have almost no energy. The sauna Norden he created was a lot more like a weird lifestyle commune or group than it was a cult. Like if Gwyneth Paltrow moved to a random island with a bunch of her fans and they spent their days shoving pumice stones into their vaginas and having sound baths and you know fucking doing energy healing which somehow doesn't feel that far away. If she or Jared Leto or both of them don't fire up a true cult soon I'm gonna be pretty disappointed. That'll be a great episode. Despite the lack of violence and fucking and mind

control the Sana Norden has still been fascinating to examine for multiple reasons. For one, it's an interesting look into the history of Germany at a time when it seemed like Germany may have been positioned to become the next major empire in the world, competing with the world's most powerful nations like Britain and France. Germany's imperial aspirations were partially a reflection of a culture that had become largely very monolithic, in that people were expected to fully embody being a German citizen and a citizen of the Empire at all times. Participating in a lifestyle that was cosmopolitan, busy, focused on attaining wealth, a lot of work, very worldly. But

August Engelhardt was part of a small minority that rejected all of that, a little counterculture movement. One that saw the rise of industrialism and urban culture and hated it. One that argued that people should go back to the way things were before, like a long time before, when people could take care of their bodies, you know, nature, eat fresh food, bathe in the sun, be naked all the time, experience holistic healing. Does that sound kind of familiar? I feel like we're experiencing something similar in our culture today. A call to grind less. Lay around in the sun, you know, more. Maybe not eat coconuts, but just relax more.

Because August Engelhardt's story is so directly a part of the story of the rise of things like yoga, holistic healing, spas and saunas, and so many other things today wrapped up in the category of wellness, it actually has former relevance to our time than you might think at quick glance. In many ways, Engelhardt is a bit like Amy Carlson. Potential future suck subject, former leader of the love has one cult. Before she died, Carlson and her followers believed that she was mother God. A 19 billion year old being, I love that number very specific, not 20, not 20, but not 19. And a reincarnation of Jesus Christ, of course, and that she could heal people of cancer, who had cancer, with the power of love.

She was so convinced of her healing power and so convincing to others that when she came down with a mysterious illness, she stated it was cancer, but it was probably poisoning, due to the large amounts of colloidal silver she was consuming recklessly. Her followers would not take her to the hospital not even when she became paralyzed from the waist down. A miracle was coming. Well, it didn't. Carlson died at Callahan's Mountain Lodge in Ashton, Oregon sometime in early April 2021 but her death would not be reported to the police until April 28th at which point her body was partially mummified. An autopsy report in December of 2021 stated that Carlson had died from alcohol abuse,

anorexia, and chronic colloidal silver ingestion. Autopsy found no evidence that Carlson had cancer. Maybe she did cure herself of cancer, but then killed herself through a type of needless malnutrition from not taking care of her body. The same exact thing would not happen to August Engelhardt, but there are some interesting parallels. People living by their ideals dangerously, people getting very, very sick through circumstances they created that they could easily avoid in order to live by those ideals. Before we get into all that, let's take a quick moment to look at

the culture that would produce August Engelhardt, the German Empire, a little history before we get into all the silly wackadoodleness, and how the German Empire would lead this strange man all the way to New Guinea. When we think of countries that colonized many parts of the world in the 19th century, we often don't think of Germany, do we? I don't. Great Britain probably comes to mind first, and with good reason. Beginning in the 16th century, Britain began to really build its empire, and over the next centuries, the comparatively tiny Kansas-sized country would come to rule large areas of North America, Australia, New Zealand, Asia, and Africa, as well as small parts of Central and South America as well.

The size of the British Empire, the amount of land and number of people under British rule changed in size substantially over the years. At its height in 1922, it was the largest empire the world had ever seen, covering around a quarter of the Earth's land surface and ruling over an estimated 458 million people. That's a roughly a shit ton of people. And a quarter of the entire world's estimated population at that time, which was somewhere between 1.86 and 2 billion people. France is up second, with 90 colonies at its peak, then Portugal with 52, and then, any

guesses? I would not have gotten this. The Netherlands, with 29. I always forget about the Netherlands when it comes to colonial powers. Germany comes in fifth with a measly 20 colonies, which is actually a lot. Just not compared to the top three. And there's good reason for that. When the British Empire was kicking off in the 16th century, Germany as we know it today literally did not exist. It wasn't a true country, let alone an empire. It was more of a loose collection of princedoms and kingdoms

ruled by a number of notable families who were always in competition with each other. During the Franco-Prussian War, this would change when most of the leaders of the German speaking nations of Europe voluntarily chose to unite with Prussia to form a single unified German state. Germany didn't formally incorporate until 1871. unite with Prussia to form a single unified German state. Germany didn't formally incorporate until 1871.

By that time, the German Reich was not taken seriously by much of Europe when it came to competition for the acquisition of overseas colonial territories. But though they were late to the party, the Germans quickly tried to make up for it. You might remember from numerous previous episodes the Berlin Conference in 1884, which carved up Africa. We dedicated episode 74 entirely to that. Powerful pressure from various internal factions, as well as some reckless colonial pioneers in Africa, forced German Chancellor Otto von Bismarck, to some extent against his will, into government support for the occupation of the first colonial territories in 1884.

This marked the climax of the European competition for territory in Africa, a process commonly known as the Scramble for Africa, and Germany would play a big role in that, competing against Britain, France, and Belgium for influence and economic opportunities. And still today, much Africa suffers thanks directly to the reverberations of those actions. In this meeting, the countries would parcel up territories, access to rivers and ports, and pave the way for future trade, all without asking any of the continent's actual inhabitants, of

course. In 1884 and 1885, Germany acquired large territories in Africa, in today's Togo, Cameroon, Namibia, and Tanzania. And in the late 1890s, smaller possessions in East Asia, Shandong, the Shandong province in China, and in the Pacific, Samoa, New Guinea, and a number of Pacific islands were added. And those are where we'll be talking about today, the German Pacific colonies. Germans first became active as traders in the Pacific in the mid-19th century. The Hamburg firm of J.C. Godefroy and Sohn established a trading base in Samoa in 1857 and ten years later laid out his first copra plantation.

Copra or copra is the dried white flesh of the coconut from which coconut oil is extracted. Traditionally the coconuts are sun-dried especially for export before the oil also known as copra oil is pressed out. The oil extracted from copra is rich in lauric acid making it an important commodity in the preparation of laural alcohol, soaps, fatty acids, cosmetics, etc. and thus a lucrative product for many coconut producing countries or for their colonial overlords. By 1879, German cotton and copper plantation covered an area of 4,337 acres and employed 1210 laborers. In the 1870s, Edward and Franz Hörnchim established trading bases in the Bismarck Archipelago and the Marshall and Gilbert Islands.

Godfroy went bankrupt in 1879, but its interests survived in the organization DHPG, which stands for some very fucking tough to pronounce German words. And that organization pressed for German annexation of Samoa in the hope of acquiring forced labor for its plantations. Intent on protecting German trading interests and taking advantage of British diplomatic weaknesses, annexation of Samoa in the hope of acquiring forced labor for its plantations. Intent on protecting German trading interests and taking advantage of British diplomatic weaknesses, the German government now annexed Kaiser Wilhelms Land, northeastern New Guinea, and the Bismarck archipelago, New Britain and New Ireland, those two islands, in 1884. The western half of the island of New Guinea had been claimed since 1828 by the Netherlands. In 1883, the British colony of Queensland and Australia annexed southeastern

New Guinea and the year after it became part of the British Empire. For many years, New Guinea would be carved up amongst three colonial powers. The western half controlled by the Netherlands, the southeastern quarter of the island controlled by the British, and the northeastern quarter of the island where most of our story takes place today controlled by the Germans. Meanwhile, hundreds and hundreds of tribes are living on this island and most of them in the dense jungles of the interior will not even realize what's going on. None of this will affect them for quite some time because for the most part the colonial powers stay near the coast. Because for the most part the colonial powers stay near the coast. Still today in Papua New Guinea, just the eastern half of the island, there are 839 different indigenous languages still spoken.

It's the most linguistically diverse place on earth. The western half of the island, home to hundreds of more languages and peoples, belongs to Indonesia and the island as a whole, home to somewhere around 900 tribes, some still living as they have for thousands of years. It's a fascinating place. From 1885 to 1899, German New Guinea was a protectorate ruled by the German New Guinea Company.

Then the German government agreed to take over administration of New Guinea, and a governor was appointed based at Herberto, now Cocoa Pole in New Britain, where a substantial part of our story will take place today. Confusing, I now have an island called New Britain in the German controlled part of New Guinea. Same for the island of New Ireland, also part of the German New Guinea at this time. Those two islands are the biggest islands of New Guinea after the island of New Guinea itself.

This new German empire in the Pacific came to a sudden end following the outbreak of World War I in 1914. In August, New Zealand troops landed on Samoa and the Germans surrendered without resistance. In German New Guinea, there was fighting but Australian troops quickly gained control in September. In October, Japanese forces occupied the Marshals in Carolines and the remaining German islands north of the equator and it was all over. But for a decent period of time, a good 30 years or so, seemed like the Germans might end up with an empire that would rival the British and the French empires.

To even attempt that was a huge pursuit. The Germans in the late 19th and early and mid 20th century, not short on ambition when it came to territorial expansion, as we all know. And Germany needed enormous sums of money, as well as manpower to make this attempt, which meant that the empire had to foster a culture of patriotism, really nationalism, sacrifice, and duty. Indeed, the culture of Germany in the late 1800s was one very focused on just those things.

Let's now understand that culture, which will help us understand August Engelhardt's reaction to that culture. Like we talked about with other empires, the Japanese for one, the German Empire wanted its people to consider themselves Germans and only Germans, right? The powerful monster of nationalism. It can be great for an economy and for the average member of the majority culture standard of living, but it also leads to a tremendous loss of individual freedoms and depression and sometimes destruction of anyone deemed an other. To this nationalistic end, one major goal of reforms by the German Empire was to make

sure people didn't think of the Empire as just something that concerned politicians, rulers, diplomats, the wealthy. But instead, the Empire was a big collective of everyday people who adapted their lifestyles for the supposed good of the German Reich. We're all in this together. I mean, you're not going gonna make any fucking money, but we're in this together kind of. One way to do this was to eliminate the use of non-German languages in public life, schools and academic settings with the

intent of pressuring the non-German population to abandon their national identity in what was called Germanification. For most Germans what changed first was both straightforward and a major part of their lives. Work. Increased organization and industry was needed to sustain a global economy, which meant that there was a market increase in the number of working men and women between 1871 and 1913. From 17.3 million all the way to 30.9 million, almost double. This amounted to an average annual growth rate of 1.2 percent, which made the titans of industry much wealthier, and the average person could expect to see a little more economic and social mobility. Coal production, railroad companies, chemical manufacturing, and agriculture flourished.

To be sure, there were some slowdowns, but for the most part, the period saw large growth in many sectors of the economy. Workers too saw more benefits. In the 1880s, Bismarck introduced-age pensions, accident insurance, medical care and unemployment insurance that formed the basis of the modern European welfare program. The Social Security systems installed by Bismarck, health care in 1883, accident insurance in 1884, invalidity and old age insurance in 1889 at the time were the largest in the world and to some degree still exist in Germany today. This sort of policy was very appealing to the

government. It bound workers to the state. But there was no better way to make people loyal to the Empire than to have them become agents of the Empire itself. The need for more diplomats, emissaries, and trading agents to manage all these territories and exchanges creating an expansive network of civil servants. People employed by and faithful to the German Empire scattered around the world. And this didn't stop with Bismarck's exit from politics. Bismarck's seemingly impregnable position had one major weak spot. The Emperor had to regard him as indispensable. And the Emperor, Wilhelm I, Wilhelm in German, did, but then he died. On March 9th, 1888, Wilhelm I died shortly before his 91st birthday,

leaving his son Frederick II as the new emperor or new Kaiser. By the time of his ascension, recession, however, Frederick had developed incurable laryngeal cancer, which had been diagnosed in 1887. He died on just the 99th day of his rule, June 15th, 1888, and now his son, Wilhelm II becomes Kaiser. Wilhelm II, the third and last German Kaiser, had no allegiance to Bismarck's pragmatic piece-by-piece approach to building a new German Empire. He represented the new Germany, which knew zero moderation, a young, self-confident Germany which recognized

no limits to German power. And Wilhelm II was impatient with Bismarck's social conservatism, which seemed to estrange the Emperor from the mass of his subjects. The dispute between the Emperor and his cronies and Bismarck and his came to a head after the general election of 1890, when Bismarck had failed to follow the new cultural national trend and failed to carry the election. Bismarck wished to tear up the Imperial Constitution now which he himself had made and to set up a naked military dictatorship. The two would quarrel and ultimately Bismarck would resign in March of 1890. With Bismarck's departure, Wilhelm II now became the true sole ruler of Germany. Unlike his grandfather Wilhelm I, who had been largely

content to leave government affairs to the Chancellor, Wilhelm II wanted to be fully informed, actively involved in running Germany, not an ornamental figurehead, the way many German monarchs were at the time. He would usher in an era of creative ferment in the society, politics, culture, art, literature, and architecture of Germany. Like Bismarck, Wilhelm wanted to make Germany a global power, but he'd go full steam ahead, where Bismarck was a little more hesitant and careful, a little more pragmatic.

Unlike Bismarck, who favored keeping people loyal to Germany through jobs, social security, economic measures, Wilhelm thought the same thing could be accomplished via making German culture the best of the best, the most fun. And with more people gathered in cities, traveling around, being well employed, people turned to certain vices. The proliferation of social clubs meant the average German was drinking more, smoking

more, probably having more casual romantic dalliances as well, though there's not any statistical evidence to back that up. Lusifena assures me it's true, though. So much Bavarian scat play. Or maybe it wasn't that up. Lusifena assures me it's true though. So much Bavarian scat play! Or maybe it wasn't that wild. But much more decadent than it was before. Soon, German culture was thriving and seemed to be all about the empire, decadence, vice, appreciating the good life.

But there were people, as there always are in history, who looked at this growth and its associated values and lifestyle and decided, I like it. Not for me. Educators opposed to the German state-run schools, which emphasized military education, set up their own independent liberal schools, which encouraged individuality, the arts, freedom. Some Germans who didn't like where Germany was headed coalesced under the new banner of Lebensform, literally translated to lifestyle reform.

Instead of rushing to become citizens of the empire with industrious jobs to match, advocates for Lebensform advocated for just the opposite, returning to nature, living on a small parcel of land, hopefully by a body of water, living off the earth. Lebensform, in a certain sense, was a precursor to what we might call natural medicine, homeopathy today. The Lebensform movement in Germany originally was a politically diverse movement. was the precursor to what we might call natural medicine, homeopathy today. The Lebensform movement in Germany originally was a politically diverse movement. There were hundreds of groups across Germany dedicated to some or all

of the concepts associated with Lebensform. Ecology, organic farming, vegetarianism, naturalism aka nudity, and abstinence from alcohol and tobacco. I don't know. sounds kinda cool, but maybe also kinda boring. Though there were many different strains of Lebensform, almost all Lebensform enthusiasts agreed that people should eat natural, unprocessed products as much as possible.

You shopped at the health food store, known to this day as Reform House, and spent a lot of your time in the kitchen as the menus were a lot of work time in the kitchen as the menus were a lot of work. In addition, most advocated for a daily schedule that provided sufficient sleep and rest periods, which was dominated by an idea of moderation in all things. A person should not eat too much, should definitely not smoke or drink at all, and should be physically

active. Not even smoke weed? Again, that sounds kind of nice nice but kind of boring. In terms of leisure activities, Liebensformers went in for a whole range of sporting activities such as various ball games, popular ones at the time were similar to dodgeball or baseball today. Swimming, cross-country running, dancing and gymnastics were popular initially but then yoga with its breathing and relaxation techniques became more popular. The Swiss Naturist Federation published numerous yoga textbooks and thus contributed to the

spread of this activity in Switzerland as well. Indeed, many of today's yoga studios in Western nations are definitely a part of the Lievensform legacy, whether they realize it or not. Fascinatingly, not all of these groups were, as we might think, necessarily liberal. They came from all corners of the political spectrum Some would even be absorbed into national socialism aka the Nazi Party as early as 1907 Nazi dick Richard unquitter Published a pamphlet called nudity and culture which sold a hundred thousand copies

Arguing that the practices he recommended would be quote the means, quote, the means by which the German race would regenerate itself and ultimately prevail over its neighbors and the diabolical Jews who are intent on injecting putifying agents into the nation's blood and soil. Yeah, whip your fucking German cock sausage out. Flop out those bevaring titties. That'll teach those diabolical Jews! Not sure what it'll teach them, but it'll teach them something, it'll show them something! Now back to our main topic. Liebensform as a movement led to a lot of things, the proliferation of yoga, vegetarianism, nudist resorts, and even as we just learned, seeing some old Nazi peen. One other thing it would lead to, one very very bizarre thing, wouldn't have as much staying power or really any state of staying power at all but fascinating while it lasted before we get into that coconut madness a note regarding the upcoming timeline since as we mentioned record-keeping was so shoddy years listed for specific events

tend to vary so one source might say something happened in 1904 versus 1905 etc doesn't matter for this story. We'll be using the timeline of a doctoral dissertation written by Sven Möntor entitled Following a South Sea's Dream August Engelhardt and the Sanna Norden for the majority of our information. Let's now get into August Engelhardt's Coconut Cult or the Sanna Nordenen But before we go coconuts Here's today's first of two mid show sponsor breaks Thank you for sticking around. Thank you for listening to the show Thanks for supporting our sponsors

But if you don't want to hear these ads get the entire catalog ad free and more by signing up to be a spaces around Patreon for five bucks a month and now here is a weird-ass timeline Patreon for five bucks a month and now here is a weird-ass timeline. August Engelhardt was born on November 27th 1875 in the German city of Nuremberg. Most well known for the Nuremberg Trials, the post-World War II trials that would determine the guilt of high-ranking Nazi officials, Nuremberg has a history that dates back long before then. The first written mention of the city occurred in 1050 mentioning Nuremberg as the location of an imperial castle. From 1050 to 1572 the city expanded, rose dramatically in importance due to its location

on key trade routes. Later, the cultural flowering of Nuremberg in the 15th and 16th centuries made it the center of the German Renaissance, a time of elevated art, music, and architecture that is still visible in the city today. In 1852, there were 53,638 inhabitants composed mainly of 46,441 Protestants and 6,616 Catholics. And like many other German lands, it would voluntarily give itself over to Prussia, later the German Empire, during the Franco-Prussian War. Nuremberg subsequently grew to become the most important industrial city of southern Germany, one of the most prosperous towns of southern Germany, and the hometown of our August Engelhardt.

Information on August's early life is pretty scant, difficult to find, inaccessible due to privacy legislation, simply no longer in existence. As I mentioned before, records destroyed by two infamous world wars you've probably heard of. The available information we do have consists mainly of letters, recollections, and reports of people who came to know August Engelhardt during his time in German New Guinea. As a result, we don't know much about his family, not even the names of his parents, who seem to have died sometime around 1900 based on allusions to them and the letters no longer being in his life.

We know that his father was likely the owner of a factory that manufactured paints and varnish. So probably had some some coin and that'll come clear later that he had some family money it seems. Guess it, but probably. Also know he must have had a number of relatives as he frequently addressed letters to his dear relatives. One letter to Mr. And Mrs. Lorenz Sorgell ends, Best regards, your favorite brother, August Engelhardt. Indicating that Mrs. Sorgell was his sister since she doesn't share his surname. He had at least one brother, Heinrich Engelhardt, who appears in some letters. Heinrich would go on as the 1908 edition of Engelhardt's newsletter for Sun, Tropics, and Coconuts

would reveal, can't wait to start talking about this weird shit as it happens, to become the representative of the Son of Norden for Nuremberg and Bavaria. We also know that August left gymnasium, secondary school, early, having gotten what might in modern terms be called a GED. And afterwards, he quickly began training to be a pharmacist. He would later tell one person he was a graduate of Bonn University where he studied chemistry in order to train as a pharmacist but there is no record of him ever completing a doctorate or any other degree. So maybe exaggerated or just lied. He didn't have the most conventional education for being a pharmacist. He'd later be known

for having an enormous collection of books, particularly philosophy books, that he brought with him to New Guinea. He brought those books and little else. And historians assume he was introduced to these thinkers in college. He was also introduced through pharmacy school to the idea of Liebensform, right? Improving one's lifestyle, what we just covered above at length. But we didn't cover one important thinker who would influence Engelhardt greatly. A man named Gustav Schlickenhisen. I fucking love these names. I love a good German name.

GUSTAF SCHLICKENHEISEN! Actually, there's no N. SCHLICKHEISEN! Who wrote Fruit and Bread, a scientific diet in 1877. I love it. The book proposed that a frugivorous diet was the rational and natural diet for man. The book also mentioned new philosophy supposedly developing in the United States called Cocovorism, which was surviving off coconuts and coconuts alone. It's unclear where exactly this popped up. No books have been found to have like the first mention of Cocovorism. Sorcerers say it was an American trend without citing any real evidence but

nonetheless it fascinated Engelhardt. Can you fucking imagine trying, can you imagine just living off of one food? Does that appeal to you on any level? One of any kind of food? Coconut, beef, grapes, carrots. It's fucking crazy. No culture of people has ever done that because it's a terrible idea. Also pretty funny to think about. If you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be? And not just one meal. You can't see like tacos because that has multiple foods in it. No, it can't be like spaghetti. No, just one food. You know like in this way of Ingleheart's thinking it would just be like just tortilla or just cojita cheese. Or just, you know, pork. What would keep you healthiest and happiest the longest?

It's hard, right? Like two foods would be so much easier. Because I think in this thought experiment, you've got to think about health too. You know, if I was not lactose intolerant, like maybe milk? Maybe it actually would be coconut for me or soybeans, soybeans, you know, good carbs and proteins all together in one substance. If I could have two, I think it would be fish and blueberries. If I could have three, fish, blueberries, spinach. I think I could be healthy.

I'll fish, blueberries, and spinach. Fucking bored, but healthy. Two is so much better than one. Three, you know, I feel like I could live a long life, you know, on like halibut. I don't know, sea bass or salmon again, and spinach, blueberries, you know, but nothing but three, you know, still be tough. I bet your poop would look so fucking weird if you only ate one food. I bet August Englehart's poop looked so strange after he lived on nothing but

coconuts for years. Like was his shit just white? Anyway, in the late 1890s, in his early 20s, Engelhardt decides for himself that he wants to see how all these ideas can be put into practice. Not just as an individual, but as a community. And there were a lot of communities of people doing some weird shit in the late 19th century

and early 20th century in Germany and in America and elsewhere. Could a community thrive around the principles of coca-vorism? Could everyone's shit be as white as virgin snow? What a paradise! What if everyone's shit smelled like coconut? Oh, what a life! Sometime before 1900, August moved to the tiny, less than 200 person town of Eckertal in Germany to join his friends, brothers Adolf and Rudolf. I love it. Adolf and they sound like fucking reindeer. Sounds like there's one reindeer and the other one's like a reindeer with a tiny mustache and a lot of hate in his heart. They were running a sanatorium named Jungborn. This place. I

searched for it on YouTube to figure out how to say it. Ah, and there was this unintentionally hilarious video. Archival footage. This old black and white film shot at this place. Just all these pale ass German guys of all ages. Looks like, you know, I don't know, 16 to 75. Running around naked together in this nice yard. Big groups of dudes doing naked push-ups. Jogging around naked. Playing catch and keep away naked. Just a lot of German dick flopping around. Stretching naked, standing in line naked, getting naked mud baths. Women in the video were clothed, which was a bummer. Because a lot of them seemed like they were pretty hot.

Saw way too many dicks, zero vaginas. But in real life, the women also would be naked at Jungborn. Seems like Jungborn was mostly about being naked. Getting healthy by being naked as often as possible. Let's take a tour now of Jungborn and the health movements that would come to shape it because this will influence August a lot because he's studying all this before he goes on his coca-vorism adventure. And we'll do this not only because it's pertinent to the story and industry, it's also kind of like a 19th century whack-a-doodle of the week. Oh man,

these sanatoriums, their sanatorium culture, it's fucking fascinating. A sanatorium from the Latin word meaning to heal, make healthy, also sanitarium, is a historic name for a specialized hospital for the treatment of specific diseases, related ailments and convalescence, the period after an illness in which one gets better.

Sanatoriums treated communicable diseases like tuberculosis, serving the dual purpose of quarantining the sick, providing them with environment that was thought to help them get better. For example, instead of living in a crowded city which might aggravate their illness, they could breathe fresh air and eat food straight from the countryside. But there were also sanitariums that focused on more obscure diseases like hysteria, fatigue, emotional exhaustion to name a few. And these sanitariums usually available only to the wealthy because it was thought that only the wealthy had the time to experience something like emotional exhaustion. Everyone else, you know, they didn't have time to think about being emotionally exhausted,

too much shit to focus on, like, you know, keeping their jobs going so their fucking lives wouldn't crumble. These became kind of like you know crosses between hospitals and country clubs these places. For these people senatoriums were like huge hotels that peddled lifestyle fads. The modern-day equivalent to like a Gwyneth Paltrow goop cruise. And yes there has been a goop cruise. I think they're doing it again in September. I hate that I know that. It's called Goop at Sea. A lot of spa time. A lot of facials. So much massage and crystals and stones and rejuvenation and meditation and you do get to eat a lot more than coconuts. In some ways it actually does sound kind of

nice. Fucking annoying people there but nice. Some ritzy sanatoriums in Germany were the New York Nipponum, for example, an elegant and spacious palatial building, the Bottacher, operated by John and Sophia Schleel, or Scheele, the Light and Water Cure Institute, oh that sounds wacky as fuck, of Ludwig and Carola Staden, a sanitarium developed by Professor F.W. Reichmeier. I don't know anything about him. I'm gonna guess he wasn't a real professor. He used Neap and Prisnitz as his models. To be fair, even these ritzy places could be terrifying if you found yourself involuntarily committed to one, which I guess was possible at some of them.

Let's say you were committed to John Harvey Kellogg Sanitarium in the states in Battle Creek, Michigan. The Battle Creek Sanitarium. It'll be easier to reference an American sanitarium from this era since we just have more source material available. Excuse me. You might recognize John Harvey's name from the cereal aisle. He was also the inventor of Kellogg's cereal, one of his many health-oriented inventions. Probably his best invention. He was an early proponent of the germ theory of disease as well though. Outside of those and a few other good ideas he was fucking batshit crazy. Really bizarre. Like many others Battle Creek approached treatment in a holistic manner, actively promoting

vegetarianism, nutrition, exercise, sunbathing, hydrotherapy, you know, abstinence from smoking tobacco, drinking alcoholic beverages, and any sexual activity. Sounds terrible. You can also find yourself on the receiving end of one of Kellogg's many many strange experiments in health like the yogurt enema. Showbiz! That's how you do it in Battle Creek! Make some yogurt into the peanut butter! Peanut butter yogurt! Kellogg believed that natural changes in what he called intestinal flora, aka bacteria, could be sped up by enemas, frequent enemas, seeded with favorable bacteria. You should definitely try this next time you have a tummy ache. Don't be a fucking baby!

Don't get weird about it, just do it. Go grab a box of SpongeBob go-gurts. You probably already have a box at home. If you got little kids, just stick one up your ass. Stop being a fucking baby and stick a go-gurt in your ass. Squeeze that plastic tube hard You got to shoot up some sugary strawberry yogurt into your intestines I'm gonna have to loosen things up with lube and a butt plug first. So you got a nice gape to get shit in there It's not gonna be a sexual gape. It's gonna be a health gape for your health This actually sounds like an extra demented, you know advice segment from check it out with Dr. Steve Bruhl

I fucking love that adult swim segment so much Kellogg but this is real life. Kellogg also advocated for frequent use of an enema machine To cleanse your bowels with several gallons of water and wily old cereal baron. He loved him some fancy butt play Water enemas. It's a selfie water enemas are followed by the administration of a pint of yogurt Half would be eaten by your regular mouth. Other half shot up into your butt mouth. Other half administered by planting the protective germs where they are most needed and may render most effective service according to the doctor himself.

You got to attack that digestive system from both ends. Show no mercy! There's a full cup, and half a pint is a full cup of butt yogurt. So you put one full cup of yogurt into your mouth, and then another full cup squirted right up into your ass, frequently. Oh, Mr. Kellogg, you freaky motherfucker, you. I feel like shit like that is what you end up doing when you try to abstain from sexual activity at all.

You start justifying weird life hacks, like, you know, shooting yogurt up your ass every morning for your health. Wonder if his butt yogurt had large chunks of fruit in it. And also did his poop taste like yogurt? Yeah, would it be safe to eat? So many questions. What if he had other unorthodox health treatments that were clearly sexual in nature that he just didn't advertise publicly? Yes, that's right. This will promote bladder health and decrease the chance of you ever getting Penis cancer, which is quite common and dangerous. You're just gonna want to uh, you're just gonna want to stick your love club into a Ripe butternut squash. Mm-hmm gonna cut the right size hole in the rind and off you go. Have at it boy

Really give it a healthy go! Keep thrusting until ejaculation to make sure you've properly coated your penile skin and urethra with enough butternut enzyme to get the full health benefits. Ladies, now it's your turn to eliminate the chance of ovarian cancer. You're going to want to peel a cucumber. Stick it up your hoo-ha. Stick it in your serpent socket until climax. Make sure you've done a thorough job for your health. Back to business now, it's just going to be just as weird as what I went over. Back to butt yogurt business. Kellogg believed that yogurt served to replace the intestinal floor of the bowel, creating what Kellogg claimed was a squeaky clean intestine, or a really gross yogurt

lined one. What Kellogg did not promote for your health was masturbation. He was the most against it. Like, aggressively against it. He thought it was bad for your health. Mr. Kellogg was a zealous lifelong foe of what he actually referred to as the solitary vice and the vile practice. Bad bald-headed, bald-headed giggle stick. An enthusiastic Seventh-day Adventist, Kellogg wrote that masturbation led to poor digestion, memory loss, impaired vision. This is all coming from jerking off. Heart disease, epilepsy and insanity. Jerk off till you fucking go crazy. To name just a few of the insidious side effects. I literally laughed out loud, probably harder than is normal when I first read that. As someone who has been

masturbating on a regular basis for over three decades for my health and pleasure, I can assure you it does not lead to those side effects. If it did I would certainly be blind, insane, epileptic, I'd have continual diarrhea, wouldn't be able to remember my own name, which I know is of course Pat Sajak. Do you know that Pat Sajak is retiring from Wheel of Fortune? The last show is set for June 7th. God knows what deviant shit he has planned for June 8th. Possibly some Dick Bird level of debauchery. Anyway, to break his young patience of this nasty working wanking habit, Kellogg suggests

the procedures that range from ridiculous to barbaric, including tying up your hands so you can't actually grab Katz Winkie or DJ, your penis flytrap, bandaging the offending organ, literally wrapping your dick up in gauze, or my favorite, I'm not making this up. I know you probably don't trust me after the dick bird stuff, but putting a cage over it. A cock cage. He didn't call it that. That's what it was. The founder of Kellogg's cereals, John Harvey Kell Kellogg was an absolute maniac Imagine actually putting on some kind of belt with like a wire cage compartment that you put your dick and balls in You're not putting jeans on over that just I guess just wearing sweatpants with a constant massive bulge is your regular look

Oh, don't worry about this. Oh, no. I'm just I'm just trying not to go blind. I don't want to lose my mind No, no need for alarm. I'm just trying not to go blind. I don't want to lose my mind. No need for alarm. It's just my cock cage. Nobody be afraid. I got my cock cage. Can't hurt anyone. If that didn't work, Kellogg literally recommended circumcision

without anesthetic. Oh my god. Quote, as the brief pain attending the operation will have a salutatory effect upon the mind. He wrote that in his book, Plain Facts for Old and Young. Is that a plain fact? He was a psychopath. And we've talked about him before actually.

It's been a long time. And I forgot how much he hated touching his dick or just dicks in general. Where did that level of hate come from? He must have been addicted to jerking off at some point. Just unable to get anything done. His life is in ruins because he can't stop jerking off. Just whacking it seven, eight, nine, ten times a day. He literally had blisters and calluses all over his shaft, open sores, and he's still trying to stroke through the pain. Then finally he's like, enough! This is no way to live! I have to find a way to stop this! I have to

burn this child as a snake! I gotta put this meat puppet custard launcher in a cage! Where it belongs! Get in that cage, you dirty little serpent. Kellogg had an even more gruesome set of treatment for girls, including the application of pure carbolic acid to the clitoris. Or in more extreme cases, if you just couldn't stop diddling, if you just loved having orgasms too much, if you just couldn't stop riding your own bicycle, he recommended surgical removal of the clitoris. He was a demon. And Kellogg was not thought of as a quack for any of this, far from it. He had many notable patients. Hopefully they didn't do a lot of stuff themselves,

including former president William Howard Taft, aviator Amelia Earhart, economist Irving Fisher, Nobel Prize winning playwright George Bernard Shaw, founder of the Ford Motor Company, who he was a nut, Henry Ford, inventor Thomas Edison, African American activist Sojourner Truth, and many others. President Calvin Coolidge even had one of the doctor's mechanical horses in the White House, one of his other exercise inventions. No word on whether or not President Coolidge also kept his cock in a cage. Let's pretend for fun that he did. Let us think going forward when we think of President Coolidge also kept his cock in a cage. Let's pretend for fun that he did. Let us think going forward when we think of President Coolidge, which you know is probably not often, let's just think of a deranged man screaming at his caged cock in the Oval Office. And you will stay in there until you learn to show me some goddamn respect.

And he slaps the side of the cage a few times to let his dick know he means business before pulling his over trousers back over the cage. People like Kellogg, men and women who ran the gamut from entrepreneurs to health practitioners to inventors and activists and sometimes charlatans, would open more and more sanatoriums to the public that was eager to solve any and all of their problems. And the ones that offered the more basic cures, good diets, baths, plenty of time to relax, no cock cages, no clitoral removal, they became a haven for the well-to-do with advertising specifically aimed at drawing an upscale crowd. Advertising as we'll see too with August Engelhardt was

just as important as actually owning and maintaining these facilities. In the 1890s a publisher named Benedict Lust would put out lists of top healing centers. Soon, Lust would also become Adolf Juist's publisher for his works and his advertisements for Jungborn. In this senatorium and model institution for pure natural lifestyle, as the advertisement went, nudism and vegetarianism were regarded as the fundamental pillars of a healthier lifestyle. According to these ads, the mission of Jungborn was to cure or relieve as much as possible

chronic patients of all kinds by the application of the natural method of healing, employing only air, light, water, electricity, magnetism, hypnotism, massage, gymnastics, and rational diet. The natural method of nudity was also working in there. Naked massage. So naked massage and nude gymnastics. I'm listening. Could be a nightmare to see. Could be heaven. All depends on who's doing naked floor routine. Nudism and hypnotism sounds dangerous. There were no drugs found at the Jungborn. Mmm, bummer. Sounds like it would be a great place to be high. Lust or juice, it's unclear from sources who exactly was writing this stated,

We do not believe in curing one disease by producing another. We remove the cause of the disease and so get rid of it entirely. Not sure why he felt or why they, you know, whoever wrote that felt a need to state that part. Seems obvious. Just so you know, unlike our competition, when we cure one disease, we don't give you another one. Fresh air, plenty of exercise, outdoors, sunshine, a vegetarian diet of fresh vegetables and fruits, nuts, dairy and farm-fresh eggs were the main tenets of life at Yuleborn. Yes, another dietary option such as the frugivorous diet, advocated by a writer named Louis Kuhn, the raw food diet, and also complete fasting. Oh, fun.

Another key element of natural healing available at Jungborn was the focus on removing from the body its toxic impurities. Advertisement stated, the depurative organs, and these alone, must do all the work of purification, and there are ways to aid them which have no bad effects. Spring fever, that tired feeling, and other spring ailments that have been brought on by a lack of exercise, stuffed rooms, and a wrong diet during the winter months, are also amenable to quick treatment and cure at this time. Uh, I think that tired feeling is spring fever brought on by pollen.

A little Claritin should knock it right out. Maybe add some Flonase if you need an extra boost. So how would you help your body most effectively get rid of your internal impurities? By bathing of course. That's right the same act that got you squeaky clean on the outside could also get you squeaky clean on the inside. If you believe these fools. There were so many baths at Jungborn.

So much rub-a-dub-dub and so many tubs. You might not come out on the other side any healthier, but God, you're gonna be so fucking clean. Every imaginable bath could be experienced at Jungborn. Full bath, half bath, trunk bath, hip bath, whatever the hell that is. Partial bath plus full vapor or steam bath, steam jets and steam compresses.

Cold wet sheet compresses, cold wraps, and every variation were available, as well as the signature treatment used by health advocate Father Sebastian Neep. This guy's a fucking carnivorous. The water treatment aka the Gush. You gotta get to Gushing, which I don't think is the same as Qwerty. Neep credited the gush for saving his life. Like Benedict Lust, Neep as a young man contracted tuberculosis at a time when that disease was synonymous with certain death. His salvation, according to him, was a little book on a cold water cure written by Dr. Johann Sigmund Hahn, which gave him enough guidance to self-administer water therapies and successfully

treat and cure his tuberculosis, allegedly. Neep describes the importance of that book in the following way. The little volume was at first— The little volume was at first the straw to which— No, that's annoying. To which I clung as a drowning man. It became in a short time the staff supporting the invalid. Today it is the lifeboat which was sent to me by a merciful providence in the nick of

time—providence with a capital P, in the hour of extreme peril. And with that in mind he would develop the gush. So what exactly is the gush? Get ready for an anti-climatic definition. It's pretty much what it sounds like. It's a but pathetic. It's just a gush of water. It's just a gush of cold water applied to the body. It's basically just being sprayed with a garden hose. Gushes, but it sounds fancy, gushes were administered to specific body parts depending on pathology. For example, this is their terms, the arm douche was indicated when the arm was powerless caused by paralysis or rheumatism according to, oh is your arm paralyzed? Let me

give you an arm douche. That should restore to full function. Another Neep treatment was the hip douche. Was this guy laughing privately about all this stuff? In taking the first hip douche, a patient would experience water applied to the back of the feet and very gradually ascending to the knees. The stream of water would gradually raise from the knees to the hips to the middle of the back. However, Neep emphatically cautioned that quote, the douching from below to above must be conducted very slowly. Don't fucking speed douche. You'll ruin it. You'll end up completely paralyzed. Water was not applied haphazardly but methodically

such that quote, the water must flow equally over the hip so that it looks as though covered with a sheet of glass. Can you just fucking dive into a pool? When you get out of that garden hose you can't just spray someone down all willy-nilly and expect to cure their arthritis. Get out of here! This isn't horseplay! This isn't fun and games! This is very scientific treatment. You need to wear glasses so you look studious. You have a sense of authority. You probably should put on a lab coat and carry a clipboard in the hand not holding the garden hose. For the hip douche, six to ten watering cans would be used or about four gallons of water.

Doesn't sound like much. For weak persons, one can of water could be sufficient. Neep would use up to ten cans of water in treatments to counter obesity. Spray that cellulite right off, baby. I feel so stupid. Not thinking of how to get rid of some belly fat this way before. I've been exercising like a madman this year. But why? I can get all toned up in the shower, never break a sweat or feel short of breath.

I just douched my water right. Thank you, Dr. Neep. This is so incredibly stupid. I can see why this never really caught on. This makes me think, what dumb shit are we doing today that we're gonna look back on 100 years from now and wonder what the fuck anyone was thinking. Looking at you and all the nonsense supplements used to sell Alex Jones. Take your lung cleanse spray and your prostaguard pills and shove them

up your ass with a cup of yogurt. All that being said there is a website, sadly a very well-maintained nice looking, active right now, neep.com, that is based on this bullshit. K-N-E-I-P-P.com if you're curious. From the about us section of the website, to this day, water applications form the basis of neep therapy. Because they are so easy to use, well yeah, you just fucking dumped them in the water yourself, they are also suitable for use at home in most cases.

A shower hose, for example, from which the showerhead is unscrewed is suitable So my garden hose bullshit spot-on it actually is that dumb Despite you know you just do the stuff at your house. They sell a lot of stuff. Hey, are you feeling stressed? Are you really stressed out? Are you dreading having some hard talks with yourself about who knows romantic or career choices? stressed out are you dreading having some hard talks with yourself about who knows romantic or career choices you know are you needed to work harder on relationships of some kind you wonder how you're gonna pay some kind of outrageous medical bill we have to pick up a third job to help with your stress now fuck no just go to neap.com and pick up their goodbye stress rosemary and

water mint aromatherapy bubble bath. $16 for 13.5 ounces. Those stressful medical bills will just be rosemaryed and minted right on down the drain. Goodbye, stress! From Neep. Fucking over the desperate and or the dumb since 1891. Following in the vein of Neep, there were an abundance of water therapies at Jungborn. Baths, douches, gushes galore, so much gushing and water-douching and yogurt gaping, so much shit for your health. Jungborn offered even more, like Adolf Eust's Earth Cure Compresses,

Earth Baths, that's a fancy way of saying just laying in some mud, Barefoot Walking, and sleeping outdoors on the earth to expose the body to the earth's magnetic current. Those were some cornerstone treatments. Sleeping on the ground, right? Expose your body to earth's healing magnetic current for your health. Actually based on the archival footage I watched this fancy treatment kind of like the gush that could be easily done in your yard, right? You just dig a grave-sized hole but two feet deep instead of six, spray it down with your therapy hose, get all the dirt muddy and lay in the mud and that's it. Voila! You're cured! You're cured of

whatever ails you! You're getting magnetic earth current from your earth bath. Many relished their so-called earth baths and their healing magnetism. Benedict Lust claimed that earth baths were probably taken by every patient. Okay cool. Visitors to Jungborn were encouraged to sleep on the ground to capitalize on the earth's, like I said, electrical forces according to Benedict Lust. People would marvel at how deeply arrested they felt after sleeping on the earth. Oh yeah, no, the placebo effect is very real. So is the social pressure to tell someone exactly what they want to hear. Jungborn also prescribed nudism, groundbreaking. Your clothes are prescribed nudism, groundbreaking.

Your clothes are stressing you out, lady. Take off that blouse. Come on, toss that bra out of here. Let those titties fly free. Get that dress off. Ride your own bicycle around the yard. Air that silly old puss out. Get some mud on it when you take your dirt nap or earth bath or whatever.

Recalibrate it with some earth magnets. Like in other sanatoriums, light and air baths were conducted in the open air or under electric lights, but unlike in other sanatoriums, nude bathing was a daily activity at Jungborn with one session in the morning. I love how they describe it as a session. Like it's an important medical treatment. I'm having a session right now. You're just standing in the fucking yard naked in the mud. I know. It's my mud nude sun session for my arthritis. You have a session in the morning, another session in the afternoon, and then you'd have bathing in some brooks and swimming areas after that for all your treatment. John Harvey Kellogg would have lost his fucking mind at

Yonge-Bourne. Oh my god, he'd have put his dick in a cock cage faster than you can say clitoral removal. Men and women had their own secluded and private areas at Yonge-Bourne called the Air and Light Park for enjoying air, you know, because that's the thing that only they offered was like this certain kind of air and they had a special kind of sun

that came into their facility. Oh yeah, they wrote each park is within a pine board and stockade ten feet high and no casual visitor is allowed within the sacred precincts. This is in the New York Press. Separate sections of the 60 acres are set apart for the sexes where the greatest freedom from dress restrictions may be enjoyed. That's a fancy way of saying just being nude. The greatest freedom from dress restrictions. Yeah, just be naked. Guests were even encouraged to remain nude while they slept. I like that actually. I sleep naked. Not sure how much it affects my health, but I do think it keeps my balls from smelling. It gets sweaty down there. You have to ventilate. The guests at Youngborn

live and sleep in charming and friendly little air and lighthouses, which are not huts and stand fully in the open air, surrounded by shrubs and trees. Continue with that New York Press description. These air and lighthouses were constructed with two rooms, one room for each guest, so that each room is fully free at three sides. They are provided at all sides with blinds, windows, air valves, which can at every time be kept open or closed. According to Adolf Juss, right, I love like, there's an air valve. Like that's a fancy thing.

Well, we have this special health air valve that you can just open it up and you'll let health air in from outside. Oh, kind of like opening a window. Seems like all this made Jungborn very touchy, as in a very erotic place. Hail, Lucifina! Massage was freely available with attendance at the service of the patients for purpose of, quote, rubbing and stroking the body by way of applying and transferring human curative power and animal heat in the most natural and effective manner, according to Benedict Lust. Mr. Lust, indeed! No dicks getting wrapped up in Kellogg's baloney bandages at his sanatorium. Another treatment practiced on women making this all the more sexual was the Thurbrandt gynecological massage which helped relieve pelvic displacements and inflammation. Is your pelvis inflamed? Let me massage your vagina. In this the doctor or therapist or random pervert would put his or her finger in the vagina of the patient.

Mm-hmm. Yeah, in. And simultaneously, this wasn't sex though. No. And simultaneously would massage uterus from the outside with the other hand. All the while providing quote vibratory shaking. Yeah, yeah. Nah, that sounds hot. I'm sure that this treatment never ever led to flat out fucking or sucking. No, no way. No way. Ah, ah. Everything was above board here.

Just doing a little hysterical finger blasting, my lady. Just testing the bicycle's brakes. Gotta make sure they work. Gotta make sure everything's up to code. Basically, through focused, though focused ostensibly on health, Youngborn was a pretty sexy place to live. And August Engelhardt, right, he's a part of all of this. He's witnessing this. He's participating in all this. He's at Youngborn. His friends are helping run it. Looking at all that, it wasn't exactly crazy for him to think that people might also go for Kokovoism. I mean, look at what they were already doing with the hysterical finger-blasting. While at Youngborn, August first preached about Kokovoism and he had a good reception

for it. So much so it gave him the confidence to give talks on Kokovoism blasting. While at Jungborn, August first preached about cocavorism and he had a good reception for it. So much so it gave him the confidence to give talks on cocavorism outside the confines of Jungborn to the general public in Leipzig and Nuremberg and you can probably imagine how that went. Not well. He was ridiculed, he was mocked and laughed at and I imagine pointed at. It seemed only the people who were already interested and getting pretty unorthodox with their health regiments were interested in hearing him out. So August reasoned in order to properly sell people on his new coconut centric lifestyle he would need to open his own sanitarium. Except August Engelhardt didn't really want to own a sanatorium.

Sanitarium, whatever. He didn't want to prescribe a lifestyle for the sick. He wanted to prescribe a lifestyle for everyone. He wanted everyone to be part of his coconut club. And now that he was thinking about that, he started writing. As early as 1898, together with August Bethman, his new friend he had met at Jungborn, and a self-proclaimed nature writer who would later join him in New Guinea, Engelhardt published a book called A Carefree Future, The New Gospel. It will become the blueprint for the Son of Norden, its manifesto of sorts, and a passage of this literary, highly valued book read.

The Kokovoristic sun man is man as he should be. Living in harmony with God, he receives everything straight from the hands of his God, the kind-hearted sun. He stores solar power with his eyes, hair and skin. He thus needs only a small amount of oxygen. Gentle air makes light, makes alive. Agile. Elastically. The stay under, the permanent bright sky embedded into an evergreen flora is most suited for mankind especially for intellectual activities. The coconut is the philosopher's stone. What are universities compared with such a lifestyle?

Yeah, why go to school? When you could fucking just eat coconut. It's the same. You learn more eating a coconut and being out in the sun than from any books you could ever read. What was that? Was that a weird poem? Was that the musings of someone with a head full of acid? No, it was August Engelhardt sharing his coconut and sun-laden vision for the future development of mankind. If only man could survive long term off coconuts alone. We'll see how an attempt to

do so worked out for August Engelhardt himself, but first let's take a moment to look at some nutritional science. Right after our second of two mid-show sponsor breaks. And I'm back, coconuts. Time to look into just how nutritious coconuts are and how despite overall being, you know, really good for you, they will still leave you with some pretty significant nutritional deficits that long term will have disastrous consequences for your health. Coconuts are a pretty decent source of calories if that's what you're looking for. 283 calories per cup of shredded coconut meat. The fruit or meat

of a medium coconut contains about 1,400 calories. On a 2,000 calorie diet you don't have to eat about one and a half coconuts a day. In 1,996 calories of coconut, about as much as an average person would need in a day, you get 164 grams of fat, 131 grams of carbohydrates, 27 grams of protein, and you'd have seven and a half cups of water from the coconut milk. Both essential fatty acids are deficient in coconut cell with omega-6 barely being within a minimally accepted range. Omega-3 completely absent. Very long term that'll be a problem. Body fat breakdown can supply these essential fatty acids

for quite a while assuming your diet wasn't deficient in either before you found yourself in a coconut only fucking crazy town environment like being stranded on an island. Total protein is also too low but it's high enough that you know you would probably die if you were stranded of something else before it became a fatal problem. You'd also increase caloric intake to around 3,500 4,000 calories per day which is probably what would be required of you anyways if you were trying to survive on an island. And then your protein requirements would be minimally met. All essential amino acids are very close to the WHO recommendations even at only 27 grams of protein

and all are easily exceeded at a 3,500 to 4,000 calorie intake. It is a pretty, you know, amazing food. Calcium and zinc are high enough that they probably won't be an issue before something else is. Plus neither one is really critical for short-term survival, only long-term health. Your body can store years of B12, so assuming your diet wasn't only coconuts or otherwise deficient before you got stranded, that wouldn't be the first problem to arise either. The liver stores about one to two years worth of vitamin A. Did not know that. So assuming you weren't deficient to begin with vitamin A deficiency, probably not going to be an issue for some time. to begin with vitamin A deficiency probably not going to be an issue for some time.

That leaves only vitamin E, vitamin K, niacin, and pantothenic acid as likely candidates for the first life-threatening deficiencies you'd have to face. Niacin deficiency can lead to pellagra in four to five years and pellagra not pretty. Pellagra symptoms include inflamed skin, diarrhea, dementia, sores in the mouth, areas of the skin exposed to either sunlight or friction are typically affected first. Over time, affected skin may become darker, stiffen, peel, and bleed. In terms of other nutrients, pantothenic acid deficiency is extremely rare and the complications associated with it are not life threatening. Gut bacteria can also synthesize their own pantothenic acid, although the amount of this pantothenic acid that humans can actually absorb is unknown.

You also get a notable amount of vitamin K from gut fermentation, but it's unclear if coconuts alone can provide the necessary precursors required to facilitate and or maximize that synthesis. Symptomatic vitamin E deficiency is unlikely in adults, so short-term survival probably would not be compromised from a lack of vitamin E. All things considered, you probably wouldn't begin to show symptomatic

deficiency for at least six months, and that would be from lack of B vitamins in general. If you could find a source of B vitamins, any type of meat, you would greatly increase your chance of long-term survival. If you did not get enough vitamin B, you can and likely will eventually encounter very severe symptoms like memory loss, depression, skin infections, rheumatoid arthritis, brain damage, mouth ulcers, muscle fatigue, and a bunch of other terrible shit before heart failure kills you. We do need a variety of nutrients to stay alive long term.

But August Engelhardt did not know that. For him it was a coconut or bust. So where was August to form his coconut community, his cocoa community? Originally he thought about Germany but then the young born facilities were shut down. Newtism at the time in Germany as it turns out was considered illegal and immoral. And August's friend Adolf Hust will be convicted of improper activities as a naturopath and sent to prison. Now Engelhardt starts setting the sights further afield. In early 1902, some sources say the summer, our main source says early 1902,

after serving for one year in the 14th Infantry Regiment, now 26 year old August Engelhardt, leave Germany for New Guinea, ready to make his ideas a reality. Actually, he didn't have to, he didn't only leave, excuse me, to chase his dreams. Right after Adolf Just was sent to prison for charlatanism, he was worried about that being happening to him as well. Before he left, he still needed to prepare. For one thing, he needed resources to buy land for his commune. And he also had to make some people believe in him back in Europe, who would be recruiting for him then when he left for his coconut paradise. He needed some apostles, some coconut apostles, some co coconut apostles, some apostle nuts, something like that.

His first devotees would be Heinrich Engelhardt, his brother, Alwin Schmeider and Alexander Froedrich from Vienna. Those three men would help publish August's letters, leaflets, and advertisements as well as sell his books when he was abroad. With that, August could lay the foundation for his brotherhood of sun worshipers, which he now named the Order of the Sun, Equatorial Settlers Association. So how was all this adventure to come going to be financed? This is such a crazy plan. It's unclear, but we assume that August probably inherited money from his parents. It doesn't seem that he ever worked other than writing and his writing was never remotely popular so it couldn't have been that lucrative. There's a whole harebrained coconut plant of his reeks

of trust fund money. Somehow again probably his parents money or the funds from some other relative August manages to travel from Germany all the way to the South Pacific. He'd have spent an enormous sum of, you know, money simply packing up and shipping his library, which he did. He left some pieces of furniture, some other effects in Nuremberg. In early 1902, he wrote a letter to Mr. and Mrs. Sorgell, those folks whose historians think were probably his sister and brother-in-law, saying, I will not return home in the next two to three years." Well, he'll end up being gone a lot longer than that. In the summer of 1902, Engelhardt arrives at Herberto, now Cocopo in German New Guinea.

Herberto, named after the eldest son of Otto von Bismarck, was the headquarters of the German colonial administration and seat of the German governor at that time. And so it was a natural starting point for every German coming to German New Guinea. Still it wasn't much. This is what would have typically been experienced by a new European visitor arriving at the seat of the colonial administration in German New Guinea. Coming along the East coast of New Britain, second largest island in the South seas and through St.

George's channel, the steamer would enter Blanche Bay, long bay on the Gazelle Peninsula named after the German survey ship SMS Gaz Gazelle which had surveyed the area in 1874. On board, the passengers standing out on the deck would be greeted by the intense green of the rainforest, the glittering sea in the bay, and the hot tropical sun. On reaching the entrance to the bay, it would feel as if the sun's intensity had suddenly increased as the fresh sea breeze would give way to the hot and humid climate of the tropics. Within a few minutes, people would begin to sweat. Men would start taking off their hats to wipe their faces.

Ladies would begin to fan themselves. The temperature here varies throughout the day from about 77 to 85 degrees Fahrenheit throughout the year. It doesn't vary much. The record low is 65 degrees, but the average low is 78 degrees. Record high is 90, but average high is 94 degrees. So it usually only varies by about, you know, 7-8 degrees year-round, you know, throughout the day and night. All seasons. It really isn't seasons here.

The humidity varies a lot less. It's right around 78% all day, every day, year-round. With that temperature and heat combo, it's basically going to feel like it's between 80 and 100 degrees every single day without exception. Or between 27 and 38 degrees Celsius. It's sweaty. It's sweaty ballsack weather just all the time, day and night. Standing on the landing stage waiting for the passengers to disembark, our half-naked native porters, their skin shimmering with the sweat and the sunlight, a number of Europeans in their white tropical suits. These European residents of the colony would always gather when a ship arrives as its arrival was a social event.

Also, many would be waiting for a new employer or other business interests, perhaps a loved one to arrive. And damn near everyone would be hoping that the unloading of the mailbags meant receiving letters from loved ones or correspondences from you know business you know their business relationships and if not then they at the least would want to hear news and gossip from home or elsewhere in the world. This group of Europeans would also be thirsty for the lively pleasures the ship was bringing such as good cold German beer and fresh meat. Some might even be so excited they might row canoes out to the ship as it entered the bay, climbing aboard to stand on deck with a cold

bottle of beer in hand. Soon joined by other European residents, the travelers would head to join the captain and his officers in the dining room if the ship had one, in a little send-off celebration. There'd be a friendly chat and of course more cold drinks they'd missed for so long. Normally, there'd be the chance to sink one's teeth into a good piece of meat which otherwise was hard to come by in the colony outside of fish. As for the pleasures of the colony, that was about it. The main building in the small town of Herberto was the post office. Built in June of 1890, just 12 years earlier. That says a lot when the coolest building in your entire

colony is the fucking post office. There was also a small two-story hotel with a wide porch, smattering, two stories, smattering of private plantation surrounded it. And that was about it. Development of New Guinea was slow because the German government didn't even formally take over the area until April 1st, 1899. Once it became clear that private sources would not be able to finance the necessary development within the colony, as they were focused on trying to run, you know, turn over a profit for themselves with their plantations. Those private sources were plantation owners,

Germans who oversaw the production and sale of copra and hoped to make great fortunes on the remote Pacific Island. One of those people was Emma Forsaith, known as Queen Emma in Herbitoe. She ran the Forsaith company, as Queen Emma in Herberto. She ran the Forsaith Company, the premier plantation on the island. She won't really come up again in today's main story. I think she gets referenced once towards the end. But she's an interesting figure and her life is worth just a slight diversion. Born Emma Coe, September 26, 1860, her father was an American commercial agent who moved

to Samoa in 1838. Whereupon he married, according to one account, six different Samoan women, and then fathered 18 children. Emma was one of those kids, allegedly the daughter of a Samoan princess. She then grew up in the U.S. with relatives after the age of 11, then returned to Samoa at the age of 19, where her father, now a consul, married her off to James Forsaeth, a ships officer. Forsaeth established multiple trading posts before he was lost at sea,

and Emma continued where he left off. When Colonel Steinberger, a representative of American President Ulysses S. Grant, arrived in Samoa, she became his personal assistant. And after her father got deported after falling out of favor with local Samoans, Emma left Samoa with her lover, James Farrell, and the two headed to the islands of New Britain

and New Ireland to trade copra with the local population for beads, tobacco knives, and mirrors. Emma and James Farrell would even help people who got swindled by the French Marquis de Reyes, who had said he would set up a colony for them at the south-eastern tip of New Ireland in exchange for their life savings. When the four ships carrying the would-be colonists, about 500 people, arrived at the island to find nothing waiting for them, Emma and James arranged for them to move to Australia, while Durez was tried and found guilty of fraud in France. In 1881, Emma became interested in land

around the Gazelle Peninsula of New Britain and decided to break things off with James Farrell, who continued trading. Emma bought the land from the local chiefs and with the assistance of her Danish brother-in-law Richard Parkinson Even down in the South Pacific in late 19th century will find a dick and she set up a large coconut and cocoa plantation around Herbitoe there should become well known for her charismatic personality Extravagant parties which she sometimes organized with the help of her nieces. It was during this period She became known as the Queen of New Guinea and Emma was the person to talk to if he had any business interests in this area. She ran the shit. And on September 15th, 1902, some sources say October 2nd, with Emma's help, August

Engelhardt becomes the new owner of Capicon, the southwestern island of the Duke of York group of islands, north of Herberto. Some sources say he was just the owner of a plantation on Capicon, not the whole island. Either way, he paid around 41,000 marks. According to random historical currency exchange and inflation calculators online, that's about $350,000 today, but that's what they say. I don't believe that. However much it was, it was enough to buy a bunch of land in a new colony where almost no other Germans wanted to live. He began making his home there October 2nd as the only white person amongst 40 indigenous Melanesian and Solomon Island workers. Capocon was 28 miles from Herbetto. His property was 185 acres. The other 123 acres of the island were a protected

nature reservation inhabited by natives. Kavakon had been cultivated by the Forest 8th Company since the 1880s, meaning that the coconut trees that Engelhard craved had already been planted there. I mean, had they not been, I'm sure he would have not bought that plantation. There was also a jetty where he could greet visitors, as well as a large shed where he could store copra as it dried. The only additional building was one Engelhardt built himself, a little wooden hut built according to letters in a European style. And that's all we know about it. We don't know how big it was. It just was a little hut built in a European style. It definitely didn't have electricity or plumbing or AC. No fans, no refrigerator, no stove, no microwave, no pantry full of snacks. Just a little hut with a roof that, you know, kept shit dry when it rained.

Next to the beach, you know, the ocean, jungle, and fucked ton of coconuts. His little hut mainly housed Ingleheart's library. So it's nice he had something to read. Pretty spartan living conditions. Ingleheart himself would spend most of his time running around naked and living exclusively on a diet of fruit, above all coconuts. Since he didn't have to work as the island laborers took care of that, it seems he had plenty of time on his hands. In a letter to a friend on June 17th 1903, he would describe his daily life like this, At 5 30 a.m. my bell calls me. Then it is up. The laborers call in. Their tasks

are allocated and me? I get ready to write." Indeed, he would use his time to set down his philosophy in writing, especially his philosophy about the coconut and the sun. In Engelhardt's way of thinking, the coconut was, as I mentioned, the philosopher's stone, the panacea, which makes man what he once was and what he has to be again, the image of God. Very high praise for a fruity tree nut. Engelhardt maintained that the power of God was to be found in the Sun and by exposing one's body to it and existing on a diet of fruits found growing close to it, man could live in harmony with God. And also, depending on the amount of melanin in your skin, be sunburned as fuck.

He started off on his island as a fruit d'or, but soon after developing some sort of ulcer on his right leg, clearly brought on by a shitty banana or mango, not a coconut, he adopted a coconut mono diet. He blamed other nasty-ass tropical fruits, subpar fruits, devil's fruits for his condition. So we just got a man, a shack, some books, some paper and pens devil's fruits for his condition. So we just got a man, a shack, some books, some paper and pens, a lot of coconuts, what else do you need? Engelhard claimed he did start to feel better after beginning to eat only coconuts, but he was lonely. In a letter written to a friend in Germany in 1903, Engelhard stated that after 13 months alone, without a soul to

confide with, without people around me who understand I am sick of being alone. He desperately invited his friend and family to come stay with him in Kabakon for quote at least a year. Presumably that offer was turned down. Yeah, I bet it reeks of desperation. Dearest Adolf, you must come visit. I have nothing but coconuts for company, but everything else is perfect. The Sun is grand. The weather is It's pretty neat and I never have to do laundry or dishes. So come stay stay for at least a year You have to say for at least a year we can be naked together eating coconuts by the ocean We can do that every day for at least a year and read books and write things There's quite literally nothing else to do, but we'd have we'd have fun for at least a year

Ingo hard did consider leaving Capricorn and give it up on his dream forever but before long his situation would change. His old buddy August Bethman who had been preaching the good work, good word back in Germany, had found two friends that now agreed to join the Son of Norton. In December of 1903 the first coconut disciple arrives on the island. The first coca-ciple, the first the cy-nut. It was Heinrich Alkenz. It's gonna be a lot of Heinrichs in the story. A young man who with his strong build, blonde hair and blue eyes looked like the German archetype that would soon become very popular with a certain political movement in Germany over the next couple decades. He was athletic and well

educated but then after only six weeks on the island, he, well, he died. He overdosed on coconuts. Kind of. He tried to replicate Kellogg's Yogurt Enema Health Regiment, but with a coconut. He ate coconuts while shoving an equal amount of coconut up his ass, and eventually his stomach cocosploded. No, it's unclear what led Heinrich to his doom.

January 27th, 1904, but a German medical officer would speculate that Heinrich had quote, been infected with malaria fever during his short stay, which he naturally did not treat with quinine, probably due to the impact of the sun. Right after his arrival, he went around barefoot and naked, which had a damaging effect on his cerebral membrane. So he got malaria and then ran around naked like a maniac until he had a heat stroke. Once again, August Engelhardt was alone. But after toughening it out some more, like he's fucking Tom Hanks in Castaway, except not actually trapped, he could leave, things began to look up. December 24th, 1904, Engelhardt reports to friends back in Germany that he'd been joined by another adventurer, Max Lutzow, who was kind of a

celebrity back in Germany. To friends Engelhardt bragged about the director of music, piano, and violin, Virtuoso, last in Naples Palermo, Tunis Cairo, who was now sharing Capricorn with him. How delightful! Ought to be grand! It'll be a Peach Melbourne night! I bet he prepared a lavish welcome to Capric Capicon with him. How delightful. It ought to be grand. It'll be a peach Melbourneite. I bet he prepared a lavish welcome to Capicon meal with him. So many fucking coconuts. Coconut salad, but just eat the coconut, of course. Mashed coconut, slightly salted coconut, aka coconut dipped in the ocean, unsalted coconut,

slightly more ripe than a regular coconut coconut. A little bit less ripe coconut. It'd be a real coca-coc-cocacotocopia of coco culinary delights. August gleefully speculated that more people would soon come once he realized that cities were quote rocky graveyards. Okay and that living naked the whole time on an almost exclusive set of fruits and above all the holy coconut was the way to go. Okay all right buddy. So why was this semi-celebrity there with him? In the words of Albert Hoffman, a missionary who knew him, Lutzow was, quote, a musical

genius who in his younger days had already, wherever he performed, earned praise and unbelievable sums of money through his marvelous playing. This was how he was able to indulge in all sorts of excesses. Nothing human was unknown to him. His restless spirit had led him through all the capitals of Europe. In Italy, his body, harmed by his excessive lifestyle, finally broke down, and he was brought to a German hospital where he had to rest for a long time. At this hospital, he got a hold of the Theosophical Writings of Dr. Engelhardt, who was not a doctor, which he ravenously read. In these writings, he thought he had

found what his soul had thirsted for. Once he was on Capicon, together with his son brothers, then he would be able to find music freed from the material world. Okay. The exchange worked out well for Engelhardt, who now had the ideal advocate for the lifestyle of the son of Norden. Max seemed to like it too. After two months, he wrote to a journal in Leipzig, claiming, "'Cabacon has exceeded all my expectations. I can think of no place more suitable than this one for vegetarians. I am absolutely delighted by Cabacon and never had expected to find such a place on this earth which could satisfy my idealistic requirements so perfectly. I cannot think of any better living conditions."

Thanks to this, the son of any better living conditions. Thanks to this, the son of Norden now grew. Everyone went fucking coconut crazy. Okay, maybe not everyone, but definitely like a few dozen people over several years would go coconuts. According to some reports, it drew more than 30 followers at its height, but that may have included visitors who just came by to fucking people watch. Lutzow in Inlehart became something of an

advertising power do now with postcards featuring pictures of them and the phrase, what do you think my dear shall we also settle here? Being circulated back in Germany. Spending more that trust fund cash investing it so wisely. But then in early 1905 Max Lutzow falls seriously ill. Weird. He eventually decides to visit the German Colonial Hospital at Herberto, which lay 22 miles away by sea. But on his way there, the boat of the Methodist mission on which he was traveling got caught in a strong northwesterly storm.

And despite the fact that his Melanesian companions succeeded in bringing the boat to land to safety on the small island of La Mas, Lutzow died there of exhaustion. And I do have to wonder if his exhaustion was brought on by malnutrition. His death gave an ironic confirmation to one letter he'd published in Germany in which he had said, I have the firm belief that everyone who comes here will stay. Yeah, a lot of people will stay there, a lot of people will die. In the months that followed, other members of the Asana Norden started getting cold feet. One of them was Heinrich Conrad, a furrier from Metz who had arrived in July of 1905. He also came down with malaria in November, like the first guy, and when he eventually recovered he decided to hightail it back to Germany in December.

Another was Wilhelm Hein from Berlin who died in January 1906 when his boat capsized. A lot of these guys, too weak to swim, so exhausted from nothing but, you know, all that fruit. Yet another was an Englishman by the name of H.M. Robson from Newcastle. He'd later come back to visit, but each time he'd come back to visit, he would find the island less populated than his previous visit. It was never that populated. Then just when it seemed that the sun anointed and finally sunk to un-combackable lows, more new members arrived. Oh it's a cuckoo comeback! They were led by who else but August Bethman who arrived on the island with his fiancee and a Schwab. The three quickly put their heads

together to figure out how to draw more colonists and decided to found a publishing company called Reformerlag, Engelhardt and Bethmann. Seems like a tough location to run a publishing company from. Bit remote. I'm guessing they were going to base it back in Germany. They also increased their advertising campaign. Stressing that coconut was the only essential means of sustenance and donated copies of their cocavorism literature to school libraries. Oh, those lucky kids. The further Engelhardt's philosophy developed, the more dramatic was his testimony.

He claimed now that the noblest organ of the human body was the brain because it was nearest to the sun. And he denied that such a noble part of the body could possibly receive its strength from the deep and dirty digestive tract. He thinks the brain is powered exclusively by sunlight. Our scalp is just a solar panel that powers our brain. That's the kind of thing that someone would think if they had been, I don't know, living on an island for years. Mostly alone. Running around naked.

Eating only coconuts. How much is he starting to fucking hate the taste of coconuts, by the way? Who could eat the exact same thing for years? He suggested instead that the brain receives its energy from hair roots, which in turn are powered by sunlight. Okay? Does that mean that like bald guys are smarter than everyone else? Right? So much direct mind powering sun fuel feeding their cocodomes. Not sure how that advertising went over but things are somehow still going well. Apparently the son of Norden was becoming kind of well known. The New York

Times actually wrote an article about it in early 1906 that went in part, His plan was to have his sect worship the sun. He held that man was a tropical animal, not intended to live in caves called houses, but to wander as Adam did, with the sun beating upon him all day and the dues of heaven for a mantle at night. Living such a life, he believed that the healing and curative powers of the sun would in time render a man so immune that sickness could be overcome. Morale was up for the followers too. On April 21st 1906, follower August Bethmann wrote this bizarre letter to friends and family back in Germany.

This is bizarre. I feel like I need music for this one. I went to the eternally sunny tropics because I am a friend of light equals warmth equals life. An enemy of night equals cold equals death. Capcom is a place in the sun in the best sense of the term. Our tricolor is. Always gold equals sun. Always blue equals sky and ocean. Always green equals

tropical vegetation. In this euphoric, clearly his fucking mind is breaking down from improper nutrition letter. Bethman expressed no plans for his return and said he had rejected a lot of friendly invitations of like-minded friends from Switzerland, Italy, and Corsica to join them. He also emphasized his point of view that a truly natural life outside the tropics is impossible. It remains patchy and piecemeal, something only in half measure. In another letter sent in the summer of that year, Bethman refuted some claims that the Capricorn settlers lived like Robinson Crusoe, the character from the Daniel Defoe novel.

He wrote... I'm gonna back this up and start it again here. Wellman's Carl, one of the numerous grandchildren of Counselor W, naively remarked, I live like Robinson Crusoe. Carl is not completely wrong. Explaining, I will add, compared with me, Robinson was a demanding young man. A fuss pot. Ooh, he's a fuss pot. He had goats.

Was a parasite to the animal. I reject that. He's not a fuss pot. He planted corn, had to grind it and bake what was ground and so on. As a nut eater, I have no need for the preparation of bread. Robinson held his gun in high regard. In short, I am superior to the famous Robinson with regard to simplicity, food, and clothing.

Later, he rejected the idea that the group was potentially in danger. You are worried about my safety? There is some justification for it, because some explorers of the South Seas liked to scare the ordinary Europeans with reports of cannibalism. Certainly it is true, some years ago two missionaries were eaten, and indeed it occurred on our neighboring island of Karawara.

But the highly cultivated, nervous and trigger-happy white, the so-called pioneer, may finally make himself a mental note. The behavior of the natives is dependent on the behavior of the whites. They have sinned a lot in the past with their barbaric and brutal ways, and they have quite a record. Despite this glass half full, no all the way full, overflowing with joy tone. Actual life at Capricorn was not going great. August Engelhardt himself had become seriously ill by 1906. Of course he has. He's been living either only on coconuts for about three years or you know a little bit of fruit, a different fruit and coconuts for a few months and then

only coconuts. In January, February of 1906 he'd written out a will. I'd say he's not doing good. Which he left with the Imperial District Court at Herberto. Engelhardt stood a little over 5 foot 4 and now weighed 86 pounds. He also had a full body rash, especially not great for a nudist. And the now 30 year old was suffering from a terrible case of scabies. He looked like a dude who'd been stranded on a desert island because he kind of was except, you know, he did it to himself and he could leave. And he actually looked worse than what I just described. is how one follower a man named William bradkey, uh would describe him in a 1906 letter

Dear mr. K Departed from sydney on the 19th of march last year and arrived on the 27th of march on capicon inglehart looked bad emaciated with large leg wounds, gout in his fingers, rash on his arms and buttocks, fever attacks in a three-day cycle. He made little impression of a healthy cocovore, bursting with energy. I became the same after staying four weeks, caused by the many mosquitoes and sandfly

bites and partially due to all the nut-eating. Wounds on legs and ankles soon prevented me from walking and put me off Capocon. Apart from that, the plantation is terribly neglected because Engelhardt himself is not able to look after it, as he is unable to walk. And thus the twenty blacks who are his workers muddle through as they think and most of the time do nothing. The young coconut palms are overgrown with climbing plants and already half dead. The two meter high grass also makes sure that the coconut palms don't get enough light

and food. Otherwise, Cabacan is a wonderful island, and one could create here a paradisical home, if it weren't for the malaria fever. No, New Guinea is in every respect a hopeless land, because the malaria fever spares no one and weakens with every attack. No form of lifestyle protects against it, and I would be glad if I could escape this land without contracting black water fever which is also present here. After staying six weeks on Kabakan, I applied for a job among the firms at Herbito and found employment with EE Forsaith, Queen Emma, and Ralluum, which, although modest, will free

me from Kabakan. My favorite part of that letter is when he tries to act like it's not that bad, and then in the letter Just quickly changes his mind. It's a wonderful island. I mean, there's yeah, there's malaria. I mean, but overall it's you know, it's Who am I kidding? It's it's a shithole. It's Hell on Earth. I'm dying. We're all dying here to hopeless land This letter shows how bad things were not only for Engelhardt But just about every German settler in Comic Con who could expect recurring bouts of malaria and fever, and that was just for starters. At the hospital in Herbetto, doctors oversaw Engelhardt's recovery.

Dempfulf, a German doctor at the hospital in Herbetto, judged Engelhardt to be a paranoid wreck. As soon as he was able, Engelhardt did return to Capocon, not in grave danger, but still, to some extent, pretty weak. Rangleheart did return to Capucon, not in grave danger, but still to some extent pretty weak. That didn't stop him from proclaiming that through the pus that he had shed from his body, while he was sick, the last pathological substances had been purged, which until then had prevented him from reaching his aesthetic ideal. No, it wasn't his new diet that made him sick. It was his old diet.

All the shit he'd eaten back in Jericho, all that fucking sausage, all that bratwurst. That was it. But fear not, for all that previous poison had been purged from his system. Hooray! Only coconuts going forth. By this time the other August, Englehart's old friend August Bethman, who had arrived the previous summer, he's questioned whether or not Capocon really is the promised paradise. By June of 1906, Bethman expresses his official desire to leave New Guinea. He only lasted a year. He made arrangements to return to Europe with colonial officers, but he wouldn't make it back to Europe because he would die. But not of illness or from an accident, historians generally agree that his death is the most mysterious of those who died in Engelhardt's paradise. Was he a cuckoo murdered? Cuckoo killed?

What we know is that Engelhardt returned to Capcom expecting everyone to welcome him with open arms and get back to the business of living naturally, but that Bethman was not about that lifestyle anymore. They had a big argument, which also could have included Bethman's partner and a Schwab, and then somehow Bethman was just dead. Historian Dieter Klein concludes suicide, manslaughter, even murder cannot be ruled out. After Bethman's death, Anna Schwab leaves Capocon for Germany, where she then joins up with an anarchist collective.

That's perfect. She sounds very stable. First, a coconut and sun-based lifestyle. Next, of course, is anarchy. Her published criticism of Engelhardt's group led the governor of the island to order a temporary halt to new immigrants. According to records, a second female member of the Son of Norden left shortly after her, becoming a nanny for the governor of New Guinea, Dr. Albert Hall instead.

Around this time, another person recorded as C. Weber, director of music, died shortly after his arrival to Capocon. Soon, only Engleheart himself remained, so he's alone again. Now alone with his coconuts. He's back to where it all started, but probably with skin that looked more like the inside of an old leather baseball catcher's mitt instead of human skin. He was now back to where it all started, except he was now an insane sun-worshipping skeleton who shit only undigested coconuts and blood. Still he would not give up. Why quit when you're ahead? Or way behind?

Once again he increased his advertising campaigns which now sounded more deranged than ever. Will another hundred attempts fail? They are no proof against the tropics. At most they are proof for the irrational lifestyle or organizational ability of the colonists. Capicon is the first colony of the Asana Norden, an equatorial settlers association I called into being which has the double purpose one to offer its members the best possible living conditions to breed them into big noble healthy holistic humans says the 86 year old pound dude or 86 pound dude. Two, 86 pound dude. Two. Two found in the international tropical colonial empire of fruit eaters. By putting a fine mesh net of colonies of pure naked fruit eating life

around the equator. That's right. Despite literally everything going badly. Engelhardt has his eye on a kind of fruit based global domination. I mean, sure, he can't currently get a single person to live with him on his cocoa compound. Sure, a lot of former colonists, their followers have died. But why let that stop you from doubling down on a terrible plan? He sounded like the weakest, saddest little supervillain ever. All five foot, four inches, 86 pounds, sun-baked, coconut-fueled pounds of him. I picture him pacing back and forth on the beach along a line of coconut, you know, base scarecrow dummies dressed up to look like his followers.

This is only the beginning! The world will be ours, my Coco Children! First, I'm going to sit down because I'm a little bit dizzy again. But then, when I'm feeling good, then I'm going to actually, well, I'm probably going to lay I'm gonna actually, well I'm probably gonna lay down. Because my vision keeps blacking out. But after that, well I'll probably head to the big island for some medical treatment. Try and find out why my skin keeps cracking open and bleeding. Why my hair falls out and clumps. But after that, I'll eat some more coconut.

And hope it doesn't break my teeth again. But then, world domination! Uh, back to his mad ad campaign now. I call on all fructivores and friends of the natural lifestyle. I call on the weakest people on the planet to contribute to the construction of the Palm Temple of fructivorism, which it intends to erect and to take part of the foundation of the fructivorous world empire. Bravely ahead, gaze turned to the sun, the source of life.

Terms of admission to the Extritorial Settlers Association are one, references from two trustworthy persons to a one-off payment. Penalists only have to pay in relation to their economic circumstances, the poor have to pay in relation to their economic circumstances. The poor have to pay nothing. Soon he will have his fructivorous whatever made-up word world empire. He'll be the Coco King and the mango megalomaniac. How the fuck would he check on references, by the way, from his remote coconut island with nothing but a shed and a hut on it? And why did he ask for money? I mentioned this at the beginning of the episode. You might think he was trying to turn this into a grift,

but that was not the case. The fact of the matter was that so many people had died, or needed medical assistance, or needed help getting back to Germany, that colonial officials now repealed the temporary ban of people going to his Capocon Island, but were now requiring a 700 to 1400 mark deposit for somebody who wanted to go in case they had to pay to fucking get them out

of there or get them you know fixed back up to health. This was spurred on by a German-Russian member of his weird naked coconut Sun Club named Harald von Denfer who had to work for the German Colonial Administration to pay for his travel costs back to Russia after he got sick of living on Engelhardt Island. Meanwhile Engelhardt is looking worse than ever. Local officials are concerned. One officer described him at this time as quote, a ruin, thin as a skeleton and covered in abscesses.

My God. Dude, give it up. I will be the Coco King, all part of my transformation. I just lost vision of one and I. Even worse is coconut plantation is now failing. In May of 1907 it was described as being seriously dilapidated and neglected to German authorities. Still, fucking somehow, this guy hangs on, living alone in his coconut hell for over two more years. In the summer of 1909, now 33-year-old August Coconut Skeletor Engelhardt pulls the plug

on the sauna in Orden, his coco nightmare. But he's not done. Oh, God, no, he's so close. He decides to use his new time not being a pseudo-coco cult leader to write more about his theories, as well as do some botanical research and try to revitalize his ruined plantation. To do so, he employs Wilhelm Bradtke as manager of his plantation. Bradtke had been a member of the Son of Norden back in 1903 before he left to work for the Forsaith plantation in 1904.

But he's now back, baby! Oh, he's got the band back together. Cocoa Dream is still alive! There's more coconut to be eaten, more blood to be shat. Maybe. Engelhardt's not doing so well right now. Area Christian Missionary Heinrich Fellman would write, on our return trip to Ulu, we called on Kavakon to pay the coconut apostle Engelhardt a visit, who eeked out a miserable existence. He seemed to be fraught with his rheumatism and had to lie for months on end. Now he walks again, but only with a stick.

Willie Bradke, his co-owner, not of his theories, but only in business relations. He doesn't say anything about him. I love that this missionary referred to him as the Coconut Apostle. Colonial doctors will now describe him as both a skeleton and a, quote, ruin of abscesses. And he's photographed with large white bandages all over his legs how the fuck is he still alive because coconuts are miraculous he's a cocoa miracle hailed coconuts abandon your

life head to a tropical beach in the so-called miserable existence Engelhardt continues to publish a quarterly newsletter somehow called Sun tropics and coconuts ah I fucking love it. Which he sends to subscribers in the colony and in Germany for two marks per year. And I guess I'm guessing he was doing that you know we don't have a lot of source material but I guess he sent it to his brother who you know over in Germany would copy it and then deal with subscriptions or maybe there was a you know a printing press not too far away in New Guinea. These newsletters unintentionally will make him a strange tourist attraction.

As the new decade dawns, a number of tourists will begin to visit the island from nearby mission station at Ulu and wanted to see and photograph the last remaining member of the Sana Norden. It was, according to one source, a must for everybody to go to Capocon and be photographed with the only remaining cocovore. He coconutted himself into becoming a sideshow freak. One tourist wrote in a letter to his family, There was much talk about a planter, E, living on a small island who dressed himself like the natives, solemnly lived on a diet of coconuts and recognized the sun, the heater of the universe, as the spitting image of God. Some thought this man was eccentric.

Others thought he was a great philosopher. Many believed that this nature apostle used to get drunk from time to time and that his lifestyle was aimed at making himself interesting. Since this case began to interest me, I decided one day, accompanied by some other gentleman, to pay this man a visit on his island. The man lived in a small wooden hut of European style but was dressed like a native. A red lava lava around his hips that was all he wore. The skin constantly exposed to air and sun was as brown as one of the Kanakas and his local tribal members and his face was framed by a venerable beard. Striking was his leanness which

this eloquent testimony which was eloquent testimony I'm guessing to his ecstatic lifestyle after I took a photo of this interesting man we departed and again I was enriched by some ideas and impressions yeah Engelhardt would let the tourists take photos with him he'd even sign postcards for them he's like a fucking really sad celebrity I've seen some of these photos and he looks as you might imagine, you know, absolutely insane and near death. Like try and picture how he looks if you don't want to look it up. Take the most mentally ill, emaciated, chronically homeless person you've ever seen in your whole life. Some guy who legitimately looks like he could be 25 or 75.

Like, you know, you could fucking flip a quarter. Maybe 25, maybe 75. Put that dude on a tropical island, scraggly beard, wild eyes, super duper tan skin, like impossibly tan skin for a white dude. And that was August Engelhart, with a bunch of sores on his skin. And he can barely walk. Despite being a sideshow attraction, he remains undeterred somehow in his views, and he continues to argue for a lifestyle. Devoted to coconuts. In one postcard, he wrote, Cocovorism has become a fact. We are making big steps forward. Are you? On Cuba, someone has been living on coconuts for over a year now, enjoys brilliant health. You see? You see? Do you see? Meanwhile, he's using the remaining half of his fucking pointing

finger as a pen to write this with. The top half snapped off due to severe malnutrition. He's been mixing blood with coconut milk to make the ink. Do you see? Do you see? My God is the Sun! His nectar is the coconut! He's yelling all that while staring at a sun-bleached collection of skulls of his former followers. Ranged on his desk, looking to watch him work. Do you see? I'm the Coco King! And they called me mad! They called me mad, my children. I'm the Coco King. However, by December of 1912, Engelhardt, his spirits are low again. He's now thinking he might be dying again.

He sends out his last will and testament to his relatives in Nuremberg, leaving them the household goods he had left behind before he took off on his cocoa venture. Though he held on to his ideals, the reality of his failing body had forced him to reckon with the fact that he'd never make big money as a coconut apostle and true coconut farmer. Then in early 1914, he promised to his subscribers that he would give up his coconut leaves, aka what he's now calling his newsletter, soon. The last member of the Son of Norton to leave was probably a man named Schneider, there's a few people coming and going, who left to seek employment via a local Methodist church

on New Britain as a tutor. William Bradkey still worked on the island and he'd employed two men named Mr. Rudd and Mr. Staudenmeier to help manage the plantation and sell copra for Engelhardt and company. But then by August of 1914, World War I has broken out and just six weeks after the outbreak of war, at the end of July, the colony of New Guinea occupied by Australian troops for after a brief struggle. Businesses, postal and radio communications with Germany come to a halt. In 1915 August Engelhardt finds himself as an inmate in an internment camp in Raboul, a port town on New Britain. I'm guessing he was perhaps the only prisoner who'd actually put on weight as a POW, right? Finally had to eat

some food that was not coconuts. Fellow internee and missionary Ernest Botcher wrote that Engelhardt had brought along a box of books which he placed at everyone's disposal, which probably included his own books on coca-forism. Eventually sources don't know when Engelhardt was allowed to return to Capocon. Joined by William Bradkey, Engelhardt now started on a new project of interviewing natives about medicinal plants, which he then depicted in watercolors and even sent some to Germany in the hopes that he would help be able to develop new drugs.

Despite seeming to now want a new career, or I guess his old career as a pharmacist slash chemist, Engelhardt continued to be a tourist attraction, even to members of the Australian military. He'd become the focus of an article published in the Raboul Report, the official local paper run by the Military Administration, the article published on August 1, 1917 described life on Kabakan. The island is almost completely planted with coconuts, which having just recovered from an attack of beetles, are now looking well and promise fine crops in the near future. A considerable amount of money has been spent in improvements by the owners of the island, Engelhardt and Bradke, during the last 10 or 12 years.

The island is eminently suitable for the use it is being put to and the prospect for its future are quite good, but both of the owners are in bad health, of course they are, and appear to have become tired of being planters and desire to devote their time to scientific study. With that object in view they are arranging to lease their property for a long time. Mr. Engerhart is a well-known idealist, but so far as can be ascertained, he has not succeeded in obtaining any disciples in his colony. The principal outward and visible forms of his idealism are not such as to appeal to

practical human beings of this age. Catch that, his idea is not practical to modern beings. That was probably the result of an argument between Captain Jones, an Australian military administrator who visited sometime earlier that summer, and Engelhardt. According to records, the two argued about coconuts and Engelhardt claimed that all one needed to live was four to five coconut trees. The Fleshy Center would provide food, the milk would provide drink, and the husk would provide shelter. Some remember Captain Jones departing almost convinced.

He reportedly asked his men, is it Engelhardt who is mad or is it we? Could the world do without living examples and self-sacrifice, even if their ideals be wrong? And would we not all fall asleep if it were not for a sprinkling of extremists? Interesting last thoughts, last thought there. Could we not all fall asleep if it were not for a sprinkling of extremists? Interesting last thought there. I mean, extremists can be very annoying, often dangerous, but they are entertaining. They do make us think in different ways. They do make the world a more exciting, interesting place to live.

That group of officers would be among the last to see Engelhardt alive. On May 6, 1919, August Engelhardt dies at the age of 43. He did live, it seems, on almost only coconuts outside of when he was either in prison or in a hospital for almost 17 years. He didn't live well. He was sick, starving, covered in sores, you know, most of the time. But he lived. He existed for almost 17 years. Just four days later, he'd be followed by William Radke. They were both killed by coconuts falling out of trees and splitting their fragile malnourished skulls open. Not really, but coconuts do kill people by falling out of

trees. Way more than I ever expected. According to the Australian Institute of Marine Science, around 150 people a year are killed by falling coconuts. Maybe they're not God's nectar, but Satan's death rocks. I don't know. It's unclear what killed August or Wilhelm, where their remains lay today. They probably caught some, you know, flu or something. They were fucking super weak from their terrible diet, probably buried on the island somewhere. Engelhardt had instructed his writings to be sent to his old friend Emil Berenwenger. But because of the war, only a tiny fraction of Engelhardt's writings,

whatever reached their intended recipient, ownership of Cava Khan would pass to a man named Wilhelm Miro, who would then sell it to his Australian wife, Minnie. Weird that he was selling land to his wife, but I'm sure there's more of a story there. Both of them would start looking for the missing writings but never find them. In one last cruel twist, the search for his writings wasn't actually motivated by anything philosophical, he believed, not by any of his son and coconut bullshit, but because he'd actually done some worthwhile work cataloging and experimenting with plants. He probably would have made a great pharmacist or a great botanist.

It doesn't seem like he was a stupid guy just fucking way too into coconuts. Very fixated. And now let's get out of here and recap. August Engelhardt and his son of Norden. What a strange story. So not like the cult stories we normally tell. And I know it's not really a cult story. I had a hard time thinking of what to call this episode. It's hard to categorize it It's more like a story about what was almost a cult if August coconut experiment would have been more successful You know like what if hundreds would have flocked to his island worshipping the Sun and the nude feasting on coconuts What if they would have gotten healthier stronger lived longer doing that? Had it worked out like August wanted I think there's a decent he would have ended up as some kind of weird Sun God cult leader. And even though he did not run a

cult, he did still hurt people with his crazy dangerous ideas he preached in ways like cult leaders do. You know, people died, people ended up based on his claims of, you know, figuring out how to truly live with God, ruining their lives, getting stuck halfway around the world from their home. August Bethman maybe even murdered, we'll never know. At the very least what August preached was delusional and dangerous madness. I mean think about it like modern terms. What if today some guy was advertised on Facebook or through Google Ads whatever telling people that they just came to his island. You know if they just came to his commune and pranced around naked and ate only coconuts and worshipped and

bathed in the sun. They'd feel better than they've ever felt before. They'd live an ideal life. What would we think of that guy? Certainly that he's a wackadoodle, a dangerous wackadoodle, probably a scammer of some sort. What's the con? You know, akin to someone promoting something like drinking only celery juice will cure stuff like cancer. Remember that fad? It's faded in popularity over the past few years but it's still around. The self-proclaimed father of the celery juice trend, dumb fuck grifter Anthony William aka the medical medium, a man with of course no

medical or scientific certifications, still claims that he communicates with some spirit of compassion entity to get extraordinarily accurate health information that's often far ahead of its time. Totally. He was promoted on Gwyneth Paltrow's wackadoodle website Goop, where he said, Celery juice is a miracle juice. It's one of the greatest healing tonics of all time. I've seen thousands of people who suffer from chronic and mysterious illnesses restore their health by drinking 16 ounces of celery juice daily on an empty stomach.

No, you didn't, you liar. Get the fuck out of here. So many doctors have spoken out against his bullshit claims. Coconuts were Engelhardt's celery juice. No medical study has ever shown that either celery juice or coconuts have miraculous healing powers. And they're good for you. Most fruits and vegetables are good for you, but not miraculous,

not a cure-all. Just because Engelhardt was from the past, does that make him any better than people today, like Anthony William, who claimed they can cure cancer or autism or whatever with snake oil and magical thinking? At least with Engelhardt, I will say that he did, to his detriment, walk the walk. I mean, he did live that coconut life. As opposed to him being a blatant con man, I feel like he actually did convince himself that coconuts really were some sort of magic pill. Also, was Engelhardt

trying to be like an early 20th century influencer? It's kind of funny to think of him that way. I mean, I'm sure he would have had an interesting following on Instagram if he was alive today. In a way, it's comforting to know that snake oil salesmen, people selling bullshit, whether they believe it or not, are nothing new. Con artists, influencers, whatever you want to call them, they've been around for a long time in every corner of the world. Which I guess is also kind of a depressing thought. Speaks to how they will likely always be with us. What a weird dude.

Born in Nuremberg in 1875, August Engelhardt was among a counterculture movement of disaffected youngsters drawn to the back to nature Liebensform movement sweeping through Germany and Switzerland at the time. Its proponents yearned after some sort of unspoiled Eden, where people ate vegetables and raw food and could let their dicks and tits flop around in the sun, where they could literally lie in the mud and let sweet

Mother Earth cure them of all that ailed them. Oh, it'd be so nice if it was that easy. But there are no miracle cures. All good things in moderation, including health fats. Coconuts are great for you as part of a healthy diet, not as all of your diet. Going to the gym, lifting weights, hitting the elliptical machine, et cetera, that's good for you, but if you lift it all day every day, if you just fucking live at the gym,

working out 12, 14 hours a day, you're not gonna be stronger and healthier. You're gonna be an emaciated, broken down mess of a human. Go get your mud baths, run around naked in the sun, fuck yeah, nothing wrong with that. But also, you know, maybe sometimes go inside, clean yourself up, maybe sleep on a nice mattress instead of a pile of dirt. You know, maybe do some hydrotherapy while you're rinsing off in the shower. Then maybe put on some clothes and go to work you fucking bum! You know what I mean?

Balance. Have some balance. Don't work all the time, says the workaholic. And don't flop your dick around in the sun all day. No, don't over toast your nuts. Don't work all the time, says the workaholic. And don't flop your dick around in the sun all day. No, don't over toast your nuts. Don't leave those tits in the sun oven too long. End up with a pair of leather water balloons. Don't be an August Engelhardt. From 1902 to 1919 Engelhardt lived on a beautiful South Pacific island eating for most of his time there literally nothing but coconuts, which he believed was the panacea of all of for all of mankind's woes. Panacea, little used but very cool word, means a remedy for all disease or ills, an answer or solution for all problems or difficulties. I'm not sure there is such a thing as a true panacea. If there is,

certainly not a coconut monodiet. You can't live on only one kind of food, not well at least. coconut monodiet. You can't live on only one kind of food. Not well, at least. August Engelhardt helped prove that. That dude had no balance in his life. He went all in, in the weirdest of ways. Despite his best efforts, for the last many years of his life, the lonely cocavore was reduced to a mentally ill, rheumatic, severely malnourished, wild-eyed saccabones with rashes covering most of his body and ulcers all over his legs, who was often bedridden for months at a time. Then he died as a coconut-filled walking skeleton at the age of 43. Do not be a coconut.

Vary it up, you know. Even if he could live longer and be healthier, eating only one kind of food. What kind of sad boring life would that be? Time now for our takeaways. Time Shuck Top 5 Takeaways. Time now for our takeaways. Number one, the Son of Norton was a short-lived, not cult, maybe weird lifestyle group, commune, that existed on the little island of Cabocon in German New Guinea in the early years of the 1900s. No more than 30 followers ever lived there at once and mostly it seems there wasn't nearly that many. Often it was just August Engelhardt. August and his fellow Cocoa Apostles practiced the worship of the Almighty Coconut.

That's such a weird truth sentence. The fruit of God, the literal representation of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, and also the Sun and the water and nudism and hopefully they also did a decent amount of fucking on their tropical island. If they would have thrown in some berries and fish into their diet they could have had some sort of paradise for a while. Number two, Engelhardt wasn't the only guy in the late 19th and early 20th centuries with some interesting ideas about how to live the ideal healthy life. He was good friends with the Juiced brothers who ran a sanatorium called Jungborn where all sorts of things including gushes were common practice, vaginal massage,

sleeping on the ground, bathing naked, you name it. Hail, Lucifina. And those ideas, very tame compared to America's serial baron and madman, John Harvey Kellogg, who literally advocated putting your cock in a cage and removing your clit to get you to stop masturbating and all other kinds of crazy shit. Number three, Germany hoped to become an empire to rival Great Britain's, but that never happened. They did gain around 20 colonial possessions, but that was nothing compared to the global influence of the British Empire. World War One, the reparations it had to make, the colonies it had to give up, put a quick stop to that.

Germany's fall also helped put a stop to August Engelhardt's dreams of the Son of Norden. After being put in an internment camp by Australian soldiers, he seems to have lost his lust for the cocoa life. Germany's fall also helped put a stop to August Engelhardt's dreams of the son of Norden. After being put in an internment camp by Australian soldiers, he seems to have lost his lust for the cocoa life, and then catalogued some plants mostly until his death in 1919. Number four, knipe.com. Still around. Those parasitical health fad grifters who've just never completely gone away. Father Sebastian Neepe's dumb shit health treatments, some of which you can literally do yourself with nothing more

than a garden hose at home, still being sold to the desperate and gullible today. Number five, new info. There are still people today trying to live that cocoa life or at least trying to make you think they do. A former police constable Bakarishan Pillai, a 63-year-old resident of Chandra, India, has been claiming he's eaten only coconuts for 24 years as a means for combating chronic acid reflux. But when journalists dug into the claim last year, they found that Mr. Coconut does sometimes break his diet. One day a week, he consumes raw or boiled vegetables that he grows on his farm, which is why I'm guessing he is not covered in skin lesions and is just very thin instead of a living skeleton

Don't believe the hype. No one's living a healthy life of only coconuts or off any other single type of food August Engelhardt and the Coconut Cult has been sucked. Utter madness. Thank you to the Bad Magic Productions team for help in making Time Sucks such as Queen of Bad Magic, Lindsay Cummins, running operations around here, Logan Keith, recording this episode, designing merch for the store at badmagicproductions.com. Thank you to Sophie Evans, once again doing a great job, providing initial research. Thanks also to the all-seen eyes moderating the Cult of the Curious private Facebook page, the Mod Squad making sure Discord keeps running smooth, and everyone over on the Time Suck Subreddit and Bad Magic Subreddits. And now for this week's updates.

Updates! Get your Time Sucker updates! We've got some fun ones today. Kicking off this week's... they're always good, but I especially like this collection. Kicking off this week's updates with a quick comment about how strange the concept of race can be in reference to the recent Joseph Paul Franklin suck, white Latino meat sack Anthony Cabezon wrote in with the subject line of episode 396. Just a quick comment about race. Not a racist ramble though, I promise. Hi Dan. In the most recent episode, you asked the questions, what even is race and what does white even mean?

These two questions come up for me every time I have to disclose my race on a government document. In your episode, you also mentioned people who might have tan skin at some point, such as Chileans. My dad is a Chilean immigrant and I'm a first generation Chilean American, we're both extraordinarily pale. In fact, most of my Chilean family is fairly pale, which is not uncommon for the part of Chile they come from.

Whenever I fill out a government document, I always get stuck between two choices they offer in regards to my race. Those are options, those are the following options, Latino slash Hispanic or white, not Latino Hispanic. Those are verbatim the options I'm given. They make it very clear that white can't be Latino Latino, Hispanic or white, not Latino Hispanic. Those are verbatim the options I'm given. They make it very clear that white can't be Latino or Hispanic.

What the fuck am I supposed to select? I literally reflect the sun with my skin, but I'm ethnically Hispanic. I've called government agencies before and asked what I should do in this situation. Most of the time they say to just pick one of the options, but in some circumstances they send an additional document to fill specifically for white Hispanic people. It is truly weird, but I oftentimes have to ask myself, what the fuck even is my race when in those situations? Anyway, that's the email, no sign off,

some things just end abruptly. Anthony, Anthony, I like your ending. Yeah, your race is meat sack. On the next form, cross out both options. Write, I am meat sack, you know, where one choice would be, and then write, hail Nimrod, and the other. No, yeah, it's ridiculous. I mean, I can see that they want you

to check the Latino Hispanic box because you come from a nation deemed Latino, but it is silly. You know, like what if you were full-blooded German, but your dad and yourself, both born in Chile, and you're still supposed to write Latino? Like, are you still supposed to write that? I mean, it is silly really,

and it's just gonna get sillier as time goes on because of all the people of different pigments and races, whatever, from all over the world, having more and more kids together. Next, another Richard Bird message. Oh, we've gotten so many that continue to pour in. Meat sack sucker, Jacob, did get got. He wrote in with the subject line of,

betrayal of the ages. What is up, Dan, you motherfucker? I just got done with Lady Suck, and I'm horrified by this betrayal. Let's back up a bit. First off, I'm a big fan, started listing you back in episode four or five of Scared to Death. Then I've slowly been catching up on Time Suck,

and I have to say three out of five stars wouldn't change a thing. Now on to the betrayal I never saw coming or releasing. You get it. First off I truly enjoyed the episode even though I know none of this is true but it was still an amazing story. So amazing in fact that as I listened to the episode and you were telling these quote facts I was relaying them to a few co-workers. I would tell them about how this creep of a dude would stand over his sister and would come on her hair and would steal one of her hairbrushes to put up

his ass and watch a neighbor lady from a tree. My co-workers would be surprised to hear about someone doing something that absurd. But when he got to the part with his last victim and she absolutely beat the shit out of him, now I was getting so hyped up on my forklift, listening to it like it was the last play of the Super Bowl, I was yelling stuff like, kick his ass, hit him in the nuts again. I was so excited for this woman who I had never met solely because she was whooping this ass, whooping the ass of a creep. I paused the episode, ran to the co-workers I was talking to about the episode to tell them about the epic conclusion of him getting the shit kicked out of him. How I wish a lot of time sucks would go to be honest. I was so overjoyed for this woman and happy that dick got his dick kicked.

It was poetic justice. Then we get to the top five takeaways and here's where the seeds of your lies start to take root and show their true colors. I have been hoodwinked made out to be a fool among my coworkers. I'm ashamed that I was fooled too easily. Either way, I'm in the cult. No, you're trying to escape now. If you end up reading this on air, could you please give a shout out to my friend Rachel?

I got her a time cycle almost a year ago now and she loves your podcast as much as I do. Thanks for everything you do. Everyone else at Bad Magic does. Y'all bring a lot of joy and lies to all of our lives and y'all are truly going to leave this world a much better place than what it was when y'all got here. Sincerely, your dummy, Jake, PS, wake up. There's a gas leak. Jake I love the emotional roller coaster you went on you know went up for a ride on that day so good. I hope you also had a laugh with those co-workers later and I wish more time sucks yeah also would end with some creep getting a beat down. I hate that

that almost never happens. And hello Rachel I hope you had fun with Dick Turd as well. And yeah one of my favorite moments from Is We Dumb definitely was, like up there's a gas leak. Now with the subject line of all hail Master Dan, riders of Lusophina's bicycle, I am a Mormon. Mormon meat sack, R, writes in, she didn't ask to remain anonymous but based on just listing R as a sign off, I'm going to air on the side of caution. My God. Hey, Master Sucker, I hope I got your attention this time.

I have something to say about your Mormon Manson suck last week. You probably deduced with your enormous brain cells I'm an LDS member. I always find it interesting whenever there is an episode that touches on my beliefs. And listen, I hear all that weird stuff like how black people were cursed for being wicked and how young adults like myself tend to get married too fast and usually have no idea how to have sex. Only one of those is true lol. When you mentioned blood sacrament I was confused. I didn't doubt it but I find it ironic that my church doesn't delve into its faults yet tends to be a bit sheltered and let me wonder

if anyone believed black people were wicked laminites. I have the confidence to believe that any church organization slash belief in existence has committed atrocities and has been addressed in that have been addressed in some way. In Southern Utah, there was a massacre the early pioneers committed against traveling immigrants. The church at the time did apologize. There was a massive misunderstanding over a guy who was really hateful and kind of racist. And the children of in the children of thunder cult in California, that sent me into a freaking tizzy, blew my mind that screaming therapy was endorsed and real. My point is, unless I looked it up, I and nobody else would know the darker parts of religion. I find it really stupid that people kill quote in the name of God. I guess it makes them

feel like a God. I have every reason to decide not to attend my church, but it's sort of like my community. Not all wards are great, but not all are horrible. I have the best quote that I live by, hate the belief, love the believer. I'm not here to defend or glorify my choice of religion. I wanted to give an insight about my experience in it. I grew up in it. My feelings have always been mixed. I like to keep my mind open even if I never leave.

I'm fascinated by others and frown on ones that refuse to step out once in a while and breathe some different air. I love listening to your podcast. I've learned so much about my own religion that I've lived my whole life in it. And I have lived my whole life in it. I know it sounds culty, but most people love God. There's a lot of good people, even if some are not. I'll be honest, it's pretty hard to get excommunicated.

You can choose to leave or come back, kind of like a book you forgot you had. The church has touched on current events and teachings versus decades ago. The church, like so many Christian ones, adapts and changes and they have done a very good job being more or less transparent to followers. If I can add to this already incredibly long email, could you give a shout out to Jerry5Bucks? He's my brother-in-law and introduced me to Time Suck almost 10 years ago. Or how many years it's been since you were recording Richard Ramirez in a hotel room. You're the best. Screw you for making up all that dick turd shit. Two days wasted listening to your bullshit. Actually, I wrote BS. Thanks again. I hope this reaches you. R.

R, thank you for a lovely email. I like your perspective on your religion. And you know what? You're right. No organization, just like no single person, is without faults. We all make mistakes. All of our beliefs change over time. The same is true for big institutions, corporations, governments, religions. And I don't doubt for a second that a lot of good comes out of a lot of churches. There's a lot of good people in them. I love that, hate the belief, love the believer. And I don't even hate all of the belief, just the parts that hurt people. But there's a lot of other parts as well that people take a lot of solace and find a lot of comfort in.

I wish that more people of faith could be a lot more like you. You seem like, I wish more people in general. You seem like a good one, a great one, Art. Yeah, I'm impressed that you can walk in both worlds and appreciate both. I hope you keep enjoying your faith and being sincere and also this silly little cult of ours here. Hail Nimrod. And now one more from someone who really related to the Mormon Manson episode. SuperSac Ezra writes in with the subject line of

I freaking grew up as a polygamous kid. Gosh dang. This is an amazing message. What's up Suckmaster Supreme? I've been waiting for you to suck Ervel LeBaron since I started listening to you. Such a good suck. It sucked as good as I hoped it would. A buddy of mine turned me on to your podcast about four or five months ago. And the very first podcast I listened to was the Lori Vallow Chad Daybell Suck.

I've been hooked ever since. I listen to you about two, three hours a day while I commute to and from work catching up on back episodes. I quickly got all the Mormon sucks out of the way first before I dove into the other ones. And I must say damn I mean dang you're spot-on with your accuracy of your research when it comes to Mormonism as someone who grew up in a polygamous Community and studied my way out this suck hit especially close to home for me

I grew up in a little town located about 40 miles south of Missoula, Montana called Pinesdale Man, that's not very far from where I am and I'm not familiar with Pinesdale. It was founded by Rulon Allred, but I didn't look it up. It was founded by Rulon Allred from the AUB group. Yes, the same poor bastard that Ervil LeBaron ordered to be blood-atoned. Growing up, I heard stories of how almost godlike Rulon Allred was, believing he was a level five light worker because he saw and touched Jesus in the flesh. Look up Rulon Allred testimony on YouTube. My dad's first wife is Rulon's daughter, making her a level three light worker or in my mom's

eyes a level three dark zombie. Some of my brothers are Rulon's grandchildren. Kind of had that rubbed in my face my whole life, but most of them are pretty good between level one and two lightworkers. Except for one brother. You know that shitty Sister Wives show. My brother was Robin's first husband. That makes him a level one dark zombie. She freaked him up. Wow. So I grew up a member of AUB and was fully in.

Up until about four and a half years ago. That's fucking wild. While I was in AUB I was a good boy. Well, good-ish. I got married and made covenants in the Lord's house or their wannabe temple where my wife and I had garments ceremoniously placed upon us and we were given new names, taught some pretty cool new handshakes. Then we made a promise to God, or maybe just a couple creepy old men, that we would live in polygamy and build up our bicycle collection. My wife cried that day and almost

every day since about how uncomfortable the garments were. She wasn't too excited about polygamy either. But the garments we had to wear were a one-piece suit that were supposed to fully cover our bodies except for our hands, feet, head, and neck. Not a very sexy feeling if you're a woman. Lucifina not happy at all. I mean come on, also kind of hard to ride a bike when there's excess temple lingerie getting caught in the sprocket when you're trying to pedal gosh dang almost wrecked a couple times for heck's sake Anyway almost about five years ago. I did a deep dive into my own religion and holy shit You know when there's a question you can't find an answer to so you put the question on your shelf So it doesn't drive you fucking crazy. Well, I did that for years

Stuff like Joseph Smith's polygamy polyandry first vision Book of Mormon Stuff like Joseph Smith's polygamy, polyandry, First Vision, Book of Mormon, historicity, Book of Abraham, 1886 Revelation, Mountain Meadows Massacre, etc. One day I decided to dust off those old questions and tackle them head on and my proverbial shelf came crashing down. I questioned everything. I studied hard for six months straight. I mean every day. A couple hours a day for six months.

It was the loneliest, scariest, most confusing year of my life. I was so brainwashed and indoctrinated that even though I had the facts in front of me, I was afraid to believe for fear of apostatizing and becoming a son of perdition. For six months, I had to think past the fear and reason with the facts. Leaving a religion is hard, especially a fundamentalist religion where you're required to give yourself fully to it. I had no one to talk to to help me through leaving. For a while I had to fake it to my fellow cult members that I was questioning anything. After a while it was a dead giveaway. Every day! I was a goner. I love that you wrote cube music there. I went from a level 2 or 3 light worker to a level 5 zombie demon, son of perdition,

not getting any more new bikes in my future apostate. I kept on slipping down that slippery slope and left all religion altogether. I don't really believe in anything besides being honest and being kind to one another. But I do like hearing about people's psychedelic trips. Maybe there is something more. I don't know. I got out of AUB with my wife and family intact. Hail, Nermod. Yes, that is beautiful. I no longer have pressure or guilt hanging over my head to fulfill obligations or promises to build

up my bicycle collection. That's fucking crazy. I'm liberated and it truly feels amazing. And the best part for my wife is she doesn't have to wear the garments. She can wear shorts and a t-shirt in the middle of summer and be comfortable. Hail, Lusifena. And hey, she doesn't have to wear the garments. She can wear shorts and a t-shirt in the middle of summer and be comfortable. Hail Lusifena. And hey, I don't have to worry about getting the old Jesus jammies caught in the sprocket while I'm peddling. Now I'm starting to learn more tricks and stuff. You know what I mean?

That's great. Anyway, thanks to Dan the Man for doing time stuck and keeping me entertained on my commutes to and from work. Thanks for being a good meat sack, reminding me to be a good meat sack too. I go peepee in the potty like a good boy. I don't make my wife shit on my chest and I've never shit on hers. I've never started a cult or killed a sex worker or two or a baby or a zombie or a dog or a cat. I do however make my kids fear me and read the scriptures just in case I want

to go off the rails and start a cult someday. So thanks for sucking shittier people than me. It's great for my self-worth. Usually when I get done listening to Timeslick I think, at least I ain't that guy. I think that a lot too. So thank you. Oh, and thanks for ruining Papa John's pizza for me. I can't eat pizza without thinking about hair in it. I had the worst visual when Papa John's forced you to advertise their new pizzas during the live and the endy suck. Three out of five stars wouldn't change a thing. Sorry not sorry for the length of this email, but one more thing. How did you not put Pat Sajak in this Time Suck? You asked if Vonda White was related to Vanna White and I was waiting for Pat Sajak to show up.

I was actually kind of bummed. I just imagine that when Rena took off her wig after killing Rulon it would really be Pat Sajak. But whatever. If you read this email on time suck I left my real name out but I'll give you my new name Ezra. Can you give me a shout out to some of my friends? They'll know who they are. Israel Jonah Adam Abraham Luke John Peter James Joseph Brigham Taylor Hiram Alma Moroni and to my awesome wife Rhoda Schwindela. That's great Rhoda Schwindela. Wow Ezra what a fucking ride that message was. It was like a mini episode. I was riveted.

What an interesting life you've led, you courageous son of a bitch. Good on you. Hail, Ezra. You got to set a giant stone ball, Sonya. But how inspiring, seriously. Your message made my day. You're a good one. I can tell you're a great husband, you know, and your kids. Oh my God, are they going to respect the shit out of you when they get old enough to understand what you've done? I hope your day is going great. I hope your story will inspire others. And sorry for the Pat Sajak miss. It was just right there! Also, you are funny as hell. Keep living a curious, examined, authentic

life. I hope it's a long, fulfilling, and healthy one. Ease down the coconuts. Hail Nimrod, everyone. Thanks, Time Suckers. I needed that. We all did. Thank you for listening to another Bad Magic Productions podcast. Scared to death, Time Suck each week. Short Sucks and Nightmare Fuel on the Time Suck and Scared to Death podcast feeds some weeks. Please don't try and live on coconuts alone this week. You probably won't die. You're not gonna die this week, but I can't imagine you'll feel very good. And also don't put a cock in your cock in a cage or burn your clit either. Just fucking just calm down. Just calm the fuck down and keep on

sucking. So can we talk a bit more about Kellogg's Frosted Cock cages? How exactly would one of those cock cages work? Like I'm picturing a jock strap of some sort. That kind of setup. But with metal chains instead of elastic bands wrapping around the thighs. Also how would that keep you from not jerking off? You know, when you just be able to easily take your dick out of the cage, put it back in the cage. Aren't you the warden of your own caulk cage? Does it have straps though? Maybe that wrap over your shoulders and then the straps also go around your ass and up your back.

And then in the middle of the back these straps come together or chains really and they get locked where you can't reach it to unlock it or or is the locking mechanism in an easy to reach place but you just give the key to unlock your cock cage to someone who won't just unlock it if you're horny and and how will they know you're horny as opposed just needing to take it off to take a piss do they have to do a boner check before unlocking your cock or do to just needing to take it off to take a piss? Do they have to do a boner check before unlocking your cock? Or do you just have to pee through the cage and never take it off? Wouldn't that make it harder

to sleep? How big is the cage? Is it big enough to accommodate a boner or only big enough to accommodate a flaccid bologna pony so that it hurts when you start to heat up, further deterring you from cleaning the muzzle of your purple-headed custard cannon. If you or someone you love wears a cock cage, please write in, let me know. I don't want to start getting sleep deprived because I just keep staying up at night needing these very important questions answered.