('James Tiberius ','March 22, 2233','N/A','Riverside, IA, USA','Fictional American Admiral','<p>Now I\'m not going to get into the whole Kirk-Picard thing here, not just because it\'s essentially the nerdiest debate ever recorded in the annals of nerddom, but because I really don\'t have anything against Picard.&nbsp; I like him.&nbsp; I really do.&nbsp; However, this site isn\'t set up for the purposes of debating who the most capable starship Captain is -- it\'s to pay homage to the biggest badasses.&nbsp; And in terms of sheer badassery, it doesn\'t get much better than Captain James Tiberius Kirk of the&nbsp;<em>USS Enterprise</em>&nbsp;NCC-1701, the man who shot first, didn\'t ask questions, sucker punched the dead bodies and then made out with the alien widows.</p>\r\n<p>In later years the United Federation of Planets got all touchy-feely with their \"Prime Directive\" and their \"settle things through diplomacy\" passive-aggressive touchy-feely bullshit, but back in the day Captain Kirk didn\'t give two craps about introducing himself to a newly-discovered alien species by fixing them a homemade spaceman knuckle sandwich and then stomping on their genitals.&nbsp; His unique fighting style of dishing out flying dropkicks, judo throws and double-hammerfists like Bruce Lee doped up on ten pounds of quaaludes was way more balls-out than any alien motherfucker could handle, and those who were tough enough to withstand his fumbling fists of fury found themselves on the receiving end of a patented James T. Kirk OPEN HAND JUDO MOTHERFUCKING CHOP.&nbsp; His technique of slapping someone in the neck with the blade of his hand was so vicious it could drop a fucking blood-lusted Minotaur in it\'s tracks.</p>\r\n<p>On the (very) rare occasions that the face-punching and the hand-to-hand combat wasn\'t working out for Jim, it\'s not like he didn\'t have other options to fall back on either, because nothing gets in the way of a starship Captain and his insatiable need to jack up some bastard space aliens.&nbsp; He didn\'t have a problem whipping out the phaser and blasting the shit out of assholes, hopping in the&nbsp;<em>Enterprise</em>&nbsp;and firing enough torpedoes to destroy the solar system, or engineering some crazy makeshift weapon and using it to slaughter an entire civilization.&nbsp; He had no compunctions about self-destructing enemy vessels, violating long-standing peace treaties and basically doing whatever he wanted to whomever he wanted at all times.&nbsp; He didn\'t bow down to bullshit Starfleet regulations, and he certainly didn\'t fuck around when it came to weird xenomorph motherfuckers that were just asking to have their space shit wrecked.</p>\r\n<p>But it wasn\'t all just about punching alien fighter pilots in their stupid space faces, breaking Klingon Bat\'leths over his head and photon torpedoing Romulan vessels into the Delta Quadrant for Kirk.&nbsp; He understood the Holy Trinity of Space Captaining - you kick the asses of the hideous evil alien spacemen, you blow up any vessel that doesn\'t have your country\'s logo emblazoned on it\'s hull and you make out with every hot alien babe you can get your hands on.&nbsp; And holy shit was he a space player.&nbsp; The women he met on his intrepid expeditions could have six heads, purple skin, four arms, it didn\'t matter.&nbsp; All chicks in the galaxy understood the universal language of Captain Kirk\'s space package, and all of them swooned like wounded doves every time he emerged from a fistfight with a giant taloned alien monster with half of his uniform top ripped off.&nbsp; He had hot alien babes flinging themselves at him all across the universe, and didn\'t give two shits about ignoring Starfleet regulations, disobeying his direct orders and swooping down to the Bikini Beach Blanket Bingo planet for a couple days of 1960\'s-style surfing parties and scoring with every scantily-clad bipedal alien female he thought was even remotely attractive.&nbsp; He was such a space pimp that it\'s no surprise that he was in on the first interracial kiss in American television history - and I\'m not just talking about that time that he got it on with Uhura either, because he was also the first televised Human-Vulcan kiss, Human-Green Skinned Alien Chick kiss, Human-Robo Cyborg Babe kiss, and Human-Alien Psycho Murdering Shapeshifter Woman make out session as well.&nbsp; Basically he was a pioneer in the art of space Frenching.</p>\r\n<p>Now please allow me to take this time to summarize Captain James Tiberius Kirk\'s entire career as a Starfleet Officer in four pictures:</p>\r\n<table style=\"width: 70%;\" cellpadding=\"10\" align=\"center\">\r\n<tbody>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/kirk1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></td>\r\n<td><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/kirk2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></td>\r\n</tr>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/kirk3.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></td>\r\n<td><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/kirk4.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></td>\r\n</tr>\r\n</tbody>\r\n</table>\r\n<p>Basically, Kirk was awesome.&nbsp; He wasn\'t interested in any problem that couldn\'t be solved by making out with a hot babe or kicking an alien in the junk, he had probably one of the coolest sidekicks in the history of Science Fiction, and his job basically was just to fly through the galaxy in a top-of-the-line spaceship having all sorts of crazy awesome adventures.&nbsp; When he was on a planet and had to fight a dude in a green rubber monster costume he invented gunpowder, put together a homemade machine gun out of materials he found lying around and shot the alien in the face with his space cannon.&nbsp; Without even trying very hard he pissed off the tyrant Khan so badly that he swore revenge on Kirk at all costs.&nbsp; He even came face-to-face with God once, and was just like \"whatever dude\".&nbsp; Kirk rules.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/kirk5.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://memory-alpha.org/en/wiki/James_T._Kirk\" target=\"blank\">Memory Alpha</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.ussvictoria.co.uk/fullofshat/lessons.html\" target=\"blank\">Full of Shat</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://echosphere.net/star_trek_insp/star_trek_insp.html\" target=\"blank\">Star Trek Inspirational Posters</a></p>','2007-06-06','952097421203','kirk_new.jpg','','James T. Kirk','Captain on the Starship Enterprise, and made the Judo Chop what it is today.',''),('Spartacus','109 BCE','71 BCE','Strymon, Bulgaria','Ancient Bulgarian Warrior','<p>While it\'s true that \"gladiator\" is probably one of the most badass professions this side of \"ninja\", \"zamboni driver\" and \"t-shirt cannon operator\", back in Roman times it wasn\'t all just dudes running around in skirts having fun and games at the old ball park and Russell Crowe\'s biceps - it was a tough fucking job, and the sheer nature of the profession meant that it had very few perks and a mortality rate that makes deep-sea Alaskan King Crab fishing look like a routine day at the pillow fluff inspection factory.&nbsp; Spending every afternoon holding a goddamn trident and trying to take on a pack of hungry charging rhinoceroses while being chained to a half-dozen sword-swinging virgin midget women solely for the viewing pleasure of a bunch of stuck-up rich snobs who\'d like nothing more than to see you impaled on a rhino horn isn\'t really most peoples\' idea of a satisfying career path.&nbsp; And back in Rome it\'s not like today where the prime super-stud athletes get six-digit salaries and live in giant mansions constructed out of gold and the crushed-up bones of orphan children where they spend all day counting the zeros in their bank account and nailing their bimbo wives who\'s fake boobs are so omega gigantor that their bra sizes can only be measured by NASA\'s top astrophysicists - no, the gladiators were essentially slaves who slept in cages, walked around in manacles, and who\'s only purpose in life was to kill other gladiators (and sometimes wild beasts) until such time as they themselves were killed in a violent and bloody way for the amusement of others.&nbsp; While that makes it a badass profession, it doesn\'t necessarily make it the sort of job that cares about shit like \"employee satisfaction\" and \"worker morale\".&nbsp; One guy who found this out the hard way was a dude known only as Spartacus.</p>\r\n<p>Spartacus was a soldier from Thrace who served in the Roman Army\'s auxillary forces early in his life.&nbsp; He was tough as nails and fought well until one day when Rome was really getting their balls whipped and he decided to get the fuck away from the battlefield before a big angry German put a sword into his brain.&nbsp; Unfortunately back in those days the Roman Army didn\'t really understand the whole self-preservation thing.&nbsp; They labeled him a deserter, captured him, and sold both him and his wife into slavery.&nbsp; Because of Spartacus\' natural strength and cunning, he was trained as a gladiator and shipped off to get busy hacking peoples\' arms off and cracking rabid goats in the mouth with his fist.&nbsp; Well as I mentioned previously, the life of a gladiator wasn\'t exactly a walk in the park on a Sunday afternoon, so Spartacus was like, \"fuck this bullshit\" and decided to quit his job.&nbsp; And for Spartacus, \"quitting your job\" meant \"liberating your wife, getting a group of about seventy hardcore gladiators, stealing a bunch of cleavers and knives from the mess hall, hacking up two dozen Roman soldiers and escaping off into the Italian countryside\".</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/spartacus1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />This is fucking gay, I\'m outta here.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>So Spartacus and his army of pissed-off gladiators took to the hills, plundering towns and raiding weapons stockpiles all over the place while the Roman Army stood around with it\'s thumb up it\'s collective ass.&nbsp; Soon other slaves, brigands, and outcasts in the countryside heard that there was this badass group of warriors fucking shit up, and they all wanted to get in on the action.&nbsp; Many other slaves overthrew their masters and ran off to seek glory with Spartacus, and before long the ranks of this rogue army climbed to an estimated 120,000 men, women, and children.&nbsp; Now the Romans obviously weren\'t too pleased about this rampaging horde of madmen tearing ass across their territory, so they sent the Praetor of Rome to bust Spartacus and his men up.&nbsp; About a month later the Praetor walked back into town alone.&nbsp; The gladiators had kicked his ass, killed all his men, and stolen his horse out from under him.</p>\r\n<p>That was fucking it.&nbsp; The Romans sent both their Consuls out with two Legions apiece to deal with the Slave Army.&nbsp; However, they were unprepared for how balls-out a military strategist Spartacus was, and he and his gladiators had trained his peasants well.&nbsp; He charged the first Consul\'s army, kicked their asses, and quickly spun back to dish out another epic beat-down to the second army.&nbsp; After slapping four full Roman Legions around like they were insolent street prostitutes, Spartacus marched for Gaul, whipping the balls of another Roman Army while he was at it.&nbsp; Right when he was about to cross into Gaul and make a break for freedom though, he decided, \"nah, fuck it\" and turned around.&nbsp; He captured the town of Thurii and set up a camp there.&nbsp; The Romans tried to dislodge him once or twice, but were unsuccessful.&nbsp; For three fucking years Spartacus roamed the land kicking balls like AC Milan until finally the Roman noble Marcus Lycineus Crassus decided he was going to put an end to that shit.&nbsp; He put a force of eight full Legions together and managed to corner Spartacus\' men in the toe of the Italian boot.</p>\r\n<p>Spartacus attempted to break out through Crassus\' lines, and at first his men fought several successful battles against the Roman Army.&nbsp; However, all the asskicking that the gladiators were doing finally made them a little too overconfident and despite Spartacus\' orders they launched a full-on assault of Crassus\' lines and suffered a crushing defeat.&nbsp; Contrary to what Kirk Douglas and Stanley Kubrick might have taught you, Spartacus was slain in combat on the field that day while trying to fight his way to Crassus and was not recaptured by the Romans.&nbsp; However, 6600 of his men threw down their weapons in surrender and were promptly crucified along the Appian Road outside of Rome.&nbsp; Crassus never gave the order for their bodies to be taken down, and the crosses remained for several years.</p>\r\n<p>There\'s just something innately badass about a motherfucker who puts together an army of gladiators and hands the Roman Army it\'s ass time and time again.&nbsp; The guy\'s army of peasants and slaves was completely outclassed by the well-trained and better-equipped Romans, but through strategy and cunning he was able to whip his band of rejects into a fighting force that was able to hold it\'s own against Legion after Legion for three years.&nbsp; He liberated himself, fucked up the Romans, and died a free man.&nbsp; He gave no quarter, nor did he ask for it.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/spartacus2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<table style=\"width: 60%;\" align=\"center\">\r\n<tbody>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><span><span>\"Then pushing his way towards Crassus himself through many flying weapons and wounded men, he did not indeed reach him, but slew two centurions who fell upon him together.&nbsp; Finally, after his companions had taken to flight, he stood alone, surrounded by a multitude of foes, and was still defending himself when he was cut down.\"</span></span>\r\n<p align=\"center\">- Plutarch, Life of Crassus 11:7</p>\r\n</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n</tbody>\r\n</table>\r\n<p><br /><br /></p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://penelope.uchicago.edu/Thayer/E/Roman/Texts/Appian/Civil_Wars/1*.html#116\" target=\"blank\">Appian:&nbsp; The Civil Wars 1:116</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://penelope.uchicago.edu/Thayer/E/Roman/Texts/Plutarch/Lives/Crassus*.html#8\" target=\"blank\">Plutarch:&nbsp; Life of Crassus 8</a></p>','2007-06-01','295702322182','spartacus_new.jpg','spartacus_new - Copy.jpg','Spartacus','Became a HUGE pain in the ass to the Romans after they fucked him over, lead a massive slave rebellion.','\"I Am Spartacus!\"\r\n(Not Pictured:  Spartacus)'),('Frank Castle','N/A','N/A','New York, NY, USA','Fictional American Vigilante','<p>I get a lot of Badass of the Week e-mail requests for comic book characters and various sundry superheroes ranging from insane Japanese Manga monkey-robot warlords with lasers for arms to obscure X-Mutants with the power to read the minds of small children, produce an electromagnetic field by farting, or do something else that\'s equally as useless in day-to-day life.&nbsp; While this is all well and good, I feel like I need to put forth my vision of what constitutes a real badass superhero.&nbsp; Now I know I\'m an old geezer who\'s been out of the comic book scene for a while, but when I was growing up I remember thinking that the fucking Punisher was the baddest motherfucker on the planet.</p>\r\n<p>First off, the guy holds his own against all sorts of organized crime and powerful mutant villains and&nbsp;<em>isn\'t even a real superhero</em>&nbsp;- he\'s just some dude with enough guns to single-handedly outfit a revolution in a third-world country who has spent the better part of his lifetime cultivating a sense of revenge the likes of which makes the Count of Monte Cristo look like an inflatable inner-tube shaped like a purple bunny sailing down the River of Eternal Happiness.&nbsp; He\'s got a chip on his shoulder the size of a small ocean liner, and he\'s one of the only heroes out there with the ballsack to shoot first, snap necks, punch peoples\' faces into their brains, and leave the question-asking to the fucking reporters.</p>\r\n<p>You see, the Punisher was just your regular run-of-the-mill average-joe Vietnam-vet ex-special forces hardcore Marine Recon Force motherfucker named Frank Castle (which is a badass name by the way), when all of a sudden one day the goddamn mob did what they do best - they had Castle, his wife, and his kids gunned down at point-blank range to keep them from testifying about a murder they\'d witnessed.&nbsp; Bastards.&nbsp; Well Castle isn\'t the sort of dude who just sits there and dies from multiple gunshot wounds when he should be out living for revenge, so as soon as he recovers (through sheer force of will alone of course) he goes to the cops to report what happened.&nbsp; Well you know the fucking cops are in the mob\'s back pocket, so they just smile and nod and take notes on their invisible typewriters.&nbsp; Realizing he\'s getting blown off like a one-night-stand, Castle decides to take shit into his own hands (since he obviously doesn\'t really have a whole lot else going on).&nbsp; He gets a leather trenchcoat, a bullet-proof black suit with a badass fucking skull embroidered on it, puts together an arsenal that makes Fatah al-Islam look like the Parent-Teacher Association and declares a one-man war on crime.&nbsp; And I\'m not talking just the Italian Mafia here either folks - he fucking goes after everyone from the Triads and the Yakuza to the fucking group of pre-teen bullies on the playground behind the Elementary School who beat kids up for their lunch money.&nbsp; Nobody is safe from the Punisher\'s unique brand of balls-out \"throw you face-first through a plate glass window and then shoot you in the neck with a sawed-off shotgun\" style of justice.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/punisher2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />The Punisher doesn\'t mind bringing&nbsp;<br />a rocket launcher to a knife fight.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Vigilante Justice on it\'s own is a totally fucking sweet concept, but living for revenge is just as awesome.&nbsp; And the Punisher does not fuck around when it comes to living for revenge.&nbsp; He puts his extensive military experience and impressive physical skills to the test, toting everything from a KA-BAR combat knife to an M-16 to a refrigerator full of C4 on his crime-busting rampage, and unlike a lot of the other pussier superheroes out there he\'s not afraid to use them.&nbsp; Often.&nbsp; In fact, he\'s such a danger to anyone dumbshit enough to cross him that a lot of times he\'s actually got to be restrained by OTHER SUPERHEROES.&nbsp; Like that pussy Daredevil is always out there saying lame shit such as, \"dude lighten up on this douchebag criminal who would just as soon jab a shard of broken glass in your eye as look at you!\".&nbsp; Luckily, the Punisher frowns, gives him the finger, tells him to go fuck himself, and then bashes his stupid head into a concrete wall.&nbsp; His destructive tendencies have also made him known among police organizations as a dangerous and notorious criminal, despite the fact that he\'s kicking the asses of a bunch of scumbags who more than likely deserve it.&nbsp; I guess the five-oh is just pissed that he\'s getting all the good kills while they\'re out on their fifth Dunkin\' Donuts run of the day.</p>\r\n<p>Punisher doesn\'t give a fuck though.&nbsp; When shit gets too hot in New York he just loads up his Death Van with about ten tons worth of automatic weapons and drives his ass to South America to fuck up some Columbian Drug Cartel\'s shit or something.&nbsp; When he starts to get low on money (burning about two billion dollars a day in ammunition will do that to a man), he just kills a fucking mob boss or a money launderer or something and robs their corpse.&nbsp; That\'s fucking hardcore, using the bastards\' own money against them.</p>\r\n<p>I should mention that I have no idea what the Punisher is up to these days, as I really haven\'t read a comic book since like 1994 and he could be a total pussy metrosexual now or something, but for my money it doesn\'t get any better than a regular guy who\'s built like a Linebacker and who has a shitload of guns, an unkillable desire to live for revenge, and nothing to lose.&nbsp; The Punisher is an unstoppable reckless badass who goes out into a world of supervillains with ridiculous powers and teaches them that you don\'t need to be exposed to vast amounts of radioactive slime to bust criminals\' heads - a rifle butt works just fine.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/punisher.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />He\'s also probably got the least-flamboyant<br />superhero outfit ever.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Punisher\" target=\"blank\">Hooray for Wikipedia</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.punisher-art.com/contents/site_contents.htm\" target=\"blank\">Punisher Art</a></p>','2007-05-25','121335623132','punisher1_new.jpg','punisher1_new - Copy.jpg','The Punisher','Has no compunction about fucking your shit up after his wife and kid were murdered.',''),('Fairchild Republic A-10 Thunderbolt II','May 10, 1972 (First Flight)','N/A','Hagerstown, MD, USA','21st-century American Weapon','<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-family: helvetica; font-size: xx-small;\">Vehicle Statistics</span></p>\r\n<table style=\"width: 60%;\" border=\"1\" cellspacing=\"1\" cellpadding=\"3\">\r\n<tbody>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td width=\"30%\"><strong>Designation:</strong></td>\r\n<td>A-10 Thunderbolt II (aka Warthog)</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><strong>Function:</strong></td>\r\n<td>Close Air Support</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><strong>Nation of Origin:</strong></td>\r\n<td>The United States of America</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><strong>Speed:</strong></td>\r\n<td>420 Miles Per Hour (Mach 0.56)</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><strong>Range:</strong></td>\r\n<td>800 Miles</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><strong>Ceiling:</strong></td>\r\n<td>45,000 feet (13,636 meters)</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><strong>Armament:</strong></td>\r\n<td>One 30mm GAU-8/A Avenger seven-barrel Gatling gun</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><strong>Payload:</strong></td>\r\n<td>Up to 16,000 pounds (7,200 kg) of mixed ordinance including conventional and laser-guided bombs, incendiary cluster bombs, AGM-65 Maverick air-to-ground missiles, AIM-9 Sidewinder air-to-air missiles, and various other munitions and countermeasures</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><strong>Power Plant:</strong></td>\r\n<td>Two General Electric TF34-GE-100 Turbofans</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><strong>Crew:</strong></td>\r\n<td>One</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n</tbody>\r\n</table>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Say what you want about the Air Force being a bunch of pussies or whatever, but for my money shit doesn\'t get a whole lot more badass than the A-10 Warthog.&nbsp; The thing is a goddamned flying tank from Hell equipped with a badass 30mm Avenger Gatling gun the likes of which would make the Terminator soil his extra-tight leather pants.&nbsp; The Avenger (even the name is badass) fires armor-piercing rounds capable of tearing gigantic sucking flesh wounds in even the most formidable Soviet-built Commie bastard battle tanks and can be switched over on the fly to dispense 4,200 high-explosive rounds per minute when it needs to blast the shit out of less heavily-armored crap like trucks, artillery, APCs, SUVs, hang gliders and renegade hot dog stands.</p>\r\n<p>If that doesn\'t float your boat, the thing\'s also equipped with enough explosives to blast the Moon into about eight billion tiny inedible cheese wheels.&nbsp; It\'s got a crapload of super-accurate laser-guided air-to-ground missiles and various other high-yield bombs for taking out bunkers, SAM emplacements, radar sites, and grounded fighters, and also has air-to-air missiles in case they need to show some enemy jets what it\'s like to be on the receiving end of some good old-fashioned red, white, and blue American Grade-A top-choice beef sirloin whup-ass.&nbsp; It\'s also also so heavily armored that it can withstand direct hits from armor-piercing and high-explosive projectiles up to 37mm in size, can survive having a 2002 VW Beetle launched at it at extremely high velocity by a Russian-made Volkswagen Cannon, and has heat-shielded engines (and sundry other countermeasures) so no Commie Nazi Terrorist Unitarian bastards can jam a heat-seeking missile up it\'s ass.</p>\r\n<p>The A-10 is like the grizzled old-school Linebacker of the United States Air Force.&nbsp; It\'s not flashy, it\'s not super-fast, it\'s not going to do like twenty barrel rolls just to try and prove to you how huge it\'s cock is... it just shows up, fucks everyone\'s shit up, and goes home.&nbsp; Even it\'s name is a good indicator of the fact that this plane doesn\'t fuck around.&nbsp; Think of it this way - while all those other hotshot fancy-pants jets are out there flying around doing fruity-ass loop-de-loops, feathering their hair and listening to \"Danger Zone\" with pretentious fucking extravagant nicknames like \"Eagle\", \"Falcon\", \"Tomcat\", and \"Raptor\", the A-10 is the fucking Warthog.&nbsp; Have you ever seen a warthog before?&nbsp; It ain\'t pretty:</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/warthog1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>This is not a graceful or elegant creature.&nbsp; It\'s a fucking angry pig that roots around in shit all day and gores lesser creatures to death with it\'s giant goddamned awkward tusks.&nbsp; That\'s like the A-10.&nbsp; It\'s not designed to get out there like a purebred poodle and perform fucking air shows at the Eukanuba Nationals, it\'s designed to fly out, support the infantry, go toe-to-toe with a company of badass tanks and jack their shit up like a AAA tow truck driver on an emergency service call.</p>\r\n<p>Here\'s another piece of evidence.&nbsp; You know how a lot of those bomber jocks or whatever used to paint all those tawdry tight sweater-wearing pin-up chicks and stuff on the side of their planes?&nbsp; Well this is what Warthog pilots put on their aircraft:</p>\r\n<table style=\"width: 70%;\" cellpadding=\"15\" align=\"center\">\r\n<tbody>\r\n<tr><th><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/warthog5.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></th><th><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/warthog6.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></th></tr>\r\n</tbody>\r\n</table>\r\n<p>That\'s right:&nbsp; A motherfucking MEAN FACE.&nbsp; I guess that\'s a shark or something, but the point is that it LOOKS PISSED OFF and it has a HUGE FUCKING GUN sticking out of it\'s mouth.&nbsp; Who needs some doe-eyed tart hootchie smiling like a dumbass and leisurely reclining on the side of a plane when you can adorn it with an intimidating toothy grin?&nbsp; On the side of the plane is a list of fucking kills.&nbsp; That\'s what this A-10 shit is all about - any jackass can get out there and dogfight at Mach 10 with a bunch of 1980s-era MiG-29s yelling, \"<span>I GOT A BOGEY ON MY SIX I CAN\'T SHAKE HIM ROGER THAT TEN NINER YOU CAN BE MY WINGMAN ANY TIME!</span>\" - the real badass planes are the ones swooping in 100 feet above the ground laying fiery death down on a vast array of front-line enemy troops and launching missiles shaped like those giant oversized boxing gloves from the cartoons which give enemy commanders the middle finger before punching them in the balls and then detonating with enough force to create a volcanic eruption on Mars.</p>\r\n<table style=\"width: 70%;\" cellpadding=\"15\" align=\"center\">\r\n<tbody>\r\n<tr><th><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/warthog2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></th><th><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/warthog3.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></th></tr>\r\n</tbody>\r\n</table>\r\n<p>The A-10 rocks.&nbsp; In terms of getting down-and-dirty, it\'s like a women\'s competitive mudwrestling champion among beauty queens.&nbsp; It doesn\'t have the flair and panache of the more metrosexual Air Force jets, but it\'s tough, deadly, ugly, deceptively maneuverable, and can take more punishment than an entire farm full of disobedient donkeys.&nbsp; It\'s a highly-efficient tank-killer, its minimal takeoff and landing requirements make it able to function effectively even on the front lines, and it can hold its own on attack and support missions.&nbsp; More than once it\'s bailed out U.S. troops who were&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.af.mil/news/story.asp?storyID=123008450\" target=\"blank\">pinned down by an ambush</a>, and it\'s quick turning radius actually allows it to strafe a stationary target twice in under eight seconds.</p>\r\n<p>Probably the most telling indicator of the Warthog\'s ultimate badassitude come from it\'s numbers when we were fucking up the Iraqi Republican Guard in 1991.&nbsp; During Desert Storm, A-10s flew 8,100 sorties, with a mission capable rate of 95.7%. They were credited with killing 987 tanks, 926 artillery pieces, 1,106 trucks, 51 SCUD missile launchers, and a shitload of support vehicles and bunkers.&nbsp; I mean, holy shit, those hotshot flyboy prissy fighter pilots get a goddamned medal, a blowjob from a supermodel and the rank of \"Flying Ace\" after only&nbsp;<em>five</em>&nbsp;fucking kills... these Desert Storm A-10 pilots were getting racking up those kinds of numbers on their bathroom breaks.&nbsp; When it comes to no-bullshit death from above badassitude, the A-10 Warthog is where it\'s at.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/warthog4.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />PWNED</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.globalsecurity.org/military/systems/aircraft/a-10.htm\" target=\"blank\">Global Security Factsheet</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.a-10.org/\" target=\"blank\">Warthog Territory</a></p>','2007-05-18','279479923653','warthog_new.jpg','warthog_new - Copy.jpg','The A-10 Warthog','Pants-shitting awesome asplode machine.',''),('Joan of Arc','1412','May 30, 1431','Domrémy, France','Medieval French General','<p>Back in the 1420\'s, France was in deep shit.&nbsp; France and England were in the middle of the Hundred Years\' War, and despite the fact that the War began in the year 1337 the \"1337\" French knights were getting the long unattractive end of the assbeating stick shoved up their rectums by badass Brit motherfuckers like Edward the Black Prince and John Talbot.&nbsp; Rebellious provinces, succession disputes, British \"scorched earth\" tactics and a little thing called&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/blackdeath.html\" target=\"blank\">The Black Death</a>&nbsp;didn\'t really help things a whole lot either.&nbsp; However, just when things couldn\'t have looked bleaker for the struggling Frenchies, salvation came in the most unlikely form - that of a sixteen year-old illiterate farmgirl named Jeanne d\'Arc.</p>\r\n<p>Joan was a badass warrior babe who stomped crotches across Paris in her short but retardedly successful career as a military commander and a Knight of France, though I feel as though I should go ahead right now and tell you that she was definitely NOT the sort of oversexed licentious warrior babe you see in movies and video games that wears next to nothing in terms of clothing and gives you a boner because OH YEAH she\'s also a fucking pure-as-the-driven Catholic Saint you goddamned perverts.&nbsp; She was a tough, pious, god-fearing crusader who wouldn\'t even hesitate to bash you over the head with a rusty pipe if you stood between her and the liberation of her homeland from foreign aggression.</p>\r\n<p>One day she was just walking around her farm thinking about how badly the French were getting their balls whipped when all of a sudden the Patron Saint of Badassitude&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/stmichael.html\" target=\"blank\">St. Michael</a>&nbsp;came flying down from Heaven and was all like, \"Yo you need to get a sword and start kicking asses.\"&nbsp; She responded, \"dude tell me about it but what the fuck do you want me to do?\".&nbsp; Michael taught her a super-secret gang sign, told her to go flash it to Prince Charles VII, and then said she should demand to be put in charge of the army.&nbsp; Since she was eager to start hacking up enemy soldiers (and certainly wasn\'t one to try and fuck with God\'s Will) Joan jumped on a horse and rode off on her quest to rock some British faces.&nbsp; She showed up at Charles\' pad, flashed the sign, gave him a secret handshake and told him, \"Hey God said you should give me control of your armies and let me lay waste to these invading British cockmasters who are out there jacking our shit up\".&nbsp; Charles had a tough time arguing with this, so he set her up with a horse, a suit of armor and a battle standard and sent her off to wreak havoc.</p>\r\n<p>Now at this point the major French stronghold of Orleans had been under siege Stephen Segal-style by the Brits for several months and was in danger of capitulating at any time.&nbsp; The troops were demoralized, supplies were low, and the British soldiers were being real douchebags about the whole thing.&nbsp; Joan showed up and immediately decided she was going to lead her troops in full-scale balls-out assaults against the enemy camps and forts that surrounded the town.&nbsp; Now the guys who were in charge of the French forces at Orleans weren\'t really down with being ordered around by a teenage chick with no combat experience, but when they tried to give her shit she just bitch-slapped them with a ten pound steel gauntlet, told them to \"grow a pair\", kicked them into a river and prepared the attack anyways.&nbsp; She went to the front lines, gave a speech so inspiring it would have made William Wallace cry tears of blood, and then send her men off to whomp faces.&nbsp; The French started kicking ass all over the place, taking fortification after fortification, crushing the unprepared English armies, and in just eight days the siege had been lifted and the British defenses had been crushed.</p>\r\n<p>Joan didn\'t stop there though.&nbsp; She had already won the respect of her generals and her men, and she pressed the attack, tearing ass through the French countryside Blitzkrieg-style in 1429 karate chopping the British commanders up and down the Loire River Valley.&nbsp; The campaign culminated in the Battle of Patay, when 1,500 french heavy knights obliterated a force of 5,000 British archers and footsoldiers while only losing 100 of their own.&nbsp; This was the first major French land victory in the war, and opened the way for Joan\'s men to capture the city of Reims and coronate Charles VII the official King of France.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/joanofarc1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />Joan busting some asses.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Now Joan wanted to get right back out there and kick some nuts again, but a damn hippy peace treaty left her with nothing to do for a while.&nbsp; After a long winter dealing with court intrigues and other such bullshit Joan launched an assault on Paris, but during the campaign she was captured while trying to defend the town of Compeigne.&nbsp; Like any good commander, she had ordered the retreat of her men and took the place of honor as the last knight to leave the battlefield, but unfortunately this didn\'t work out so hot for her because she was ganked off her horse and taken prisoner.&nbsp; She tried to escape from her cell a couple times, even going so far as to leap out of a 70 foot high tower once, but was eventually shipped off to British HQ to meet her fate.&nbsp; The Brits accused her of being a witch, gave her an unfair trial and burned her at the stake as a heretic, which incidentally is probably one of the top five most badass ways a person can possibly die.</p>\r\n<p>As soon as the British clergy had finished with her execution, Jesus came down from Heaven on a white flying Pegasus Unicorn and was all like, \"Holy shit dudes, I enjoy a good witch-burning as much as anyone but you guys do know you seriously fucked up here right?\"&nbsp; Then the Pope showed up in his arrow-proof Popemobile and was like, \"sorry about that Jesus, I\'ll take care of these jokers\".&nbsp; The Pope held a legit trial, overturned the heresy conviction, shot Force Lightning out of his hands and beat the jackass clerics to death with his Magical Pope Hat.&nbsp; Later Popes would beatify and eventually canonize Saint Joan of Arc.</p>\r\n<p>Joan was a badass commander because didn\'t fuck around and wait for shit to happen - she sent her hardcore knights running all over the place impaling shit on their lances and bashing skulls like a hyperactive meth-head carnie pwning a round of Whack-a-Mole.&nbsp; She wasn\'t the sort of commander to hang back while everyone else was getting their limbs chopped off either - during the war she was shot in the chest with an arrow, hit in the leg with a crossbow bolt, and even got cracked in the helmet by a goddamned cannonball while scaling a siege ladder (she was so fucking tough she just \"walked it off\" and got right back in there though).&nbsp; She also gets Mega 4x Multiplier Badass Points for being probably one of the only people in the history of the world to be both burned at the stake as a heretic AND sainted.&nbsp; Oh yeah, and if that\'s not enough for you I forgot to mention that she also carried a Legendary Holy Sword (+5 vs. Evil-Aligned creatures, double damage to Undead, +2 to all Paladin skills) that she found buried behind the altar in the ancient Chapel of St. Catherine in Chinon.&nbsp; Her visions of God told her where the weapon was and she just went and dug it up.&nbsp; If that\'s not some crazy Tolkien-esque fantasy novel shit I don\'t know what is.</p>\r\n<p>All in all, in just one year of combat action Joan, known to her friends and foes alike simply as \"La Pucelle\" (The Maid), was more successful and won more victories than any French commander in the war, inspiring the entire nation to rally together and rise up against the invading enemy in the process.&nbsp; Her efforts would mark a turning point in the Hundred Years\' War, and by the war\'s end in 1453 the British armies would be completely driven out of France.&nbsp; She lived fast, died young (she was only nineteen at the time of her execution) and left a legacy that is still remembered to this day.&nbsp; Joan of Arc is a badass of the highest order.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/joanofarc2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joan_of_Arc\" target=\"blank\">The Requisite Wikipedia Entry</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/08409c.htm\" target=\"blank\">St. Joan at the Catholic Encyclopedia</a></p>','2007-05-11','854163724449','joanofarc_new.jpg','joanofarc_new - Copy.jpg','Joan of Arc','The French Joan of Arc.',''),('Conan of Cimmeria','Hyborean Age','Unknown','Cimmeria','Fictional Cimmerian Warrior','<p>You can have your fruity Elves, your hackneyed Orcs, your crazy impossible-to-understand fucking time-warping magic spells, and your \"high fantasy\" ass-grabbery.&nbsp; For my money, shit doesn\'t get any better than the O.G. of barbarian motherfuckers, Conan the Ass-Kicking Barbarian.&nbsp; And no, I\'m not talking about those 80\'s Schwarzenegger films where Arnold punches snake-worshipping hippie James Earl Jones in the face, head-butts a cactus and then flexes his pecs independently of one another like some sort of crazy inhuman cyborg, I\'m talking about the hardcore, ball-kicking, vulture-neck-biting, blood-lusting barbarian warlord created by Robert E. Howard back in 1932, a time (as I mentioned before in my&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/johncarter.html\" target=\"blank\">John Carter</a>&nbsp;update) when men liked their men to be seriously fucking manly and for those men to be good at killing other, weaker men and then going home, getting drunk, and scoring with any hot babes they want.</p>\r\n<p>Raised in the frozen wastes of war-like Cimmeria, Conan was hardened in a barbaric culture and trained from birth in all things related to kicking ass.&nbsp; Amongst the most ferocious and warlike culture in the Hyborean Age, Conan still distinguished himself as a peerless warrior, earning accolades as as a fifteen year-old for his valor in combat when the Cimmerians conquered the Aquilonian outpost of Venarium, killed every soldier defending it, tore the fortress apart stone by stone and then ground up those stones into a fine powder which they then ate for dinner every night for a week.&nbsp; He would go on to serve as an adventurer, thief, mercenary commander, bandit leader, military general, and fucking goddamned scurvy pirate captain.&nbsp; Later in life, once he had perfected his face-stabbing and artery-severing swordfighting techniques, he put together an army of hardcore barbarian nomad mercenary motherfuckers, destroyed the armies of the mighty Kingdom of Aquilonia, strangled the oppressive tyrant King to death on his own throne and then took the crown for himself.&nbsp; He went on to rule for many years and was beloved by his people for his fairness and leadership ability.</p>\r\n<p>Now Conan the Motherfucking Bloodthirsty Barbarian isn\'t just a clever name.&nbsp; He\'s no John Carter of Mars - He\'s not a swashbuckling, damsel-rescuing do-gooder; he\'s a hard-drinking, sword-swinging, wench-groping badass anti-hero who always gets his way, who\'s out almost exclusively for personal gain, and who does pretty much all of his negotiating with the business end of his trusty broadsword and a swift knee strike to the ballbag.</p>\r\n<p>I think the following story pretty much sums up Conan\'s attitude.&nbsp; One time a rogue pirate captain took him on as a member of the crew.&nbsp; Conan quickly proved himself to the rest of the men before killing the captain in a sword duel and banging his girlfriend.&nbsp; Then he helped his comerades slaughter an entire city of monsters before taking over as the new pirate captain.</p>\r\n<p>Another time Conan was working as the Captain of the Royal Guard for some city when this jackass bandit leader named Constantinus got an army together, plundered the city, wiped out the Guard and nailed Conan to a cross in the middle of the desert.&nbsp; Well instead of pussying out and dying like a chump, Conan survived on the cross for like two days before convincing a wandering group of bandit nomads to cut him down.&nbsp; They rescued him and he within a few months they elected Conan their leader.&nbsp; He immediately went out, recruited a few thousand warriors, and rode back into town to get some&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/eastwood.html\" target=\"blank\">Eastwood</a><a>-style revenge.&nbsp; Conan\'s motherfuckers swept into the city, slaughtered the mercenary army, captured Constantinus and crucified him to the same cross Conan was hung from.&nbsp; You just don\'t fuck with this guy.&nbsp; It\'s never a good idea.</a></p>\r\n<table cellpadding=\"10\" align=\"center\">\r\n<tbody>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/conan1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></td>\r\n<td align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/conan2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></td>\r\n</tr>\r\n</tbody>\r\n</table>\r\n<table style=\"width: 70%;\" align=\"center\">\r\n<tbody>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td colspan=\"2\"><span>As he sprang from the wall his ax dropped an outlaw with a severed shoulder, and the terrible back-hand return crushed the skull of another.&nbsp; Swords whined venomously about him, but death passed him by breathless margins.&nbsp; The Cimmerian moved in, a blur of blinding speed.&nbsp; He was like a tiger among baboons as he leaped, side-stepped and spun, offering an ever-moving target, while his ax wove a shining wheel of death about him.</span></td>\r\n</tr>\r\n</tbody>\r\n</table>\r\n<p><a><br /></a></p>\r\n<p>Conan\'s pretty much a motherfucker on the battlefield.&nbsp; His power and resilience is unmatched by any man.&nbsp; He defeats even the most skilled swordsmen with his unorthodox, wild fighting style, his exceptional strength, his blinding panther-like speed and reflexes, and his hard-as-hell Battle Frenzy, where he gets SUPER FUCKING PISSED and starts killing everything that moves with a flurry of spinning blades and gore.&nbsp; He can win one-on-one duels and battle hordes of enemies, can take an insane amount of physical punishment without slowing down.&nbsp; The guy\'s harder to take down than a stampeding army of drunk armored mutant rhinos on PCP and can absorb more damage than a titanium-reinforced rocket-proof concrete wall built by Satan.&nbsp; Furthermore, his harsh upbringing prepares him for any situation.&nbsp; He can live on the land for months at a time, can go days without sleeping, can climb even the most sheer cliff faces, and has the sort of stealth skills that would make a snow leopard crap it\'s pants.&nbsp; In his travels he\'s also learned several different languages, can identify people by their accents, and is proficient in reading and writing a number of ancient and modern languages.</p>\r\n<p>Another badass aspect of CTC is that he\'s pretty much the definition of wandering adventurer - he has no allegiances to anyone but himself for any significant period of time, and travels from place to place seeking wealth, power, battle, and babes.&nbsp; He\'s like the D&amp;D character from hell.&nbsp; He explores uncharted cities, discovers long-lost civilizations, battles monsters, saves damsels in distress, and leads armies.&nbsp; He embraces his barbaric nature, attacks anything that radiates magic, doesn\'t take shit from any fucking \"civilized men\", and doesn\'t even blink when he\'s fucking face-to-face with some sort of fucked-up half-goat half-werewolf shadow demon.&nbsp; Basically, if it moves, Conan\'s pretty confident that he can jack it\'s shit up by hacking it\'s appendages off with his axe.&nbsp; He\'s pretty much always right.</p>\r\n<p>He\'s also smooth as hell, by the way.&nbsp; He\'s had everything from queens, goddesses and noble princesses to warrior babes, bar wenches and slave girls throwing their supple naked bodies at him in the sort of way you don\'t really see this side of a bad porno.&nbsp; He\'s usually pretty apathetic towards them, brushing them off and being all like \"whatever\", and you KNOW how that just makes chicks want you&nbsp;<em>even more</em>.&nbsp; He\'s just like \"whatever, babe...&nbsp; let me decapitate this evil Snake Demon and then we\'ll fuck\" and they\'re all like swooning all over him.&nbsp; I assume this is why in like nine out of every ten pictures of Conan he\'s standing on top of a towering pile of dead bodies with a huge fucking blood-drenched instrument of slashy death and there\'s some random half-naked skank laying on the ground next to him grabbing onto his leg like it\'s the last fucking life preserver on the HMS<em>Titanic</em>.</p>\r\n<p><a><br /></a></p>\r\n<p align=\"center\">Conan fucking rules.</p>\r\n<p><a><br /></a></p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/conan3.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<table style=\"width: 70%;\" cellpadding=\"10\" align=\"center\">\r\n<tbody>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><span>\"I have a ship and a fighting crew and a girl with lips like wine, and that\'s all I ever asked.&nbsp; Lick your wounds, bullies, and break out a cask of ale.&nbsp; You\'re going to work ship as she never was worked before.&nbsp; Dance and sing while you buckle to it, damn you! To the devil with empty seas! We\'re bound for waters where the seaports are fat, and the merchant ships are crammed with plunder!\"</span>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><span>- Conan</span></p>\r\n</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n</tbody>\r\n</table>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><br /><br /></p>\r\n<p><a><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /></a><a href=\"http://gutenberg.net.au/plusfifty-a-m.html#letterH\" target=\"blank\">Project Gutenberg Australia</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.dodgenet.com/~moonblossom/Hysources.htm\" target=\"blank\">Hyborean Age Sources</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.enworld.org/Inzeladun/conan.htm\" target=\"blank\">Conan the Barbarian</a></p>','2007-05-04','929961721424','conan_new.jpg','conan_new - Copy.jpg','Conan of Cimmeria','An adventurer who makes sleeping with babes in the middle of a battle look like a rare art form.','With his back to the wall he faced the closing ring for a flashing instant, then leaped into the thick of them.  He was no defensive fighter; even in the teeth of overwhelming odds he always carried the war to the enemy.  Any other man would have already died there, and Conan himself did not hope to survive, but he did ferociously wish to inflict as much damage as he could before he fell.  His barbaric soul was ablaze, and the chants of old heroes were singing in his ears.'),('Classified','Created 1982','N/A','Classified','Fictional American Soldier','<p>For as often as I profess my undying love for flying, stabbing, face-busting, peach-stealing, scrotum-crushing badass ninjas, it\'s hard to believe that I\'ve never actually featured one as my Badass of the Week.&nbsp; Sure, the clandestine nature of their profession sort of precludes them from receiving any sort of individual accolades, but that\'s hardly an excuse.</p>\r\n<p>As far as badass ninjas go, you could certainly do a lot worse than Snake Eyes, resident ninja of the ass-beating, Commie-punching, never-forgettin\', all-American counter-terrorist unit GI Joe, an organization dedicated to searching every corner of the Earth and scouring the planet of anyone and anything that doesn\'t own a dog, eat apple pie, and urinate red, white, and/or blue.&nbsp; Not only is Snake Eyes an eightieth-degree black belt grandmaster in every single form of martial arts ever invented (even the stupid ones you\'ve never heard of before) and stealthier than Sam Fisher and Solid Snake sneaking up on Hellen Keller inside a sound-proof hyperbaric chamber, but unlike a lot of other lesser ninjas out there Snake Eyes knows that sometimes when you\'re on your own facing two full battalions of heavily-armed cyborg killing machines you have to ditch the samurai swords, bust out the motherfucking twin Uzis and start putting together a mountain of recycling-grade steel the likes of which would make Al Gore crap his pants with bio-degradable sunshine.</p>\r\n<p>That\'s just how Snake Eyes rolls.&nbsp; Like when COBRA sends a couple squadrons of F.A.N.G. Helicopters, Rattler Attack Jets and H.I.S.S. Tanks out to try and bomb him into a crater the size of South Dakota, he doesn\'t \"seek cover\" like some sort of cowering pussy - he leaps sixty feet into the air, jumps from aircraft to aircraft slicing open cockpits and fuselages with his dong before soaring back to earth and tearing the tanks apart piece-by-piece using only a broken katana and a handful of 9mm bullets (which he\'s capable of throwing with deadly force and accuracy) before hopping on a motorcyle, popping a sweet ass wheelie, and then leaping off it right before it explodes, making sure to give Zartan and Destro a double flying side kick to the balls while in mid-flight.&nbsp; Black Sabbath plays in the background while he is doing this.</p>\r\n<p>He also gets badass points for having an awesome sidekick - Timber the Unimaginatively-Named Timber Wolf, who\'s like fifteen police K-9 attack dogs smashed together, injected with PCP and horse steroids and capable of biting through seventeen inches of tempered steel - and a deadly arch-enemy - the ninja assassin Storm Shadow, with his two hundred foot vertical leap and ability to fling ninja stars with enough force to cause a nuclear explosion.&nbsp; Sidekicks and arch-nemeses are both pretty much required of any sort of professional-grade badass, and Snake Eyes doesn\'t disappoint.&nbsp; Oh fuck, and I almost forgot to mention he\'s also a master of demolitions, a certified hand-to-hand combat instructor, a highly-efficient commando warrior, the Grand Master of an obscure clan of Japanese ninjas, a Vietnam vet and the only GI Joe capable of eating fifteen hot dogs in one sitting without barfing.&nbsp; One time he got in a helicopter accident and his head caught on fire.&nbsp; He\'s so awesome he doesn\'t even talk and he&nbsp;<span style=\"text-decoration: underline;\">still</span>&nbsp;bangs one of the only two girl Joes.&nbsp; You know that\'s hardcore, because those bitches probably have their pick of the guys.&nbsp; It\'s gotta be the raw animal magnetism inherent in a guy who can break through reinforced concrete walls with his fists and who\'s so Xtreme balls-out that his head is capable of spontaneous combustion.</p>\r\n<p>Yeah sure I don\'t know anything about Snake Eyes other than what was in the old-school TV show from the 80\'s and the Marvel comics series, but god damn I think those taught me everything I needed to know about why he rocks the giant blue balls off of a blue-balled baboon.&nbsp; I mean, he\'s a goddamned NINJA COMMANDO who throws shurikens and hand grenades and who is just as likely to fly through the air and slash your face off as he is to empty an entire clip of ammo into you - What the hell else do you need?!</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/snakeyes1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<table style=\"width: 50%;\" align=\"center\">\r\n<tbody>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><span><span>\"He\'s generally regarded as the primo-baddest dude of all the G.I. Joes.&nbsp; When we need somebody to sneak up on a class A major bad guy and pop a can of butt-kick on him, Snake Eyes is the man for the job.&nbsp; The bad guy could be in a fortress on top of a sheer cliff, but that wouldn\'t bother him at all.&nbsp; He\'d just shimmy his way up the cliff face until he cornered the culprit and took him down!\"</span></span>\r\n<p align=\"center\">- From Snake Eyes\' 1991 File Card</p>\r\n</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n</tbody>\r\n</table>\r\n<p><br /><br /></p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Snake-Eyes\" target=\"blank\">His *retardedly* in-depth Wikipedia entry</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.yojoe.com/action/82/snakeeyes.shtml\" target=\"blank\">Snake-Eyes at yojoe.com</a></p>','2007-04-27','74938112321','snakeyes.jpg','snakeyes - Copy.jpg','Snake Eyes','A GI Joe so awesome they had to put testicles on the action figure.',''),('Jalaluddin Muhammad Akbar','January 27, 1556','October 25, 1605','Umerkot, Sindh, Pakistan','16th-century Pakistani General','<p>Jalaluddin Muhammad Akbar was born in India in 1543, the son of the Mughal Emperor Humayun, the grandson of the badass Emperor&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/babur.html\" target=\"blank\">Babur</a>, and the descendant of the merciless warlord&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/tamerlane.html\" target=\"blank\">Timur</a>.&nbsp; Well despite having the solid lineage and the lofty title of \"Great Mughal Emperor\", Humayun was in some deep shit at this time.&nbsp; He had just got his ass kicked by some jackass warlord named Sher Shah and his Afghani hordes, and was currently hiding in exile in a small province of what is now present-day Pakistan.&nbsp; Though he was technically a Prince, Akbar was raised in the harsh climes of Pakistan and Afghanistan where he learned badass manly things like hunting and fighting, and was able take care of himself.&nbsp; It would be training that would serve him well, because he was going to need to grow up in a hurry.</p>\r\n<p>Humayun eventually headed off to Persia for a little bit before returning to India with a bigass army and recapturing his land from Sher Shah.&nbsp; Akbar moved to the sweet ass city of Delhi to be with his family.&nbsp; Unfortunately, one day in 1556 Emperor Humayun was running to go pray to Allah when all of a sudden he tripped, fell down the stairs like a dumbass and died.&nbsp; It may surprise you to find that he was not protected at the bottom of the stairs.&nbsp; And just like that the 13 year-old Akbar was the ruler of the Mughal Empire.</p>\r\n<p>Now when I was thirteen, I think I was spending all my free time playing rec-league basketball and trying to beat Super Mario Brothers 3.&nbsp; This guy was ruling a country.&nbsp; Akbar had the common sense to know that the greatest threat to his power were the sons of the now-dead Sher Shah so, guided by his capable regent Bairam Khan, Akbar marshaled his armies and set out to kick some ass.</p>\r\n<p>Akbar marched across Hindustan winning battle after battle, mostly thanks to his large contingent of 1,500 war elephants (one of the most badass military units ever invented).&nbsp; Unfortunately, while Akbar and Bairam Khan were wandering around Hindustan whomping balls some jerk named Hemu decided to incite a revolt, put an army together, and capture Delhi behind Akbar\'s back.&nbsp; When Akbar was informed of this, his generals told him all was lost and that his best option was to cry like a schoolgirl, retreat to Kabul with his tail between his legs and regroup.&nbsp; Well Akbar was like \"fuck that\" and ordered his men to turn around and teach Hemu a lesson one what it feels like to be force-fed your own scrotum.</p>\r\n<p>At the Second Battle of Panipat, Akbar\'s men faced a much larger rebel army under the command of Hemu.&nbsp; Well right when things were starting to look bleak, a freak arrow came flying in and nailed Hemu right in his fucking eye.&nbsp; When their leader went down, the rebel army broke and were crushed by the Mughal forces.&nbsp; Hemu was brought before Akbar, who promptly beheaded him.&nbsp; Abkar also threw a shout-out to&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/tamerlane.html\" target=\"blank\">Tamerlane</a>&nbsp;and built a huge pillar of human skulls to not only commemorate his victory but to stand as a testament to what happens if you try to fuck with him.</p>\r\n<p>After the success at Panipat, Akbar took his army and finished off Sher Shah\'s sons.&nbsp; By the age of fifteen Akbar had solidified control of the entire Hindustan region, a jurisdiction which would remain for three centuries.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/akbar1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />Akbar:&nbsp; It\'s a trap!</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Once he reached the age that he no longer required a regent, Akbar sent Bairam Khan off on the Hajj to Mecca.&nbsp; Unfortunately while he was on his way out of town Bairam ran into an Afgani man who was understandably a little pissed off that Bairam had killed a shitload of his people, so he shivved him to death with a spoon.&nbsp; Them\'s the breaks sometimes.&nbsp; With BK dead, Akbar appointed his foster brother (and blood cousin) Adham Khan general of the Mughal Army, charging him with expanding the Empire\'s borders.&nbsp; Adham Khan immediately marched out for Malawa in 1561, using his numerically superior numbers to obliterate Malawan Sultan Baz Bahadur\'s army and conquering the capital city of Sarangpur.</p>\r\n<p>Well once the Mughals rolled into Sarangpur shit got ugly real fast.&nbsp; Adham Khan and his generals got really high on opium, booze and prescription cold medicine, pillaged the town, slaughtered religious leaders, terrorized the citizenry, and ravaged and butchered the Sultan\'s harem of hot babes.&nbsp; Akbar, like any true badass worth his leather jacket, believed that there is nothing more cowardly and dishonorable than the massacre of innocent people (especially when they\'re hot babes), so he got really fucking ripshit pissed, punched Adham Khan in the face, and then had him thrown from the highest parapet in the city.&nbsp; When the stupid bastard didn\'t die, Akbar had him carried back up to the top and chucked off again.</p>\r\n<p>Not to say that Akbar was just this land-snatching, elephant-riding conqueror who enjoyed throwing Princes off of tall buildings though.&nbsp; Akbar was in fact the most tolerant of all the Mughal rulers of India.&nbsp; He abolished the Jizya (a tax on all non-Muslims), allowed freedom of religion, supported interfaith marriages, and made it legal for people of different belief systems to perform business transactions with one another.&nbsp; He also fostered civilized religious debate, opening up a hall where Shi\'as, Sunnis, Hindus, Christians, Zoroastrianas, Jains, Buddhists, and Sufis could engage in open discourse about their respective faiths, something which before this time period was pretty much unheard of.&nbsp; Though he was a Muslim, he did not have any compunction about promoting Hindus to positions of power and nobility within the government, and didn\'t hold non-Muslims to the Shari\'a (Islamic Code of Law), instead allowing them to govern themselves according to their belief systems.</p>\r\n<p>He also abolished slavery, ended child marriage (because it\'s gross), and forbade the practice of sati (a traditional Hindu custom in which widows were forced to throw themselves on their husband\'s funeral pyre).&nbsp; Akbar thought it was a shame to have so many chicks burning themselves to death, and I have to say that\'s probably a good decision.&nbsp; He also reformed the bureaucracy and tax laws, and battled corruption wherever he could.</p>\r\n<p>His people considered him to be a benevolent and wise ruler.&nbsp; He was believed to be dyslexic and never learned to read, but he had is courtesans read him all of the classics so he would know what was up.&nbsp; He studied religion, the arts, literature, music and science; had scribes write comprehensive works on those subjects; and brought forth a golden age of wealth, happiness, intellectualism, and political stability.&nbsp; He was loved and respected by all of his subjects, which is bitchin.</p>\r\n<p>Throughout his reign he consolidated and expanded his Empire through conquest and diplomacy.&nbsp; His military forces marched on Malawa, Gujarat, Bengal, Kabul, Kashmir, and Kandesh, stretching his empire from the Himalayas to the Deccan plateau.&nbsp; He loved babes and married 5,000 women of all different nationalities and religions, ranging from Armenian Catholic hotties to Rajput princesses, and states he didn\'t crush to death with his giant dong were allied to him through marriage or statesmanship.&nbsp; At the time of his death in 1605 he had constructed the greatest empire in the world, ruling over a nation of 140 million people at a time when the entire population of Europe numbered about 40 million.&nbsp; He kicked ass, he took names, and he proved himself as an honorable badass.</p>\r\n<p>Probably the most telling aspect of his badassitude is this:&nbsp; The Arabic word \"Akbar\" literally translates to \"Great\".&nbsp; So the English translation of his name essentially means \"Great The Great\".</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/akbar2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />What up.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Akbar\" target=\"blank\">Wikipedia</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.wsu.edu/~dee/MUGHAL/AKBAR.HTM\" target=\"blank\">The Mughals: Akbar</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.boloji.com/history/011.htm\" target=\"blank\">Akbar the Great</a></p>','2007-04-20','30537534113','akbar_new.jpg','akbar_new - Copy.jpg','Akbar the Great','Indian emperor who un-fucked a lot of India.','\"A monarch should be ever intent on conquest,\r\nlest his neighbours rise in arms against him.\"\r\n\r\n- Akbar the Great'),('Juan Pajota','N/A','1976','Philipines','WWII Filippino Guerilla','<p>In April 1942 shit was looking pretty goddamned bleak for the American soldiers stationed in the Philippines.&nbsp; The Japanese had already blown the shit out of everything at Pearl Harbor a few months back, and now the bastards were in the middle of launching full-scale amphibious invasions of islands all through the Pacific, concentrating the vast majority of their ninja ass-kicking powers on the tiny Commonwealth of the Philippines.&nbsp; Though the US and Filipino troops outnumbered the Japs, the defenders were heavily outgunned, suffering from all sorts of fucked-up diseases like malaria and dysentery, and ultimately were caught completely unprepared for the Imperial Japanese onslaught of tiny fists and samurai swords.&nbsp; The Allies fought hard, but ultimately the Japanese overpowered their defenses, capturing 75,000 prisoners of war and seizing control of the island nation in a campaign that lasted for several months.</p>\r\n<p>Well the Imperial Japanese warrior, who had been forged in fire and steel through thousands of years of badass Samurai and Bushido tradition, weren\'t really expecting to take custody of 75,000 weak, starving, fatigued and diseased prisoners.&nbsp; In Japanese culture they believed that every man\'s duty was to fight to the death no matter what - never surrender, never give up, and they were a little shocked and horrified that so many soldiers would be willing to surrender rather than die painfully at the receiving end of a bullet:</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<table style=\"width: 70%;\" align=\"center\">\r\n<tbody>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><em>\"They believed that it was the ultimate shame, to fall into enemy hands, you were supposed to save the last round of ammunition for yourself, under no circumstances put yourself in a situation where you would be taken... This attitude influenced the way they, in turn, treated American POWs. They were beneath contempt.\"</em>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><span>- Hampton Sides, Author, \"Ghost Soldiers\"</span></p>\r\n</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n</tbody>\r\n</table>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Not only did the Japanese not have the provisions, supplies, or logistical means to take care of these POWs, but they didn\'t have the desire to either.&nbsp; Over the next three years, two-thirds of the prisoners taken during the Philippines Campaign would die, many of them on the gruesome Bataan Death March in 1942 where fifteen thousand men died in the span of a few days from exhaustion, disease, and execution by Imperial soldiers.&nbsp; Survivors were put into prison camps like the one at Cabanatuan, were men were worked until death and given next to nothing in terms of food and medical supplies.&nbsp; It was like Abu Gharib and Guantanimo on fucking steroids.</p>\r\n<p>Well as you probably know, after the shit his the fan in the Philippines and Pearl Harbor the Americans did what Americans do best - they got &uuml;ber fucking pissed off and started blowing shit up all over the motherfucking place.&nbsp; During the War in the Pacific, US soldiers and Marines went from island to island kicking asses and taking names.&nbsp; Finally, in late 1944, after three hard years of some of the most bitter fighting ever recorded in human history they were able to launch an invasion to retake the Philippines from Japanese hands and save these POWs from the horrors of their prison camps.</p>\r\n<p>But the Japanese weren\'t in the mood to let that shit fly.&nbsp; The last thing they needed were a bunch of pissed-off POWs coming after them with machine guns, so in August of 1944 they issued the \"Kill-All\" prisoner of war policy, ordering all Japanese prison guards to execute American POWs rather than let them fall into US hands:</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<table style=\"width: 70%;\" align=\"center\">\r\n<tbody>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><em>\"Whether they are destroyed individually or in groups or however it is done, with mass bombing, poisonous smoke, poisons, drowning, decapitation, or what, dispose of them as the situation dictates... In any case it is the aim not to allow the escape of a single one, to annihilate them all, and not to leave any traces.\"</em>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><span>- The Japanese \"Kill-All\" Prisoner of War Policy</span></p>\r\n</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n</tbody>\r\n</table>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Um, holy shit.&nbsp; That\'s pretty motherfucking fucked up.&nbsp; What\'s worse is that this order was actually put into effect at the Japanese prison camp at Palawan on 14 December 1944, when 150 American prisoners were herded into air raid shelters, doused with airplane fuel and set on fire.&nbsp; Survivors were then shot by Japanese soldiers.</p>\r\n<p>When American High Command found out about this from the three men who actually survived the slaughter by jumping off a cliff into the ocean and swimming to safety like balls-out hardcore motherfuckers, they decided they needed to get the 500+ soldiers at the Cabanatuan prison camp out of there before they suffered a similar fate.&nbsp; They had a crack team of special forces ready to roll - a newly-formed organization known as the Army Rangers under the command of Lt. Col. Henry Mucci - but they needed to find a way to get those men to a prison camp located 30 miles behind enemy lines, and they had to find a way of doing it without alerting the Japanese to their movements.&nbsp; That\'s where Captain Juan Pajota of the USAFFE guerillas came in.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/pajota1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Pajota was a hardass motherfucker from Nueva Ecija, Philippines.&nbsp; When the Filipino and American forces surrendered at Bataan, he decided he wasn\'t going to sit around like a bitch and watch his country get fucked in the ass by the Japanese.&nbsp; He joined a Filipino guerilla outfit and started launching raids on Japanese positions all over the place, setting shit on fire and kicking asses.&nbsp; He proved himself to be such a badass to his superiors that he was promoted to Captain of the guerillas in Nueva Ecija Province (his home and the same province as the Cabanatuan camp), where he made it his fucking business to know every person, place, and thing in the entire province.&nbsp; He had eyes and hands in every village.&nbsp; He had intimate knowledge of the terrain, was constantly aware of even the most minor of Japanese troop movements, had undercover operatives everywhere, and possessed the natural leadership ability necessary to run such a tight, secretive organization.&nbsp; When the Americans wanted to bust their boys out of the jungle prison like a goddamned Chuck Norris movie, Pajota was the only man they could turn to.&nbsp; He didn\'t disappoint.</p>\r\n<p>In January 1945 Pajota and his men met with the 127 Alamo Scouts from the U.S. Army\'s 6th Ranger Battalion.&nbsp; He used his knowledge of the land and the trust he had earned from the local villagers to sneak these soldiers deep into enemy lines.&nbsp; They traveled on back roads to avoid Japanese patrols.&nbsp; They slept in peoples\' huts in the barrios and villages across the Island.&nbsp; Pajota had his men tie strips of bamboo over the muzzles of village dogs to prevent them from barking at the unfamiliar Americans, out of fear that this would arouse Japanese suspicions.&nbsp; After several days of traveling, Pajota had the Americans in striking distance of the camp.</p>\r\n<p>Pajota\'s Guerillas collected valuable intel on the camp and on Japanese troop positions, so the Americans knew exactly what they were going to be up against.&nbsp; When it was time to decide the plan of attack, Pajota was integral to the success of the mission from a strategic standpoint as well as a logistical one.&nbsp; He convinced Col. Mucci that an attack on January 29th (the originally-planned date) would be suicide because he was certain the Japanese would be moving many troops that day.&nbsp; He was right.&nbsp; He came up with a plan for evacuating the wounded and sick from the camp, and devised a plan to help distract the Japanese soldiers so the Rangers to get close to the camp.&nbsp; On January 30th, the plan went into action.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/pajota2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />Pajota\'s Guerillas marching to the battle.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Two teams of US Army Rangers were to assault the camp from two different directions, while Pajota and his guerillas were to defend the bridge over the Cabu River.&nbsp; While the camp itself was relatively lightly guarded, a large force of 8,000 Japanese was camped on the far side of the river.&nbsp; Pajota knew this would be trouble for the Americans, so he volunteered his men to defend the bridge and hold off the Japanese counterattack as long as possible.&nbsp; Pajota got his men into position, wired the bridge with explosives, and prepared for a fight.</p>\r\n<p>He didn\'t wait long.&nbsp; The Rangers got into position, crawling through light vegetation towards the camp.&nbsp; As Pajota had planned, a US plane buzzed the camp to help divert the Japanese attention and let the Americans get into position.&nbsp; Once everything was set, the Americans began pouring fire into the Japanese defenders.&nbsp; The Rangers quickly overwhelmed the defenders at the camp and rescued 513 US prisoners of war from what would have been near-certain death.&nbsp; The men who were too weak, sick, or wounded to walk out under their own power were loaded up onto wooden carts which were pulled by water buffalos and driven by Filipino villagers procured by Pajota and his men.&nbsp; In the span of twenty-two minutes the fighting at Cabanuan was over and the rescued prisoners were on their way to freedom.</p>\r\n<p>But this was just the beginning for Pajota and his troops.&nbsp; As soon as the firing started, the Japanese began to swarm over the bridge.&nbsp; Pajota detonated the explosives, but this failed to bring down the entire structure.&nbsp; Luckily the bridge was damaged to the point that no Japanese tanks could safely cross it, but this didn\'t prevent wave after wave of Japanese Imperial Infantry from launching numerous balls-out suicide charges into Filipino positions like Zapp Brannigan facing the Killbots.&nbsp; Pajota and his men bore the full brunt of the Japanese counterattack and despite being heavily outnumbered they were able to hold their ground.&nbsp; One Filipino soldier trained in the use of a bazooka was even able to take out four Japanese tanks during the battle.</p>\r\n<p>The Filipino guerillas covered the US evacuation until they were certain the Americans had reached a safe distance before falling back themselves.&nbsp; During the course of the fighting, 21 Filipinos were wounded and 4 Americans were killed, while 523 Japanese soldiers were killed or wounded.</p>\r\n<p>Juan Pajota and his men played an integral role in saving the lives of 513 American soldiers from what would probably have been a grisly and horrific death.&nbsp; Pajota was the one who made everything possible, thanks in a large part to his invaluable intelligence-gathering abilities, knowledge of the land, numerous contacts, and his ability to inspire an indomitable fighting prowess in his men.&nbsp; He was a hero.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/pajota3.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<table style=\"width: 70%;\" align=\"center\">\r\n<tbody>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><em>\"The Guerrillas were our flanking protection at the Cabu River, which was no more than a mile from the camp... there was a sizable force of Japanese, but Pajota and his men just killed everything in sight that came up that river and across the bridge. They were the ones that kept this thing from being a tough deal for us.\"</em>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><span>- Cpt. Robert Prince, 6th Ranger Battalion, US Army</span></p>\r\n</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n</tbody>\r\n</table>\r\n<p><br /><br /></p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/amex/bataan/peopleevents/p_pajota.html\" target=\"blank\">The American Experience: Bataan Rescue</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raid_at_Cabanatuan\" target=\"blank\">The Raid at Cabanatuan</a></p>','2007-04-13','93415446457','pajota_new.jpg','pajota_new - Copy.jpg','Juan Pajota','Filipino guerilla fighter who freed a shit load of American POW\'s from a Japanese camp.',''),('Jose Mendoza Lopez','July 10, 1910','May 16, 2005','Santiago Huitlan, Guatemala','WWII American Soldier','<p>Jose Mendoza Lopez was born on 10 July 1910 in Mexico and was raised in Vera Cruz by his mother.&nbsp; His father had died at sea while Jose was still in the womb, and by his 9th birthday his mother had died of tuberculosis, leaving him orphaned and alone.&nbsp; His relatives weren\'t able to take care of him, so he headed off on his own to try and find a better life in America.&nbsp; He snuck across the border and settled in the town of Mission, Texas, where a family was nice enough to give him some food and let him sleep out in their tool shed until he got his feet under him.</p>\r\n<p>Nothing in life was easy for Jose.&nbsp; He had no worldly possessions to speak of, and worked subsistence jobs to try and keep his head above water and food on his table.&nbsp; Later he took to riding the rails of this country looking for opportunity and adventure.&nbsp; When he was 17, he found a little of both.&nbsp; He was just hanging out in Atlanta minding his own business when all of a sudden some big cro-magnon behemoth jackass started talking smack to him.&nbsp; Despite being only 5\'5\" and 130lbs, Jose Lopez wasn\'t the sort of badass who was going to let anyone fuck with him, no matter how big he was.&nbsp; Jose got nose-to-nose with the guy and was all like, \"hey bitch why don\'t you say that so that&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/stmichael.html\" target=\"blank\">San Miguel</a>&nbsp;and San Gabriel can hear you?\", nodding to his clenched fists.&nbsp; The guy pressed his luck and the next thing he knew he was getting his fucking ass kicked by Lopez.</p>\r\n<p>As luck would have it, one of the bystanders watching the beatdown just so happened to be a boxing promoter.&nbsp; After Jose was finished pummeling the fuck out of that jackass, the promoter came up to him and recruited him into the world of professional boxing.&nbsp; The newly-dubbed \"Kid Mendoza\" went 52-3 in his boxing career - pretty fucking respectable numbers, and proof that he was not someone to mess with.</p>\r\n<p>Eventually Kid Mendoza decided he wasn\'t really interested in getting paid to beat dumbasses about the head and neck anymore, so he quit boxing and enlisted in the U.S. Merchant Marines in 1936.&nbsp; He had several seafaring misadventures, including one time when he was stranded at sea for several weeks on a cargo boat with only bananas to eat.</p>\r\n<p>After several ordeals on the high seas, Lopez decided it was safer on dry land.&nbsp; He enlisted in the Army at the start of World War II, was trained to be a squad machine gunner and shipped out for Europe to help the Allies fuck Hitler in the ass.&nbsp; On 7 June 1944 he landed on the beaches at Normandy and promptly had a German bullet ricochet off his ammo belt.&nbsp; He didn\'t give a fuck though.&nbsp; He fought bravely throughout the Normandy Campaign, but his legend would be made in the Ardennes Forest in December 1944 during the Battle of the Bulge.</p>\r\n<p>On 17 December Lopez was stationed outside the Belgian town of Krinkelt as part of Company K of the 23rd U.S. Infantry Division.&nbsp; He had been assigned to protect Co. K\'s right flank from a potential German attack, and set up his Browning .30 caliber m1919 machine gun in a fortified foxhole.&nbsp; But the attack wouldn\'t come on the Company\'s right.</p>\r\n<p>Fighting started on the left side of the line, so PVT Lopez packed up his 30+ pound machine gun and rushed over there to help prevent his unit from being flanked by the Germans.&nbsp; He leapt into a shallow hole that exposed everything from his waist up to enemy fire, set up his gun, and started spraying bullets at the advancing Nazi soldiers.&nbsp; He dropped several of them, when all of a sudden he saw a goddamned Tiger I tank rolling through the forest towards him with several squads of infantry supporting it.&nbsp; Lopez knew he didn\'t have the firepower to deal with the tank, so despite his almost complete lack of cover he continued to concentrate his fire on the advancing infantry, cutting them down in droves while the rest of Lopez\'s company fell back to the town to fortify defensive positions there.&nbsp; A group of Germans attempted to flank Lopez\'s machine gun nest, but he was able to reposition his gun and neutralize this threat as well.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/lopez2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />U.S. gunners with a .30 cal Browning like the one Lopez was using.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Fire continued to pour into Jose\'s position, this time coming from a group of soldiers attempting to flank him on the right.&nbsp; To further complicate things, the Tiger had turned it\'s attention towards him, and now the Krauts were calling artillery down on his position.&nbsp; Despite being knocked over by an artillery shell, Jose Lopez managed to pick up his weapon and fall back to another defensive position where he once again opened fire on the advancing Germans, buying time for his men to retreat.&nbsp; Tanks and soldiers continued to fire on him, and at one point the Tiger\'s main gun threw a shell so close to him that it knocked him over and gave him a concussion.&nbsp; This wasn\'t going to hold Jose Motherfucking Lopez back though;&nbsp; He immediately reset his gun and continued firing at the endless German onslaught.&nbsp; Once all of his men had reached the safety of the town, and he had exhausted all of his ammunition, Lopez fell back to town to re-supply.</p>\r\n<p>The Germans knew what was up.&nbsp; They bypassed the town and continued their push towards Antwerp, convinced that they didn\'t want any more of what Lopez had to offer them.&nbsp; He had single-handedly saved his Company from being overrun by intensely superior numbers.&nbsp; His final kill count during the battle was estimated at just over one hundred enemy soldiers.</p>\r\n<p>For his actions in the Ardennes Forest, Lopez was promoted to Sergeant awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor for what the Army dubbed \"undergoing seemingly suicidal missions\".&nbsp; He fought until the end of the war, and served in Korea before finally retiring in 1973.&nbsp; He continued a regimen of jogging every day and saw a personal trainer three times a week until he was 88 years old, because he knew that he needed to keep his badass physique.&nbsp; He had five children and was married for 64 years before dying of cancer on 18 May 2005 at the age of 94.</p>\r\n<p>Jose Lopez was a true American badass.&nbsp; The man came from humble beginnings, worked for everything he had, and proved himself a hero when the time came for him to save his friends.&nbsp; He battled fiercely, won the United States\' top honor for bravery, and was only bested in physical hand-to-hand combat three times in his entire life.&nbsp; He was awesome.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/lopez1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><em>\"Fear is the one thing that will hold you back in life.\"</em><br /><br /><span>- Jose M. Lopez</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.homeofheroes.com/moh/citations_living/ii_a_lopez.html\" target=\"blank\">Medal of Honor Citation</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.medalofhonor.com/JoseLopez.htm\" target=\"blank\">Biography at Medalofhonor.com</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://vernondent.blogspot.com/2005/05/hero-passes.html\" target=\"blank\">Obituary</a></p>','2007-04-06','60174929215','lopez_new.jpg','lopez_new - Copy.jpg','Jose M. Lopez','Single-handedly killed a dickload of Germans with a machine gun during WWII.',''),('John Paul Jones','July 6, 1747','July 18, 1792','Kirkcudbrightshire, Scotland','18th-century American Admiral','<p>John Paul Jones was born in Scotland in 1747, got a job as a ship\'s mate at the age of 12, and would go on to become one of the greatest Naval war heroes in our nation\'s history, forever known as \"The Father of the American Navy\".</p>\r\n<p>From an early age, Jones had a fascination with ships and sailing.&nbsp; He spent his teenage years traveling the Atlantic on merchant and slaver ships, learning the ropes and developing his skills as a seaman.&nbsp; However, he eventually became disgusted with the inhumane treatment and cruelty inherent in the slave trade and decided that even though he was making a fuckton of money in the human trafficking business, he couldn\'t continue it in good conscience.&nbsp; While one of the slave ships he was working on was put to port in Jamaica he resigned his post, because true badasses don\'t put up with shit they don\'t agree with even if it means they get a wheelbarrow full of money for doing it.</p>\r\n<p>Jones then went out and got a job on the brig&nbsp;<em>John</em>, and quickly took over command of the ship when both the captain and the first mate died of like scurvy or were eaten by sharks or something.&nbsp; Jones\' navigational skill so impressed the ship\'s owners that when he arrived in port they appointed him Ship Master of the&nbsp;<em>John</em>&nbsp;(which kind of sounds like \"King of the Crapper\", but rest assured that this was actually a very high honor).</p>\r\n<p>Shit was going pretty well for JPJ until he put into port in Tobago in 1773.&nbsp; While they were sailing into town one of Jones\' asshole crewmen was being a total jackoff so Jones had him tied to the mast and flogged like a little bitch.&nbsp; Well apparently Jones harnessed his \"Get Pissed\" powers a little too well and got a little bit overzealous, because the poor bastard ended up dying from his wounds.&nbsp; With his good name tarnished by accusations of cruelty and murder, J.P. did what any good outlaw Brit scumbag worth his lime juice did back in the 18th century - he bolted for the American colonies.</p>\r\n<p>Jones settled down in Fredericksburg, Virginia, where he lived at his rich brother\'s posh estate.&nbsp; This was pretty sweet for a while, but guys like JPJ aren\'t really content to sit around on their asses when they should be out on a ship\'s deck somewhere hacking pirates\' arms off with a cutlass and busting Merfolk in the face with unexploded cannonballs.&nbsp; Luckily for our hero, some serious shit was going down in the colonies in 1775 and JPJ was just in time for the fireworks.</p>\r\n<p>You see, it was about this time that the colonies decided they were sick of paying taxes and thought the best way to solve that problem was to kill a bunch of British people.&nbsp; So they did.&nbsp; Unfortunately, they quickly realized that the Brits had a hugeass fucking &uuml;ber-powerful Navy that struck fear and awe into the hearts of all who would dare oppose her, while the colonials only had about a half-dozen fishing boats, two pairs of Water Wings and a really tall lighthouse.&nbsp; If their revolution was going to be successful, they were going to need ships, and men to command those ships.&nbsp; So they turned to guys like John Paul Jones, who were more than a little eager to hoist the mainsail and start laying down broadsides like a DJ drops phat beats.</p>\r\n<p>Jones volunteered to join the fledgeling Continental Navy and was given the prestigious title of Senior First Lieutenant.&nbsp; He was the first man to hoist a United States Naval Ensign over a US vessel, the 30-Gun&nbsp;<em>Alfred</em>, on which he served as second-in-command, sort of like William Riker or Mr. Spock.&nbsp; The&nbsp;<em>Alfred</em>&nbsp;spent the first months of the war sailing up and down the East Coast sacking and plundering British merchant vessels as they tried to deliver supplies to the Redcoats.&nbsp; These raids were largely successful and were highly effective at pissing off the Brits.</p>\r\n<p>Having proved himself worth his sea salts, Jones was given command of the 12-Gun Sloop&nbsp;<em>Providence</em>&nbsp;and sent out by Congress to kick asses and take names.&nbsp; Jones did this quite efficiently, capturing sixteen British vessels in a six-week time span and generally wreaking havoc on the British Navy like a pissed-off pirate with his hit-and-run tactics and general badassery.&nbsp; On 2 November 1776 he assaulted the British Coal Fleet at Isle Royale, destroying a large portion of the fleet, liberating a handful of American POW\'s who were being held on the island, and capturing a British Merchantman vessel laden with a cockload of winter clothing, snowboards and ski pants intended for the British troops stationed in Canada and New York.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/johnpauljones4.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>On the heels of his success as Captain of the&nbsp;<em>Providence</em>, Jones was given command of the 18-Gun Frigate&nbsp;<em>Ranger</em>&nbsp;and sent to France to help the U.S. cause there.&nbsp; He headed for Paris, spent his nights getting wasted and hitting up the pubs with his good buddy and fellow badass Ben Franklin, and lived the good life while the French decided whether or not they were going to help us kick some Limey ass.</p>\r\n<p>Once France officially joined the war on the side of the Americans, Jones immediately took the crew of the&nbsp;<em>Ranger</em>&nbsp;and headed for mainland England.&nbsp; As he departed,&nbsp;<em>Ranger</em>&nbsp;received a formal military salute from the French fleet, marking the first time a United States vessel had ever been officially saluted by a foreign warship.&nbsp; He proceeded to assault the British town of Whitehaven in the middle of the night in a daring raid where he and sixteen other dudes sailed into town on two rowboats and set fire to the fleet that was stationed there.&nbsp; Following this, he raided the private estate of the Earl of Selkirk, which was fucking balls-out to the max.&nbsp; He hoped to capture the Earl and ransom him in exchange for U.S. sailors that had been impressed into British service, but when JPJ and his minions arrived at the estate they found he was out of town on a business trip or something.&nbsp; So John and his guys sat down and had a nice cup of afternoon tea with the Earl\'s wife before stealing a set of silver dishes and re-boarding&nbsp;<em>Ranger</em>.&nbsp; Jones would later return these dishes to the Countess with a letter of apology because it\'s really just bad form to rip off someone who invited you in for tea and conversation.</p>\r\n<p>With quite a bit of passive-aggressive shit taken care of on the British Isles,&nbsp;<em>Ranger</em>&nbsp;headed back to France to resupply.&nbsp; On the way back however, Jones came across the 20-Gun British Sloop-of-War&nbsp;<em>HMS Drake</em>.&nbsp; The two warships engaged, and in a fierce one-hour battle the&nbsp;<em>Ranger</em>&nbsp;won victory over the&nbsp;<em>Drake</em>, killing forty men (including the captain) and capturing the vessel.&nbsp; News of this victory bolstered American spirits, as it was the first successful battle fought by American forces in English waters, and was the Continental Navy\'s first military victory over a British warship.</p>\r\n<p>When Jones returned to France he was given command of the&nbsp;<em>USS Bonhomme Richard</em>, a French Merchantmant that had been refitted as a 42-Gun Frigate, and was put in charge of a small squadron of U.S. warships.&nbsp; It was aboard the&nbsp;<em>Bonhomme Richard</em>&nbsp;that Jones would participate in the battle that would make his legend.</p>\r\n<p>On 23 September 1779,&nbsp;<em>Bonhomme Richard</em>&nbsp;came across a fleet of around forty British Merchantmen being escorted by the 44-Gun Frigate&nbsp;<em>Serapis</em>and the 28-Gun&nbsp;<em>Countess of Scarborough</em>.&nbsp; Jones ordered his ships on the attack, and the&nbsp;<em>Bonhomme Richard</em>&nbsp;and the&nbsp;<em>Serapis</em>&nbsp;closed and became involved in a brutal Frazier-and-Ali style old-school life-or-death face-smashing brawl.&nbsp; Devastating broadsides from&nbsp;<em>Serapis</em>&nbsp;blew apart the<em>Bonhomme Richard</em>\'s sides, knocking out several of her main deck cannons and crippling the ship.&nbsp; Jones fired back with broadsides of his own, but continued fire from the larger and more heavily-armed&nbsp;<em>Serapis</em>&nbsp;raked his ship, driving in his counters and quarters, forcing him to abandon all of his lower-deck guns, and catching&nbsp;<em>Bonhomme Richard</em>&nbsp;on fire in several places.&nbsp; At one point in the battle, a volley from&nbsp;<em>Serapis</em>&nbsp;blew a large portion of the&nbsp;<em>Bonhomme Richard</em>\'s mast off, causing Captain Pearson of&nbsp;<em>Serapis</em>&nbsp;to ask whether Jones had struck his colors in surrender.&nbsp; Jones took a look at the burning wreckage of his crippled warship, which taking on water and littered with dead bodies, set his jaw, and declared:</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><em>\"Surrender?!&nbsp; I have not yet begun to fight!\"</em></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/johnpauljones1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Jones then rammed&nbsp;<em>Serapis</em>&nbsp;with&nbsp;<em>Bonhomme Richard</em>, fouling both ships together.&nbsp;&nbsp;<em>Serapis</em>&nbsp;attemped to pull away from the&nbsp;<em>Bonhomme Richard</em>&nbsp;so she could bring the full might of her artillery to bear on the almost-defenseless American ship, but Jones threw hooks over the side and lashed the two ships together.&nbsp; His desperate men poured musket fire and hurled hand grenades at the&nbsp;<em>Serapis</em>\' deck, setting fire to the ship and inflicting heavy casualties.&nbsp; A large contingent of British marines forward in an attempt to board the American vessel, but Jones was able to repulse the boarding party before leading a group of his own men over to&nbsp;<em>Serapis</em>, where he was able to capture the vessel and effect her surrender.</p>\r\n<p>By the time the sun set that night, both ships were crippled, had lost over half of their men and were on fire in numerous places.&nbsp;&nbsp;<em>Bonhomme Richard</em>&nbsp;had to be abandoned the following morning when attempts to bail several feet of water out of her hold proved fruitless.</p>\r\n<p>For his success in this heated battle against a British ship-of-the-line, John Paul Jones was knighted by King Louis of France and given a kickass<em>Gold-Plated Sword of Pirate Slaying +4</em>.&nbsp; He also received the order of Military Merit from the French government and was issued a special Medal of Valor by the United States Continental Congress in 1787.&nbsp; The Brits still thought of him as little better than a pirate and a motherfucker.</p>\r\n<p>Since the US didn\'t have a whole lot of sweet wars going on in the late 1780s, JPJ headed over to Russia and went into service for Empress Catherine II, where he took the name \"Pavel Dzhones\" - presumably because it sort-of rhymes with \"Gravel Cojones\" which is pretty much what he had.&nbsp; Jones was made a Vice Admiral and given command of the Imperial Navy\'s 24-Gun flagship&nbsp;<em>Vladimir</em>.&nbsp; Onboard&nbsp;<em>Vladimir</em>&nbsp;Jones led the Russian defense of the Liman Region of the Black Sea when it came under attack from the Ottoman Turks, and in that campaign he proved himself quite adept at stepping on Turkish nutsacks.&nbsp; For repulsing the Ottoman forces and sending them back to Istanbul with their balls in a vice, Jones was awarded the Order of Saint Anne by the Tsarina.&nbsp; He returned to St. Petersburg to await further orders, but quickly grew tired of the political machinations of the Russian nobility and retired to Paris in 1790.</p>\r\n<p>Jones died in Paris in 1792 and was buried in Saint Louis Cemetary, not far from his home.&nbsp; His remains were later exhumed and returned to the United States with a military escort consisting of several battleships, where he was re-interred at the United States Naval Academy chapel in an awesome sarcophagus modeled after Napoleon\'s coffin.&nbsp; He was buried with full military honors in a ceremony presided over by fellow badass<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/roosevelt.html\" target=\"blank\">Teddy Roosevelt</a>.</p>\r\n<p>I\'ve given a lot of love on this website to American soldiers and Marines, but John Paul Jones was the perfect example of what it means to be a Navy man.&nbsp; He was a cunning strategist, a fearless warrior, and his \"fuck you, never surrender\" attitude exemplifies everything that it means to be badass.&nbsp; He was a true American war hero, and an all-American badass.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/johnpauljones2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><br /><em>\"An honorable Peace is and always was my first wish!&nbsp;<br />I can take no delight in the effusion of human Blood;&nbsp;<br />but, if this War should continue,<br />I wish to have the most active part in it.\"</em></p>\r\n<p><br /><br /><br /></p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://famousamericans.net/johnpauljones/\" target=\"blank\">John Paul Jones at \"Famous Americans\"</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.jpj.demon.co.uk/jpjlife.htm\" target=\"blank\">The Life of John Paul Jones</a></p>','2007-03-30','467123511541','johnpauljones_new.jpg','johnpauljones_new - Copy.jpg','John Paul Jones','The most balls-out naval commander in American history.','\"I wish to have no connection with any ship that does\r\nnot sail fast;  for I intend to go in harm\'s way\"'),('Lucius Quinctius Cincinnatus','519 BCE','430 BCE','Rome','Ancient Roman General','<p>In 458 BCE the fledgeling Roman Republic was in some deep shit.&nbsp; The city was under attack on two fronts by a couple of her ancient enemies, and the vaunted Roman Legions were having difficulty defending the borders simultaneously against two powerful foes.&nbsp; One one side, the Sabines were advancing towards Rome, plundering the countryside and destroying settlements as they went.&nbsp; With the destruction being wrought by the Sabines, the Aequi decided they wanted to get in on the action and launched an invasion from another direction, steadily marching their army towards the City.&nbsp; Besieged on two sides and surrounded by enemy soldiers, the Romans knew they were in trouble.</p>\r\n<p>But it\'s certainly not like Rome to give up without a fight.&nbsp; Two armies were raised by the Senate to deal with these threats;&nbsp; Roman consul Nauticus would take his men to battle the Sabines, while his colleague Minucius would face the Aequi.&nbsp; The men of Rome fought bravely, but while Nauticus was able to gain victories against the Sabines, Minucius did not fare as well.&nbsp; He didn\'t press his attacks when he had the opportunity, and before long the town Minucius\' men were camped in was completely surrounded by the Aequi armies, who laid siege to the defenders in an effort to starve them out.</p>\r\n<p>Knowing that half of Rome\'s standing army was in an engagement they had no chance of winning and were merely clinging to survival, the consul Minucius decided to send five of his fastest riders to Rome to ask for help.&nbsp; These brave men broke through the Aequi blockade and delivered the grim word to the Senate, who heard they were about to get fucked up for rizneal by the Aequi and all collectively crapped their togas.</p>\r\n<p>Despite the bleak situation, the Senators knew they still had one hope.&nbsp; There was a provision in the Roman Law that allowed for the appointment of a position known as Dictator.&nbsp; This position could be filled by the Senate in times of extreme crisis, and the man selected to perform this duty would have absolute, unchecked, unquestioned power over all aspects of the Republic and her armies.&nbsp; It was a risky move, but desperate times called for desperate measures.&nbsp; And the Senate knew just the man for the job.</p>\r\n<p>Lucius Quinctius Cincinnatus was plowing the fields surrounding his humble farm, preparing another set of crops with which to feed his family, when he noticed a small group of riders approaching on the horizon.&nbsp; Cincinnatus recognized some of the men from when he served as consul a few years prior, but could not understand why these important Senators would be visiting him on his quaint farmstead unannounced on this particular day.&nbsp; When the men reached him, they informed him of the dire situation that lay before Rome.&nbsp; The Republic was in great peril, and Cincinnatus was their last hope.&nbsp; He was the only man with the experience and proficiency to lead the Romans to victory over their enemies, and the senate was willing to provide him with supreme power with which to do so.</p>\r\n<p>Cincinnatus listened to the offer and quietly gazed back towards his home, where his wife had come outside to see what was going on and to tell him to pick up some orange juice the next time he went to the store.&nbsp; He knew that leaving the farm on this day would possibly mean death for him and his family, for they would surely perish from starvation if the crops were not sown this season.&nbsp; But he knew it was his duty to protect his people, and he could not turn his back on the Republic.&nbsp; With a heavy heart he kissed his wife and kids goodbye and headed for Rome.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/cincinnatus1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />\"Dude, come wield supreme executive power\"<br />\"No way man, I\'m retired now\"<br />\"Please?\"<br />\"No.\"<br />\"Pretty Please?&nbsp; With sugar on top?\"<br />\"OK, FINE!&nbsp; GOD you senators are so irritating.\"</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Cincinnatus arrived at Rome, assumed the mantle of Dictator and went to work immediately.&nbsp; He appointed his Master of the Horse (second in command), shut down all private business in the City and put the population on Terror Alert Red.&nbsp; He ordered all men of military age to put their weapons and armor together, collect twelve palisades and assemble on the Campus Martius parade ground at dawn the next morning.&nbsp; All the women and men not suited for military service were to get in the kitchen and bake him some fucking pies - preparing five rations for each soon-to-be-soldier in the city.&nbsp; The populace went into action immediately, since none of them are all that keen on having their town pillaged by the fucking Aequi douchebags;&nbsp; especially since that more than likely meant they\'d all be either sold into slavery or slaughtered on the spot.</p>\r\n<p>The following morning Cincinnatus rode out to the Campus Martius and addressed his ragtag group of citizen-soldiers.&nbsp; \"Men,\" he said, \"we are off to kill some motherfuckers.\"&nbsp; And with that they headed out to, well, kill some motherfuckers.</p>\r\n<p>They marched all day, reaching the Aequi siege by nightfall.&nbsp; Cincinnatus instructed his men to encircle the Aequi positions and drive their palisades into the ground with a bigass barbarian yell, which served to intimidate the Aequi and announce the presence of Roman troops to the soldiers trapped in the town.&nbsp; All night and into the morning Cincinnatus\' men built a huge wall encircling the Aequi camp, leaving them encircled and boxed in between two Roman forces.&nbsp; As soon as the wall was completed, Cincinnatus personally led the Roman charge and the battle was on.&nbsp; Minucius\' men poured out the gates of the city and the Aequi, surrounded on two sides, were completely crushed.&nbsp; Within hours of fighting the surviving warriors and leaders threw down their arms at Cincinnatus\' feet.</p>\r\n<p>Cincinnatus didn\'t have any desire to execute these prisoners of war, but he did want to let them know that they couldn\'t get away with trying to start shit with Rome.&nbsp; He built a yoke out of spears, stripped the Aequi of everything except their clothing, and forced them to pass under the yoke.&nbsp; While it doesn\'t really sound like that big of a deal to us today, you should understand that passing under the yoke back in the day was sort of like letting yourself get teabagged by your arch-enemy.&nbsp; It was humiliating and degrading, and you only really allowed yourself to be subjected to it if you had been completely crushed and had no other option.&nbsp; It was a symbolic act of defeat and subjugation, and was basically like admitting that you were someone\'s bitch.</p>\r\n<p>To further add insult to injury Cincinnatus then plundered all the shit that he forced the Aequi to leave behind, dividing all the loot up amongst his men, but not allowing Minucius or his soldiers to partake.&nbsp; Instead he stripped Minucius of his position as consul and gave his men a good old-fashioned ass-reaming, saying:</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<table style=\"width: 60%;\" align=\"center\">\r\n<tbody>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><em>\"You, soldiers will go without your share of the spoil, for you all but fell a spoil yourselves to the enemy from whom it was taken; and you, Minucius, will command these legions as a staff officer, until you begin to show the spirit of a consul.\"</em></td>\r\n</tr>\r\n</tbody>\r\n</table>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>After this, Cincinnatus and his men returned home as heroes.&nbsp; They were greeted at the gates of Rome by a throng of cheering citizens and were given a triumphal ticker-tape procession through the streets of Rome like the one at the end of Star Wars Episode I.&nbsp; Cincinnatus was formally recognized as a hero who had saved Rome from the clutches of her enemies and near-certain defeat, slavery, and death.</p>\r\n<p>With his work completed, Cincinnatus immediately resigned his post as Dictator and returned home to finish working his fields.&nbsp; He had been the supreme ruler of the Roman Republic for only sixteen days.</p>\r\n<p>While this is the most popular story involving Quinctius, it wasn\'t the only time the people of Rome called on him to sort shit out for them.&nbsp; In 439 BCE a dude named Spurius Maelius attempted to incite a revolution amongst the plebians and overthrow the Roman government, so Cincinnatus (who was 80 years old at the time) was again brought in and given Dictatorial power to deal with this motherfucker.&nbsp; He had Maelius whacked, razed the guy\'s home to the ground and then effectively placated the populace with his oratory prowess.&nbsp; Within about a week of being appointed Dictator, he again resigned and returned home to his family.</p>\r\n<p>Lucius Quinctius Cincinnatus was the epitome of honor and personified the Roman ideal of duty to your country and your people above all else.&nbsp; He put aside his own personal needs to serve his homeland, and when absolute military and political authority was given to him, he didn\'t go the power-hungry jackass route and&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/emperor.html\" target=\"blank\">seize control</a>&nbsp;of the government or set himself up as&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/augustus.html\" target=\"blank\">supreme ruler</a>&nbsp;for life - he did his job, kicked some fucking asses and then went home to his family when his work was finished.&nbsp; He single-handedly saved the Roman Republic from falling into the hands of her enemies and his tale served as inspiration for generations of Romans who came after him, illustrating the Roman values of civic responsibility, integrity, and badassitude.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/cincinnatus2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<table style=\"width: 50%;\" align=\"center\">\r\n<tbody>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><em>\"What was wanted was not only a strong man, but one who was free to act, unshackled by the laws.&nbsp; He should therefore nominate Lucius Quinctius as Dictator, for he had the courage and resolution which such great powers demanded.\"</em>\r\n<p align=\"center\">- Livy 4.13</p>\r\n</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n</tbody>\r\n</table>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cincinnatus\" target=\"blank\">Cincinnatus at Wikipedia</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://ancienthistory.about.com/od/rulersleaderskings/p/Cincinnatus.htm\" target=\"blank\">Cincinnatus at About.com</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/etcbin/toccer-new2?id=Liv1His.sgm&amp;images=images/modeng&amp;data=/texts/english/modeng/parsed&amp;tag=public&amp;part=3&amp;division=div1\" target=\"blank\">Livy,&nbsp;<em>Ab Urbe Condita</em>, Book III</a></p>','2007-03-23','347839013558','cincinnatus_new.jpg','cincinnatus_new - Copy.jpg','Cincinnatus','Fixed Rome up real good, and in 16 days flat.','\"It is worth while for those who disdain all human things for money, and who suppose that there is no room either for great honor or virtue, except where wealth is found, to listen to his story.\"\r\n- Livy 3.26'),('Ben Thompson','November 2, 1843','March 11, 1884','Knottingley, West Yorkshire, England','19th-century British Lawman','<p>Ben Thompson was born in Knottingley, Yorkshire, England in 1843 and moved to the frontier town of Austin, Texas while he was still just a wee lad.&nbsp; As a teenager he worked as a printer for the local newspaper, but like any good honest slacker he eventually quit his job and became a professional gambler, which is a far more hardcore profession.</p>\r\n<p>His first brush with badassitude came when he was 17 years old, when he was just hanging out in New Orleans one day when he saw some jackass Pepe Le Pew French bastard harassing a young babe who obviously wanted nothing to do with him.&nbsp; Thompson, being the honorable badass that he was, stepped in to aid this damsel in distress from this foppish prick who kept trying to get her to do degrading stuff in exchange for cheap ten-for-a-dollar strands of plastic beads.&nbsp; He grabbed the dude\'s arm and was all like, \"get your stinking paws off of her, you damn dirty Frenchman!\"&nbsp; Frenchie then whipped out a knife and tried to slash Thompson, but little did he know that Ben Thompson was ALWAYS willing to cross blades with French people.&nbsp; Thompson whipped out his huge fucking Crocodile Dundee Bowie knife, Michael Jackson\'s&nbsp;<em>Beat It</em>&nbsp;started playing in the background and the two guys had a straight-up hardcore back-alley knife fight.&nbsp; It didn\'t take long before Ben had shivved the fuck out of this guy like Gary Sheffield at a County Correctional Institute.&nbsp; The Frenchman was dead and Thompson was acquitted of all charges.</p>\r\n<p>In 1860 Thompson returned to Austin and he and his brother Billy enlisted in Captain&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.lsjunction.com/people/burleson.htm\" target=\"blank\">Edward Burleson</a>\'s Texas Rangers Battalion.&nbsp; They spent the next few months riding around like Cordell Walker and James Trivette, hunting down criminals and fighting against Comanche war parties and Mexican guerillas whenever they launched attacks on American settlements.</p>\r\n<p>When the&nbsp;<a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_Civil_War\" target=\"blank\">War of Northern Aggression</a>&nbsp;broke out in 1861 Ben enlisted in the Confederate Army, serving as a cavalryman throughout the war.&nbsp; During his adventures on the Western Front he was wounded in action three times, he killed a Confederate mess Sergeant in a dispute over something ridiculous, and he shot a teamster who was trying to steal an Army mule - probably while yelling something hilariously clever like, \"that\'s the last ass you\'re ever going to grab!\"&nbsp; He served honorably throughout the war, only taking a couple months off in 1863 so he could go home and get married.</p>\r\n<p>After&nbsp;<a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Appomattox_Court_House\" target=\"blank\">Appomattox</a>&nbsp;Thompson returned home once again, but as is true with many badasses trouble followed him wherever he went.&nbsp; One day some jackass whipped out a shotgun and tried to smoke Thompson, but Ben quick-drawed the ever-loving bejeezus out of him, busting three caps in this guy\'s head.&nbsp; Thompson was arrested and sentenced to hard labor in a Federal pound-me-in-the-ass prison.</p>\r\n<p>Well this wasn\'t going to fly with Ben.&nbsp; He bribed two sergeants to look the other way and then escaped from jail in the middle of the night.&nbsp; He briefly stopped home to see his family before heading off to Mexico, where he served as a mercenary officer in the army of Emperor Maximilian I of Mexico.</p>\r\n<p>Ben fought with the Imperial Army in the civil war that was going down in Mexico at the time, but when Maximilian was arrested and executed by the Mexicans, Ben decided it was time to get the fuck out of town before he faced a similar fate.&nbsp; He returned home to Austin in 1869 only to hear a rumor that Ben\'s good-for-nothing cock of a brother-in-law had gotten really drunk one night and beat the shit out of Ben\'s pregnant sister.&nbsp; This would prove to be a mistake.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/thompson1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />A Colt .45 Peacemaker, Thompson\'s weapon of choice.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Ben immediately went over to his sister\'s house and knocked on the door.&nbsp; When his brother-in-law answered it, Ben jacked him right in the motherfucking face with a huge uppercut.&nbsp; The brother-in-law hit the deck like a ton of bricks, and then Ben shot the guy in the ribs.&nbsp; He didn\'t want to kill the stupid fucker (he wanted to make sure his knocked-up sister would have somebody to help take care of her), but he did want to send a message, and .45 inches of lead to a non-vital organ is how pissed-off badasses make their point.&nbsp; Thompson was arrested and sentenced to four years in prison, but his sister never had to worry about physical abuse again.</p>\r\n<p>Two years into his sentence, Thompson received a pardon from President Ulysses S. Grant and was released.&nbsp; He moved his family out to Abilene, Kansas and opened up a watering hole known as the Bull\'s Head Saloon.&nbsp; He met with some success, but eventually left town after his business partner was shot and killed in a street fight with Wild Bill Hickok.</p>\r\n<p>Thompson then moved out to Ellsworth, Kansas, where he and his brother Billy got jobs as house gamblers at the Ellsworth Saloon.&nbsp; Things were going pretty well until one night an unarmed Ben was accosted by two random angry gun-toting motherfuckers.&nbsp; Billy, who was ripshit drunk at the time, busted in to save the day and started spraying bullets into these goons.&nbsp; Unfortunately, Billy inadvertently ended up pulling a Bob Marley since one of the \"thugs\" he blasted was actually the Sheriff of Ellsworth.&nbsp; The brothers were then arrested by the famous lawman Wyatt Earp, but the charges were eventually dropped because there wasn\'t conclusive evidence that the Sheriff wasn\'t actually trying to murder Ben.</p>\r\n<p>With nothing left for him but a bad reputation in Ellsworth, Ben decided to travel around the frontier.&nbsp; He visited Wichita and Dodge City before moving out to Colorado and meeting up with two men who would become great friends of his:&nbsp; Legendary Wild West badasses Bat Masterson and Doc Holliday.&nbsp; Together the three men were contracted by the Santa Fe Railroad and served as hired guns during the&nbsp;<a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Railroad_Wars\" target=\"blank\">Railroad Wars</a>&nbsp;on the frontier.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/thompson.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<table style=\"width: 60%;\" align=\"center\">\r\n<tbody>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><em><em>\"It is doubtful if in his time there was another man living who equalled him with a pistol in a life-and-death struggle\"<br /><br /></em></em><center>-Bat Masterson</center></td>\r\n</tr>\r\n</tbody>\r\n</table>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>When Ben, Bat, and Doc were finished having crazy adventures and fucking up bitches, Ben moved back to Austin and opened up the Iron Foot Saloon.&nbsp; He was well-liked and successful, and he even got a part-time gig demonstrating his skill with a six-shooter as part of Buffalo Bill Cody\'s Wild West Show, which was pretty much the most badass job you could get back in the day.</p>\r\n<p>One night Ben and some of his buddies were hitting the&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.rapdict.org/Cristal\" target=\"blank\">Cristal</a>&nbsp;at a competing saloon, the Capital Theater.&nbsp; Well the owner of the Capital had some beef with Thompson so he came over and started some shit.&nbsp; Ben wasn\'t anyone to back down from a fight, so he just started talking smack like a DEA agent giving a lecture on Heroin.&nbsp; The \"yo mamma\" jokes were flying everywhere.&nbsp; Eventually the owner got super pissed and whipped out a shotgun but Ben drew his gatt and busted a cap in this motherfucker before he could get a shot off.&nbsp; A brawl broke out like those ones in bad Western movies where guys get thrown through plate glass windows and hookers hit cowboys over the head with whiskey bottles.&nbsp; One of the bartenders reached behind the bar and pulled out another shotgun, but Ben dropped that fucker as well.&nbsp; When all the smoke had died down and the po-po arrived, Ben was arrested and tried for murder but acquitted on grounds of self-defense.</p>\r\n<p>Ben used his reputation as an unstoppable assbeater to get elected the Marshal of Austin in 1880.&nbsp; During his reign the city saw a dramatic drop in crime as Ben cleaned up the streets like RoboCop.&nbsp; He was so hardcore that he hardly ever dispatched his deputies, preferring to perform almost all arrests himself.&nbsp; He even busted the notorious gunman&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.johnnyringo.com/\" target=\"blank\">John Ringo</a>&nbsp;when he rolled into town and started shit with everyone.</p>\r\n<p>Despite his success, trouble still seemed to follow Ben around.&nbsp; One night he got into a fight with the owner of the Vaudeville Variety Theater and killed him in a duel.&nbsp; He was acquitted of the murder once again, but after this blemish on his record he didn\'t return to law enforcement.</p>\r\n<p>After his tenure as Marshal, Thompson started to hit the&nbsp;<a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hennessy\" target=\"blank\">Hennessy</a>&nbsp;pretty hard.&nbsp; His popularity started to wane because people for some reason didn\'t like his new favorite pastime, which was getting really drunk and using street signs as target practice in the middle of the night.&nbsp; One night his deeds finally caught up with him as he went into the Vaudeville Variety Theater for a show and was ambushed and shot to death by friends of the former owner.</p>\r\n<p>Ben Thompson was everything you could possibly want from a Wild West badass.&nbsp; He worked as a professional gambler, soldier, ranger, mercenary, gunfighter, marshal, and saloon owner.&nbsp; He met all the big names of the time.&nbsp; His skill with the pistol was unmatched and his shot was unerring.&nbsp; He was honorable and well-liked, but quick to take offense and never walked away from a good fight.&nbsp; He loved punching, shooting, dueling, gambling and whiskey, which were basically like the four major food groups back in the old West.&nbsp; The man was a badass.&nbsp; What more could you possibly ask for?</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/thompson2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<table style=\"width: 60%;\" align=\"center\">\r\n<tbody>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><em><em><span>\"Thompson wasn\'t charismatic, he wasn\'t good looking.&nbsp; He had thinning hair and a terrible mustache.&nbsp; And listen:&nbsp; Billy the Kid.&nbsp; Jesse James.&nbsp; Wyatt Earp.&nbsp; Those are great names.&nbsp; Ben Thompson?&nbsp; It just doesn\'t have that ring to it.\"</span></em></em>\r\n<p align=\"center\">- Mark Kilmurry, producer of \"John Wayne Never Slept Here\"</p>\r\n</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n</tbody>\r\n</table>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.knottingley.org/history/ben_thompson.htm\" target=\"blank\">Knottingley.org</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.trivia-library.com/b/cowboy-biography-ben-thompson.htm\" target=\"blank\">Cowboy Biography</a></p>','2007-03-14','601749215101','thompson_new.jpg','thompson_new - Copy.jpg','Ben Thompson','Gunslinger who at one point or another held every badass occupation in the Old West.','I always make it a rule to let the other fellow fire first.  If a man wants to fight, I argue the question with him and try to show him how foolish it would be.  If he can\'t be dissuaded, why then the fun begins but I always let him have first crack.  Then when I fire, you see, I have the verdict of self-defence on my side.  I know that he is pretty certain in his hurry, to miss.  I never do.'),('Samson','N/A','N/A','Israel','Biblical Israeli Warrior','<p>Nobody has perfected the art of getting screwed over quite like the Jews.&nbsp; Ever since the dawn of time, the people of Israel have been jerked around by everyone from the Egyptians and the Babylonians to a bunch of obscure civilizations you\'ve never even heard of before.&nbsp; It seems like at any given point in time, the Jews are being brutally oppressed by some heathen godless culture or another.</p>\r\n<p>Well as of the fifteenth chapter of the Book of Judges, they were under the thumb of their ancient enemies the Philistines.&nbsp; It was during this time that the strongest and most powerful of all the Israelites proved that all you only needed was a quick temper and a shitload of Jew Power to make as stand and fuck up some pagan bitches with the Holy Realness.&nbsp; That hulking behemoth of a man was known as Samson, and he was a badass.&nbsp; This is his story.</p>\r\n<p>Once upon a time there was a guy and his wife who got busy like all the time but couldn\'t conceive a child.&nbsp; Well one day the wife was walking home from buying a loaf of bread at the supermarket when all of a sudden she met an Angel of God.&nbsp; The Angel came up to her and was like, \"hey you know how you can\'t get pregnant?&nbsp; Well God says that you\'re going to get knocked up and have a kid who is going to totally rock.&nbsp; He will be a total badass as long as you never cut his hair for any reason.&nbsp; Also you should keep kosher and lay off the booze while you\'ve got one in the oven because you don\'t want this kid to have any kind of fucked-up birth defects or anything\".</p>\r\n<p>Within weeks she became pregnant just as the Angel had predicted, and the couple named their son Samson.</p>\r\n<p>After Samson had reached manhood, he was walking through town one day when he saw a fine ass Philistine babe.&nbsp; As was the custom back in those days, he went home and told his Dad that he wanted to marry this chickenhead.&nbsp; His folks, being the good Jewish parents they were, were all like, \"but Samson, she\'s not a Jew!\"&nbsp; He said he didn\'t care, and he wanted this babe to be his wife.</p>\r\n<p>A couple days later he was headed back into town to go on a date with this chick when all of a sudden a huge-ass fucking PISSED-OFF LION jumped out of the brush.&nbsp; This thing immediately started tearing ass towards him, roaring and baring it\'s razor-sharp teeth.&nbsp; Well Samson didn\'t even give a shit.&nbsp; He grabbed the fucking thing and pulled it apart with his bare hands like it was a piece of paper made out of beef.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/samson1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />This picture came from&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.thebricktestament.com/\" target=\"blank\">http://www.thebricktestament.com</a>,<br />which is probably one of the greatest websites ever created.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>After destroying the King of the Jungle with nothing more than a bad attitude and the ole\'&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.thefreedictionary.com/meat+hooks\" target=\"blank\">meat hooks</a>, Samson went off to his date.&nbsp; They got some Starbucks and hung out, and decided they were going to get married because they were totally into each other.</p>\r\n<p>At the rehearsal dinner before the wedding, Samson issued a riddle to thirty of his Philistine wedding guests.&nbsp; He told them that if they couldn\'t answer the riddle they each had to give Samson one of their finest robes.&nbsp; However, if they were able answer the riddle, then he would give one fine robe to each of the thirty guests.&nbsp; They got all psyched up about the idea of getting some free swag, so they agreed.&nbsp; Samson presented them with the riddle, but they were totally stumped.</p>\r\n<p>The guests eventually got pissed and told Samson\'s wife that they were going to fucking set her and her father on fire if she didn\'t tell them the answer to the riddle.&nbsp; So she of course immediately went home and cried and whined to Samson until he finally gave her the correct answer.&nbsp; She immediately went back to the Philistines and passed the info along, and they were then able to answer Samson\'s riddle correctly.&nbsp; Just like that - BAM - he had to come up with thirty fine robes.&nbsp; Luckily, Samson, being the resourceful man that he was, knew just how to do this.</p>\r\n<p>He got SUPER fucking Omega pissed, traveled to the Philistine village of Ashkelon, killed thirty dudes with his bare hands, stole their robes and presented his asshole wedding guests with the pilfered shit.&nbsp; Now THAT\'S how a badass handles that sort of dilemma.</p>\r\n<p>After a long day of slaughtering Philistines for no good reason, Samson got drunk and went to his wife\'s house for a booty call.&nbsp; He knocked on the door to her home and her father answered.&nbsp; When Samson was all like, \"Hey I\'m going to go upstairs and get some busy\", his father-in-law was like, \"Dude I thought you hated her, so I married her off to your best man!&nbsp; If you want though, you can marry her younger, hotter sister...\"</p>\r\n<p>Samson was stunned.&nbsp; He looked his former father-in-law in the eyes and said:</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><em>\"From this day I shall be blameless in what I do against the Philistines:&nbsp; For I will do you evils.\"<br /><br />- Judges 15:7</em></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Samson then proceeded to get pissed in the sort of totally balls-out way that people got pissed in the Old Testament.&nbsp; He put together a crazy army of foxes, slapped horned viking helmets on them, strapped a bunch of torches to their tails and set them loose in the Philistines\' farmlands and vineyards.&nbsp; By the time they were done running around incinerating everything, the entirety of the Philistine croplands had been reduced to smoldering ashes.</p>\r\n<p>Well the Philistines were understandably pretty angry at Samson for destroying all of their food and wine, so they were like, \"OK jackass, if you like fire so much let\'s see how you enjoy this!\"&nbsp; Then they captured Samson\'s ex-wife and her father and burned them alive.</p>\r\n<p>This would prove to be a mistake.&nbsp; Badasses like Samson don\'t back down when you start setting their loved ones on fire.&nbsp; They seek vengeance.</p>\r\n<p>Samson got the biggest sword he could find, headed into town and started fucking up Philistines like it was his job.&nbsp; The Bible is a little hazy on the details, simply saying he \"cut them to pieces in a great slaughter\".&nbsp; It\'s brief and to the point, but explicit enough that you have a pretty good idea of how fucking ripshit he was at these motherfuckers.</p>\r\n<p>After he beat the shit out of every Philistine he could get his hands on, Samson went to the land of Judah and took up residence in a cave on the Rock of Etam.&nbsp; After being involved with so much death and destruction, he just decided to find a place to get away from it all and return to nature like Ralph Waldo Emerson on steroids.&nbsp; Unfortunately, the Philistines were not in any mood to let him get away.&nbsp; They put together a huge army and marched on Judah.</p>\r\n<p>Since the people of Judah weren\'t in any position to go to war with the Philistines, they made a deal - they men of Judah agreed to hand over Samson if the Philistines would spare them.&nbsp; The Philistines agreed, and the high council of Judah headed to the Rock of Etam to get Samson.&nbsp; When they showed up he was just like, \"Whatever.&nbsp; Go ahead and tie me up, but don\'t kill me.&nbsp; Just take me to the Philistines\".&nbsp; So they bound him with two strong ropes and marched him down the mountain.</p>\r\n<p>When the Philistines saw Samson coming they all started screaming insults at him like the audience at a Michael Richards show.&nbsp; When they saw their mortal enemy bound up and helpless, they all started to march towards him with their weapons drawn.&nbsp; But Samson wasn\'t about to be executed like some kind of chump.</p>\r\n<p>All of a sudden, Samson flexed his giant manly pecs and the ropes holding him broke off into a thousand pieces.&nbsp; The Philistines all immediately froze in panic and collectively muttered \"oh shit\" under their breaths.&nbsp; Samson then grabbed the closest thing he could find, which just so happened to be the jawbone of an&nbsp;<a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Donkey\" target=\"blank\">ass</a>, and started beating the holy living fuck out of EVERYONE.&nbsp; When the dust finally settled, he had slaughtered one thousand Philistine soldiers with a freaking bone club.&nbsp; I think this is where the phrase \"kicking ass\" comes from.</p>\r\n<p>Once he was done single-handedly destroying an entire regiment of Philistine infantry with little more than a blunt instrument and a shitload of determination, Samson sat down on a rock and realized he was half-dead from dehydration (fighting an army all by yourself is hard work).&nbsp; So he looked up to the heavens and cried, \"Hey God I killed a thousand Philistines but now I\'m thirsty as a motherfucker!\" so God came down and gave him some Powerade.&nbsp; Samson got re-fueled by electrolytes and went home, where he went on to serve as the Judge of Israel for twenty years.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/samson3.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />Samson steps on some Philistine\'s throat&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/stmichael.html\" target=\"blank\">St. Michael</a>-style.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Many years later Samson fell in love with this chick named Delilah who was a total bitch.&nbsp; The Philistines, who were still super pissed at Samson, came to Delilah one day and offered her a shitload of gold if she could find out what Samson\'s weakness was.&nbsp; Well she kept pestering him (you know how perseverative and annoying girls can be sometimes when they want you to do something), and eventually he told her about the source of his unmatched power:&nbsp; His&nbsp;<em>Dreadlocks of Hill Giant Strength +4</em>.&nbsp; He told her that he had never shaved in his entire life, and that like any good rock star the key to his power was his hair.&nbsp; She relayed this to the Philistines, and then one night when Samson was sleeping she shaved his head like a bad dorm roommate.&nbsp; The Philistines then busted into his home, bound him in bronze shackles, gouged his eyes out, and threw him in prison to serve a life sentence of hard labor.</p>\r\n<p>A couple days after he was locked up, the Philistine leaders decided to throw a huge banquet to celebrate their victory over this guy who had been their hated enemy for over twenty years.&nbsp; The entire nobility, along with about three thousand other Philistines got together at the Temple of the god Dagon to get wasted and offer up sacrifices.&nbsp; Once the party really got hopping and everyone started to get a little tipsy, they decided to bring Samson in so that everyone could yell mean things and throw tomatoes at him.&nbsp; So the guards fetched him from prison so he could serve the entertainment of the heathen jackass Philistines.</p>\r\n<p>Samson couldn\'t see, so he begged his captors to place his hands on the two huge pillars that served at the primary supports for the Temple.&nbsp; The guards obliged him and then went back to whatever they were doing.&nbsp; Samson placed on hand on each pillar and called out to God for the strength to exact vengeance on his enemies.&nbsp; God was a lot more down with vengeance and destruction back then, so he once again gave Samson super strength.&nbsp; Samson pushed with all of his might, toppling both pillars and bringing the entire temple crashing down on top of the Philistines.&nbsp; Everyone was crushed to death.</p>\r\n<p>Samson was a badass because he didn\'t fucking take shit from anybody for any reason.&nbsp; He single-handedly wiped out an entire army, he stuck it to the Philistines whenever he had the opportunity, and he exacted revenge whenever he felt even the slightest bit wronged.&nbsp; In the end, even when it looked like everything was lost, he went down and took everyone else with him.&nbsp; That\'s badass.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/samson2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><em>\"Straining all his nerves, he bowed:<br />As with the force of winds and waters pent,<br />When mountains tremble, those two massy pillars<br />With horrible convulsion to and fro<br />He tugged, he shook, till down they came, and drew<br />The whole roof after them, with burst of thunder<br />Upon the heads of all who sat beneath,<br />Lords, ladies, captains, counsellors, or priests,<br />Their choice nobility and flower.\"<br /></em><br />- John Milton, Samson Agonistes</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.thebricktestament.com/judges/index.html\" target=\"blank\">The Book of Judges at The Brick Testament</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/13423a.htm\" target=\"blank\">The Catholic Encyclopedia</a></p>','2007-03-09','358650819080','samson_new.jpg','samson_new - Copy.jpg','Samson','One of the few people in the Bible who got legitimate superpowers.',''),('Daniel Joseph Daly','November 11, 1873','April 27, 1937','Glen Cove, NY, USA','20th-century American Marine','<p>I know I\'ve quoted this&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/chrontosh.html%22\" target=\"blank\">before</a>, but it seems to be one of those universal constants that remains true in all circumstances:&nbsp; God has a hard-on for Marines, because they kill everything they see.&nbsp; Marines are the motherfuckers we send in when shit needs to be taken care of, and if you were to say that the USMC was one of the most badassed military organizations of all time I don\'t think you\'ve have too many people try to debate the subject with you.&nbsp; It\'s pretty much understood that when jackasses need to get their shit fucked up, the Marines are the President\'s first phone call.</p>\r\n<p>Among the United States Marine Corps, Sergeant Daniel Daly is something of a legend.&nbsp; Now that\'s saying something in and of itself, considering some of the men and women who have served the Corps during the years.&nbsp; The 5\'6\", 135lb soldier was fearless, tough, and well respected among officers and enlisted men alike.&nbsp; The man epitomized what it means to be a Marine.</p>\r\n<p>In January of 1899 the United States and Spain went to war over Cuba.&nbsp; Well Dan Daly heard about all the asskickings&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/roosevelt.html\" target=\"blank\">Teddy Roosevelt</a>&nbsp;and his men were laying all over the place, so he decided to enlist in the Marine Corps and try to get in on the action.&nbsp; Unfortunately by the time his drill instructors were done whipping him into shape old-school-style at boot camp on Parris Island, the war was already over.</p>\r\n<p>When Private Daly got out of Basic he was assigned to the Asiatic Fleet, which was trolling around the Far East eating sushi and drinking some fine-ass saki.&nbsp; Well around this time shit was getting pretty whack in China, as the Qing Dynasty was in the early stages of the Boxer Rebellion.&nbsp; While it would be awesome if the Boxer Rebellion was a bunch of guys like&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/ali.html\" target=\"blank\">Muhammad Ali</a>&nbsp;running around beating the shit out of everyone, it was really just an uprising by the Chinese peasantry against foreign influence in their country.&nbsp; Since these Boxers were getting a little bit more violent every day, the U.S. decided to send in some Marines to make sure their diplomatic legation was safe.&nbsp; Dan Daly\'s Marines were deployed.</p>\r\n<p>Well no sooner did the Marines show up then they found a small contingent of German soldiers camped outside the American embassy in Beijing.&nbsp; The Corpsmen were like, \"fuck this\", and assaulted the German positions, pushing the Krauts the fuck out of there.&nbsp; Since the defensive positions surrounding the legation were badly damaged, the rest of the Marines headed off to gather reinforcements and supplies to rebuild the fortifications around the embassy.&nbsp; Private Daly volunteered to stay back and hold the fort while they were gone.</p>\r\n<p>That night, shit hit the fan.&nbsp; Dan was just hanging out, smoking a cigarette, when all of a sudden a huge force of Chinese Boxers started bull-rushing the American Embassy with torches, rifles, and various other weaponry raised above their heads, screaming like madmen.&nbsp; They had come to destroy the consulate, and Daly was the only man between this rampaging horde and the diplomatic legation.&nbsp; In the face of this seemingly unending onslaught, Dan Daly knew it was time to be a Marine.&nbsp; He jammed an ammunition belt into his squad machine gun, took a deep breath, and squeezed the trigger.</p>\r\n<p>The next morning, the rest of Private Daly\'s squad arrived at the barricade Daly had been charged with defending.&nbsp; Through the smoke and the carnage, they saw Dan Daly sitting on the fortifications puffing a smoke, surrounded by the bodies of 200 slain Boxers.&nbsp; For his actions in single-handedly defending the legation in the face of impossible odds, Private Daly received the Congressional Medal of Honor.</p>\r\n<p>But his job wasn\'t finished yet.&nbsp; In 1914 Daly was transferred to Haiti during the American occupation of that country.&nbsp; It was here that he would distinguish himself in combat once again.</p>\r\n<p>Daly, who was now a Gunnery Sergeant at this point, was part of a platoon that had been sent out on a reconnaissance patrol deep into the Haitian countryside.&nbsp; One day, as they were fording a small river, the Marines found themselves in the middle of a deadly ambush.&nbsp; 400 Haitian Cacos rebels poured fire into the 35-man platoon from three sides of the river, tearing into the U.S. troops.&nbsp; The Marines fought hard and managed to push their way across the river, where they set up defensive positions and tried to fight off their attackers.&nbsp; Unfortunately, the platoon\'s heavy machine gun had fallen in the initial pandemonium and was now resting peacefully at the bottom of the river.&nbsp; Things looked pretty bleak for the heavily-outnumbered Marines.</p>\r\n<p>Then Sergeant Daly stepped up.&nbsp; He made his way out from the American positions in the middle of the night, jumped into the river, pulled the machine gun up, strapped it to his back and snuck back to join his platoon.&nbsp; The following morning, the now-heavily-armed Marines split into three fire teams and swept through the jungle, tearing the Cacos new assholes all over the place.&nbsp; When all was said and done, the rebel units were completely annihilated and Sergeant Daly earned his SECOND Congressional Medal of Honor.</p>\r\n<p>After Haiti, Daly served fleet duty aboard the USS&nbsp;<em>Newark, Panther, Cleveland, Marietta, Mississippi, Ohio</em>, and&nbsp;<em>Machias</em>, saw combat in Cuba, Mexico, Puerto Rico and Panama, and served on Marine bases in eight different U.S. cities.&nbsp; The man got around, because when you\'re as badass as Dan Daly was you\'re usually in pretty high demand.</p>\r\n<p>In 1917 the United States once again needed the help of Sergeant Daly.&nbsp; Around this time France and Germany were in the middle of the biggest and deadliest war the planet had ever seen, and the U.S. decided to send in the Marines to help kick some ass in \"The Great War\", as it was now being called.&nbsp; Well Daly sure as shit wasn\'t going to miss out on an opportunity to fight in a World War, so he shipped out at age 44 for some more adventures.&nbsp; He fought in several campaigns with the American Expeditionary Force in France, and won combat medals three more times - once when he crawled out under heavy enemy fire and rescued a half-dozen wounded Marines who were pinned down, once when he single-handedly captured 13 German soldiers, and once when he took out a heavily-fortified German machine gun nest all by himself using nothing more than a handful of grenades and a Colt .45 Automatic.&nbsp; He was also wounded three times, but yeah right like that could slow him down.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/daly1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Daly\'s greatest moment in World War I came during the intense fighting at the Battle of Belleau Wood.&nbsp; Daly\'s Marines were in the middle of a goddamned shitstorm.&nbsp; They were outnumbered two-to-one, outgunned, and facing down the barrel of a veritable assload of German machine gun nests.&nbsp; They had been pinned down for hours by a non-stop hail of artillery and gunfire, and things were looking bleak as hell for our boys.</p>\r\n<p>Well all of a sudden, just as things were looking hopeless, a lone figure jumped up onto the earthworks the American Marines had been using for cover.&nbsp; Sergeant Dan Daly looked down the line, clutched his rifle and shouted, \"Come on, you sons of bitches, do you want to live forever?\"&nbsp; before charging out to meet the enemy.&nbsp; The men of the United States Marine Corps saw this act of bravery and decided, no, they did not want to live forever.&nbsp; They went \"over the top\" and charged the German positions.</p>\r\n<p>On 26 June 1917 the U.S. High Command in France received the following telegram:</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><em>Woods now U.S. Marine Corps entirely.</em></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>For his actions in the Belleau Woods, Sergeant Daly received the Navy Cross and the French Croix de Guerre.</p>\r\n<p>Daly would serve in the occupation army, then work in Fleet Reserve until he finally retired from the Corps.&nbsp; He worked as a banker for 17 years after his service and died in 1937 at age 65.&nbsp; He is one of only two Marines to ever receive two Congressional Medals of Honor, and to this day remains one of the most legendary figures in American military history.&nbsp; A true badass.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/daly2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Even after his death the spirit of Dan Daly lived on in the American destroyer DD-519 -- the USS&nbsp;<em>Daly</em>.&nbsp; The&nbsp;<em>Daly</em>&nbsp;fought bravely in the Pacific Fleet, earning eight Battle Stars during 27 months of service in World War II.&nbsp; Even death couldn\'t stop the spirit of Sergeant Dan Daly from kicking fucking asses and taking names.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/daly3.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />The USS&nbsp;<em>Daly</em></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.mclm.com/tohonor/ddaly.html\" target=\"blank\">The Marine Corps Legacy Museum</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://hqinet001.hqmc.usmc.mil/HD/Historical/Whos_Who/Daly_DJ.htm\" target=\"blank\">USMC History Division Page</a></p>','2007-03-02','706203421209','daly_new.jpg','daly_new - Copy.jpg','Dan Daly','One of only two people to receive the medal of honor twice.',''),('Andrew Jackson','March 15, 1767','June 8, 1845','Waxhaws, British America','19th-century American General','<p>A few months ago someone e-mailed me and mentioned that Andrew Jackson is a true American hardass who deserves to be honored on this site for his toughness and badassitude.&nbsp; Reading that message left me with very mixed emotions, and even as I write this I\'m not entirely certain how to go about approaching the subject.</p>\r\n<p>On the one hand, the man was such a fucking ballbuster that the American public knew him as \"Old Hickory\", a nickname brought about because he was \"as tough as old hickory on the battlefield\" and \"better at cracking skulls than a giant baseball bat made out of old hickory with a couple of nails in it\".&nbsp; But on the other hand, the guy was a huge proponent of Indian Removal - he broke treaties and advocated the forcible relocation of thousands of indigenous peoples from their native homes to make more room for white settlement, farmland, and gold mining.&nbsp; The infamous \"<a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trail_of_Tears\" target=\"blank\">Trail of Tears</a>\" is unequivocally one of the low points in American history, and Jackson was the motherfucker responsible for it.&nbsp; Sure, some Native Americans eventually got pissed and started&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/crazyhorse.html\" target=\"blank\">kicking some ass</a>, but for the most part these were a peaceful people who just wanted to be left alone, and Jackson had to go into their bases and start killin their d00dz.&nbsp; He took it upon himself to force these people out of their homes and into a strange new territory which was wildly different from their tribal homelands, and to this day they\'re (understandably) still pretty ripshit about it.</p>\r\n<p>All of this leads to a rather troublesome dilemma:&nbsp; Is a badass still a badass if he doesn\'t always do the right thing?&nbsp; Should he be penalized badass points for not adhering to the ideals set forth in the Tome of Ultimate Righteousness?&nbsp; Do the individual actions make the man, or should we look at the big picture and the combined body of work when deciding these things?</p>\r\n<p>I looked back at some of the previous badasses to see what the precedent was for this sort of thing.&nbsp; We overlooked&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/wayne.html%22\" target=\"blank\">John Wayne</a>\'s rabid racism since we never saw that side of him in his movies.&nbsp; We put&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/murdoch.html\" target=\"blank\">Rupert Murdoch</a>&nbsp;on the list simply by&nbsp;<em>virtue of the fact</em>&nbsp;that he\'s a diabolical madman bent on world domination.&nbsp;&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/washington.html\" target=\"blank\">George Washington</a>&nbsp;was a slaveholder.&nbsp;&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/khan.html\" target=\"blank\">Genghis Khan</a>&nbsp;slaughtered unarmed civilians on several occasions.&nbsp; And don\'t even get me started on&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/emperor.html\" target=\"blank\">Emperor Palpatine</a>&nbsp;or&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/zod.html\" target=\"blank\">General Zod</a>.</p>\r\n<p>In short, it seemed like the decision had already been made.&nbsp; There\'s a difference between being badass and always doing the right thing, and it isn\'t my place to judge.&nbsp; It\'s my place to highlight what it is that makes them badassed.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/jackson1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Andrew Jackson enlisted into the Continental Army at age twelve and served as a courier in the Revolutionary War, running important packages and battle orders across the front.&nbsp; While he performed his job admirably, he was eventually captured and taken prisoner by the Brits, making him the only U.S. President in history to ever have been a Prisoner of War.&nbsp; They put him to work as a servant to a powerful British General who was a major prick.&nbsp; One day this cockhead General ordered Jackson to spit-shine his boots.&nbsp; Jackson told the guy to go fuck a donkey.&nbsp; The redcoat got so pissed off that he slashed Jackson in the face an hands, leaving him with a couple of badass scars.&nbsp; He was eventually released as part of a prisoner exchange and served the rest of the war.</p>\r\n<p>After the Revolution Jackson\'s entire family died from illness so he moved out to Tennessee and practiced frontier law, which at the time was basically one step removed from fistfighting or wrestling hungry bears.&nbsp; He became a Congressman the same year that Tennessee became an official state, and also served as the commander of the Tennessee Militia and a Colonel in the U.S. Army from 1801 until war broke out with the British eleven years later.</p>\r\n<p>During the early stages of the&nbsp;<a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/War_of_1812\" target=\"blank\">War of 1812</a>, Jackson\'s militia served in the Creek War Theater out West.&nbsp; Jackson\'s militia mobilized when a group of Northern \"Red Stick\" Creek Indians assaulted Fort Mims, Alabama, overwhelming the small garrison station there and slaughtering over 400 men, women and children.&nbsp; Andrew Jackson wasn\'t going to let that shit fly, so he rounded up guys like Sam Houston and Davy Crockett for his militia, enlisted the help of the Southern Creek and Cherokee Indian tribes and set out to kick ass.&nbsp; At the Battle of Horseshoe Bend, Jackson achieved a decisive victory over the Red Sticks.&nbsp; He sent his Creek and Cherokee soldiers to swim up river and attack the Red Stick positions from the rear, while he personally led a head-on bayonet charge (the most badass of all military maneuvers except for maybe the cavalry charge) and boxed them in from the front.&nbsp; The Red Sticks were soundly defeated.</p>\r\n<p>Jackson\'s greatest success in the war came three years later, however, when he was charged with defending the crucial port city of New Orleans from a British amphibious invasion.&nbsp; A huge force of about 14,000 redcoats had ballknocked the American Naval forces in the Gulf of Mexico, and was swooping in to seize control of the vital Mississippi River.&nbsp; Well Jackson wasn\'t about to let this happen.</p>\r\n<p>Jackson surveyed his forces and realized he was woefully outnumbered and outgunned.&nbsp; So he did what any badass would do -- he improvised.&nbsp; He scraped together a force consisting of U.S. sailors, Marines, soldiers, militiamen, Choctaw Indians, and Free Blacks.&nbsp; When that wasn\'t enough, he went out to Barataria Bay and enlisted the help of a band of MOTHERFUCKING PIRATES.&nbsp; He not only went to war with a company of pirate soldiers, he also had these scurvy bastards pull the cannon off of their ships and added them to the U.S. artillery batteries already stationed along the road to New Orleans in a heavily-fortified area known as \"Line Jackson\".&nbsp; All in all, Andrew managed to pull together almost 4,000 fighting men and eight artillery batteries and hunkered down to try and slow the British invasion.</p>\r\n<p>On 8 January 1815 the British assault began.&nbsp; The Brits launched a full-scale charge with over 8,000 men, outnumbering the U.S. forces by just over a 2:1 ratio.&nbsp; Well it didn\'t fucking matter.&nbsp; Jackson\'s pirates (and maybe even ninjas and robots) went into full-on berserk mode and U.S. artillery and musketfire blasted the redcoat lines.&nbsp; At the end of the day the British had suffered 2,037 casualties, including the deaths of all three senior commanding officers, while the American forces only had 13 men killed and 58 wounded.&nbsp; The line held, and the victory was total.&nbsp; The British sailed away with their tails between their legs within a week.</p>\r\n<p>Jackson later found out that the official peace treaty ending the war had been signed on 24 December, a full fifteen days before the battle.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/jackson3.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />\"Yarrrr!\"</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Jackson would go on to battle the Seminole and Creek tribes in Florida and Georgia, eventually becoming the impetus for the Adams-Onis Treaty in which the Spanish ceded Florida to the United States.&nbsp; His popularity as a war hero and Indian fighter helped him with the Presidential election in 1828.</p>\r\n<p>Now I won\'t bore you with all the details of Jacksonian Democracy... the Specie Circular, the National Bank, his ideological feud with fellow badass Thomas Jefferson, and all that other mundane bullshit.&nbsp; And I think I\'ve probably made my opinion regarding Jackson\'s Indian Removal policy abundantly clear.&nbsp; No, what makes Jackson badass isn\'t his policy - it\'s his toughness as a man.</p>\r\n<p>For starters, he was a hardcore duelist.&nbsp; Throughout his lifetime he fought 103 duels, most of them regarding his wife\'s honor.&nbsp; You see, Andrew and his wife started hooking up before her divorce had been finalized (she was separated from her husband at the time), and that sort of shit was even more frowned upon back then than it is now.&nbsp; So Andrew Jackson had a lot of people who thought it would be really fucking hilarious to call his wife a dirty whore, leaving him no choice but to duel them and fuck their shit up.</p>\r\n<p>One such stupid motherfucker was a dumb cock named Charles Dickinson.&nbsp; Dickinson was a big-time gunslinger who had been credited with 26 kills in various pistol duels during his lifetime.&nbsp; Well this jerkwad bet against Jackson on a horse race, and Jackson won, so this guy did what any hothead douchebag would do and called Jackson\'s wife a voracious cockmonger.&nbsp; Well I\'ve already mentioned that this was a sensitive subject for Andy, and he felt compelled by duty to defend his woman\'s honor so he challenged Quickdraw McDickface to pistols at dawn.</p>\r\n<p>Well you don\'t notch 26 kills by being&nbsp;<a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slowpoke_Rodriguez\" target=\"blank\">Slowpoke Rodriguez</a>.&nbsp; When both men hit ten paces, turned, and fired, Charles Dickinson blasted a shot that drilled Andrew Jackson square in the chest.&nbsp; Jackson looked down at the gaping gunshot wound, touched it, licked his finger like&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/brucelee.html\" target=\"blank\">Bruce Lee</a>&nbsp;in<em>Enter the Dragon</em>&nbsp;and then shot this fucker right in his bitch throat, killing him on the spot.</p>\r\n<p>The shot Jackson received in that duel hit so close to his heart that it could never be removed, due to the high probability that the surgery would puncture his aorta.&nbsp; It is said that as a result of all the duels he fought during his life, Jackson\'s entire body rattled \"like a bag of marbles\".&nbsp; He was also known to randomly go into a violent coughing fit and hack up blood, which is kind of cool in an&nbsp;<em>Exorcist</em>&nbsp;sort of way.</p>\r\n<p>In some of his other duels his favorite tactic was to wear a huge black trenchcoat.&nbsp; Not only did this serve as a big-time intimidation factor (as well as the inspiration for the movie&nbsp;<em>The Matrix</em>) but Andrew Jackson was about 6\'2\" and 140 pounds, so the coat concealed how skinny he was and many times his opponent would end up shooting holes in his jacket and missing him completely.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/jackson4.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Jackson was also a pretty wild dude.&nbsp; He frequently opened up the White House to the public, letting the unwashed masses run around and have the sort of insane house parties that would make Kid \'N Play jealous.&nbsp; One such party happened in 1835, when some crazy farmer dude mailed Jackson a 1,400 pound cheese wheel for some bizarre reason.&nbsp; Unfortunately, I can\'t find anything that indicates what&nbsp;<em>kind</em>&nbsp;of cheese it was, but whatever the answer is that\'s still a fucking badass present.&nbsp; Well Jackson was like, \"dude what the fuck am I supposed to do with a motherfucking half-ton of cheese?\", so he dragged it into the White House entrance hall and just left it there.&nbsp; For&nbsp;<em>two fucking years</em>.&nbsp; Finally, in 1837, when Jackson decided the cheese had \"aged\" enough, he opened the doors to the White House and invited people inside to eat some fucking cheese.&nbsp; He had his assistants pass out plastic Sporks at the door, and everybody just dug into this cheese wheel like French people on weed.&nbsp; Two hours later, the cheese was gone, and in it\'s place was a giant cheese-shaped grease stain that remained embedded in the White House carpet for several years.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/jackson5.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />\"I hope you guys like cheese!\"</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>In 1835, Jackson was walking through the Capitol just minding his own business when all of a sudden some fucking asshole ran up to him and was all like, \"hey President Jackass I got something for you in my pocket here!\" and whipped out a pistol.&nbsp; He shoved the pistol in Jackson\'s chest and pulled the trigger.&nbsp; Click.&nbsp; Misfire.&nbsp; Since this was the first time in history anyone had ever attempted to assassinate an American President, Jackson just looked this guy straight in the eyes and said in a steady tone like Clint Eastwood, \"what the fuck is your problem, asshole?\"</p>\r\n<p>The guy threw the now-useless weapon down on the floor, reached into his coat and whipped out a&nbsp;<em>second</em>&nbsp;fucking pistol.&nbsp; Once again he jammed it into Jackson\'s mug and pulled the trigger.&nbsp; Click.&nbsp; Another misfire.</p>\r\n<p>Jackson had seen enough.&nbsp; He slapped the gun out of this guy\'s hand and immediately cracked him in the fucking mouth with his walking cane.&nbsp; Then Jackson, who was 67 years old at the time, knocked this guy down and started wailing on him with his cane, hurling insults like a drunken Dennis Leary at a meeting of the Democratic Unionist Party.&nbsp; He was so pissed that had to be physically restrained by members of congress.&nbsp; Later, in true badass fashion, Jackson had a statue of himself built at the site of the incident.</p>\r\n<p>His political ideology and treatment of Native Americans may be questionable at best, but it\'s tough to deny the badassitude of a guy who put together an Army of Pirates, fought countless duels to defend his woman\'s honor, and was generally just crazy and balls-out all of the time.&nbsp; When all is said and done, I think the ultimate testament to the badassness of Andrew Jackson lies in the following fact:</p>\r\n<p>At Andrew Jackson\'s funeral, his pet parrot had to be removed from the church because it wouldn\'t stop swearing.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/jackson2.gif\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Andrew_jackson\" target=\"blank\">Wikipedia</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.usa-presidents.info/jackson.htm\" target=\"blank\">USA-Presidents.info</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.whitehousehistory.org/04/subs_pph/PresidentDetail.aspx?ID=7&amp;imageID=1303\" target=\"blank\">The Story of the Cheese Wheel</a></p>','2007-02-23','437207422710','jackson.jpg','jackson - Copy.jpg','Andrew Jackson','United States President who didn\'t mind an occasional bullet to the chest, and would shoot your shit down if you looked at him wrong.',''),('John Malcolm Thorpe Fleming ','September 16, 1906','March 8, 1996','Hong Kong, China','WWII British Soldier','<p>Jack Malcolm Thorpe Fleming Churchill graduated from Sandhurst Military Academy in 1926 and joined the storied Manchester Regiment of the British Army.&nbsp; He spent his first few years in the army riding his motorcycle across the entire Indian subcontinent (both the paved and the unpaved paths) just for the hell of it and learning to play the bagpipes despite the fact that he was about as Scottish as Shaka Zulu.&nbsp; After about ten years of doing crazy shit in the army, Jack Churchill retired.&nbsp; In his time off he worked as a newspaper editor, a professional male model and a movie extra, all the while honing his skill at archery and bagpiping on the side.&nbsp; He even represented England in the Archery World Championships in 1939.&nbsp; But guys like Jack Churchill aren\'t satisfied just by being a bizarre mesh of Robin Hood and Derek Zoolander, so he re-enlisted.&nbsp; And in the early months of 1940, he had his opportunity to prove himself as a distinguished, if not slightly eccentric, officer of the British Army.</p>\r\n<p>He had been shipped to France to assist the rest of the British Expeditionary Force in their mission to reinforce the Maginot Line, but not long after Churchill arrived Hitler decided to send his legions to seriously fuck up France and the Brits found themselves right in the middle of a raging shitstorm.&nbsp; The British troops were being pushed back towards the sea by the unstoppable Blitzkrieg, doing whatever they could to stall the Germans\' relentless advance.</p>\r\n<p>Well Jack Churchill had some ideas.&nbsp; He not only refused to give ground, but he launched small-scale guerrilla raids and surprise attacks on German positions and supply depots.&nbsp; Riding his trusty motorcycle and armed only with a motherfucking bow and arrow and a Scottish broadsword, he would assault the Germans, catch them completely off-guard, and fuck their shit up medieval-style.&nbsp; When asked by a fellow officer why Churchill insisted on carrying the broadsword into battle with him, he responded, \"In my opinion, sir, any officer who goes into action without his sword is improperly dressed\".</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/churchill4.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />Churchill\'s sword.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Despite being shot in the fucking neck by a German machine gun, \"Mad Jack\" Churchill (as he came to be known) battled throughout the Dunkirk campaign, at one point even winning the Military Cross for bravery when he rescued a wounded British officer from a German ambush -- probably by swinging in on a rope, stabbing a Nazi officer in the chest with his sword and then beating up another eight guys with his bare hands, but that\'s just a guess.</p>\r\n<p>After Dunkirk, Jack returned to England and promptly signed up to be a member of a new organization known as the Commandos.&nbsp; He wasn\'t sure what a Commando was, but he was excited about the prospect of kicking German asses, so he couldn\'t resist.&nbsp; He was promptly put through the grueling training regimen of the British Special Forces, and he loved every minute of it.</p>\r\n<p>When his training was completed, he took part in the daring amphibious assault on the German base in Vaagso, Norway.&nbsp; As the leader of Number 2 Commando, Churchill was responsible for taking out the artillery batteries on Maaloy Island.&nbsp; As the landing craft raced towards their LZ, he belted out \"The March of the Cameron Men\" on the bagpipes to pump up his men and prove to everyone how awesome he was.&nbsp; When the assault ramp swung open, he fearlessly waded through knee-deep water out at the head of his men, with his trusty blade lofted high in the air, screaming \"COOMMAAAAAAANNNNDOOOO!!!!!\" at the top of his lungs.&nbsp; Two hours later, British High Command received a telegram from the front:</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><em>Maaloy battery and island captured.&nbsp; Casualties slight.&nbsp; Demolitions in progress.&nbsp; Churchill.\"</em></p>\r\n<p>During the British landing at Salerno, he won another award for bravery.&nbsp; His squad was charged with taking out an artillery battery that was pinning down a nearby British force, despite the fact that the town of Piegoletti (where the guns were based) was garrisoned by a force much larger than his own Number 2 Commando.&nbsp; Well Churchill was like, \"fuck that\".&nbsp; In the middle of the night, he had his men charge the town from all sides, screaming \"COOMMAAANNNNDOOO!!!\" as loud as possible.&nbsp; The Germans were confused and surprised, and mounted a futile resistance.&nbsp; The 50 men of Number 2 Commando took 136 prisoners and inflicted an unknown number of casualties.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/churchill3.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>But that wasn\'t even the most balls out thing Mad Jack did on that campaign.&nbsp; One night, he single-handedly took forty-two German prisoners and captured a mortar crew using only his broadsword.&nbsp; He simply took one patrolling guard as a human shield and went around from sentry post to sentry post, sneaking up on the guards and then shoving his sword in their faces until they surrendered.&nbsp; His response when asked about how he was able to capture so many soldiers so easily:&nbsp;</p>\r\n<blockquote>\r\n<blockquote>\r\n<p><em>\"I maintain that, as long as you tell a German loudly and clearly what to do, if you are senior to him he will cry \'jawohl\'</em>(yes sir)<em>&nbsp;and get on with it enthusiastically and efficiently whatever the situation.\"</em></p>\r\n</blockquote>\r\n</blockquote>\r\n<p>Now if that\'s not hardcore, then nothing is.</p>\r\n<p>Churchill continued to lead his men in action against the German forces in Yugoslavia, but was eventually captured by the enemy while fighting for Point 622 on the island of Brac in the Adriatic Sea, when every man in his Commando team was killed or wounded and all of his revolver ammunition ran out.&nbsp; Knowing that he was not going to escape, and having no further means of killing Nazis, Jack started playing sad songs on his bagpipes until he was finally knocked unconscious by a frag grenade and taken off to the Sachsenhausen Concentration Camp.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/churchill2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>But it would take more than some fucking concentration camp to hold Jack Churchill.&nbsp; One night in September of 1944, he escaped the camp by crawling under barbed wire and through and abandoned drain.&nbsp; He was later recaptured while walking towards the Baltic coast and shipped off to a prison camp in Austria.</p>\r\n<p>This too would prove to be insufficient to hold Jack, however.&nbsp; When the camp lighting failed one night in April 1945, he dropped his shovel and walked away from work detail.&nbsp; He marched 150 miles through the treacherous terrain of the Alps, \"liberating\" vegetables he found along the way, until finally he met up with a U.S. Armored column and was sent back to England.</p>\r\n<p>Unfortunately, the war was pretty much over at this point.&nbsp; He expressed interest in fighting the Japanese, but as his train was pulling into the station in Burma he received word that the atomic bomb had been dropped on Hiroshima and the Pacific Campaign would soon be over.</p>\r\n<p>However, Jack\'s adventures weren\'t finished yet.&nbsp; At the age of 40, he qualified as a paratrooper and completed jump school.&nbsp; He went on to serve in action in Palestine, where he earned fame for defending a Jewish medical convoy from an Arab ambush - radioing for backup and providing small-arms fire while wearing his full military dress uniform.&nbsp; Another time he and twelve other men evacuated a hospital full of Israeli medical personnel when they came under attack by Arab rockets.</p>\r\n<p>After Palestine, Churchill went on to serve as an instructor at a land-air warfare school in Australia and become a hardcore surfer.&nbsp; He even designed and built his own surfboards.&nbsp; He retired from the army in 1959, recipient of two awards for bravery.</p>\r\n<p>I love eccentric badasses, and \"Mad Jack\" Churchill (also known as \"Fighting Jack\" Churchill) is about as eccentric as they come.&nbsp; It takes a special kind of badass to carry a bow and arrow to a gunfight, to scream at the top of his lungs in the face of oncoming machine gun fire, and to capture a mortar team using nothing but a sword and a little bit of ingenuity.&nbsp; The guy was always looking for adventure, never backed away from a fight, and was pretty much insane to the point of being a total badass.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/churchill-archery.png\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />Jack at the World Archery Championship.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.wwiihistorymagazine.com/2005/july/col-profiles.html\" target=\"blank\">WWII History Magazine</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jack_Churchill\" target=\"blank\">Wikipedia Article</a></p>','2007-02-16','601960524369','jackchuchill_new.jpg','jackchuchill_new - Copy.jpg','Jack Churchill','The kind of ballsy WWII soldier who never went into battle without a sword.',''),('Odysseus','N/A','N/A','Ithaca, Greece','Mythological Greek Adventurer','<p>Odysseus was a powerful warrior king in Ancient Greek history who played a central role in the Homeric epics&nbsp;<em>The Iliad</em>&nbsp;and&nbsp;<em>The Odyssey</em>.&nbsp; The son of the Argonaut Laertes, Odysseus married the beautiful, eloquent and intelligent Penelope and together they ruled the tiny Greek island of Ithaca.&nbsp; But his legacy would be far more than just that of a respected king and noble ruler.&nbsp; He would be forever known as one of the greatest and most famous epic heroes in the history of mankind.</p>\r\n<p>Odysseus\' adventure began when some bad shit started to go down with his homedog King Menelaus of Sparta.&nbsp; You see, one night some punk guy named Paris broke into Menelaus\' home and abducted his wife, the incomparably beautiful Helen, and brought her back to the heavily fortified city of Troy in Asia Minor.&nbsp; Well, if you know anything about&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/spartans.html\" target=\"blank\">Spartans</a>, you know that the motherfucking King of Sparta isn\'t the sort of guy who\'s going to sit around and let some chump make off with his woman.&nbsp; This offense meant war.</p>\r\n<p>Menelaus put together the largest invasion fleet the world had ever seen in preparation for his assault on the towering spires of Troy.&nbsp; Odysseus was highly regarded by Menelaus for his cunning and his ability as a military tactician, and was asked to join the effort.&nbsp; Though he was reluctant at first, Odysseus finally agreed.&nbsp; He then played a pivotal role in the recruitment of the great Achilles, a virtually invincible warrior who would be the most powerful and feared man in the oncoming war.</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000;\"><strong>The Trojan War:</strong></span></p>\r\n<p>The Resourceful Odysseus, as he was come to be known, was the trusted advisor and chief lieutenant of Kings Menelaus and Agamemnon throughout the course of the war.&nbsp; He would fight at the forefront of battle, restore order to the camp when necessary, and his speeches strengthened the resolve of the Greek soldiers to continue their struggle against the Trojans.&nbsp; When Achilles fell in battle, it was Odysseus who fought his way through the hordes of enemy soldiers and retrieved his body.&nbsp; At the funeral games following Achilles\' burial, Odysseus defeated Ajax the Greater in a wrestling match to win the title \"Bravest of the Greeks\".</p>\r\n<p>Odysseus\' greatest contribution to the war effort however, was when he devised the strategy that ultimately led to victory.&nbsp; It was The Wily Odysseus who came up with the idea to build the&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.pantheon.org/articles/t/trojan_horse.html\" target=\"blank\">Trojan Horse</a>, and it was he who led the force that so famously infiltrated the walls of Troy inside a giant structure the Trojans believed was simply an offering to the Gods.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/odysseus-trojanhorse.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />\"Maybe if we built a large wooden badger...\"</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #666666;\"><strong>The Destruction of Troy:</strong></span></p>\r\n<p>When night settled, Odysseus and his men came pouring out of the Trojan Horse and started kicking Trojan asses like Vince Young in the 2006 Rose Bowl.&nbsp; They killed the guards and opened the gates of the city to the rest of the Greek army, who then proceeded to set fire to everything they could get their hands on.&nbsp; After ten years of bitter war, the Greeks finally destroyed their hated enemies.&nbsp; Men and boys are slaughtered in their beds.&nbsp; Trojan women are captured and taken away as slaves.&nbsp; The wrath of the Greek army was terrible.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/odysseus-troy.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>While releasing pent-up aggression via wholesale slaughter of civilian and military populations might have been therapeutic for the Greek warriors, the Gods of Honorable Combat tend to frown upon such wanton destruction, particularly when it comes to Odysseus\' orders to kill the heirs of King Priam of Troy while they slept.&nbsp; For his crimes, the Gods decreed that Odysseus would not return home to his native Ithaca for another ten years.&nbsp; So as Odysseus left the smoldering ruins of the City of Troy behind and boarded his black-hulled ships with his loyal companions, he had no idea that his adventure was really only beginning.</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc9900;\"><strong>Kikonia:</strong></span></p>\r\n<p>So the Greeks set sail, eventually coming upon the small seaside city of Kikonia.&nbsp; Being the warlike people they were, the Greeks did what any Viking worth his salt would do:&nbsp; They sacked the city, made off with whatever plunder they could carry, and killed some people.&nbsp; Well this pissed the Kikonians off slightly, so they went and got some of their allies to come help out.&nbsp; While Odysseus and his men were sitting on the beach roasting Grade A Kikonian beef over a raging bonfire, these reinforcements showed up and started kicking Greek asses.&nbsp; Odysseus and his men retreated to their ships and shoved off.</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc00cc;\"><strong>The Lotus-Eaters:</strong></span></p>\r\n<p>Next they arrived at an island where the natives spent all day eating the crazy-ass Lotus Plant, which was like the best food in the entire planet (think of the best Beef Jerky you\'ve ever eaten and times it by a billion).&nbsp; Some of Odysseus\' men tasted the Lotus and were like, \"fuck going home man, I\'m just going to get stoned, eat Lotus, and watch TV Land reruns with these Lotus-Eaters all day\".&nbsp; Finally, Odysseus was like, \"come on douchebags, I want to get home\", and they left.</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc3300;\"><strong>Polyphemos:</strong></span></p>\r\n<p>The next island Odysseus and his men landed on was the home of Polyphemus the Dickhead Cyclops.&nbsp; Polyphemus was like thirty feet tall, and as soon as he saw these Greeks land on his shores he captured the entire crew and locked them in his cave by sealing the entrance with a rock the size of Odysseus\' left nut.&nbsp; As if that wasn\'t bad enough, every night he showed up and ate two of Odysseus\' dudes.&nbsp; After a couple nights of this, Odysseus had enough.&nbsp; He mixed up a huge ass bowl of super potent 151 proof wine and after Polyphemos finished munching two soldiers Odysseus was like, \"hey dude why don\'t you wash down my delicious crew members with a huge keg of&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.greecefoods.com/ouzo/index.html\" target=\"blank\">Ouzo</a>?\"&nbsp; So Polyphemos got wasted, sang karaoke for about two hours and then passed out.</p>\r\n<p>Then, in one of the worst&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=drunk+shaming\" target=\"blank\">drunk shaming</a>&nbsp;incidents in the history of the world, Odysseus and his men took this giant-ass tree stump, whittled the end of it down to a point, held it over the fire for about an hour and then jammed this giant fucking spear into Polyphemos\' eye.&nbsp; Shit, it took like four guys just to lift the thing, and they rammed it straight into the Cyclops\' only ocular cavity like a vengeful optometrist.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/odysseus-polyphemos.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><strong><span style=\"color: #cc3300;\">Polyphemos:</span></strong>&nbsp; Augh!!!&nbsp; Dude, what the hell!?!?!</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Obviously, Polyphemos was pretty pissed about this, but since he couldn\'t see shit there really wasn\'t a whole lot he could do.&nbsp; Odysseus and his men made a run for their ships while the Cyclops tried to get this giant flaming toothpick out of his fucking eye.&nbsp; Finally, the crew reached their ships (stealing like two dozen of Polyphemos\' sheep in the process) and set sail once again.&nbsp; As they pulled away Odysseus, like any true badass, decided to start talking smack and yelled a bunch of degrading insults at the blinded monster.&nbsp; Polyphemos got pissed of course, and hurleds a giant boulder at the ship, but he\'s got less control than&nbsp;<a href=\"http://sports.yahoo.com/mlb/players/5336\" target=\"blank\">LaTroy Fucking Hawkins</a>&nbsp;and misses Odysseus by a mile.&nbsp; Odysseus\' men take this opportunity to chant \"Airball!&nbsp; Airball!\" and insinuate that \"Cyclops got no game\".</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #ffcc00;\"><strong>The Island of Aeolus:</strong></span></p>\r\n<p>The crew arrive at the floating island of Aeolus, and I\'m not talking about Kevin Sorbo\'s buddy from&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0111999/\" target=\"blank\">Hercules, the Legendary Journeys</a>.&nbsp; This Aeolus is the favored mortal of the Gods, who has power over the winds.&nbsp; So Aeolus is all like, \"hey check out my sack!\", and hands Odysseus a bag containing the wind, but tells him not to open it.&nbsp; Well of course his dumbass crew opens the bag while Odysseus is sleeping one night and the winds blow them all the way back to Aeolus\' island.&nbsp; Aeolus decides that these jerks aren\'t worthy of his sack and he takes it away from them.</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #663300;\"><strong>The Laistrygonians:</strong></span></p>\r\n<p>Odysseus and his men land on another remote island where they are greeted by a super hot babe, who just so happens to be the princess of the Laistrygonians.&nbsp; Well Odysseus\' men have no fucking clue who the Laistrygonians are, but they DO enjoy hot babes, so they follow her back to her home and try to see if they can get some.&nbsp; About two seconds after stepping in to the Palace, they are ambushed by the motherfucking Laistrygonians, a race of&nbsp;<a href=\"http://sales.starcitygames.com/carddisplay.php?product=18617\" target=\"blank\">Hill Giants</a>, who start skewering the men with their giant spears and carrying them off to be eaten.&nbsp; The Greeks make a run for it, and are ambushed by like fifty of these greasy bastards, who start throwing hugeass boulders at the Greeks and their ships.&nbsp; They set sail from the island as quickly as possible, but every ship except Odysseus\' is crushed by the giant rocks.</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #00ccff;\"><strong>Circe:</strong></span></p>\r\n<p>At the next island they reach, Odysseus sends out a search party to investigate.&nbsp; His men arrive at the home of Circe, an Enchantress/Goddess who lives in a home populated by dozens of lions and wolves and shit.&nbsp; She\'s a mega-babe and invites the men in for dinner, but she drugs their wine and transmogrifies them into pigs.&nbsp; Odysseus shows up and is like, \"damnit woman, what the hell is going on?\".&nbsp; Circe offers Odysseus some of the drugged wine.&nbsp; He drinks it, but is unaffected.&nbsp; After seeing his ultimate ability to withstand poison, she falls madly in love with him and begs him to do her because he\'s such a badass.&nbsp; He says he won\'t until she turns his men back into humans again.&nbsp; She complies, so Odysseus does her.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/odysseus-circe.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />This is what I would imagine my wife\'s life would be like if she didn\'t have to work.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #666666;\"><strong>Hades:</strong></span></p>\r\n<p>You know how some times you have to&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=pour+one+out\" target=\"blank\">pour one out</a>&nbsp;for all of your dead homies?&nbsp; Well when you\'ve pissed off the Gods as bad as Odysseus has, some times you need to pour one out&nbsp;<em>with</em>&nbsp;all your dead homies.&nbsp; So at the behest of Circe Odysseus and his men sail to the edge of the Earth, up the Archon River and right into the middle of the fucking Underworld.&nbsp; Odysseus sacrifices a couple of Circe\'s sheep to honor the dead, and all of a sudden his old buddies from the Trojan War rise up out of the ground and they have a kickass barbecue and get down like Michael Jackson and those zombies from the&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z4-IlviV8Ao\" target=\"blank\">Thriller</a>&nbsp;video.&nbsp; When they\'re done partying and catching up on old times, his old friends give Odysseus some crucial advice for the future - don\'t eat the Cattle of Helios.&nbsp; Helios really hates it when motherfuckers eat his cattle.</p>\r\n<p>Before leaving Hades, Odysseus also drops in and meets all kinds of dead heroes like Hercules and Orion, because a true badass must always have an appreciation for those badasses who have come before him.</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #ff66cc;\"><strong>The Sirens:</strong></span></p>\r\n<p>The crew then sail past the island of the Sirens, monsters that look like super-hot babes and whose song lures men to their deaths.&nbsp; Odysseus has his men tie him to the mainsail of the ship (like Bill Murray in&nbsp;<em>What About Bob?</em>) so that he can resist the temptation, and has wax earplugs made for his men.&nbsp; When he hears the beautiful song and sees the beautiful babes, he orders his men to the island of the Sirens, but they\'re not stupid enough to comply.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/odysseus-sirens.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #0066cc;\"><strong>Scylla and Charybdis:</strong></span></p>\r\n<p>The next obstacle they face is a powerful whirlpool called Charybdis and a man-eating six-headed monster named Scylla, both of whom are positioned about 100 yards from each other down a narrow strait.&nbsp; Odysseus\' ship has to sail between them, so he decides to steer closer to Scylla than Charybdis.&nbsp; Scylla pulls six dudes off the deck of the ship and takes them back to her lair to be eaten, but I guess it\'s still preferable to having your entire ship sunk in a bottomless whirlpool.</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #999933;\"><strong>The Cattle of Helios:</strong></span></p>\r\n<p>Odysseus finally puts ashore at the island of Helios.&nbsp; Despite being told by a fucking legion of the undead not to eat the goddamned Cattle of Helios, Odysseus\' men wait for Odysseus to leave camp and eat the fucking Cattle anyway while he\'s away.&nbsp; Zeus has finally had enough of their shit, and he smites the ship with a fucking lightning bolt, killing everyone.&nbsp; Odysseus is washed out to sea, past Scylla and Charybdis, and washes up on the island of the nymph Calypso.</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0066;\"><strong>Calypso:</strong></span></p>\r\n<p>Calypso is a mega-hot nymph babe who imprisons Odysseus, puts him under her spell, and makes him her lover for seven years.&nbsp; She\'s like one of those girlfriends that you really can\'t stand and who irritates you all the fucking time, but you don\'t want to break up with her because she\'s really hot.&nbsp; Eventually, the God Hermes shows up and tells Calypso to release Odysseus from her spell.&nbsp; She does, so he builds a raft and sets sail again, crashing his ship on the island of the Nausicaa.&nbsp; He tells them his story, and they rush him home to Ithaca aboard one of their fastest vessels.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/odysseus-homecoming.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #33cc66;\"><strong>Return to Ithaca:</strong></span></p>\r\n<p>After twenty years of war, adventures, shipwrecking every fifteen minutes and watching his buddies all get eaten by dozens of different gigantor disgusting monsters, Odysseus finally set foot on the island of Ithaca.&nbsp; But he quickly realized that shit was fucked up when he ran into his old friend Eumaeus.</p>\r\n<p>It turns out that everybody pretty much assumed that Odysseus was dead, so all these punk bitch guys started hanging around trying to sex up Odysseus\' wife Penelope.&nbsp; These potential suitors were living in Odysseus\' home, eating all of his finest cattle and livestock, drinking all his booze, raiding his fridge, treating his son like a little bitch (they even hatched a plot to murder him), and fucking with Odysseus\' house staff.&nbsp; They even neglected his beloved dog to the point where it died.&nbsp; Odysseus sought out his son Telemachos, who confirmed everything, saying that Penelope had ever remained faithful to Odysseus despite immense pressure from all these guys who wanted her to put out like a prom date.&nbsp; Apparently, these dudes weren\'t going to leave any time soon either, and they&nbsp;<em>demanded</em>&nbsp;that Penelope choose one of them to marry.</p>\r\n<p>So the Wily Odysseus disguised himself as a homeless beggar and went back to his home to see for himself.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/odysseus-penelopesuited.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />Penelope can\'t even sew without getting hit on by bitch-holes.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Once he saw for himself what was going on, Odysseus did what any badass would do and GOT FUCKING RIPSHIT PISSED.&nbsp; But being the shrewd tactician he was, he bided his time and waited for right opportunity to present itself.</p>\r\n<p>It didn\'t take long.</p>\r\n<p>After twenty years of being alone, Penelope had finally determined that she would relent and marry one of the suitors.&nbsp; She decided to set up a test:&nbsp; First she stuck a dozen axes in the ground in a straight line, and then she got the mighty Bow of Odysseus out of the attic.&nbsp; She said that she would agree to marry the first man who was able to string the bow and fire an arrow through all of the axe-handles.</p>\r\n<p>The suitors spent all day trying, but they weren\'t even strong enough to string up the bow.&nbsp; There were probably like fifty of these motherfuckers, and since none of them had worked a day in their lives they were all soft, prissy bitches and probably couldn\'t muster the strength to hold Odysseus\' jock strap if their lives depended on it.</p>\r\n<p>Finally, when everybody had hurt their dainty little wife-stealing fingers trying to put this massive weapon together, the humble beggar sitting in the corner of the room asked if he could try to string it up.&nbsp; All the suitors, being the pompous asses that they were, started talking all kinds of shit to the \"old man\".&nbsp; Eventually, after a little bit of coaxing, they allowed him to try.&nbsp; The humble beggar gripped the bow in one hand, and strung it up effortlessly in one fluid motion.&nbsp; He nocked an arrow, drew the bowstring back, and fired a powerful shot through all ten axe handles.</p>\r\n<p>The suitors all soiled themselves.</p>\r\n<p>The beggar then took another arrow, drew it back, and fired it right through the motherfucking throat of the foremost suitor.</p>\r\n<p>This sent everyone into an uproar.&nbsp; They cursed him and told him he was to suffer for his crimes, but the beggar then threw off his humble trappings and revealed himself to be the Resourceful Odysseus, King of Ithaca.&nbsp; He looked out across the room and said in a somber tone:</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<table align=\"center\">\r\n<tbody>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td>\"You dogs, you never thought that I would any more come back<br />from the land of Troy, and because of that you despoiled my household<br />and forcibly took my serving women to sleep beside you,<br />and sought to win my wife while I was still alive, fearing<br />neither the Immortal Gods who hold the wide Heaven,<br />nor any resentment sprung from men to be yours in the future.<br />now upon all of you the terms of destruction are fastened.\"</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n</tbody>\r\n</table>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>At this point, everyone pretty much knew that they were fucked.&nbsp; One of the suitors, a ridiculously wealthy man named Eurymachos, offered Odysseus huge sums of gold, land and livestock, and offered to pay restitution to Odysseus for all the offenses he and the other suitors had committed.&nbsp; He offered wealth beyond Odysseus\' wildest dreams.&nbsp; Odysseus furrowed his eyebrows and grimly said the following:</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<table align=\"center\">\r\n<tbody>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td>\"Eurymachos, if you gave me all your father\'s possessions,<br />all that you have now, and what you could add from elsewhere,<br />even so, I would not stay my hand from the slaughter,<br />until I had taken revenge for all the suitors transgression.<br />now the choice has been set before you, either to fight me<br />or run, if any of you can escape death and its spirits.<br />But I think not one man will escape from sheer destruction.\"</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n</tbody>\r\n</table>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/odysseus-suitors.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />You guys are so totally fucked.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>With that, the battle was on.&nbsp; The suitors ran off to Odysseus\' armory, loaded up on weapons and gear and bull rushed him, trying to strike him down with his own fucking weapons.&nbsp; Odysseus fired a buttload of arrows, killing several of these idiots, but before too long they had overrun his position.&nbsp; At the last minute, Telemachos showed up with an armful of spears and together Odysseus and his son fought off the horde of suitors in an intense m&ecirc;l&eacute;e.&nbsp; When the dust had settled, all of the suitors lie dead at their feet.&nbsp; Odysseus was reunited with Peneolope, twenty years after his departure, and his adventure had finally ended.</p>\r\n<p><em>The Odyssey</em>&nbsp;is one of the most badass tales in human history.&nbsp; Odysseus has the brains and his resourcefulness to get out of tricky situations, the eloquence and charisma to inspire (and instill fear) in men, and the strength to fight his way out of any situation.&nbsp; He proves himself as a war hero, goes on an epic adventure, visits strange new lands, and exacts cruel revenge on everyone who wronged him.&nbsp; His legend has survived for thousands of years and has long stood (and will long stand) as one of the ultimate models of what it means to be badassed.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/odysseus-penelope.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />Reunited at last.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.philipresheph.com/demodokos/homer.htm\" target=\"blank\">The Trojan War: An Illustrated Companion</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Odysseus\" target=\"blank\">Wikipedia</a></p>','2007-02-09','715623125429','odysseus_new1.jpg','','Odysseus','The Trojan war wasn\'t even enough of an adventure for this guy.',''),('Leigh Ann Hester','January 12, 1982','N/A','Bowling Green, KY, USA','21st-century American Soldier','<p>One of the first Badass of the Week articles I ever wrote was about a Marine Lieutenant named&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/chrontosh.html\" target=\"blank\">Brian Chrontosh</a>&nbsp;who single-handedly took out something like two dozen Iraqi soldiers with his bare hands, a handful of rocket-propelled grenades and a big rusty pipe with a nail sticking out of it.&nbsp; The guy, as I seem to remember writing, was \"totally hardcore to the max\".</p>\r\n<p>I\'m convinced it\'s my hip lingo that keeps you guys coming back to this site for more.</p>\r\n<p>Well I recently read about another similar story of American badassery in the desert, and I\'m not talking about that time my friend Bill won the esteemed title of \"Best&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.gamespot.com/xbox/action/halo/review.html?om_act=convert&amp;om_clk=gssummary\" target=\"blank\">HALO</a>&nbsp;Player in the 82nd Airborne Division\" while serving in&nbsp;<em>Operation Enduring Iraqi Shield Freedom Storm: Hyper Champion Edition</em>&nbsp;a couple months ago.&nbsp; I\'m talking about the story of the first woman since World War II to win the prestigious&nbsp;<a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Silver_star\" target=\"blank\">Silver Star</a>&nbsp;for valor in combat:&nbsp; Sergeant Leigh Ann Hester of the 503rd Military Police Battalion, Kentucky National Guard.</p>\r\n<p>On 20 March 2005, a convoy of about thirty civilian supply trucks was driving through the Iraqi countryside just minding it\'s own business when all of a sudden they were ambushed by a cockload of armed insurgents.&nbsp; The supply train, consisting mostly of unarmored eighteen-wheelers driven by Iraqi and Turkish teamsters with cool CB radio callsigns, instantly found themselves under a steady hail of heavy machine gun and small arms fire from a row of irrigation ditches just off the side of the road, which understandably they were pretty pissed about.&nbsp; One of the two American Humvees escorting the convoy was knocked out almost immediately by RPG fire.&nbsp; The second Hummer pulled up and tried to mount a defense, but all three soldiers were wounded by fire from the concealed enemy positions.&nbsp; With the American soldiers sufficiently suppressed, a group of about thirty insurgent fighters advanced on foot towards the convoy, pulling out handcuffs so they could capture the wounded troops and bring them back, possibly to star in one of those fucked-up internet snuff films that are all the rage amongst radical Mid-East extremists these days.</p>\r\n<p>But the soldiers of the 503rd MP Battalion weren\'t about to let that happen.</p>\r\n<p>Right as these jackass insurgents are getting ready to start taking hostages, they find out first-hand what it\'s like to be on the receiving end of a giant stick up the ass.&nbsp; Out of nowhere, three Humvees come flying onto the scene, guns blazing.&nbsp; The insurgents rush back to their trenches and adjust their fire towards the new threat.&nbsp; They manage to hit the middle of the three Hummers with an RPG round, but that only succeeds in making the Americans EVEN MORE PISSED.&nbsp; The roof-mounted .50 caliber machine guns are throwing out lead like a hyperactive ore miner, but the MPs are still taking hits and Sergeants Leigh Ann Hester and Timothy F. Nein realize that they need to get in there and start cracking skulls if their soldiers are going to make it out off this battle alive.&nbsp; They grab their rifles and a handful of grenades, bail out of their Humvee and sprint towards the nearest irrigation ditch.</p>\r\n<p>In her civilian life, Leigh was the manager of a retail store, and if you\'ve ever worked at a place like that, you KNOW that\'s a fucking tough job and you have to be a total hardass to do it.&nbsp; Well Sgt. Hester got to take out some of her pent-up aggression at dipshit customers on these hapless douchebag insurgents, as she went up and down the trenches capping assholes with her assault rifle and clearing the ditch system of enemy combatants.&nbsp; When she ran out of ammunition, she sprinted back to her Humvee, grabbed some extra mags, and ran right back into the battle.&nbsp; She even moked out an RPG-toting Iraqi out with her underbarrel-mounted M203 automatic grenade launcher.</p>\r\n<p>I sort of picture this going down like the climactic scene in&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/scarface.html\" target=\"blank\">Scarface</a>:</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/hester1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />Say hello to my little friend.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>When the dust had finally settled twenty-seven enemy fighters were dead, three were wounded, and one of them surrendered.&nbsp; None escaped.&nbsp; On top of that, Sgt. Hester and her troops seized a sizable weapons cache and saved a group of American soldiers and Iraqi civilians from almost certain death, while sustaining only three wounded out of their nine-man squad.&nbsp; Sergeant Hester\'s prowess on the battlefield, coupled with her effective skills training her soldiers to deal with any situation, led to the complete neutralization of a much larger enemy force and make her a definite badass.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www4.army.mil/ocpa/read.php?story_id_key=7472\" target=\"blank\">Army Awards MPs for Turning Table on Ambush</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.blackfive.net/main/2005/03/after_action_re.html\" target=\"blank\">BLACKFIVE After Action Report</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2005/06/16/AR2005061601551.html\" target=\"blank\">Washington Post Article</a></p>','2007-02-06','423646225941','hester_new.jpg','hester_new - Copy.jpg','Leigh Ann Hester','American MP who was the first woman to earn a silver star since WWII.',''),('Wesley Autrey','1956','N/A','United States','21st-century American Humanitarian','<p>Wesley Autry trudged through the turnstiles of the New York City Subway, headed for another boring, routine day.&nbsp; He was going to drop his two daughters off with their mother and then head out to his construction job where he would be helping to build a library downtown.&nbsp; It was all part of the daily grind, and he didn\'t really think anything of it.&nbsp; Then, all of a sudden, as he passed onto the Subway platform he saw a young man flip out, have a fucking seizure, and collapse on the Subway platform.</p>\r\n<p>Autry, being the good samaritan that he was, rushed over to help the guy, and was able to help him snap out of it.&nbsp; After a few minutes, the guy seemed to come back to his senses.&nbsp; Autry helped the man to his feet, and asked him if he was feeling alright.&nbsp; The guy looked at Autry but said nothing.&nbsp; Seconds later, his eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed again.</p>\r\n<p>This time, however, he didn\'t fall onto the relative safety of the platform.&nbsp; He fell off onto the fucking subway tracks.</p>\r\n<p>Wesley Autry unhesitatingly jumped down from the platform to help the kid.&nbsp; He grabbed the semi-conscious seizure victim, asked him if he was alright, and then quickly tried to lift him back up onto the platform.&nbsp; The kid was disoriented, unresponsive, and only semi-conscious.&nbsp; Wesley continued to try and get this dude up off the tracks when he heard a noise that made him sick to his stomach.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/autry2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />Um... oh shit.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>The train was coming down the track at breakneck speed.&nbsp; When faced with a split-second decision, Wesley Autry did what a true badass would do:&nbsp; He threw the kid down onto the tracks, jumped on top of him, and tried to get as close to the ground as possible.</p>\r\n<p>But even this wouldn\'t be easy.&nbsp; The other guy was so disoriented that he just started panicking and trying to fight Autry off of him.&nbsp; So Autry not only had to worry about the train hurtling towards him, but now he also had to wrestle this kid into a complete body lock if he wanted any chance of making it out of this alive.&nbsp; They fought briefly, Autry slapped a hold on this kid and flattened both of them to the ground.</p>\r\n<p>The train blew overhead so close to the two men that Wesley\'s wool hat was torn by the undercarriage of the subway car.&nbsp; It screeched to a halt, but both men were safe.&nbsp; Autry called out to assure his two daughters he was safe as the Subway Police went to work trying to extricate him from underneath the train.&nbsp; Twenty minutes later, Wesley Autry was being hailed as a hero.</p>\r\n<p>It\'s hard not to respect how balls-out it was of this guy to not only jump down onto the tracks to save a kid having a seizure, but to try and squeeze himself between the tracks and the bottom of the train.&nbsp; He very easily could have abandoned this kid to save himself, and his plan could have just as easily failed, but yet he risked his life to try and rescue someone in need.&nbsp; His courage and quick-thinking not only make him a badass;&nbsp; They make him a hero.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/autry3.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>','2007-01-26','796840927229','autry_new.jpg','autry_new - Copy.jpg','Wesley Autrey','Saved a film student from a moving subway train by jumping onto the tracks.',''),('Seaborn Beck Weathers','December 1946','N/A','Dallas, TX, USA','20th-century American Adventurer','<p>Seaborn Beck Weathers was a man with a mission.&nbsp; In May of 1996 he was going to climb the biggest, baddest, most perilous mountain on the planet.&nbsp; No, I\'m not talking about the&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/aggrocrag.html\" target=\"blank\">Aggro Crag</a>, I\'m talking about Mount Fucking Everest.&nbsp; Little did he know that what he was about to face would test his true measure as a human being and push him to the limits of human endurance.</p>\r\n<p>It was the morning of May 10th when Weathers and about two dozen other climbers decided to leave Camp IV and make their final assault towards the highest point on Earth, the summit of Everest, situated just over 29,000 feet above sea level.&nbsp; The team had spent the past three months working their way up the hulking mountain, attempting to acclimate themselves to the extreme cold and dealing with oxygen levels so low that the simple act of walking can easily exhaust a human.&nbsp; But on this day all of their hard work and training was going to pay off, and they would finally reach the summit of the world\'s most daunting mountain.</p>\r\n<p>But it was not meant to be for Beck Weathers.</p>\r\n<p>As Beck made his final climb towards the summit, he came down with an extreme case of snowblindness.&nbsp; Weathers had undergone corrective eye surgery years before, and on his way through Everest\'s \"Death Zone\" - a place where oxygen is so scarce that the human body shuts down vital organ systems such as the digestive tract simply to sustain life - the altitude began affecting his surgically-repaired eyes, blinding him to everything that was more than two or three feet in front of his face.&nbsp; He told his guide, an experienced New Zealand mountaineer named Rob Hall, about his condition.&nbsp; Hall made Weathers promise not to continue up the mountain, and told him to sit down and wait for Hall to return from the summit so they could both return together.</p>\r\n<p>So Beck Weathers sat.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/weathers1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>A few short hours after Beck halted his ascent, ominous clouds began to roll across the peak of the mountain.&nbsp; In the blink of an eye, Beck Weathers found himself in the middle of a raging blizzard.&nbsp; Seventy mile an hour winds and torrential waves of snow pelted the side of the mountain, assaulting Weathers with a wind chill that exceeded one hundred degrees below zero.&nbsp; Finally, a group of fellow climbers returning from the summit came upon Weathers and decided to try and help him down the mountain.&nbsp; He was short-roped by Australian guide Mike Groom, as the group desperately attempted to return to Camp IV.&nbsp; They did their best, despite whiteout conditions, but eventually the gale force winds, lack of oxygen and unrelenting storm forced the climbers to stop their search for shelter and huddle together for warmth.&nbsp; When there was finally a lull in the storm, Groom knew he had a small window with which to go for help.&nbsp; He left Weathers and four other climbers, all of whom were nearly unconscious, to return to camp for assistance.</p>\r\n<p>Help returned a few hours later.&nbsp; Three of the climbers were helped up and led back down to base camp, but Beck Weathers and Japanese climber Yasuko Namba had both fallen into hypothermic comas and were unresponsive.&nbsp; The rescuers decided that nothing could be done to save these people (the path was too perilous for other climbers to drag their unconscious bodies) and they were left for dead on the side of the mountain.</p>\r\n<p>All night Beck Weathers lay on his back, slowly freezing to death in the bitter cold.&nbsp; Though he was lying only 300 yards from his camp, at that altitude the distance might as well have been 300 miles.&nbsp; Hypothermia seized his body.&nbsp; Frostbite set in on his nose and both of his hands.&nbsp; Here would be his final resting place, buried under the snow and exposed to extreme cold, ice and wind.</p>\r\n<p>The next morning, two Sherpas returned to Beck and Nambas\'s position to check up on them.&nbsp; After chipping blocks of ice off of their faces, the Sherpas found both of them to be breathing, but severely frostbitten and \"as close to death as a human being can be\".&nbsp; The call once again was made to leave them for dead, since there was little that could have been done to save them even if they were able to drag the bodies back to camp (no small feat when you\'re 29,000 feet into the troposphere).&nbsp; The Sherpas slogged back to camp and reported Weathers and Namba\'s deaths.</p>\r\n<p>But then something incredible happened.&nbsp; Beck Weathers opened his eyes.</p>\r\n<p>Beck says that he saw his wife and kids standing in front of him, calling out to him like Obi-Wan Kenobi telling a dying Luke Skywalker to go seek out Yoda on the Dagobah system.&nbsp; At that moment, Seaborn Beck Weathers decided that he wanted to live.&nbsp; He slowly dragged himself to his feet and started walking.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>He was completely blind in one eye, which had been swollen shut by the cold. and had a visibility range of one to three feet in the other eye.&nbsp; His entire body was numb, and he was stupid from altitude sickness.&nbsp; Despite all his deficiencies, he was able to stumble three hundred yards into the searing cold wind in an incredible feat of endurance.&nbsp; Finally, against all odds and to the shock of everyone who witnessed it, Beck Weathers lurched into Camp IV.&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/weathers3.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<center>\r\n<blockquote>\r\n<blockquote>\r\n<blockquote><em>\"Initially I thought I was in a dream.&nbsp; Then I saw how badly frozen my right hand was, and that helped bring me around to reality.&nbsp; Finally I woke up enough to recognize that I was in deep shit and the cavalry wasn\'t coming so I better do something about it myself.\"</em></blockquote>\r\n</blockquote>\r\n</blockquote>\r\n</center>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Beck was treated for hypothermia and frostbite, and then helped back down the mountain to Camp III, where Lieutenant Colonel Madan Khatri Chhetri of the Nepalese Army pulled him from the mountain in the second-highest altitude helicopter rescue in human history.&nbsp; He returned home and ended up losing both of his hands to frostbite and having to have his nose reconstructed from skin grafts, but this didn\'t slow him down.&nbsp; He found a new respect for life,&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.amazon.com/Left-Dead-Journey-Home-Everest/dp/0375504044\" target=\"blank\">wrote a book</a>, salvaged his marriage (which was on the rocks) and now works as a motivational speaker.</p>\r\n<p>The expedition Weathers was on would go on to be chronicled in the best-selling book&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.amazon.com/Into-Thin-Air-Personal-Disaster/dp/0385492081\" target=\"blank\">\"Into Thin Air\"</a>&nbsp;by Jon Krakauer.&nbsp; Five people died on the mountain that day in one of the greatest tragedies in the history of Everest.&nbsp; But despite having all the odds against him, spending twenty-two hours in the harshest, most unforgiving climate on the planet, and being left for dead&nbsp;<em>twice</em>, Beck Weathers showed that real badasses don\'t give up.&nbsp; They get shit done.&nbsp; They&nbsp;<em>survive</em>.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/weathers2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<blockquote>\r\n<p>I was lying on my back in the ice.&nbsp; It was colder than anything you can believe.&nbsp; I figured I had three or four hours left to live, so I started walking.&nbsp; All I knew was, as long as my legs would run, and I could stand up, I was going to move toward that camp, and if I fell down, I was going to get up.&nbsp; And if I fell down again, I was going to get up, and I was going to keep moving until I either hit that camp, I couldn\'t get up at all, or I walked off the face of that mountain.&nbsp;</p>\r\n<center>-Beck Weathers</center>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n</blockquote>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://outside.away.com/outside/destinations/199609/199609_into_thin_air_1.html\" target=\"blank\">Into Thin Air</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://media.www.californiaaggie.com/media/storage/paper981/news/2005/01/13/Arts/Everest.Disaster.Survivor.Beck.Weathers.Tells.His.Story-1319168.shtml?sourcedomain=www.californiaaggie.com&amp;MIIHost=media.collegepublisher.com\" target=\"blank\">Everest Survivor Tells His Story</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://home.earthlink.net/~iwonder/thoughts.htm\" target=\"blank\">Beck Weathers</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://chucknacke.com/everest02.html\" target=\"blank\">Gallery of photos taken during the 1996 Everest Expedition</a></p>','2007-01-26','901383328286','weathers_new1.jpg','weathers_new - Copy.jpg','Beck Weathers','Almost died scaling Mount Everest, but ended up walking down the mountain, in the dark, with frostbite in nearly every single appendage.',''),('Eric Nerhus','1965','N/A','Australia','21st-century Australian Adventurer','<p>There aren\'t a whole lot of things out there that scare me.&nbsp; I can handle bugs.&nbsp; I don\'t mind snakes.&nbsp; I don\'t get claustrophobic and I\'m not scared of heights.&nbsp; Even spiders are OK I guess.&nbsp; But one creature that skeeves the ever-loving piss out of me is sharks.&nbsp; I hate the damn things, but yet in an interesting twist I am totally fascinated by them and torment myself every single year by watching all of&nbsp;<em>Shark Week</em>&nbsp;on the Discovery Channel.&nbsp; Despite my morbid fascination, however, I know that if I was ever actually in the water with one of them I\'d probably have a fucking heart attack and die on the spot.&nbsp; I mean, just look at this motherfucking picture and tell me you wouldn\'t crap your wet suit if you had to go face-to-face with one of these unrelenting merciless killing machines in it\'s natural habitat:</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/ericnerhus1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>I mean WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK?!?!&nbsp; Holy shit I can\'t even look at this picture without flinching (because apparently I\'m such a damned pussy).&nbsp; The thing just looks evil.&nbsp; Like the sort of thing that desperate Medieval Kings should send fucking knights out to slay or something.</p>\r\n<p>Well 41-year old diver Eric Nerhus was out off the coast of&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/australia.html\" target=\"blank\">Australia</a>&nbsp;this week foraging for bologna or something, just minding his own business, when all of a sudden everything went dark and a sharp painful stinging sensation coursed throughout his entire body.&nbsp; He quickly realized that he was having a first-person encounter with this:</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/ericnerhus2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>He quickly realized that A MOTHERFUCKING GREAT WHITE SHARK BIT HIS HEAD and he was now all up in the grille of a 10 foot-long eating machine.&nbsp; The thing caught him completely off-guard, sinking it\'s teeth into his head and shoulders and driving his dive mask into his face, breaking his nose.&nbsp; Then the shark took a second bite, chomping down on Eric\'s back and torso, driving it\'s rows of razor-sharp teeth through his diving suit and puncturing his skin in its effort to devour this wayward mollusk-hunter.</p>\r\n<p>I\'ve photoshopped a couple of pictures to help give you a better visual of what Eric was going through:</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/ericnerhus3.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p><br /><br /></p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/ericnerhus4.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Now at this point most of us would just go \"oh fuck\" and then become fish food for the deadliest and most efficient predator on the planet.&nbsp; But not Eric.&nbsp; He was a badass.</p>\r\n<p>Eric used the one arm that wasn\'t inside the shark\'s mouth to start&nbsp;<em>punching the fuck out of the shark</em>.&nbsp; Think about that for a minute.&nbsp; This guy is in the process of being eaten, and he has the presence of mind, the determination and the balls-outitude to start wailing on this thing like fucking Rocky Balboa at the New England Aquarium.&nbsp; He\'s punching this ten-foot long, two ton shark in the fucking eye, desperately trying to free himself from this thing\'s mouth and prevent himself from doing a real-life re-enactment of&nbsp;<em><a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jaws:_The_Revenge\" target=\"blank\">Jaws 4:&nbsp; The Revenge</a></em>.&nbsp; Finally, the shark got sick of having the shit beaten out of it and let Eric go.&nbsp; He swam up to the surface, was pulled out of the water by his son, and rushed to the hospital for treatment.</p>\r\n<p>Eric Nerhus is a total fucking badass.&nbsp; He was completely surprise attacked by one of the Earth\'s most feared predators, and ended up kicking it\'s ass.&nbsp; He was about fifteen seconds from becoming two hundred pounds of chum, but instead of panicking and letting himself be devoured he fought his way back (literally) from the jaws of death.&nbsp; It all just sort of reminds me of this motivational picture my Mom always had hanging in her office at work:</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/dontgiveup.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.theaustralian.news.com.au/story/0,20867,21108533-5006784,00.html\" target=\"blank\">Australian News</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20070123/sc_nm/australia_shark_dc\" target=\"blank\">Yahoo! News</a></p>','2007-01-26','472269329204','ericnerhus_new1.jpg','ericnerhus_new - Copy.jpg','Eric Nerhus','Eaten by a shark and survived. By a SHARK. ',''),('Cúchulainn','N/A','N/A','Ireland','Mythological Irish Warrior','<p>Cuchulainn was an unstoppable warrior hero in Irish legend who was renowned throughout the British Isles for his unmatched prowess in combat, his superhuman deeds, his&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1dmVU08zVpA\" target=\"blank\">Justin Timberlake</a>-like good looks and his infamous \"Warp Spasm\" - a violent bloodthirsty berserker rage which caused his face to contort into hideous positions, made his hair to stand up on end, and prompted one of his eyes to bulge out of his head, making him look like the sort of like the \"pwned\" face&nbsp;<img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/emot-pwn.gif\" alt=\"\" align=\"top\" />&nbsp;while he totally flipped out, felt no pain and cut down his enemies like a lawnmower hacking up grass at a country club for rich jerks.</p>\r\n<p>As a young man, Cuchulainn was a champion at Hurling, the traditional Irish sport where a bunch of guys take these big-ass shillelaghs and whack lead cannonballs at each other\'s heads (think field hockey meets baseball meets 17th century nautical warfare).&nbsp; But Cuchulainn wasn\'t the sort of guy who would be satisfied just by being the Michael Jordan of the National Hurling League, so one day he headed out to join the illustrious order of warriors known as the Red Branch Knights.&nbsp; Well his first day on the job he was supposed to go to a party at the home of this guy named Culain.&nbsp; Culain was well-known throughout the island as having the biggest, meanest, most ferocious and fearsome guard dog in all of Ireland, sort of like Clifford the Big Red Dog crossed with a starving Pit Bull and a food processor.&nbsp; Well Cuchulainn showed up late to the party, and this dog completely flipped out and started trying to tear him a new esophagus.&nbsp; In self-defense, Cuchulainn swung his hurling stick and killed the fucking crazy dog.&nbsp; When everybody saw what he had done, they gained considerable respect for Cuchulainn\'s strength but were understandably pretty upset that this kid had just moked out their friend\'s dog.&nbsp; Cuchulainn volunteered to act as Culain\'s personal guard dog until he could train a replacement, and he proved to be one of the best guards Culain ever had (Cuchulainn actually translates to \"The Hound of Culain\", a nickname Cuchulainn loved so much he used as his own personal name from this point on).</p>\r\n<p>For the next few years, Cuchulainn rose through the ranks of the Red Branch Knights.&nbsp; He was young, beardless, and by all accounts one of the most attractive men in the country, so obviously he had all these chicks falling all over him all the time.&nbsp; Since most of the guys around him were starting to a little jealous (and a little worried that he was going to pull a dickbox on one of their desparate housewives), they told Cuchulainn that he needed to hurry up and get married.&nbsp; Cuchulainn eventually fell in love and decided he wanted to marry the beautiful princess Emer, daughter of Lord Forgal the Wily.&nbsp; Well when Cuchulainn finally got up the sack to ask Emer for her hand in marriage, she was all like, \"yo I don\'t want no scrubs\", and told him he wasn\'t distinguished enough to be her man, and that she also couldn\'t marry someone who wasn\'t at least a Level 10 Fighter with +1 to beard growing.</p>\r\n<p>So Cuchulainn headed off to Dun Scaith, the Fort of Shadows, on the Isle of Skye in Scotland to train with the hardass warrior goddess Scathach.&nbsp; He passed several tests in his effort to brave the countryside and reach her, leaping gorges, climbing mountains and fording rivers.&nbsp; When he finally got to her, she agreed to train him in the art of warfare.&nbsp; For many years he studied under her, learning all he could about combat and finally being trained in the use of the Legendary Gae Bolg Spear.</p>\r\n<p>The Gae Bolg was a huge barbed spear constructed from the bones of a giant sea monster, and served as Cuchulainn\'s personal weapon from this point on.&nbsp; He would swing it around, and then kick it at his enemies.&nbsp; As soon as it penetrated a man\'s skin, thirty barbs would shoot out of it, killing the person instantly.&nbsp; Since the barbs sort of made it act like a hardware anchor, the only way to remove it from a person was to cut it out of their dead body with a sword.&nbsp; Now that\'s hardcore.</p>\r\n<p>Now towards the end of Cuchulainn\'s training, Scathach\'s bitchy sister Aoife showed up on the island to battle her as part of their neverending blood feud.&nbsp; Cuchulainn offered to help fight Aoife, but Scathach didn\'t want to risk it.&nbsp; Aoife was the most dangerous fighter in the world, and Scathach knew that Cuchulainn wouldn\'t be a match for her in combat.&nbsp; So on the day they were supposed to have their duel she slipped a bunch of NyQuil into Cuchulainn\'s coffee to make him pass out and sleep through the epic clash that was about to take place.&nbsp; Well Cuchulainn had a&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.wizards.com/default.asp?x=dnd/glossary&amp;term=Glossary_dnd_Constitution&amp;alpha=+%22\" target=\"blank\">CON</a>of like 17, so this shit didn\'t work on him.&nbsp; He woke up right as the contest was starting and rushed out to defend his master.&nbsp; Cuchulainn and Aoife dueled for several hours, before Cuchulainn finally bested her.&nbsp; He offered to spare her life if she swore to end her feud with Scathach, which she did.&nbsp; Then he seduced her and they got busy.&nbsp; Booya.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/cuchulainn5.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>With his training complete, Cuchulainn headed home on his war steed, Grey of Battle.&nbsp; As he reached his homeland of Ulster he found it under attack by the warriors of Nechtan.&nbsp; Seeing his kinsmen fighting for their lives set Cuchulain off into his Warp Spasm and he started flipping out like a ninja, decapitating Nechtan warriors all over the place and lacing them in the gut with the Gae Bolg.&nbsp; Even after the enemies were all killed, Cuchulainn continued to flip out like a psycho and attack anything that moved, so King Conchobar of Ulster sent like 100 hot naked babes to go chill him out.&nbsp; Now we all know that no man worth his flipping-out ability would attack a hot naked babe for no reason at all, and when Cuchulainn saw all these topless babes running towards him he decided to put his weapons away and maybe stop using so much&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.consideryourselfwarned.com/\" target=\"blank\">Tag body spray</a>.</p>\r\n<p>Now that he had proven himself as a war hero by fucking up the Nechtans, Cuchulainn went back to the castle of Forgal the Wily to ask again for Emer\'s hand in marriage.&nbsp; Lord Forgal did not approve of Cuchulainn at all, but Emer was in love with him and agreed anyways.&nbsp; Forgal heard this and flipped the fuck out.&nbsp; He locked Emer in a castle tower and started trying to marry her off to other nearby lords.&nbsp; Well this shit didn\'t fly with Cuchulainn.&nbsp; He stormed the castle like Sir Lancelot in&nbsp;<em>Monty Python and the Holy Grail</em>, killing twenty-five guards and knocking Forgal the Wily off the castle walls with a Bruce Lee style front kick.&nbsp; Cuchulainn broke into the tower, rescued Emer, and then sacked Forgal\'s treasury just for the fuck of it before riding off into the sunset and marrying the girl of his dreams.&nbsp; Now if that isn\'t awesome then I don\'t know what is.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/cuchulainn3.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>A few years later, the men of Ulster went to war with the armies of Queen Medb of Connacht.&nbsp; The Queen put the Ulstermen under a spell that would make them feel labour pains constantly, and while women are tough and can handle physical pain like eyebrow plucking and waxing their bikini lines and birthing and shit, men are total pussies when it comes to that stuff.&nbsp; So the Ulstermen were all rolling around crying and complaining and doing nothing, and Queen Medb sent her forces in to invade the now-undefended land of Ulster.</p>\r\n<p>Now Cuchulainn was still very young and still very beardless, and for some unexplained reason this meant he was unaffected by Queen Medb\'s bizarre ability to simultaneously kick every single man in the nation of Ulster directly in the ballsack over and over again.&nbsp; Driven by his duty to protect his homeland, he alone marched out to meet the Queen\'s forces.&nbsp; When he finally came face-to-face with the Connacht army, he challenged them all to a Rite of Combat.&nbsp; He boasted that he would battle one champion from the Connacht forces each day in the ford of the River Dee.&nbsp; The Queen agreed that her army would not invade Ulster as long as Cuchulainn controlled the ford, and she would send one of her greatest warriors out to duel him every single day until he was finally defeated.</p>\r\n<p>For roughly two weeks Cuchulainn slaughtered all challengers he faced.&nbsp; At one point, Medb actually sent the Druid Calatin and his twenty-seven kids out to face him.&nbsp; All the Druid\'s kids poisoned their spears, but Cuchulainn was still able to defeat all of them, thanks to a timely run-in by his foster father Fergus.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/cuchulainn7.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Finally, Queen Medb got sick of this shit and sent her greatest fighter out to battle Cuchulainn - the knight Ferdidad.&nbsp; Ferdidad and Cuchulainn had trained together as boys and were good friends and blood brothers.&nbsp; They duelled for three days straight before Cuchulainn finally dropped him with the Gae Bolg.&nbsp; Unfortunately, the battle had left him so drained and wounded that he could not continue to defend the ford.</p>\r\n<p>The next morning, as things were looking their worst, the Ulstermen snapped out of their curse and formed up for battle.&nbsp; In the ensuing fight, the men of Ulster were able to defeat Medb\'s army and drive them out of their homeland.&nbsp; Cuchulainn had saved the day, single-handedly holding off the Connacht army until reinforcements could arrive.</p>\r\n<p>Many years later, Cuchulainn inadvertently pissed off the goddess Morrigan by refusing to boink her when she showed up at his front door wearing nothing but a silk robe and some sexy lingerie.&nbsp; She was so pissed at him that she tricked him into breaking his lifelong oath never to eat hound meat, and then sent a group of Druids out to murder him.&nbsp; Cuchulainn fought the Druids, killing several of them, but eventually was mortally wounded by a magical spear.&nbsp; Dying, Cuchulainn stumbled over to a large rock and tied himself to it so that even in death he could face his enemies standing.&nbsp; His death was later avenged by Conall the Victorious.</p>\r\n<p>Cuchulainn is considered by many to be the greatest hero of medieval Ireland.&nbsp; He was brave, strong, and knew how to flip out and kill people when he had to.&nbsp; He got all the babes, he had a crazy magical weapon, he rescued the girl from a castle tower and he single-handedly defended his country against an entire army.&nbsp; He even had his death avenged.&nbsp; That\'s everything you could ask for from a medieval badass.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/cuchulainn6.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />Statue of Cuchulainn tied to the rock.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.shee-eire.com/magic&amp;mythology/Warriors&amp;Heroes/Warriors/Males/Cuchulainn/Page1.htm\" target=\"blank\">The Celtic Warrior Cuchulainn</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/celt/cuch/\" target=\"blank\">Cuchulain of Muirthemne Full Text</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.timelessmyths.com/celtic/ulster.html#Cuchulainn\" target=\"blank\">Timeless Myths: Cu Chulainn</a></p>','2007-01-19','934964830454','cuchulainn4_new1.jpg','cuchulainn4_new - Copy.jpg','Cuchulainn','The Irish Chuck Norris.',''),('The Sateré Mawé','N/A','N/A','Brazil','21st-century Brazilian Warrior','<p>This site, true to it\'s insectophobia, has routinely and sufficiently demonstrated&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/beetle.html\" target=\"blank\">the evils of bugs</a>&nbsp;in many of its writings. However, I think it\'s about time to show the viewing public something truly unprecedented and awe-inspiring - human bravery in the face of diabolical insects. But first we must become acquainted with the main antagonist:&nbsp;<em>Paraponera Clavata</em>.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/satere1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />Holy fucking shit.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Otherwise known as the Bullet Ant, this little spawn of Satan has that name for a very goddamned good reason:&nbsp; its venom is a deadly neurotoxin that causes violent and ungodly pain (like a bullet - get it?) for over 24 hours.&nbsp; According to the long-winded research paper of some old and crusty entomologist who I am just quoting for jollies and to compensate for my child-like intellect,&nbsp;<em>additional</em>&nbsp;symptoms of a Bullet Ant sting may also include \"systemic manifestations [such] as fever, trembling, cold sweating, nausea, vomiting, lymphadenopathy and cardiac arrhythmias.\"&nbsp; Did I mention it fucking hurts?&nbsp; Well apparently there is an objective measure of pain caused by insect stings called the&nbsp;<a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schmidt_Sting_Pain_Index\" target=\"blank\">Schmidt Pain Index</a>, and the Bullet Ant\'s sting is rated as the most painful&nbsp;<em>among all known insects</em>.</p>\r\n<p>They\'re also huge fucking ants. Scary.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/satere2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />A huge fucking ant.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Deadly neurotoxin, voracious appetite, and unimaginable size, the Bullet Ant is not one to be fucked with lightly. I suppose&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/australia.html\" target=\"blank\">pure, overwhelming evil</a>isn\'t limited to one continent. I mean seriously, what - or who - could possibly stand before the apocalyptic wrath of&nbsp;<em>Paraponera Clavata</em>?</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/satere3.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>These guys. That\'s fucking who.&nbsp; The Sater&eacute;-Maw&eacute; are a small, indigenous Amazonian tribe who look certain death in the eye and stand their ground, whereas even the most cutthroat of pagan warlords would certainly turn tail and pee themselves like a little weak-wristed mongrel.</p>\r\n<p>These bold fools use Bullet Ants as integral parts of their particular manhood rituals.&nbsp; The village shaman will collect a hive\'s worth of the ant-demons and drug them unconscious.&nbsp; He then weaves the ants into a bunch of wicker gloves so that their stingers and mandibles protrude out of every angle.&nbsp; Then the death ritual begins.</p>\r\n<p>All boys who wish to ascend to manhood must WEAR THESE GLOVES with angry, venom-laced hell-bugs for over 30 minutes.&nbsp; They must endure the white-hot pain without showing any signs of discomfort, or they will have to start the ritual over from the beginning.&nbsp; Once the ritual is over, many times the hands and limbs of the prospective men violently spasm for days after the ceremony.</p>\r\n<p>And then they have to do it 24 more times.&nbsp; Yes, that\'s right.&nbsp; In order to fully ascend to the highest rank of the tribal hierarchy (Level +10 neutral evil warlock), Sater&eacute;-Maw&eacute; adolescent males have to brave this immeasurable agony at least 25 times.&nbsp; And you thought&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/atreides.html\" target=\"blank\">Paul Atreides</a>&nbsp;was badass for sticking his hand in that weird-ass Bene Gesserit pain machine, or whatever those fucking crazy bald-headed women call it.&nbsp; Fuck that.&nbsp; He didn\'t have eight tons of ridiculously powerful ant venom coursing through his veins, and he only had to do it once.&nbsp; The Sater&eacute;-Maw&eacute; totally pwn everyone in the arena of pain endurance, and the sooner we come to our senses and admit this truth, the better off we\'ll be.&nbsp; God, the Sater&eacute;-Maw&eacute; are totally badass.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/satere4.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/satere.pdf\">PDF File about The Sater&eacute; Maw&eacute; and Bullet Ants</a></p>','2007-01-12','826774332540','sateremawa-new.jpg','sateremawa-new - Copy.jpg','The Sateré Mawé','Keepers of the Bullet Ants, which is exactly what it sounds like.',''),('Marion Mitchell Morrison','May 26, 1907','June 11, 1979','Winterset, IA, USA','20th-century American Entertainer','<p>Say what you want about his rabid right-wing political beliefs - John Wayne was one of the most hard-nosed, meanest, most badass motherfuckers in American film history and the ultimate tough guy for his generation.&nbsp; He was the consummate Western hero, creating and defining a role as a hard-drinking, hard-fighting ass-kicking gunslinger who would punch his own mother in the face just for looking at him funny.&nbsp; Just listen to this Wayne quote and tell me this man was not as hard as a fucking railroad spike:</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<blockquote>\r\n<blockquote><em><em>\"I made up my mind that I was going to play a real man to the best of my ability.&nbsp; I felt many of the Western stars of the twenties and thirties were too goddamn perfect.&nbsp; They never drank or smoked.&nbsp; They never wanted to go to bed with a beautiful girl.&nbsp; They never had a fight.&nbsp; A heavy might throw a chair at them, and they just looked surprised and didn\'t fight in this spirit.&nbsp; They were too goddamn sweet and pure to be dirty fighters.&nbsp; Well, I wanted to be a dirty fighter if that was the only way to fight back.&nbsp; If someone throws a chair at you, hell, you pick up a chair and belt him right back.&nbsp; I was trying to play a man who gets dirty, who sweats sometimes, who enjoys kissing a gal he likes, who gets angry, who fights clean whenever possible but will fight dirty if he has to.&nbsp; You could say I made the Western hero a roughneck.\"</em></em>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n</blockquote>\r\n</blockquote>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Wayne\'s specialty lied primarily in Westerns and War movies, and his penchant for being a tough ass bastard who was not to be fucked around with catapulted him into an iconic status, defining what many men though a badass American should be.&nbsp; He didn\'t let himself get jerked around, he could beat the shit out of anybody who faced him, and he didn\'t hesitate when it was time to pull his weapon and start laying down a hail of gunfire.&nbsp; He also had a righteous code of honor;&nbsp; He wouldn\'t shoot you in the back or kill an unarmed man, but he wasn\'t a chump about it either.&nbsp; He wasn\'t going to let somebody get the jump on him, and he knew that if it came down to him or the other guy, he was going to make damn sure he was the one who walked away from the fight.&nbsp; Fuck, I think the guy even punched a goddamned horse in the face once.&nbsp; He was the original movie badass, paving the way for future Western tough guy heroes like&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/eastwood.html\" target=\"blank\">Clint Eastwood</a>&nbsp;and inspiring a generation of American soldiers to kick asses for their country.&nbsp; His legendary feats of movie badassery not only got his face on a fucking postage stamp, but the President actually issued him a motherfucking Congressional Medal of Honor.&nbsp; It read:</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><em>John Wayne:&nbsp; American</em></p>\r\n<table style=\"width: 90%;\" cellpadding=\"15\" align=\"center\">\r\n<tbody>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-johnwayne1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></td>\r\n<td align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-johnwayne2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></td>\r\n</tr>\r\n</tbody>\r\n</table>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><em>\"I would like to be remembered, well... the Mexicans have a phrase, \'Feo fuerte y formal\'.<br />&nbsp; Which means;&nbsp; he was ugly, strong and had dignity.\"</em></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Link:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Wayne\" target=\"blank\">Wikipedia</a></p>','2007-01-05','93505312484','badass-johnwayne_new.jpg','badass-johnwayne_new - Copy.jpg','John Wayne','The quintessential American.','\"I want to play a real man in all my films, and I define manhood simply:\r\nmen should be tough, fair, and courageous, never petty,\r\nnever looking for a fight, but never backing down from one either.\"\r\n'),('Giuseppe Garibaldi','July 4, 1807','June 2, 1882','Nice, First French Empire','19th-century Italian Guerilla','<p>Giusesppi Garibaldi was an Italian sailor and merchant marine who became a national hero and a legend throughout Europe.&nbsp; He sailed out on his first boat at age fifteen and spent twelve years living the salty life of a sea dog before joining up with the Italian Unification Movement - a step that would change his life forever.</p>\r\n<p>See, back in the early 19th century, Italy was just a giant clusterfuck of independent states, each of which pretty much did their own thing and didn\'t give a crap about anyone else.&nbsp; Well a lot of Italian people thought that this was fucking gay, and so they were determined to unify the Italian peninsula and establish their country as a dominant power in Europe.&nbsp; Garibaldi joined up with this group, and in 1834 he sailed to the Italian kingdom of Piedmont attempting to incite a revolution which would sweep across the Italian countryside and bring Italy to it\'s rightful place of power in the European world.</p>\r\n<p>It didn\'t really work out.&nbsp; You see, Italy shares a border with Austria, and Austria really wasn\'t all that keen on having to deal with a unified, powerful Italy.&nbsp; When the Austrians heard about Garibaldi\'s uprising, they sent their battle-hardened pound-you-in-the-ass troops to Piedmont and crushed the peasant army.&nbsp; Garibaldi barely escaped with his life, and was sentenced to death in absentia by the Austrian crown.</p>\r\n<p>Well Garibaldi didn\'t like the idea of being hung for treason, so he bailed out to South America.&nbsp; He shipwrecked on the Brazilian coast, and was promptly shot through the neck by some stupid asshole.&nbsp; This wasn\'t enough to stop him though, it only served to make him super fucking angry.&nbsp; He joined up with the Rio Grande do Sul Separatists in Brazil in their struggle for freedom against the oppressive Brazilian government.&nbsp; After that he traveled to Uraguay, where he would meet his wife Anita.&nbsp; She was a tough broad, who followed him throughout his travels fighting alongside him.&nbsp; Together they aided the Uruguayan gauchos in their fight for freedom against Argentine Imperialism, leading lightning raids through the Uruguayan jungle and riding around on alpacas.&nbsp; He mastered guerilla war and created the Italian Legion, a rebel force of Italian exiles and republicans aiding the Uruguayans.&nbsp; His sweeping victories at the Battles of Cerro and Sant\'Antonio in 1846 secured the Uruguayans\' freedom and made Garibaldi a legendary hero throughout Italy and Europe.</p>\r\n<p>After 14 years in South America, Garibaldi returned to Italy in 1848 with 80 men dedicated to unify the peninsula.&nbsp; His first goal was to take Rome from the Pope and his army of Popers.&nbsp; Garibaldi landed on the Italian coast, recruiting along the way as he marched on the Vatican.&nbsp; He triumphantly entered the city as a hero, while the Pope fled for safer pastures.&nbsp; However, Garibaldi\'s army was simply too small to defend the city, and a vicious counterattack by French and Papal forces forced him out.&nbsp; The Pope was reinstated, and Garibaldi barely managed to escape the country by way of the Alps as he was being chased after by Austrians, Spaniards, Portuguese, dogs, foxes, and the French.&nbsp; His wife Anita died during the flight, refusing to leave Garibaldi\'s side.</p>\r\n<p>Garibaldi headed to New York, where he worked as a candlemaker for a while, which I guess is pretty sweet.&nbsp; He returned to Italy in 1854 to lead his guerilla force, The Hunters of the Alps, in the Austro-Piedmontese War against Austria.&nbsp; His dedicated men won several battles, but the main Italian army was ultimately defeated.</p>\r\n<p>However, this wasn\'t enough to discourage Garibaldi, and he mobilized once again in 1859 with one thousand men determined to unite the Italian kingdoms.&nbsp; The One Thousand (i mille) landed on the west coast of Sicily and promptly marched towards the Sicilian capital of Palermo.&nbsp; Despite being outnumbered twenty to one and being severely outgunned, Garibaldi was able to get the best of the Sicilians in several battles, and ultimately managed to set siege to Palermo.&nbsp; When the Palermo townsfolk heard that Garibaldi was outside the gates, they rose up against the garrison in town, kicked their asses, and welcomed him into town as a hero.</p>\r\n<p>With Sicily captured, Garibaldi used his immense popularity to raise many more troops before heading off to the mainland to deal with the army of Naples.&nbsp; His forces marched through Southern Italy being hailed as heroes and bringing more men into their ranks and winning battle after battle.&nbsp; The King of Naples fled the capital, and Garibaldi marched in to a crowd waiting for him with open arms.&nbsp; He went after the deposed king and won his final victory in 1860, accomplishing his goal of unifying Italy under the rule of King Victor Emmanuel II.&nbsp; Garibaldi would go on to fight against the Austrians a few more times, and would even lead a volunteer force against the Prussians in the Franco-Prussian War.</p>\r\n<p>Giuseppe Garibaldi was a dedicated freedom fighter and revolutionary, who battled injustice and inequality throughout the globe.&nbsp; He fought for the rights of the individual, battled reactonary jackasses wherever he could find them, and won unbelievable success on the battlefield.&nbsp; He\'s also got at least two cities and a mountain named after him, which is more than a lot of badasses can say.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-garibaldi.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p><br /><br /></p>\r\n<blockquote>\r\n<blockquote><span><span>\"Garibaldi went to sea at fifteen and sailed the Mediterrenean for twelve years... sentenced to death in 1834 for his part in a revolutionary uprising in Genoa he barely escaped to South America and for twelve years led a guerilla band in Uruguay\'s struggle for independence from Argentina, \"Shipwrecked, ambushed, shot through the neck\" he found a tough young woman, Anna da Silva, a mate and companion in arms. Their first children nearly starved in the jungle while Garibaldi, clad in his long red shirt, fashioned a legend as a Freedom Fighter.</span></span>\r\n<p>Returning to Italy in 1848 his patriotic volunteer army mobilized nationalists against Austria in 1848 and 1859.\" He invaded Sicily with a thousand men in 1859 and managed to completely outwit the 20,000 man strong Sicilian army, taking Palermo. \"He never drew any personal profit from his exploits, continuing to milk his goats and rarely possessing more than one change of clothing.\" When Victor Emanuel offered him lands and titles after the unification in 1861, even as his left-leaning volunteers were disbanded and humiliated, Garibaldi declined, saying he would not be bought off... welcoming Runaway slaves in Latin America, advocating the emancipation of women, introducing social reforms in the south and pressing for free education and a broader suffrage in the new Italy, Garibaldi the national hero fought for freedom and human dignity.\"</p>\r\n</blockquote>\r\n</blockquote>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Giuseppe_Garibaldi\" target=\"blank\">Wikipedia</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.italian-american.com/garib-it.htm\" target=\"blank\">Famous Italians</a></p>','2006-12-22','826774322885','badass_garibaldi1_new.jpg','badass_garibaldi1_new - Copy.jpg','Giuseppe Garibaldi','Didn\'t matter what country he was in, he wanted some freedom goddamnit.',''),('Ramachandra','N/A','N/A','India','Mythological Indian God','<p>There\'s a reason why all sorts of awesome shit ends with the suffix \"-Rama\".&nbsp; The Indian Lord Rama, believed by the faithful to be one of the incarnations of the Lord Vishnu Himself, was an ideal man, a totally badass warrior and archer, and a hero who went on an epic quest to save his wife from the clutches of demons, monsters and all sorts of crazy evil shit.&nbsp; His tale, the&nbsp;<em>Ramayana</em>&nbsp;is one of the two major epic tales in Hindu literature.</p>\r\n<p>Rama was the first born son of the good Emperor Dasharatha of Ayodhya.&nbsp; He was trained in archery at an early age by the all-knowing sage Vasishta, who was sort of like Merlin the Magician except instead of pulling rabbits out of hats he taught the God of Life how to pop motherfuckers in the eye with an arrow from two thousand paces.&nbsp; In addition to becoming a peerless killing machine, Rama also learned the meaning of dharma, duty, and honor, and how to apply these noble teaching to his daily life.</p>\r\n<p>One day, Rama was walking along when he heard about some shit that was going down in a nearby kingdom.&nbsp; It turned out that the super mega babe Princess Sita was holding a contest, where she agreed to marry any man who was able to string up the Legendary Bow of Shiva.&nbsp; Now for you chumps who aren\'t hip to Hindu Mythology, Shiva is the &uuml;ber-badass God of Destruction.&nbsp; He\'s like all&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/horsemen.html\" target=\"blank\">four horsemen</a>&nbsp;rolled up into one multi-armed ass smasher, and his bow was the sort of mammoth monstrosity that would only be practical for such an all-powerful badass.&nbsp; Getting a bowline on this fucker was like trying to string up a goddamn siege engine.&nbsp; Well, since Sita was so insanely hot, like five thousands dudes lined up to try and string this damn bow.&nbsp; None of them got even close.&nbsp; So just when Sita was starting to get disappointed that nobody in the land was man enough to be her husband, Rama saunters up to the bow\'s resting place.&nbsp; He takes one look at it, cracks his knuckles, and not only strings it up, but pulls the bowstring back so far that he&nbsp;<em>cracks the fucking thing in half</em>.&nbsp; Then I imagine he probably threw the pieces down on the floor, shrugged and said something like, \"I don\'t get what the big deal is about this thing\".</p>\r\n<p>Well obviously Sita swooned, like any good babe would, and Rama had a totally awesome chick for a wife.&nbsp; They had a lavish wedding ceremony, and you KNOW that Indian people do not fuck around when it comes to throwing a kickass wedding bash.&nbsp; That shit lasts for like a week, and everybody like wakes up in a daze and completely covered in henna tattoos.&nbsp; Indian weddings totally rock the house big time.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/rama-aishwarya.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />I imagine Sita as being almost as hot at Aishwarya Rai.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>A couple years later, Emperor Dasharatha decided he was going to retire and spend his final days seeking spiritual enlightenment, so since Rama was his first-born son he appointed him to be the co-Emperor of his kingdom.&nbsp; Well this didn\'t sit to well with Dasharatha\'s second wife, who felt that her son Bharata should be the king.&nbsp; She called in a favor Dasharatha owed her, and insisted that Bharata be made king and that Rama be exiled for fourteen years.&nbsp; Dasharatha begrudgingly agreed, but the anguish of this decision led to his death shortly thereafter.</p>\r\n<p>When Rama was told that he needed to get the fuck out of Dodge, he didn\'t flip out and get pissed about it.&nbsp; He knew that it was his duty to be obedient to his father\'s wishes, so he left the kingdom immediately with his wife and his little brother Lakshmana.&nbsp; They found a totally kickass garden called Chitrakuta and set up their new home living in a virtual paradise on Earth.</p>\r\n<p>Unfortunately some shit started to go down in their new home before too long.&nbsp; Rama heard that some nearby priests were being harassed by a group of cannibalistic demons known as Rakshasas.&nbsp; Of course, being the good Princes that they were, Rama and his bro went out and laid the ever-loving smackdown on the demons, killing most of them and chasing the rest out of the forest.&nbsp; They also made friends with the Vulture King Jatayu, which is pretty sweet.</p>\r\n<p>Well one Rakshasa named Surpanakha decided she thought Rama was hot, so she morphed into a mega hot babe and tried to seduce him.&nbsp; Of course, Rama was a stand-up guy so this attempt failed miserably.&nbsp; Surpanakha got pissed and revealed herself as the demoness she was and lunged at Rama, but Rama\'s brother chopped off her nose and ears like a bitch.&nbsp; She ran home to her brother Ravana, who swore vengeance.&nbsp; Ravana tricked Rama and Lakshmana out of their home, and then snuck in and kidnapped Sita, throwing her in the back of his flying chariot and taking off like a gangsta.&nbsp; When Rama and Lakshmana returned to find their hut empty, they knew it was time for a totally righteous quest.</p>\r\n<p>Rama and Lakshmana traveled around, fighting duels, helping the needy and looking for any information on Sita or Ravana.&nbsp; One day, they came across a dude named Sugriva who had his throne and his wife stolen by his asshole brother.&nbsp; Rama duelled the brother and drilled him in the throat with an arrow, winning the kingdom back for Sugriva.&nbsp; Sugriva, as luck would have it, was the ruler of a GODDAMN ARMY OF MONKEYS led by the Monkey King Hanuman:</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/rama-hanuman.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Well I probably don\'t even need to tell you that the fucking Monkey Army came through big time.&nbsp; Hanuman was able to track down Ravana\'s fortress on the island of Lanka.&nbsp; He snuck into the base and found Sita was imprisoned in a valley of Ashoka trees, guarded by dozens of hideous Rakshasa Pig Demons.&nbsp; Hanuman learned that she had been told if she didn\'t get busy with Ravana in three months he was going to chop her limbs off and throw her in a hole somewhere.</p>\r\n<p>When Rama heard about this, he was understandably pretty upset.&nbsp; He pulled together a huge fucking army, and marched them to the shores of the ocean.&nbsp; He could see the island of Lanka off in the distance, but he had no way to transport his army across the sea.&nbsp; He sat on the beach for three days meditating on what to do.&nbsp; It was hopeless.&nbsp; Eventually, he was so frustrated that he got SUPER FUCKING PISSED and yelled something like, \"SCREW YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH OCEAN!!!\" and then smashed his sword down full-force into the waves.&nbsp; He was so pissed that he actually fucking&nbsp;<em>scared the shit out of the Goddess of the Sea</em>, who was all like, \"Holy shit!&nbsp; Look, just stop hitting me and I\'ll let you get across!\"</p>\r\n<p>So with that, Rama marched his army across the ocean to do battle with the army of Ravana.&nbsp; Fighting raged throughout the island as men, demons and monkeys were flying all over the place hacking shit up in a gigantic clusterfuck of a mele&eacute;.&nbsp; Rama, psyched about the chance to rescue his wife and complete his heroic quest, pushed forward to face the demon Ravana.&nbsp; He fought his way through dozens of Rakshasa warriors, and finally came face-to-face with his mortal enemy, and the vile creature responsible for imprisoning and attempting to have sex with his wife:</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/rama-ravana.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />Uh... holy shit.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Yeah.&nbsp; It turned out that Ravana had ten heads and twenty arms, each one rapidly swinging a different instrument of pointy death and bodily mutilation.&nbsp; Rama rubbed his eyes, took a second to figure out WTF was going on, and then just starting blasting arrows at this fucker\'s crazy-ass heads.&nbsp; Ravana kept charging him, hacking away at the air and trying to tear Rama limb from limb, but Rama dodged around and kept up a steady stream of arrows, with each shot knocking one of the demon\'s heads off.&nbsp; Unfortunately, he quickly realized that although his arrows could decapitate Ravana\'s heads, as soon as one head would fall off another one would sprout up to replace it.&nbsp; This was a&nbsp;<em>little bit</em>&nbsp;discouraging.&nbsp; So Rama switched it up, firing an arrow straight into Ravana\'s heart.&nbsp; This did the trick.&nbsp; Ravana bit the dust big time, keeling over like a top-heavy SUV.&nbsp; The war was over.&nbsp; Sita proved to Rama that she hadn\'t been \"dishonored\" by Ravana, and together they returned to Ayodhya.&nbsp; Bharata willingly allowed Rama take his rightful place at the throne, and the kingdom received Rama, Sita and Lakshmana home as heroes.&nbsp; Rama and Sita ruled through a period of unprecedented happiness and prosperity.</p>\r\n<p>Rama knew his duty as a son, a husband, and a king, and is considered by Hindis to be the prime example of everything a virtuous and good man should be.&nbsp; He rescued the girl, defeated his enemies, and solved his problems either by clever thinking or by getting pissed.&nbsp; He was everything you could ever ask for from an epic hero.&nbsp; So the next time you\'re at something awesome like \"Bowl-A-Rama\" or \"Chicken Wing Eating Fest-O-Rama\" just remember where the -Rama came from, and realize why adding it as a suffix makes anything infinitely more badass.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/rama-ravanabattle.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />Rama pwns Ravana.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.ramayana.com/who_is_rama.htm\" target=\"blank\">Ramayana.net</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.crock11.freeserve.co.uk/ramay.htm\" target=\"blank\">Ramayana Synopsis</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://hinduism.about.com/library/weekly/extra/bl-ramayana1.htm\" target=\"blank\">Full English Text of the Ramayana</a></p>','2006-12-06','118751223889','badass-rama_new1.jpg','badass-rama_new - Copy.jpg','Rama','The Hindu God of saving princess from gigantic fucking demons.',''),('Edward Arnold Chapman','November 16, 1914','December 11, 1997','Burnopfield, England','WWII British Spy','<p>Eddie Chapman was a criminal, a thief and a womaniser, getting into trouble and living the high life in England in the 1930\'s.&nbsp; He schmoozed in various social circles, getting more babes than David Beckham, sleeping with them and then blackmailing the chicks with naked pictures he secretly took of them.&nbsp; When he wasn\'t extorting money from wealthy or semi-wealthy adulteresses and babes of all shapes and sizes, he spent his time cracking safes and pulling off heists and capers for some extra dough.&nbsp; He fashioned himself as a sort of \"Prince of the Underworld\" - he was smooth, headstrong, cocky and probably carried a badass purple fuzzy pimp-cane.</p>\r\n<p>Eventually his luck ran out, however.&nbsp; He was busted in Edinburgh for blowing the safe of a large bank, which is the sort of thing that can get you into deep shit.&nbsp; In an attempt to avoid Federal pound-me-in-the-ass prison he skipped town, heading off to the island of Jersey where he promptly got arrested again for blowing the safe of a bitchin\' dance club.</p>\r\n<p>Then the Germans came to visit.&nbsp; The Nazi Empire stormed through the French countryside in 1940, capturing Paris and forcing France under the heel of some munchy crunchy good old-fashioned Fascism.&nbsp; When the Nazis took control of Jersey, they moved Chapman to a prison on the mainland of France and threw away the key.&nbsp; Not that it mattered to him, course;&nbsp; he used his skills as a level 20 Thief to fashion a skeleton key MacGuyver-style out of hairpins and soap that allowed him to escape from his cell every night, make his way over to the women\'s prison that was attached to the men\'s prison and get busy with some criminal babes.&nbsp; A little thing like being locked in a fucking Nazi prison wasn\'t going to stand in the way of Eddie Chapman and a building full of moderately attractive chicks.</p>\r\n<p>Once the Germans figured out what was going on, they decided to offer Chapman a job as a secret agent working for the Nazis against the British jerkmeisters that had thrown him in prison to begin with.&nbsp; Seeing an opportunity for adventure, and to get out of his fucking dank-ass boring cell, Chapman agreed to go to work for the F&uuml;hrer.&nbsp; He was released from prison and parachuted into England with a critical mission:&nbsp; To sabotage and destroy the British factory where&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.diggerhistory.info/pages-air-support/ww2-allied/mosquito.htm\" target=\"blank\">Mosquito bombers</a>&nbsp;were being produced, and then to make his way back to the Fatherland.</p>\r\n<p>Eddie Chapman glided softly into Hatfield, England late one night.&nbsp; He stealthily made his way through the countryside towards his target.&nbsp; Then, instead of blowing up the factory as he had been instructed to do, Chapman did something his German handlers didn\'t expect.&nbsp; He went right in the front door of MI-5, the British Intelligence Agency, and told them what was going on.&nbsp; The British government saw the beginning of a beautiful relationship.</p>\r\n<p>Thus Eddie Chapman was dubbed \"Agent Zigzag\" - a double agent working for England against the Nazis, who in turn thought he was working for them against the British.&nbsp; I think.&nbsp; MI-5 faked an explosion at the Mosquito factory, planted a story in the newspaper, and then sent Chapman back to Berlin where he was received as a hero by the Third Reich.&nbsp; Chapman received the Iron Cross, the highest German award for bravery, was given a free yacht, 110,000 Reichmarks and was sent to Oslo, Norway to be an instructor at a Nazi spy school.&nbsp; He worked for a couple of months at the training facility, presumably giving really ridiculously bad advice to future Nazi spies, but after the Allied invasion at Normandy he was once again called back into action for the Fatherland.&nbsp; The Germans parachuted Chapman into England, set him up with a radio, and asked him to help verify the accuracy of the V-2 rockets they were launching at the British mainland.&nbsp; Of course, Chapman fed them more misinformation, and totally fucked up the calibration of the Nazi missiles.</p>\r\n<p>Eventually things got too hot so the Brits bought out Chapman\'s contract and gave him an early retirement and forgave all of his prior criminal transgressions, which is totally fucking sweet.&nbsp; He spent his post-war years as he spent the earlier ones - living it up, sipping cocktails till early in the morning, seeking adventure, and chasing skirts like Pepe Le Pew after a long night of booze and cocaine.&nbsp; He passed away in 1997 at the age of 83, spending his later years as the owner of British Health Spa.</p>\r\n<p>Eddie Chapman is proof that you don\'t have to be a muscle-ridden face-smasher to be a badass.&nbsp; He wasn\'t a big guy, he wasn\'t a killer, and he never fought when he could evade.&nbsp; But he still managed to become one of the most colorful war heroes in British history, playing both the Brits and the Germans off each other, getting into all sorts of adventures, pulling all kinds of box, and being pretty much everything you could hope for in a professional spy.&nbsp; As one of his former bosses once said, \"Chapman loved himself, loved adventure and loved his country, probably in that order.\"</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml?xml=/news/2001/07/05/npro05.xml\" target=\"blank\">The Telegraph</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/1423826.stm\" target=\"blank\">BBC News</a></p>','2006-12-08','629549826684','badass-chapman_new1.jpg','badass-chapman_new - Copy.jpg','Eddie Chapman','Ex-criminal that provided priceless information to the British during WWII.','He has no scruples and will stop at nothing.\r\nHe plays for high stakes and would have the world know it.\r\nOf fear he knows nothing, and while patriotism is not\r\na positive virtue he certainly has a deep rooted hatred of the Hun. \r\n\r\nIn a word, adventure to Chapman is the breath of life.\r\nGiven adventure he has the courage to achieve the unbelievable.'),('Queen Tamar of Georgia','c. 1160','January 18, 1213','Tblisi, Georgia','Medieval Georgian Queen','<p>When King Georgi III surprisingly crowned his 18-year-old daughter as the co-ruler of the Kingdom of Georgia in 1178 AD, he is said to have uttered a quote that is still famous in the country today.&nbsp; I&rsquo;m paraphrasing, and I haven&rsquo;t been great about keeping up with my Medieval Georgian language skills, but it more-or-less said something along the lines of this:&nbsp; &ldquo;It doesn&rsquo;t matter whether a lion is a male or a female &ndash; it will still use it&rsquo;s horrific terrifying claws to murderliciously mutilate your pathetic face in front of your entire family, rip your esophagus from your bloody corpse with a face full of slavering curved fangs, and then fucking 360-degree behind-the-back tomahawk jam your disemboweled spleen into your own asshole.&rdquo;</p>\r\n<p>This is the tale of Queen Tamar of Georgia.&nbsp; Queen of Kings, undisputed ruler of the Caucasus, and a hardcore 13<sup>th</sup>-century spleen-slamming warrior-chick who carved a fearsome kingdom from the corpses of her fallen enemies and commanded an armor-clad host of badass medieval knights on an epic series of murderous conquests at the height of the middle ages.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"/images/754345014062/queentamar1.jpg\" alt=\"\" /><br /> SWORDFACE TEABAG</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Back in the Dark Ages, before the Braves got Tom Glavine and Greg Maddux, Georgia was a hardcore Orthodox Christian warrior-state located in present-day Georgia and ruled by a guy named King Georgi III.&nbsp; Georgi of Georgia was a decent guy, but he had a pretty intense problem with some of the asshole nobles who were supposed to be loyal to him, and around 1178 he ended up having to lay the smackdown on a pretty hardcore rebellion and execute a bunch of assholes who totally deserved it.&nbsp; Looking to cement his rule, King Georgi then decided to appoint his teenage daughter as his successor, and in a super elaborate ceremony he gave her a crown and an awesome-looking sword and told her to unflinchingly decapitate any douchebags who tried to fuck with their family line.&nbsp; Then, like six years later, he died for some reason.</p>\r\n<p>Tamar faced her first test immediately.&nbsp; The second King Georgi beefed it, a bunch of idiot nobles and church officials started posting hateful shit on Georgia message boards about how girls didn&rsquo;t know shit about shit and why wasn&rsquo;t this chick baking lasagnas instead of tyrannically dominating the kingdom with an all-powerful authoritarian spiky iron fist.&nbsp; As was the case with nearly every place in the Christian world, there had never been a woman ruling Georgia before, the Church was against it, and the Council of Nobles started trying to make crazy demands and get her stripped of her authority.</p>\r\n<p>She fucked their shit up.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"/images/754345014062/queentamar2.jpg\" alt=\"\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>The leader of the unruly nobles was the Royal Treasurer, a guy who, oh yeah, just so happened to work down the hall from the Throne Room.&nbsp; So Queen Tamar had that guy arrested and thrown into a torture chamber.&nbsp; When the rest of the uppity nobles talked shit about how this was bullshit, Tamar sent two incredibly-long-winded women to talk to them.&nbsp; These negotiator chicks dragged the discussions on longer and longer and longer, and then at the last minute were like, &ldquo;psych&rdquo;, and gestured like a pair of Vanna White&rsquo;s towards the <em>gigantic fucking army of loyal knights and warriors </em>who had just shown up to beat the fuck out of these assholes and throw them from the tallest towers in King&rsquo;s Landing.&nbsp; The nobles, who had been wasting their time talking like idiots when they should have been building an army to challenge the Queen, were all arrested and thrown into dungeons.&nbsp; Queen Tamar eventually pardoned them, but not before stripping them of their power and replacing them with guys loyal to her instead.</p>\r\n<p>Then, to deal with the Church, she did something you might not expect &ndash; she called a Holy Synod, a council of all the religious leaders in Georgia, to discuss and debate various religious questions and work out their differences like civilized people.</p>\r\n<p>Before the synod was over, Queen Tamar&rsquo;s supporters in the Church had voted out pretty much every single clergymember who ever said shit against her.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"/images/754345014062/queentamar3.jpg\" alt=\"\" /><br /> Allow me to introduce your new Bishop.</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\">Ta-daaaaa</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>After she had built up a power base of mostly-loyal followers Queen Tamar was a lot more willing to listen to concerns and suggestions from the Church and the nobility.&nbsp; The first, and most pressing, was for her to get married and start producing heirs to the throne.&nbsp; The nobles picked a dude named Yuri to be her husband.&nbsp; Yuri was a big, strapping Viking/Russian dude who had been a Prince in Novgorod but was kicked out for being an asshole.&nbsp; Yuri the Russian and Queen Tamar got married, but, in a badass display of 13<sup>th</sup>-century Girl Power, even though Prince Yuri became King Yuri our girl Tamar took the title &ldquo;Queen of Kings&rdquo; and remained the sole controlling power on the throne.</p>\r\n<p>So if this is like a Lifetime Original or some shit, this is the part where Yuri goes from Handsome Prince Charming to Drunken Slobbering Douchebag You Want to Kick in the Balls with a Steel-Toed Clown Shoe.&nbsp; The second he becomes king, Yuri stops being charming and witty, starts being totally wasted on shitty wine all the time, and occasionally goes on psychotic violent outbursts and trashes hotel rooms or restaurants.&nbsp; Queen Tamar of Georgia, not exactly a shrinking violet, naturally doesn&rsquo;t put up with this bullshit abusive boyfriend crap for long.&nbsp; Less than three years after their marriage, she strips him of his power, has their marriage annulled by the Church, and kicks his ass out of her country like Harrison Ford booting Gary Oldman out the cargo hatch of a 747 at the end of <em>Air Force One</em>.</p>\r\n<p>Yuri tried to get his revenge, raising an army of Vikings, mercenary Turks, and still-disgruntled Georgian nobles, but Queen Tamar completely demolished them &ndash; TWICE &ndash; and then, just to add the icing on the cake, married her top general, a semi-barbarian, ruggedly-handsome tribal warrior-prince from Ossetia named David Soslan who was, in the words of Tamar&rsquo;s aunt, &ldquo;Hewn from stone and reared on wolf&rsquo;s milk.&rdquo;&nbsp; Which sounds like something out of a goddamn romance novel.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"/images/754345014062/queentamar4.jpg\" alt=\"\" /><br /> Well hello there.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>After a relationship I bizarrely and nauseatingly want to describe as &ldquo;torrid&rdquo; produced a couple kids, it was time for the new King and Queen to stop humping each other and start sword-humping the skulls of every rival kingdom dumb enough to share a border with Georgia.&nbsp; In 1193 the Sultan Abu Bakr, ruler of a Persian kingdom in Azerbaijan, started launching annoying raids into Georgian territory, so Queen Tamar responded by putting together a massive force of heavily-armored medieval knights and trampling their balls into hoof-imprinted dust.&nbsp; At the Battle of Shamkhor in 1195, a thunderous charge led by King David Soslan plunged its throbbing lance into the soft parts of the quivering Azerbaijani army.&nbsp; The Georgians shattered the massed might of Abu Bakr, capturing dozens of Muslim battle flags and hanging them up as trophies in monasteries and cathedrals across Georgia.&nbsp; Abu Bakr himself survived and escaped, but drank himself to death shortly after hearing news that King David Soslan was marching his direction and there weren&rsquo;t nearly enough troops to stop him.</p>\r\n<p>For the next ten years or so, the armies of Georgia steamrolled their way through the Caucasus Mountains, destroying all who opposed them.&nbsp; The top generals at this time were the Super Mkhargrdzeli Brothers, two guys with unpronounceable names who play a much bigger part in Badass Georgian military history than I intend to give them credit for, mostly because I don&rsquo;t want to have to look up how to spell Mkhargrdzeli every time I want to talk about them.</p>\r\n<p>Let&rsquo;s just say this &ndash; for ten years, the Georgian army is undefeated in battle.&nbsp; They annex huge chunks of Azerbaijan, Turkey, and Armenia, destroy the Emirate of Kars, the Shirvans, the Alans, incorporate parts of Byzantium into their fold, and obliterate so many other civilizations that one Georgian writer famously remarked, &ldquo;We are conquering places I haven&rsquo;t even heard of.&rdquo;&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Yeah, well that makes two of us buddy.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"/images/754345014062/queentamar5.png\" alt=\"\" /><br /> The army of Queen Tamar.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>All this expansion led to an influx of a shit-ton of gold, booty, and other awesome shit looted from captured enemy kingdoms, and all of it flowed to Queen Tamar&rsquo;s capital and brought about an unprecedented religious, cultural, and economic boom for her country.&nbsp; Thanks to the Queen&rsquo;s strong reign and unnerving talent for conquering, destroying, and pillaging, a huge cultural renaissance took place in Georgia, with tons of art, literature, and poetry popping up all over the place.&nbsp; Her capital, Tblisi, became one of the largest cities in the Middle East, and trade routes were set up to connect places like Beijing with the rest of Western Europe.&nbsp; Meanwhile, for her part, Queen Tamar spent most of her non-killing time doing charitable work for her people &ndash; she embroidered clothing for the poor, distributed alms to the poor and to veterans during times of war, and observed religious principles of fasting, sleeping on a stone bed (to stay hard as fuck), and walking up church steps barefoot as a form of penance.</p>\r\n<p>She also spent a lot of time praying in an awesome fucking cave fortress so insanely cool you&rsquo;ll wonder why they didn&rsquo;t make a goddamn Indy movie about it.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"/images/754345014062/queentamar6.jpg\" alt=\"\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Well all this expansion isn&rsquo;t great if you want to make friends with your neighbors, and in 1203 a super-powerful, super-awesomely-titled dude known as the Sultan of Rum put together a gigantic coalition of Emirs and decided to form a We Hate Queen Tamar Fan Club.&nbsp; In what had to have been an early-medieval version of getting super wasted and Facebook-trolling your exes, the Sultan of Rum put together a huge army, assembled it on the border of Georgia, and then hired a diplomatic envoy to go to Tblisi and talk shit to Queen Tamar to her face in her own throne room.&nbsp; The guy read some fucked-up over-the-top letter describing how &ldquo;every woman is feeble-minded,&rdquo; and how Queen Tamar was &ldquo;a simpleton queen&rdquo; and &ldquo;a killer of taxer of Muslims,&rdquo; and then gave her two options &ndash; convert to Islam and become his wife, or stay Christian and become his concubine.</p>\r\n<p>When the envoy was done talking, one of the Mkhargrdzeli brothers literally stormed across the room and punched the dude in the face as hard as he could.&nbsp; As the guy was sprawled on the floor with a bloody lip, Mkhargrdzeli stood over the guy and said if it wasn&rsquo;t for diplomatic immunity, the Georgians would cut out his tongue and blind him with red-hot pokers.&nbsp; Instead they were just going to send him home with a simple answer for the Sultan of Rum &ndash; prepare to die a horrific, excruciating death.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"/images/754345014062/queentamar7.jpg\" alt=\"\" /><br /> A rare photograph of the medieval Georgian military.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>At the Battle of Basiani in 1205 (why couldn&rsquo;t it have been the Battle of Bacardi?), Queen Tamar launched a ferocious surprise attack that caught the Sultan of Rum completely off-guard.&nbsp; The Muslim coalition was badass as fuck though, and despite being ambushed they fought hard, countered the attack, and started to push Queen Tamar back.&nbsp; The Georgian knights fell back towards a bog, battling in knee-deep mud so intense most knights had to dismount their horses.&nbsp; Then, suddenly, two separate units of Georgian knights came riding in hard out of nowhere, attacked the Muslim flanks, routed their armies, and sent them fleeing in disarray.&nbsp; The Georgians marched ahead, conquering all that was before them, reaching all the way to the Black Sea and driving the Sultan back to wherever he came from.</p>\r\n<p>By the time the Armies of Queen Tamar were done marching, they&rsquo;d conquered lands from the Caspian to the Black Sea.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><img src=\"/images/754345014062/queentamar8a.GIF\" alt=\"\" /><br /><br />wait i mean</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"/images/754345014062/queentamar8.GIF\" alt=\"\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Queen Tamar of Georgia died in 1213, after having ruled competently and badassly over her people for 35 years.&nbsp; Her crown went to her daughter, Rusadan, who would rule until Georgia fell to the Mongol Hordes of Genghis Khan in the 1230s.&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>In her ironclad rule, the Queen of Kings built her realm up to the largest extent it would ever reach, brought it to a Golden Age of its history, and was so beloved that there was an epic poem written about her.&nbsp;&nbsp; After her death, Tamar was canonized as a saint in the Orthodox Church, and today she appears on Georgia&rsquo;s money and has an airport and a Medal of Bravery named after her.&nbsp; As recently as 2008, Tamar was still the second-most common female name in the Republic of Georgia.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"/images/754345014062/queentamar9.jpg\" alt=\"\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Links:</p>\r\n<p><a href=\"http://www.humanities360.com/index.php/queen-tamar-of-georgia-38011/\">http://www.humanities360.com/index.php/queen-tamar-of-georgia-38011/</a></p>\r\n<p><a href=\"http://www.antiochian.org/node/18296\">http://www.antiochian.org/node/18296</a></p>\r\n<p><a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tamar_of_Georgia\">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tamar_of_Georgia</a></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Sources:</p>\r\n<p>Cook, Bernard A.&nbsp; <em>Women and War</em>.&nbsp; ABC-CLIO, 2006.</p>\r\n<p>Monter, William.&nbsp; <em>The Rise of Female Kings in Europe, 1300-1800.&nbsp; </em>Yale University Press, 2012.</p>\r\n<p>Rayfield, Donald.&nbsp; <em>Edge of Empires: A History of Georgia</em>.&nbsp; Reaktion, 2013.</p>','2014-05-30','754345014062','queentamar.jpg','queentamar-small.jpg','Queen Tamar','The Queen of Kings, this ultimately powerful warrior-ruler dominated Georgia and Central Asia for over 35 years.','“Queen of Kings and Queens, Glory of the World, Kingdom and Faith, Champion of the Messiah, may God Increase her victories.”  - Inscription on 13th-century Georgian coins'),('Audie Leon Murphy','June 20, 1924','May 28, 1971','Kingston, TX, USA','WWII American soldier','<p>Audie Murphy was one of the United States\' greatest war heroes and the most decorated soldier in American history.&nbsp; He distinguished himself countless times in the face of incredible adversity, overcame every obstacle he faced, braved peril of every sort, and did it all with humility, dignity, and a healthy amount of machinegun fire.</p>\r\n<p>Audie was born in rural Texas in 1924, the sixth of twelve children.&nbsp; He dropped out of school at an early age to help support his family by performing odd jobs around town and hunting for food to feed his family.&nbsp; His father abandoned them in 1936, and in 1940 his mother died, leaving Audie to care for his brothers and sisters.&nbsp; When war broke out after Pearl Harbor in 1942, Audie saw the armed forces as a way to help support his family and serve his country.&nbsp; He tried to enlist, but was still to young for the service.&nbsp; As soon as he turned 18 he went to the Marine Corps recruiter begging to join up.&nbsp; The Marines took one look at little Audie - he was five feet five inches tall and one hundred ten pounds - and determined that he was too small for the service.&nbsp; The Navy guys told him the same thing.&nbsp; The Army had no qualms about throwing Murphy into the meat grinder however, and shipped him off to North Africa as part of the US 3rd Infantry Division.</p>\r\n<p>Audie trolled around in the desert for a while but never saw any combat until his unit was sent to invade Sicily.&nbsp; There, he proved himself in several battles and was quickly promoted to Sergeant.&nbsp; He continued to distinguish himself during the Allied invasion of mainland Italy, serving bravely during an amphibious invasion and in several key battles of the Italian campaign.</p>\r\n<p>After helping secure Italy, the 3rd Division was tasked with the amphibious invasion of Southern France.&nbsp; After landing on the beachhead, Audie and his best friend noticed a group of German soldiers heading towards them waving a white flag and holding their rifles in the air.&nbsp; The Americans advanced forward to accept their surrender when all of a sudden the Kraut bastards pulled their rifles down and shot the shit out of Audie\'s buddy.</p>\r\n<p>This didn\'t sit well with Sergeant Murphy.&nbsp; He flipped out like a goddamn ninja and gunned down the treacherous Nazi bastards.&nbsp; As soon as they hit the deck, a hidden German machine gun nest opened up on Audie.&nbsp; This only served to make him more angry.&nbsp; Murphy charged up the hill towards the gun emplacement and smoked the gun crew.&nbsp; He then picked up their MG42 machine gun and turned it on another nearby machinegun nest.&nbsp; Using the captured gun Rambo-style, Sergeant Murphy took out two more gun emplacements as well as a couple of sniper positions.&nbsp; His actions in beating Kraut asses earned him the US Distinguished Service cross - the second-highest honor given out by the military.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-audiemurphy3.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>As battle raged across Southern France Murphy continued to distinguish himself, earning Silver Stars for taking out machine gun nests and calling down artillery strikes on enemy armored troop positions.&nbsp; He was promoted to Second Lieutenant, but his adventure wasn\'t over yet.</p>\r\n<p>Lt. Murphy was serving as company commander in the Holzwihr forest on 26 January 1945.&nbsp; His unit had been completely decimated - he had 19 men left in his company that was once 128 strong - and had been assigned to hold the critical Colmar Pocket region from a German counterattack.&nbsp; He had two M-10 tank destroyers attached to his unit, and was expecting and additional two companies of infantry to come cover his flank.</p>\r\n<p>It was a cold, rainy morning when Lt. Murphy first noticed the battalion of German mechanized infantry heading towards his position.&nbsp; Three companies of Nazi soldiers and half a dozen heavy Tiger tanks were bearing down on him.&nbsp; Murphy radioed to HQ, only to find that the two companies of supporting infantry he was expecting to hold the flank were not going to arrive in time.&nbsp; Audie was alone and outnumbered, but it was his duty to hold this position and he knew what he had to do.</p>\r\n<p>He send his men back to take defensive positions behind him, and called the M-10s forward to take out some of the German armor.&nbsp; Within minutes, both vehicles had been knocked out like chumps.&nbsp; Now it was just Audie against an impossibly large force of German troops.&nbsp; Instead of falling back to safety like a regular, sane person, Murphy instead jumped up and manned the .50 caliber machinegun mounted one of the burning, disabled M-10s.&nbsp; He got on the radio with Command HQ and started calling in artillery strikes to hit the German positions.&nbsp; Shells rained down, taking out Nazis all over the place, but it wasn\'t enough.&nbsp; Lt. Murphy opened up the machinegun from his completely exposed position and stared mowing down Krauts left and right.&nbsp; Artillery continued to pound the Germans while Murphy shot the shit out of them.&nbsp; Before long the German losses were so great that the Tiger tanks had to pull back because they had lost most of their infantry support.&nbsp; Audie continued to fire until he ran out of bullets, then dismounted the M-10 only seconds before the entire vehicle exploded.&nbsp; He rallied his men, and the small group of Americans charged forward and routed the German forces.&nbsp; The Colmar Pocket had held.</p>\r\n<p>Murphy saw the war through to it\'s conclusion before returning home as a hero and receiving the Congressional Medal of Honor.&nbsp; He served some time in the Texas National Guard, retiring at the rank of Major.&nbsp; After his military service, Audie Murphy went on to be a badass movie action hero, starring in a number of Westerns and even playing himself in the autobiographical&nbsp;<em>To Hell and Back</em>.&nbsp; He was eventually given a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-audiemurphy1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>I remember when I was young my Dad and I watched&nbsp;<em>To Hell and Back</em>, and he told me that it was the true story of this kid\'s life.&nbsp; I remember watching it and thinking to myself that his story was too incredible to be true.&nbsp; The guy was an unassuming, humble man, but the stuff he accomplished during the war like like shit straight out of a bad action movie.&nbsp; Add his success as an actor to that, and you have a truly incredible badass.</p>\r\n<p>But don\'t take my word for it - just look at the list of medals he received for his service:</p>\r\n<ul>\r\n<li>Congressional Medal of Honor</li>\r\n<li>Distinguished Service Cross</li>\r\n<li>Two Silver Stars</li>\r\n<li>Legion of Merit</li>\r\n<li>Two Bronze Stars</li>\r\n<li>Three Purple Hearts</li>\r\n<li>U.S. Army Outstanding Civilian Service Medal</li>\r\n<li>Good Conduct Medal</li>\r\n<li>Two Presidential Unit Citations</li>\r\n<li>American Campaign Medal</li>\r\n<li>European-African-Middle Eastern Campaign Medal with One Silver Star,<br />Four Bronze Service Stars and one Bronze Arrowhead</li>\r\n<li>World War II Victory Medal</li>\r\n<li>Army of Occupation Medal</li>\r\n<li>Armed Forces Reserve Medal</li>\r\n<li>Combat Infantry Badge</li>\r\n<li>Marksman Badge with Rifle Bar</li>\r\n<li>Expert Badge with Bayonet Bar</li>\r\n<li>French Fourragere in Colors of the Croix de Guerre</li>\r\n<li>French Legion of Honor, Grade of Chevalier</li>\r\n<li>French Croix de Guerre With Silver Star</li>\r\n<li>French Croix de Guerre with Palm</li>\r\n<li>Medal of Liberated France</li>\r\n<li>Belgian Croix de Guerre 1940 Palm</li>\r\n</ul>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-audiemurphy2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.audiemurphy.com/welcome.htm\" target=\"blank\">Audiemurphy.com</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Audie_Murphy\" target=\"blank\">Wikipedia</a></p>','2006-11-22','65181671986','badass-audiemurphy_new.jpg','badass-audiemurphy_new - Copy.jpg','Audie Murphy','The most decorated soldier in American history.',''),('Ching I Sao','1775','1844','China','19th-century Chinese Pirate','<p>Ching Shih was one of the most badass pirates of all time.&nbsp; In a ten-year span, Ching\'s \"Red Flag Fleet\", a pirate armada consisting of somewhere around four hundred Chinese twenty-gun junks and several thousand men, sailed up and down the coast of Imperial China kicking asses, sacking towns, breaking necks and cashing cheques.&nbsp; Few pirates ever enjoyed such unbridled financial and military success as the Red Flag Fleet, thanks in a large part to the cunning and ruthlessness of Captain Ching Shih and her desire to be the most feared pirate in history.</p>\r\n<p>Yeah, that\'s right.&nbsp; I said&nbsp;<em>her</em>.</p>\r\n<p>Ching Shih\'s origins are a mystery to historians.&nbsp; She first appears in historical records in 1801, as a Chinese prostitute taken to be the wife of Cheng I, a notorious pirate captain.&nbsp; Now Cheng I already had a pretty sweet deal going with his pirate fleet, and like any pirate worth his eyepatch he enjoyed kicking an ass or two.&nbsp; However, things really started to pick up once Ching Shih showed up on the scene.&nbsp; Then all of a sudden the Red Flag Fleet was like a fucking super-size scrotum-kicking machine in a room full of men with elephantiasis of the balls.</p>\r\n<p>Cheng I ended up on the wrong side of a tsunami and died in 1807, so Ching Shih married her husband\'s First Mate and started running the show herself.&nbsp; Now a lot of people weren\'t too keen on having a chick for an Admiral, so like any good pirate would, Ching exerted her authority by laying down a pirate code of conduct that made Abu Gharib look like fucking Club Med.&nbsp; If you stole or looted from a town that provided assistance or tribute to the pirate fleet, Ching would chop your fucking head off with a battle axe and dump your lifeless body in the ocean.&nbsp; If you stole from the pirate treasury, or she&nbsp;<em>thought</em>&nbsp;you were stealing from the pirate treasury, Ching would chop your fucking head off with a battle axe and dump your lifeless body in the ocean.&nbsp; Raping any captured female prisoners was punishable by death.&nbsp; Fuck, if you had&nbsp;<em>consensual sex</em>&nbsp;while on duty you got your head chopped off and the babe you were getting it on with would be strapped to a couple cannnonballs and chucked off the side of the boat.&nbsp; Ching wasn\'t fucking around, and she wanted to make damn sure you weren\'t fucking around when you should have been working.&nbsp; Plus, she knew that cultivating tons of pent-up sexual frustration was a good way to end up with a bunch of pissed-off guys who were more than eager to take out their aggression on any dumbass pirate hunters stupid enough to get in their way.&nbsp; If you weren\'t able to handle it, and tried to go AWOL she would track you down, chop off your ear and pass it around to all of the other pirates with a note on it saying, \"this guy ran like a little fucking bitch because he was a total pussy.\"</p>\r\n<p>Throughout the remainder of 1807 Ching sailed up and down the Chinese coastline plundering ships, sacking towns and being an all-around scourge on society.&nbsp; She would sometimes even take her shallow-bottomed boats and row them up small rivers to attack towns that were least expecting it.&nbsp; She rarely lost a battle, and any resistance she faced was crushed handily.&nbsp; One time, two dumbass towns decided it would be a good idea to raise an army and attack her fucking pirate army.&nbsp; Just think about how stupid that is for a minute.&nbsp; Ching not only paddled their asses like a Frat Brother during Pledge Week, but after the peasant armies were crushed she sacked the two towns and beheaded any man stupid enough to be hanging out inside the city walls.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-chingshih2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />Ching gets ready to fuck somebody up.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>In 1808 the Chinese government finally got fed up with Ching\'s shit.&nbsp; They commissioned an Imperial fleet so set sail and attack the Red Flag Fleet.&nbsp; Now most Caribbean pirates and privateers would have taken this opportunity to find a nice big cave and hide out for a few months.&nbsp; Not Ching.&nbsp; She sailed right out and met the Navy head-on, and kicked their fucking asses.&nbsp; During the fighting, she was able to capture sixty-three ships from the Chinese Navy.&nbsp; Any sailors she came across had two options - they could either join the pirates or they could be tied down to the deck and beaten to death with clubs.&nbsp; As you can imagine, it wasn\'t too difficult for her to replace the pirate soldiers who had fallen in battle.&nbsp; Her military success was so ultimate and her wrath so terrible that the goddamned Admiral of the Chinese Navy, Kwo Lang, committed suicide when being faced with the prospect of being captured by her forces.</p>\r\n<p>Over the next two years, Ching Shih would do battle with a renegade group of mutinous pirates and would face Dutch and British warships that had been called in by China for the explicit purpose of turning the Red Flag Fleet into a coral reef.&nbsp; None of them were successful in defeating her.&nbsp; In 1810, Ching accepted a general offer of amnesty from the Chinese government.&nbsp; She and her force of seventeen thousand men pulled their two hundred ships into port for the last time and were allowed to keep their plunder and retire to quiet lives in the Chinese countryside.&nbsp; Ching lived to the ripe old age of 69, spending her days running a brothel/casino and being a big-time pimpmaster.</p>\r\n<p>Ching Shih assembled and ran one of the most formidable pirate armadas the world has ever seen.&nbsp; Her forces wreaked havoc not only among the merchant shipping population, but were also incredibly successful at going toe-to-toe with the Chinese Navy in large-scale sea battles.&nbsp; She was tough, well-respected, had a formidable code of honor, and was militarily and tactically superior to a number of Chinese and European naval commanders.&nbsp; And best of all, she was able to get away with everything, keep all of her loot and avoid suffering the indignity of a death by hanging.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-chingshih1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://beaglebay.com/women_pirates.htm#Cheng%20Sao\" target=\"blank\">Pirate Women</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://people.freenet.de/hawkeyepike/bios/bio46.htm\" target=\"blank\">Swashbuckler\'s Cove</a></p>','2006-11-17','62499384272','badass-chingshih_new1.jpg','badass-chingshih_new - Copy.jpg','Ching Shih','A female pirate in charge of a fleet so powerful it kicked the shit out of the Chinese Imperial Navy.',''),('David Brice Bleak','February 27, 1932','March 23, 2006','Idaho Falls, ID, USA','20th-century American Soldier','<p>Sergeant David Bleak of the U.S. Army\'s 40th Infantry Division wasn\'t slogging through the Korean brush on June 14th, 1952 looking for people who needed their asses kicked.&nbsp; It was quite the opposite in fact.&nbsp; Because of his large size and incredible physical strength, Sgt. Bleak had been selected during boot camp to serve as a combat medic - one of the most dangerous jobs any soldier could possibly have.&nbsp; His mission was to put himself into life-threatening situations on a daily basis, pull wounded men off the battlefield to safety and administer medical first aid to them.</p>\r\n<p>Now risking your neck to save lives is noble enough to begin with.&nbsp; During Sgt. Bleak\'s service in the Korean War he saved countless wounded young men from death, torture or capture at the hands of North Korean and Chinese forces.&nbsp; That alone makes him a hero.&nbsp; But his actions on this day would make also him a total fucking badass.</p>\r\n<p>Bleak had volunteered to join up with a recon patrol assigned the task of capturing a Chinese soldier for interrogation purposes.&nbsp; They had located a small unit of enemy troops dug in at the top of Hill 499 in northeastern Korea, and quickly began their ascent up the rugged hillside.&nbsp; Well the commies were ready for them.&nbsp; Almost immediately, the patrol came under intense machinegun fire from all around.&nbsp; The Americans took cover, and Bleak went to work patching up the men who were unlucky enough to have a first-hand encounter with 7.62 millimeters of hot lead.&nbsp; Despite still taking fire from the enemy positions, the US troops were able to regroup and continue their climb up the hill.&nbsp; Sgt. Bleak\'s fire team headed up the hill in one direction while a second team went around the side in an attempt to flank the Chinese troops.&nbsp; As he neared the top of the hill, Bleak looked over and saw a couple of his men drop from enemy fire.&nbsp; He knew what he had to do.</p>\r\n<p>Sgt. Bleak put his head down and charged over to aid his wounded comerades.&nbsp; Before he got too far, he came under rifle fire from a concealed trench nearby.&nbsp; Knowing that his men needed him, Bleak didn\'t run for cover - he fucking charged the enemy position.&nbsp; He leapt into the trench coming down hard on top of a Chinese soldier, breaking his neck.&nbsp; He popped up and found himself face-to-face with a second trooper.&nbsp; Without hesitation, Bleak reached out his massive right hand and crushed that motherfucker\'s windpipe.&nbsp; A third dude ran up to see if he could take out this American beast who was smacking down all his buddies, and found himself saying hello to the pointy end of Sgt. Bleak\'s combat knife.</p>\r\n<p>With those three assholes down, Bleak got back to the mission at hand.&nbsp; He ran over and started giving first aid to the wounded.&nbsp; While he was working, he looked over at one of his friends and saw a motherfucking live hand grenade bounce of his helmet.&nbsp; Bleak tackled that guy, shielding him from the blast.&nbsp; He then calmly went back to work while the Americans continued to clear the hill of enemy soldiers.</p>\r\n<p>After he had stabilized everyone he could, he glanced up to see three more US troops go down, victims of a hidden machinegun nest.&nbsp; Bleak rushed out to see if they could be helped and quickly took a bullet to the leg.&nbsp; Despite his injury, he made it to the downed soldiers.&nbsp; He found that two of them could get back on their own, but the third man was half-dead and unable to walk.&nbsp; Bleak ignored his own wound, hoisted this guy up on his shoulders and made his way back towards safety.</p>\r\n<p>But his adventure wasn\'t over yet.&nbsp; As he was lugging his semi-conscious patient down the hill, two Chinese soldiers leapt out of the brush and faced him, brandishing their rifles with bayonets fixed and yelling.&nbsp; Bleak took one look at them, lowered his man to the ground, cracked his knuckles, and probably said something to the effect of, \"Things are looking&nbsp;<em>bleak</em>&nbsp;for you fellas.\"</p>\r\n<p>The soldiers rushed him, thrusting their bayonets at his chest.&nbsp; Sgt. Bleak sidestepped their lunges, grabbed their heads and cracked them together like coconuts.&nbsp; They both fell to the ground dead.</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><br />In my mind, I picture it going down something like this:<br /><br /><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-davidbleak1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>That\'s bad fucking ass.&nbsp; Not only did Sgt. Bleak disregard his own personal safety to save the lives of several members of his Company, but he took out five enemy soldiers with his bare hands, even going so far as to use a move generally reserved for guys like Mr. T.</p>\r\n<p>I pity the fool who messes with David Bleak.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.homeofheroes.com/moh/citations_living/kc_a_bleak.html\" target=\"blank\">Medal of Honor Citation</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.medalofhonor.com/DavidBleak.htm\" target=\"blank\">Medalofhonor.com Story</a></p>','2006-11-17','32276004345','badass-davidbleak_new1.jpg','badass-davidbleak_new - Copy.jpg','David Bleak','Combat medic who took down the enemy with his bare hands in order to save his buddies.',''),('The Hessian','N/A','N/A','Germany','Mythological American Supervillain','<p>Trick-or-treaters don\'t really do the whole \"apartment building\" thing, so this Halloween Andrea and I spent a nice quiet Tuesday evening watching<a href=\"http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0162661/\" target=\"blank\">Sleepy Hollow</a>&nbsp;on network TV like the boring old people that we are.&nbsp; Now Tim Burton flicks generally function more as fashion guidelines for what goths should wear to prom, and generally aren\'t really good sources for Badass of the Week material, but the goddamned Headless Horseman is without a doubt a stone-cold untouchable badass.&nbsp; He\'s tough, he\'s unstoppable, and he\'s got some pretty sweet moves with his sword and axes.&nbsp; But if the concept of a gigantic fucking undead soldier riding a huge ass black horse across the countryside of rural New York lopping of random peoples\' heads in the middle of the night isn\'t badass enough for you, I\'ve put together a list of the top five things that make the Headless Horseman worthy of this list.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-horseman3.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-family: helvetica; font-size: xx-small;\">#1.&nbsp; The Headless Horseman Is Motherfucking Christopher Walken</span></p>\r\n<p>I should just end the article right here, because there isn\'t a soul on this planet who would ever question the badassitude of The Walken.&nbsp; Fuck, the fact that I was able to run this feature for two and a half years without ever mentioning a Christopher Walken character is enough to make me feel a little sick to my stomach, and I\'m glad I\'m finally rectifying that situation.&nbsp; The guy is high in the running for \"creepiest man ever\", and he is unassailably awesome in everything that he does.&nbsp; Add on the fact that in this movie he has fucking crazy-ass blue eyes, wild hair, a gigantor black-bladed broadsword and his teeth are filed into points and you\'ve got one of the most menacing movie villains around.&nbsp; I mean just look at that picture;&nbsp; I sure as shit wouldn\'t want to meet this bastard in a dark cornfield somewhere.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-horseman5.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-family: helvetica; font-size: xx-small;\">#2.&nbsp; The Headless Horseman Has No Motherfucking Head</span></p>\r\n<p>Even without the frightful visage of the immortal Walken, the Horseman is equally as menacing.&nbsp; The sheer intimidation factor of seeing a black-clad headless rider galloping towards you on a mighty black steed with his black sword of blackness unsheathed would be enough to turn the bravest men around into sniveling cowards.&nbsp; The guy even frightens random forest creatures to the point where his impending arrival is foretold by the sound of deer running madly through the brush.&nbsp; Even if you were stupid enough to try and face this abomination from Hell, you wouldn\'t stand a fucking chance because not only is he one of the most skilled swordsmen to ever live but also because...</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-horseman6.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-family: helvetica; font-size: xx-small;\">#3.&nbsp; The Headless Horseman Cannot Motherfucking Be Killed By Conventional Weapons</span></p>\r\n<p>Oh FSU grad Casper Van Dien, why would you try to shoot the Horseman with your crappy flintlock musket?&nbsp; You can\'t kill him.&nbsp; He\'s already dead.&nbsp; It\'s a well-known fact that the only way to destroy the undead is to cut of their heads, and the fucking Horseman HAS NO HEAD.&nbsp; It\'s like his only potential weak spot doesn\'t even exist.&nbsp; I guess you can shoot him all you want, or slash him, or fucking trap him inside a windmill and set the entire thing on fire, but you\'re just going to end up with a hot angry guy with a couple of holes in his jacket trying to slice your head off.&nbsp; You are only succeeding in irritating him.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-horseman4.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-family: helvetica; font-size: xx-small;\">#4.&nbsp; The Headless Horseman Collects Motherfucking Severed Heads Just For the Hell of It</span></p>\r\n<p>Even when the Hessian was alive, he was still an unstoppable killing machine with a penchant for decapitating any Americans that even so much as looked at him cross-eyed.&nbsp; He would ride into battle like a fucking maniac, chopping people\'s heads off all over the place like some kind of one-man French Revolution on crack.&nbsp; In fact, he loved severing people\'s craniums so much that even after he was killed he kept on taking heads.&nbsp; Maybe it was some sort of like post-mortum instinctive reflex, like how a snake will sometimes still try to bite you for a couple minutes after you cut its head off.&nbsp; Whatever the case, he was just so awesome at lopping heads that he didn\'t want to stop.&nbsp; The only real difference is that after his death, the Horseman started keeping the heads inside the trunk of his weirdo Hell Tree like some sort of crazy ass trophy case for psychos.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-horseman7.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-family: helvetica; font-size: xx-small;\">#5.&nbsp; Even If The Headless Horseman Likes You, He Still Bites Your Motherfucking Face</span></p>\r\n<p>Holy shit this guy is a mean bastard.&nbsp; I was under the impression that he was like in love with the lady at the end of the movie or something, but even though he likes her he STILL fucking bites her face like some kind of crazy bipolar bat or something.&nbsp; You just can\'t win with this guy - he fucking hates everything, and lives to cause massive trauma to other peoples\' heads at all costs.&nbsp; That\'s pretty badass, if not a little bit fucked up.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-horseman1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />Plus he\'s just plain creepy.</p>','2006-11-02','385860532385','badass-horseman2_new1.jpg','badass-horseman2_new - Copy.jpg','The Headless Horseman','Headless. Horseman. Christopher. Motherfucking. Walken.',''),('Simo Häyhä','December 17, 1905','April 1, 2002','Rautjärvi, Finland','WWII Finnish Sniper','<p>In the winter of 1939, the Soviet Union was dicks.&nbsp; Russian Premier Josef Stalin thought it would be really fucking hilarious if he all of a sudden sent like two million of his dudes over to nearby Finland to start kicking everyone\'s asses and seizing whatever land he could get his borsch-covered hands on, while simultaneously kicking puppies and shouting profanities at inanimate objects in a vodka-and-caviar induced roid rage.&nbsp; While this may have been a laugh riot for Stalin and his numbnuts cronies, the Finnish people obviously were a little unhappy with the prospect of having all their cross-country skis, Winter Olympics gold medals and salmon fishing boats captured by a rampaging horde of godless commie bastards, so they decided to open an extra-large can of whoop-ass and give the Russkies the ballsack kicking they were apparently looking for.</p>\r\n<p>Now when you think of Finland, the phrase \"military powerhouse\" isn\'t exactly the first thing that pops into your head.&nbsp; Likewise, when you looked at Simo H&auml;yh&auml;, a slight-framed Finnish farmer who didn\'t stand an inch over five feet tall, you also probably didn\'t think \"total fucking unstoppable badass\".&nbsp; Well let\'s just say that first impressions can be deceiving.</p>\r\n<p>Simo was a member of a Finnish organization roughly equivalent to the&nbsp;<a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Minutemen_(militia)\" target=\"blank\">minutemen</a>&nbsp;of the American Revolution.&nbsp; He had done his state-mandated one-year term in the Finnish Army, reaching the rank of corporal, and was living a peaceful life in a farming village not far from the Russian border, spending his days farming, hunting, and crushing giant logs into sawdust with his bare hands.&nbsp; When the Soviets crossed the border into Finland with the expressed purpose of busting Finnish heads, Simo was called up into service.&nbsp; He went out to the wood shed behind his house, grabbed his old-school Russian-made Mosin-Nagant M28/30 rifle and headed out to take some commies behind a proverbial woodshed of his own.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-simo1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>H&auml;yh&auml;\'s specialty was his knowledge of the forests, his enduring patience and his impeccable rifle marksmanship.&nbsp; A sniper by trade, he would dress up in all-white camouflage, sneak through the woods with only a day\'s worth of food and couple clips of ammunition, and then lie in wait for any Russian stupid enough to wander into his killzone.&nbsp; His first battle-experience came in the hard-fought Kollaa campaign, where a severely outnumbered Finnish force bore the brunt of a large-scale Russian assault.&nbsp; Temperatures at this time ranged from -20 to -40 degrees Celsius, and the entire forest was covered with several feet of snow.&nbsp; While this played havoc on the inexperienced and under-equipped Russian invaders, the Finns were right at home in it because FINLAND IS FUCKING COLD AS SHIT ALL THE TIME and they\'re used to it there.&nbsp; Throughout this campaign, H&auml;yh&auml; basically just ran around doling out head-shots like the ice cream man gives out Dove bars on a hot sunny day in the Sahara desert.&nbsp; His personal best was fucking twenty-five kills in a single day.&nbsp; That\'s like an entire baseball team.</p>\r\n<p>Throughout the Winter War (as it would come to be known), Simo H&auml;yh&auml; ran around being what experienced HALO players would call a \"camping fag\", and scoring enough kill shots to make fucking RoboCop and the Terminator hide their heads in shame.&nbsp; He would come to be known throughout the Russian Army as \"The White Death\", and at one point in the war they even went so far as to try and launch a couple of goddamned artillery strikes on locations at which they thought he might be hiding.&nbsp; That\'s desperation there - like even more desperate than a nymphomaniac babe at a convention for castrated male models.</p>\r\n<p>After hearing about how much ass H&auml;yh&auml; was kicking out on the frozen tundra of eastern Finland with an antiquated bolt-action piece-of-shit rifle, the Finnish High Command decided to give him a special award:&nbsp; a custom-built Sako M2/28-30&nbsp;<em>Sniper Rifle of Headshots +3</em>.&nbsp; He put this to good use, killing the ever-loving shit out of anyone that crossed him.&nbsp; On several occasions the Russians sent their own snipers to take him out, but Simo managed to win those duels every time.&nbsp; You see, H&auml;yh&auml; not only passed out long-range silent death to anyone with a red star on his hat, but he did it without the aid of a telescopic sight.&nbsp; He preferred to use the rifle\'s regular iron sights because it allowed him to present a smaller target, and because several of the commie snipers he moked out were given away by a glint of light reflecting off the lenses of their scopes.&nbsp; He obviously didn\'t want to fall to this fate, so he went balls-out and wasted assholes the old-fashioned (and unarguably the more hardcore) way.</p>\r\n<p>Finally, on 2 March 1940, some Soviet bastard got a lucky shot off and popped Simo H&auml;yh&auml; in the jaw with an explosive bullet.&nbsp; H&auml;yh&auml; fell into a coma and was pulled off the field by his comerades.&nbsp; He would finally awake eleven days later, on the same day that the Winter War ended.&nbsp; He would go on to live to the ripe old age of 97.</p>\r\n<p>The Winter War ended as a victory for Finland.&nbsp; The Red Army captured a mere 22,000 square miles of territory and lost close to one million men, more than forty times the number of Finnish casualties.&nbsp; Simo H&auml;yh&auml; received five medals for valour, including the prestigious Kollaa Cross, and was express-promoted from corporal to second lieutenant.&nbsp; Throughout the war, H&auml;yh&auml; raked in a total of 505 confirmed sniper kills (in some sources he is credited with 542).&nbsp; On top of this, he also mowed down two hundred men with a Suomi 9mm submachine gun, bringing his total kill count to over 700 men in under 100 days.</p>\r\n<p>Nobody in history has ever been credited with more confirmed kills than Simo H&auml;yh&auml;.&nbsp; He was an unlikely war hero who used patience, cunning and precision to defend his country, his home, his people and his freedom from communist totalitarian oppression.&nbsp; He was an unstoppable killing machine the likes of which the world has never known before or since.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-simo.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p><br /><br /></p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-family: helvetica;\">Links:</span></p>\r\n<p><a href=\"http://www.kevos4.com/Simo_Hayha.htm\" target=\"blank\">Brief Biography</a><br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.snipercountry.com/BVT_Reviews/ValkoinenKuolema.asp\" target=\"blank\">Snipercountry.com article</a></p>','2006-10-27','474030732596','badass-simo2_new1.jpg','badass-simo2_new - Copy.jpg','Simo Häyhä','More confirmed kills than anyone else in any other war. Just sayin\'.',''),('Gaius Octavius Thurinus','January 16, 27 BCE','August 19, 14 CE','Rome','Ancient Roman Politician','<p>There are some badasses whose exploits are obvious. And then there are those few evil genius types who wield absolute power from the shadows, molding society into a willfully submissive machine while maintaining a completely graceful facade. And Caesar Augustus, the first emperor of Rome, is one of those truly legendary evil geniuses. It was one thing for&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/caesar.html\" target=\"blank\">his predecessor</a>&nbsp;to conquer a bunch of drooling Neanderthal Gallic barbarians (who would later become the French: hint hint) and march onto Rome. Whoopty-fucking shit. Augustus was a man who single-handedly masterminded the transformation of the Roman Republic into a military autocracy with all power concentrated in his hands &ETH; all under the brilliantly-woven guise of restoring the Republic. Despite being a chronically sick and physically infirm man all his life, he ruled as an autocrat in all but name for over 45 years, and engineered a remarkably stable government that lasted over two centuries after his death.</p>\r\n<p>He was born Gaius Octavius Thurinus (then known as Octavian) in 63 BC to a moderately affluent noble family. His father had been the governor of Macedonia, and his mother was the niece of Julius Caesar. Despite this enormous connection, Octavian largely remained a political nobody. This changed when Caesar waged war against his arch-enemy Pompey. Caesar requested that Octavian join him for his Spanish campaign, to which Octavian accepted. However, Octavian\'s ship fell into a terrible storm, and was dashed about on the coast. In a truly heroic feat of courage that only a badass could muster, Octavian said \"fuck this shit\" and led his friends from the ship, across miles of fortified enemy territory, into Caesar\'s camp with not one single casualty. Caesar was so impressed that he secretly changed his will and adopted Octavian as his legal son.</p>\r\n<p>&Eacute;and then Caesar acted like a dumbass and got knifed by a bunch of old men in purple robes. How\'s that for anticlimactic? Well, it really fucked up Roman politics, as if that needed further fucking up. Riots ensued and blood flowed through the streets when the news of Julius Caesar\'s assassination became public. The Roman Senate tried to appease everyone by both giving amnesty to the assassins, and deifying Caesar as a Roman god, though this didn\'t do much to stop the chaos. Meanwhile, Octavian was studying in an Italian province when news reached him. His closest friends and family members urged him to renounce his adoption and lie low, since his connection to Caesar could very well get him killed. But Octavian wasn\'t one to lie down and take any ill treatment like a bitch, and he left immediately for Rome to claim his adoption. Once there he claimed the title Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus, much to the displeasure of the late Caesar\'s second-in-command, Marc Antony, who everyone (himself included) expected would become Caesar\'s heir.</p>\r\n<p>Octavian knew that if he hung around Rome too long without an army he would end up just like Caesar. So he quickly left the city and rallied some of his late uncle\'s legions to his cause. At that point, all Octavian had to his name was just that &ETH; his name. It wasn\'t much, but the fact that he was legally the son of a god helped a great deal. He reentered Rome and negotiated a strained alliance with Marc Antony and Marcus Aemilius Lepidus known as the Second Triumvirate. Their first act as allies was to purge the Senate and the Tribunate of their political rivals. Through mob violence and sheer terror, their combined forces murdered and executed thousands of senators and noblemen, and confiscated their wealth. I guess you gotta go balls out and kill something every time you enter that city, or something. Shit.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-augustus2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />Octavian gets ready to pwn some n00bs.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>With Roman politics temporarily taken care of, the Triumvirate hunted down, besieged, and finally annihilated the last of Caesar\'s assassins. They then divided up sections of the Roman Republic to rule as warlords in all but name: Marc Antony got control of the eastern portion of the Republic and fortified Egypt, Octavian returned to Rome and started cultivating alliances, and Lepidus&Eacute;was just a fucking weak moron who breathed air and somehow managed to hold on to Spain.</p>\r\n<p>The alliance was not soon to last. Lepidus, true to character, blundered by trying to usurp control of the island of Sicily from Octavian. Octavian used this as a pretext to seize control of Lepidus\' territories, and within two years all of the Western Mediterranean was under his dominion. However, something changed in him at this point. Octavian, anticipating the absolute power he would wield after eventually destroying Antony, realized that in order to be the legitimate ruler of a society that had been wracked by a century of civil war, he would have to be known as something other than a bloodthirsty butcher. He ordered his public record burned and started anew by sparing Lepidus (Lepidus was the chief priest of the Roman state religion, so killing him would be sacrilegious). From this point on, he would portray himself as a Roman traditionalist bound by the law, an integral part of his propaganda ever afterward.</p>\r\n<p>This was perfect timing, as Marc Antony was starting to fall under the spell of Cleopatra in Egypt, just as Caesar had before. He started abandoning his Roman duties to wallow in lustful abandon with a hot Egyptian mega-bitch (can\'t blame him for that), had three children with her, and even went so far as to divorce his wife (who was also, conveniently enough, Octavian\'s sister). Octavian saw this as a pretext to legitimate war against his rival. He started spreading propaganda throughout all of Rome, depicting Antony as someone who had abandoned his Roman roots, and who was aiding a foreign despot in her ambition to enslave Rome. To avoid the stigma of another civil war, the Senate declared war against \"the foreign queen,\" and tasked Octavian with spilling her guts out onto the sand. As before, Octavian was marching around to fuck up his enemies &ETH; but this time, he was following the letter of the law in doing so.</p>\r\n<p>After the decisive battle of Actium, in which most of Antony\'s legions simply defected to Octavian, Cleopatra\'s and Antony\'s forces were defeated. Octavian, never one to take chances, ordered the immediate beheading of the ten year old biological son of Julius Caesar and Cleopatra, Ceasarion. \"Two Caesars is one too many,\" he reasoned. Fucking harsh! I mean, any half-wit can muster the aggression to take on an enemy army. But it takes the cold detachment of an ambitious pragmatist to unflinchingly order the summary execution of your own flesh and blood.</p>\r\n<p>Finally, after all his troubles, he was the undisputed master of all Rome. His take completed, he marched back to the city itself, where he did the unthinkable. Now,&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/emperor.html\" target=\"blank\">some absolute despots</a>, after obtaining unlimited power, are merely content to overthrow the existing government and replace it with their totalitarian system of choosing. But any would-be hack can do that. Augustus had tact. Upon reaching Rome, he disbanded his entire army and played his traditionalist game again. \"Once more, the power lies with the Senate and people of Rome,\" he said. But this was unthinkable to the Roman people, and massive riots erupted again. So he approached the Senate and publicly offered his services. The Senate, which was packed full of his loyal supporters (due to him having killed off the rest), basically gave him absolute power in all but name, and granted him the name Imperator Caesar Diui Filius Augustus, which in English roughly means \"the honorable and magnificent commander in chief, son of the divine Julius Caesar.\" Christ. Imagine how badass you are when your very name is practically an affirmation of how godlike and omnipotent people think you are. That\'s almost as cool as&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/sanshiro.html\" target=\"blank\">having your own theme song</a>.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-augustus3.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />I am the Senate!</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>The cool thing about Roman emperors like Augustus is that there never actually was a de jure position of emperor. Augustus was careful to not look like an outright monarch, which had killed Caesar before him. Instead, what Augustus did was simply concentrate powers and positions that already existed, or assign them to men he could control. Augustus himself was given tribuneccia potestas, which is basically the power to write and veto all legislation. In addition, he was made Chief Priest of the Roman state religion once Lepidus died, was legitimately given full control of all Roman legions and provincial governors, and the ability to nominate and \"retire\" Senate members. In this way he called all the shots, while maintaining the illusion that he was the savior of a restored republic; instead of dictator, he called himself primus inter pares, or \"the first among equals.\" One example of how much unspoken authority he wielded is when his governor of Egypt, Cornelius Gallus, started acting like a prick. Gallus had just won some petty war against a rebellious Egyptian tribe, and felt like congratulating himself by erecting statues of himself and making inscriptions in public buildings of his \"heroic\" deeds. This threatened Augustus\' unquestioned authority, and so he acted&Eacute;but not directly. He didn\'t choose to send armies to kill Gallus; he didn\'t even order his resignation, which would have been in his power. Instead, he calmly mentioned to his associates, \"Cornelius Gallus is no longer a friend of mine.\" Within days the Roman Senate passed law after law calling for his prosecution, his friends in the nobility started to abandon him, and before any charges could be brought against him, Gallus fell on his own sword. If that isn\'t unlimited badass power, then I don\'t know what is.</p>\r\n<p>In short, Augustus was an all-powerful mastermind who used the illusion of democracy to make himself an extra-constitutional god-emperor. He was a brutal, cold-hearted fuck when he needed to be, but he also came across as a generous, charming man to most people. He unflinchingly did whatever he had to do to attain and master absolute political power, and he succeeded. The Senate later deified him after his death, and the cult of Augustus lasted as long as his government did (over 200 years). What an honest-to-Jupiter badass.</p>','2006-10-20','9711275828','badass-augustus1_new1.jpg','badass-augustus1_new - Copy.jpg','Caesar Augustus','Used democracy to make himself Roman Emperor.',''),('Anastasia DeCobray','1982 Introduced','N/A','Classified','Fictional Russian Supervillain','<p>Baroness Anastasia DeCobray as born to a family of snooty nondescript minor European lords and eventually grew into one of the most diabolical criminal masterminds the world has ever seen.&nbsp; She got her start in the ranks of student activism and quickly graduated to international terrorism - but not the sort of bullshit \"suicide bomber\" terrorist pussies - the sort of \"world domination\" terrorists that you can really sort of have some respect for.&nbsp; She\'s not out there to make some idiotic convoluted political statement by beheading civilians or humping goats in the mountains somewhere;&nbsp; She\'s the kind of crazy bitch that\'s hell-bent on conquering third-world countries by building giant anamatronic cobras that have guns duct-taped to their heads, shoot mind control gas out of their eyes and eat babies.&nbsp; Essentially The Baroness is to terrorism what high-class escorts are to prostitution.</p>\r\n<p>As a high-ranking member of the international terrorist organization COBRA, The Baroness is the most powerful woman in the world\'s most criminally inept military force in history.&nbsp; But don\'t blame her - you know that a general can only go to war with the army she\'s given.&nbsp; Since the woman is pretty much always the brains behind any organization, you know that she\'s got COBRA Commander and Destro eating out of the palm of her hand.&nbsp; Unfortunatly, that can only get you so far, since COBRA Commander has a habit of completely fucking bungling every single operation he undergoes, and his crack force of half-retarded military rejects spend far more time getting their heads bonked together by G.I. Joes than doing anything even remotely productive.</p>\r\n<p>The Baroness herself, however, doesn\'t put up with stupid bullshit and is totally capable of kicking balls and taking names herself.&nbsp; She\'s more than happy to don her sexy librarian glasses, jet black form-fitting body armor and black leather jumpsuit and start shoving the three-inch heels of her clunky knee-high boots up the asses of capitalist pig democracies across the globe.&nbsp; Just check out her file card:</p>\r\n<p><a href=\"http://www.myuselessknowledge.com/joe/baroness.html\" target=\"blank\">Character Page</a></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.amazingben.com/badass-baronesscard.gif\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>She\'s a master of espionage and counter-intelligence, with expert marksman training on several NATO and Warsaw pact small arms.&nbsp; Her file card indicates her proficiency in the operation of several vehicles, including the H.I.S.S. Heavy Tank, and a variety of fixed-wing military aircraft.&nbsp; On top of these abilities, her card does fail to mention one other special skill of hers however:&nbsp; Her high-level training in Transformer Piloting:</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.amazingben.com/badass-baronessoptimus.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />I\'m not even sure what\'s going on in this picture,<br />but it definitely involves super-badass&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/optimusprime.html\" target=\"blank\">Optimus Prime</a><br />wearing COBRA markings and carrying The Baroness around,<br />which is enough to rank it as one of the greatest pictures I have ever seen.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Despite their struggle for the forces of good, Scarlet and Lady Jaye have nothing on The Baroness.&nbsp; She\'s the most kickass bitch to ever plot the violent overthrow of every civilized nation on the planet, and if I had to pick one diabolical criminal mastermind to help me lead an armed revolution in a third-world country while driving around in a giant robotic monkey with laser eyes and wearing elaborate costumes, it would be her.</p>\r\n<table style=\"width: 90%;\" cellspacing=\"15\" align=\"center\">\r\n<tbody>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><br />\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.amazingben.com/badass-baroness2.gif\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n</td>\r\n<td><br />\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.amazingben.com/badass-baroness.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span>This was drawn by Elizabeth for the&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.somethingawful.com/index.php?a=2060\" target=\"blank\">SA Contest</a>&nbsp;in 2004.</span></p>\r\n<span><br /></span></td>\r\n</tr>\r\n</tbody>\r\n</table>','2006-10-13','62786631257','badass-baroness1_byAdamHugh1.jpg','badass-baroness1_byAdamHugh - Copy.jpg','The Baroness','Female criminal mastermind, bane to GI Joes.',''),('Zvi Greengold','1952','N/A','Israel','20th-century Israeli Soldier','<p>Zivka Greengold was sitting at home on his Kibbutz on 6 October 1973, spending a quiet, peaceful day observing Yom Kippur, the holiest day in the Jewish calendar, when he heard the familiar but unexpected sound of Israeli fighter jets streaking through the sky over his home.&nbsp; Zvika knew that no Israeli Defense Force (IDF) exercises would ever be held on the most solemn of Jewish high holy days, and immediately knew that something was awry.&nbsp;He rushed to his military radio, scanned through the frequencies and frantically searched for some indication as to what the hell was going on.</p>\r\n<p>What he heard confirmed his darkest fears:&nbsp; War.&nbsp; Egyptian military forces had launched a sneak attack on Israeli positions in the Suez Canal, catching the IDF at the worst possible time.&nbsp; Even more alarming than this were the reports of Syrian armored troops launching an all-out assault on the Golan Heights to the North.</p>\r\n<p>The Golan Heights had been captured by Israel in the royal ass-stomping that was the Six-Day War.&nbsp; The heights were of critical strategic importance to the survival of the fledgling Jewish state, for any Arab artillery batteries placed on their slopes would be capable of striking strategic targets deep within the heart of Israel.&nbsp; Greengold understood the gravity of the situation.&nbsp; He also knew that the IDF, having been caught unprepared, would be severely outnumbered and outgunned by the powerful Syrian armored tank divisions that were now pouring into the heights.&nbsp; It was a time that would separate heroes from cowards, and Lieutenant Zvika Greengold of the Israeli Defense Force knew that it was time for him to be a fucking badass.</p>\r\n<p>Lieutenant Greengold rushed to his room, threw on his military uniform and ran out to the street, where he hitched a ride to a nearby army base.&nbsp; When he arrived, he was told that there wasn\'t much that could be done.&nbsp; But badasses like Zvika don\'t ever take that as an answer.&nbsp; Lt. Greengold radioed in to Brigade HQ and requested to be put in charge of his old tank company.&nbsp; His request was granted, and Greengold hopped in a nearby half-track and hauled ass to the Israeli forward base at the Nafah crossroads - a critical choke point on the Israeli side of the Golan Heights.</p>\r\n<p>When Zvika arrived at the Nafah base, he was dismayed to see that the base was populated almost entirely by wounded IDF soldiers and had next to nothing in terms of operational military equipment.&nbsp; However, Greengold was intend on kicking some fucking asses, and he was going to do it any way that he possibly could.&nbsp; He noticed two severely damaged IDF Centurion tanks sitting unmanned in the corner of the base, and immediately knew what he had to do.&nbsp; Zvika radioed Brigade HQ and told them that he had \"a tank force\" and was requesting permission to go into battle against the invading Syrians.&nbsp; HQ of course accepted, not having any fucking clue that the newly-commissioned \"Zvika Force\" merely consisted of two half-destroyed tanks led by a totally balls-out IDF Lieutenant.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-centurion2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />An IDF Centurion tank, or roughly one-half of Zvika Force.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>The battle on the slopes of the Golan Heights was not going well for Israel.&nbsp; The IDF generally undergoes a large-scale demobilization for the Yom Kippur holiday, and as a result the Israelis had a force of two tank brigades (about 188 tanks) trying to defend a critical gateway to Israel against five full Divisions of Syrian armor, consisting of over two thousand Russian-made T-62 tanks.&nbsp; The beleaguered and outnumbered IDF troops on the front reported a great surge of confidence when they heard that their position was going to be reinforced by Zvika Force, only to be slightly confused and probably a little pissed off when two dudes rolled up in half-broken tanks claiming to be ready for action.</p>\r\n<p>Zvika Force didn\'t even give a crap though.&nbsp; The two tanks sped to the front lines at top speed and ran face-first into a huge mass of Syrian armor.&nbsp; Zvika recalls in&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.jafi.org.il/education/actual/ykippur/4-6.html\" target=\"blank\">this article</a>:</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<blockquote>\r\n<blockquote>\r\n<p><em>\"I fired [at the first tank] and he burst into flames. There was a terrific flash so I backed away fast.&nbsp; Then I found the radio wasn\'t working.&nbsp; I moved to the other tank and changed places with its commander.&nbsp; I told him, \'Watch me and do as I do, if possible\'.&nbsp; Within a short time, a second Syrian arrived and we set him ablaze.&nbsp; I saw others, then noticed that the tank alongside me had vanished.&nbsp; I was alone, and surrounded from the front and to the right.&nbsp; I fired in both directions, destroying a number, moving backwards all the time.&nbsp; They began a search with lights.&nbsp; I destroyed a few more.&nbsp; The brigadier asked over the radio how many tanks I had. I told him:&nbsp; \'My situation isn\'t good and I can\'t tell you how many.\'\"</em></p>\r\n</blockquote>\r\n</blockquote>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>At a time when most people would have freaked out, panicked and run away like little bitches, Zvika Force continued to roll backwards and kept firing at the seemingly endless stream of Syrian tank forces.&nbsp; He eventually re-linked up with his other tank and the two of them executed hit-and-run night raids on Syrian positions.&nbsp; At one point, his tank was hit by enemy fire, severely burning the right side of his body and wounding him with shrapnel.&nbsp; Zvika wasn\'t about to be slowed down by this, so he simply got out of his flaming inferno of a tank and transferred over to the only other operational Centurion in his command.&nbsp; Zvika Force then spent the entire rest of the evening zipping around the Heights in a lone tank helping out Israeli forces wherever it could, frequently swooping in at critical moments from an unexpected direction to turn the tide of a skirmish in favor of the IDF.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>At dawn on 7 October, Brigade HQ sent a company of IDF tanks to reinforce Lt. Greengold\'s command.&nbsp; Zvika deployed his Force in a defensive position along the Tapline Road, a critical crossroads that was crucial to the defense of the Heights.&nbsp; The Syrians had enough of Zvika Force\'s bullshit, and sent an entire Division of T-62s out to fuck his shit up.&nbsp; In the grueling battle that ensued, the sixteen tanks of Zvika Force were able to hold their own at close range against seemingly impossible odds.&nbsp; In the heat of the battle however, Greengold heard radio chatter that the IDF forward base at Nafah had fallen under attack by the Syrians.&nbsp; Realizing that the battle he was now embroiled in was merely a feint to pull Zvika Force out of position, Zvika and one other tank broke off from the battle and rushed back to defend Nafah.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-centurion3.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Zvika Force rolled into Nafah base only to find IDF troops falling back in disarray in the face of overwhelming Syrian numbers.&nbsp; Zvika\'s tank driver saw this, exclaimed, \"I\'m too old for this shit!\", popped the hatch and ran away like a bitch - his nerves at this point were too fried to continue.&nbsp; Once again, Zvika was forced to change tanks in order to continue fighting.</p>\r\n<p>The next several hours consisted of the one-man Zvika Force driving around to various strategic positions throughout the Nafah base, firing on the approaching Syrian hordes with determination and deadly precision in a desperate last stand.&nbsp; During the intense fight, an Israeli brigade commander drove up on the ridge behind Nafah base and radioed back to HQ, \"there\'s no one in the camp except a single tank fighting like mad along the fences.\"</p>\r\n<p>Despite being alone in a damaged tank dangerously low on ammunition and impossibly outgunned, Lieutenant Zvika Greengold battled furiously in the defense of his homeland.&nbsp; He was not going to let himself buckle in the face of the enemy, and had no intention of allowing the Syrian forces to capture this critical foothold into Israel.&nbsp; He would die before he would let Nafah base be overrun.</p>\r\n<p>Finally, IDF tank units reached Zvika\'s position to reinforce him.&nbsp; According to&nbsp;<a href=\"http://info.jpost.com/C003/Supplements/30YK/art.23.html\" target=\"blank\">this article</a>, \"During a lull [in the battle] Zvika Greengold painfully lowered himself from his tank, covered with burns, wounds and soot.&nbsp; \'I can\'t go on anymore,\' he said to the staff office who had sent him into battle 30 hours before.&nbsp; The officer embraced him and found a vehicle to carry Greengold to the hospital.\"&nbsp; Greengold collapsed from exhaustion, having fought for his life in numerous high-intensity conflicts for over thirty hours straight and facing countless hair-raising battles.&nbsp;&nbsp;<a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yom_Kippur_War\" target=\"blank\">The Yom Kippur War</a>would have to continue without him.</p>\r\n<p>Lieutenant Zvika Greengold\'s actions on the Golan Heights in the opening days of the Yom Kippur War were critical to the success of the campaign.&nbsp; His small force consisting of anywhere between one and sixteen tanks managed to halt the Syrian advance on the Tapline Road and stall the invasion long enough for substantial IDF reinforcements to reach the front and join the battle.&nbsp; His guerilla-style tactics and high kill rate had the Syrian commanders convinced that they were fighting a much larger tank corps than they actually were arrayed against - effectively allowing Zvika Force to hold off five full Syrian Armored Divisions with only two Centurion tanks.&nbsp; Thanks to his brave and balls-out actions, Nafah Base never fell into enemy hands.&nbsp; Rather, in the days and weeks that followed, the IDF was able to push the Syrians completely out of the Golan Heights and re-establish a defensive line on the Syrian side of the pass - a line the marks the border between the two nations to this day.&nbsp; For his heroic actions in defense of his people, Zvika Greengold was awarded the Israeli Medal of Honor, the highest honor offered by his country.&nbsp; During his thirty-hour battle, Zvika was personally credited with over sixty tank kills, making him probably one of the most prolific and badassed tank aces of all time.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-zvika1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><em>\"There are men, alive and dead, who did wonderful things we don\'t even know about.<br />The men on the line did exceptional things and I pale by comparison.\"</em><br /><br />- Lt. Zvika Greengold</p>','2006-10-06','27997001925','badass-zvika_new1.jpg','badass-zvika_new - Copy.jpg','Zvika Greengold','Fought for Israel in the Yom Kippur War, and helped stave off the Syrians with seemingly no regard for personal safety, and with a giant set of balls.',''),('Al&#299; ibn Ab&#299; &#7788;&#257;lib','599','January 28, 661','Mecca, Saudi Arabian','Medieval Arab Warrior','<p>Ali ibn Abi Talib was born in 599 CE, the son of a powerful Sheikh in the Quaraysh tribe of central Arabia.&nbsp; He was the cousin, and later the son-in-law of the Prophet Mohammad through his daughter Fatima Zahra.&nbsp; He would grow to become one of the most powerful and influential heroes of Mohammad\'s army, would rule the Muslim Empire as the last of the Four Rightly-Guided Caliphs and would garner himself a place as one of the greatest and most badass heroes in the history of Islam.</p>\r\n<p>Ali and Mohammad were cousins, both of whom were raised as brothers by Ali\'s father.&nbsp; When Mohammad received the word of Islam and made a call for all to join him in his new religion Ali was one of the first to take up the sword for his new faith, converting at age ten.&nbsp; He supported Mohammad throughout his persecution in Mecca by the Quaraysh tribe, even going so far as to sleep in Mohammad\'s bed one night to thwart an assassination attempt.&nbsp; That\'s pretty hardcore, when you\'re willing to put your life on the line to save your friends.&nbsp; When the Muslims escaped to Medina, Ali made the trip as well.</p>\r\n<p>When fighting broke out between the Meccan Quarayshi and the Muslims, Ali was on the forefront of the battlefield, eager to prove his devotion by hacking some infidels new assholes.&nbsp; When the Muslims and the Meccans lined up across from each other at the Battle of Badr, both armies decided to send out their three biggest badasses to settle their differences in a Texas Tornado three-on-three mele&eacute; to the death.&nbsp; Ali stepped forward as one of the Muslim warriors, and promptly defeated the Meccan champion Walid ibn Utba in single combat.&nbsp; Once the Muslim heroes defeated the Meccans, a large-scale battle ensued.&nbsp; Ali was out in front with the other warriors, bravely battling large numbers of enemy soldiers.&nbsp; His valor that day is what prompted Mohammad to grant Ali Fatima Zahra\'s hand in marriage.</p>\r\n<p>One of the things that made Ali such a badass on the battlefield was his mythical sword Zulfiqar.&nbsp; Zulfiqar was a large scimitar with a two-pronged v-shaped point, and was described as being the Muslim Excalibur.&nbsp; Considering how badass Excalibur was, you can only imagine how much more awesome it would have been if it was a bitchin\'-ass scimitar instead of a boring European longsword.&nbsp; It\'s also fucking radical because Zulfiqar translates to either \"the two-pronged one\" or \"the cleaver of the spine\".&nbsp; That\'s pretty awesome.&nbsp; According to Shi\'a myth, Ali once used Zulfiqar to cleave both a horse and it\'s rider in half with one swing, and it would have actually cut a gaping hole in the Earth if the Archangel Jibreel hadn\'t stayed Ali\'s hand.&nbsp; Now you know you\'ve got a badass sword when you need a fucking Archangel to stop you from creating a damn fissure in the ground.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-zulfiqar1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />Some dude looks over at Zulfiqar (in the foreground) and says to \'Ali,<br />\"Daaaamn G, you ain\'t fucking around none are you?\"</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>As the war with Mecca went on, Ali continued to show his battle prowess.&nbsp; In the Battle of Uhud, Ali fought bravely and was wounded seventeen times (!!) while fighting off hordes of Meccan troops.&nbsp; He also managed to help rescue The Prophet when Mohammad fell into a hidden pit trap.&nbsp; Ultimately, the Muslim forces were beaten back by the superior generalship of mega-badass&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/khalid.html\" target=\"blank\">Khalid ibn Al-Waleed</a>, an incredibly powerful Meccan tribesman who would go on to be one of the greatest heroes of the Muslim Empire.&nbsp; I pretty much envision this battle going down like a game of<em>Dynasty Warriors 4</em>&nbsp;for the PS2, where you\'ve got like Ali and Khalid running around killing everything that moves and being totally awesome, but I guess Ali didn\'t take out enough Gate Captains or whatever so he ended up losing out on all the good Morale bonuses.</p>\r\n<p>After Uhud, the Meccans decided to lay siege to the Muslim home base of Medina.&nbsp; They attempted to assault the fortifications, and all of a sudden this gigantic beast of a man named Abdwood went totally balls out and leapt over the wall on horseback.&nbsp; Now this guy Abdwood was well-known and feared throughout the Muslim ranks for his badassitude, and here we was standing face-to-face with Ali and Mohammad.&nbsp; Ali took one step forward and drew Zulfiqar:</p>\r\n<p>\"Remember, Ali,\" said the Holy Prophet, \"it is Abdwood.\"</p>\r\n<p>\"Yes, Oh Messenger of Allah, I know it,\" replied Ali.</p>\r\n<p>Two minutes later Ali returned with the decapitated head of Abdwood.&nbsp; The Meccan seige fell the following week.</p>\r\n<p>After Uhud and the seige of Medina, Ali let the Medina community for ten years as a Lieutenant of Mohammad, serving in the armies and going on numerous raids and battles throughout the middle east in the name of Islam.&nbsp; Mohammad\'s death in 632 CE resulted in a dispute over succession - many believed the Ali should be the one to step into the role as leader of the Muslim people, but Abu Bakr was the one voted into the Caliphate.&nbsp; This division marks the major break between Shi\'a and Sunni Islam:&nbsp; the Shi\'a believe that Ali was tapped by Mohammad to be the next spiritual leader of his people, while the Sunni believe that Abu Bakr was the correct decision.&nbsp; Whatever the reasoning, the fact is that Abu Bakr was the first Calph of the Muslim Empire.&nbsp; He was succeeded by \'Uman and Uthman, while Ali continued to serve as a faithful lieutenant, writing numerous works on religion and morality and providing wisdom and sermons to all who would listen.</p>\r\n<p>After Uthman was assassinated in 656 CE, Ali was elected Caliph.&nbsp; This did not sit well with Mohammad\'s widow Aisha, who raised an army to battle Ali.&nbsp; Ali\'s army was able to crush this insurgency, but instead of throwing Aisha into prison or executing her as a traitor, Ali decided to respect her status as a Wife of the Prophet and allowed her to move to Medina with a full widow\'s pension.&nbsp; That\'s pretty hardcore when you can still show mercy and compassion to someone who declared you unfit to rule and then tried to fucking kill you.</p>\r\n<p>Ali would later do battle with the governor of Syria, a relative of Uthman\'s named Mu\'awiya.&nbsp; Ali was assassinated at age 63 when he was hit in the back of the head with a poisoned sword when he was in the middle of his morning prayers at Ramadan.&nbsp; He was buried in secret to prevent the desecration of his grave by his enemies.</p>\r\n<p>Ali had nine wives and thirty-six children in his lifetime.&nbsp; He was just that damn smooth.&nbsp; His two sons from Fatima, Hasan and Husayn, did not assume the Caliphate after Ali\'s death; rather it went to Mu\'awiya, who established the Umayyad Dynasty.&nbsp; Ali\'s sons are considered by the Shi\'ites to be the continuation of the line of the Imams that began with Ali - sacred heroes destined to act as the guardians (wali) of Islam and the divinely appointed successors of Mohammad.</p>\r\n<p>Ali was known throughout the Muslim world by such badass nicknames as The Commander of the Faithful, The Charging Lion, and The Winning Lion of God.&nbsp; He was pious and played a pivotal role in the development of his fledgling religion; essentially serving as like a St. Peter to Mohammad\'s Jesus.&nbsp; He preached his religion, and defended it bravely with the sword when necessary.&nbsp; He was badass.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-zulfiqar.png\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<blockquote>\r\n<blockquote>\r\n<p>\"The zeal and virtue of Ali were never outstripped by any recent proselyte.&nbsp; He united the qualifications of a poet, a soldier and a saint;&nbsp; his wisdom still breathes in a collection of moral and religious sayings; and every antagonist, in the combats of the tongue or of the sword, was subdued by his eloquence and valour.&nbsp; From the first hour of his mission to the last rites of his funeral, the apostle was never forsaken by a generous friend, whom he delighted to name his brother, his vicegerent, and the faithful Aaron of a second Moses.\"</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\">- Edward Gibbon,&nbsp;<em>The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire</em></p>\r\n<div><em><br /></em></div>\r\n</blockquote>\r\n</blockquote>','2006-09-29','26690222339','badass-ali_new.jpg','badass-ali_new - Copy.jpg','Ali ibn Abi Talib','The first male convert to Islam and one of Mohammad\'s most powerful and revered warriors.',''),('Susan Kuhnhausen','Unknown','N/A','Portland, OR, USA','21st-century American Doctor','<p>Being an Operating Room nurse is a tough job.&nbsp; Susan Kuhnhausen knows this all too well; she\'s been doing it for thirty years.&nbsp; Patients get rowdy, the environment is hectic and relentless, and the pay is sub-par.&nbsp; So you can imagine her dismay when she returned home after a long hard day at the office, shut off her house\'s burglar alarm, and turned around to find this&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/glass.html\" target=\"blank\">Hugh Glass</a>-looking motherfucker lurking in her kitchen:</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-haffey.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>As if it weren\'t bad enough that this unkempt lunatic were merely inside her home, two seconds after she noticed him he ran up and cracked her in the head with a motherfucking claw hammer.</p>\r\n<p>Now this is where the story would have ended for most of us.&nbsp; You see, this guy, Ed Haffey, was a hit man hired by Susan\'s estranged husband to bash her fucking skull in with a hammer until she stopped breathing.&nbsp; Well Susan\'s a tough broad.&nbsp; She wasn\'t going to go down that easily.</p>\r\n<p>Susan Kuhnhausen decided it was time to show this redneck motherfucker what badassery was all about.&nbsp; She grappled with him, bit him, and wrestled the hammer away from him.&nbsp; Unfortunately, before she could get a chance to return the blunt force trauma favor for him and teach him what \"Hammer Time\" was all about, he started punching and biting her and managed to knock the weapon out of her grasp.&nbsp; With both of them now unarmed, Susan decided it was time to settle this the old-fashioned way.&nbsp; They wrestled, continued punching each other, and both went to the ground.&nbsp; After a fierce Ultimate Fighting Championship-esque struggle on the floor of her kitchen she managed to slap a Ric Flair-style choke hold on this stupid bastard and choke the holy living shit out of him.&nbsp; Susan then calmly walked out of her house and has a neighbor call 911 to report a death by strangulation.&nbsp; According to the&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.cnn.com/2006/US/09/08/nurse.intruder.ap/index.html\" target=\"blank\">CNN story</a>, \"...the neighbor said Kuhnhausen wasn\'t too shaken up when she fled to her house.&nbsp; \'You didn\'t need to calm her,\' [neighbor Ann] Warnock said.&nbsp; \'She\'s an emergency room nurse. She\'s used to dealing with crisis. She was very clear thinking and took care of the problem.\'\"</p>\r\n<p>Yeah, no shit.&nbsp; That\'s fucking hardcore.&nbsp; This has to go down as one of the most badass feats of home defense I\'ve ever heard of.&nbsp; Susan Kuhnhausen wasn\'t fucking around with this guy;&nbsp; she knew it was a life-or-death situation and had the strength, willpower and presence of mind to ensure that she would be the one who walked away from the encounter.&nbsp; It must take serious cojones to strangle someone to death, but when it comes down to either you or him, a true badass understands what they must do.</p>\r\n<p>\"Anybody that could be the type of nurse she has been for so long says a lot about her compassion and love,\" [neighbor Deanna Hall] said.&nbsp; \"But she knows when to put her foot down.&nbsp; And, she doesn\'t take crap from anybody.\"</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span></p>\r\n<p><a href=\"http://www.lineofduty.com/blotterstory.asp?StoryID=93710\" target=\"blank\">Multiple versions of the story can be found here</a></p>\r\n<p><a href=\"http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20060916/ap_on_re_us/intruder_killed\" target=\"blank\">The Yahoo! News version</a></p>\r\n<p><a href=\"http://www.oregonlive.com/news/oregonian/index.ssf?/base/news/1158292506182310.xml&amp;coll=7\" target=\"blank\">Oregon news details the entire murder plot</a></p>','2006-09-22','71652993170','kuhnhausen_new1.jpg','kuhnhausen_new - Copy.jpg','Susan Kuhnhausen','Even a hitman with a claw hammer couldn\'t shake this woman\'s focus.',''),('Northrop Grumman B-2 Spirit','July 17, 1989 First flight','N/A','Palmdale, CA, USA','21st-century American Weapon','<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-family: helvetica; font-size: xx-small;\">Vehicle Statistics</span></p>\r\n<table style=\"width: 60%;\" border=\"1\" cellspacing=\"1\" cellpadding=\"3\">\r\n<tbody>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td width=\"30%\"><strong>Designation:</strong></td>\r\n<td>B-2 Spirit</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><strong>Function:</strong></td>\r\n<td>Multi-role heavy bomber</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><strong>Nation of Origin:</strong></td>\r\n<td>The United States of America</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><strong>Speed:</strong></td>\r\n<td>High subsonic</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><strong>Range:</strong></td>\r\n<td>6,000 nautical miles (9,600 km)</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><strong>Ceiling:</strong></td>\r\n<td>50,000 feet (15,240 meters)</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><strong>Primary Armament:</strong></td>\r\n<td>Various conventional or nuclear weapons</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><strong>Payload:</strong></td>\r\n<td>40,000 pounds (18,444 kg)</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><strong>Power Plant:</strong></td>\r\n<td>Four General Electric F-118-GE-100 engines</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><strong>Crew:</strong></td>\r\n<td>Two (pilot, mission commander)</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n</tbody>\r\n</table>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>So my wife and I were driving down Route 9 last Saturday just minding our own business, bullshitting about something inane like whether or not Angelina Jolie could beat Jennifer Aniston in a Russian underground roller derby slapfighting ring when all of a sudden she pointed out the window emphatically and exclaimed, \"holy shit what the fuck is THAT thing?!\"</p>\r\n<p>I peered out through the windshield and saw something that I\'d only seen before in pictures:</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-b2spirit2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Pictures can\'t do this thing justice, however.&nbsp; I\'m a veteran of many, many air shows and pre-game jet fighter fly-bys, but no plane I\'ve ever seen (military or otherwise) was as ominous, foreboding and awe-inspiring as as this thing.&nbsp; It was unbelievable.</p>\r\n<p>First off, you can see why the yokels out at Area 51 thought they were seeing UFOs when the USAF was test flying these things in the Nevada desert.&nbsp; It\'s unlike anything you\'ve ever seen before.&nbsp; It\'s almost completely flat, pitch black, and unconventionally shaped.&nbsp; It seriously just looks like a hole in the sky.&nbsp; Plus, when it flew over our heads we didn\'t even hear it.&nbsp; It was flying pretty low, and the fact that it was completely silent just made its presence that much more unnatural and unnerving.&nbsp; Watching this thing fly overtop of our car was enough to convince me that if the USAF is out to get you there\'s not a whole lot you can do about it.&nbsp; If this thing wanted to drop eight thousand pounds of ordinance and replace my Honda with a giant smoking crater, my experience Saturday convinced me that I\'d be completely fucked.</p>\r\n<p>The B-2 bomber is the epitome of Stealth techonology;&nbsp; it\'s invisible to all forms of radar and tracking and gives off no heat signatures, vapor trails or audible clues as to it\'s location.&nbsp; It utilizes it\'s retardedly long range to launch bombing raids on the Middle East from secure bases as far away as the United States and Europe and it\'s black hull, combined with the fact that it usually executes it\'s bombing raids at night, makes it virtually impossible to detect with the human eye.&nbsp; It flies at incredibly high altitudes, but is capable of using it\'s on-board guidance systems to accurately place large numbers of bombs and strike dozens of targets in a single run.&nbsp; The amount of ordinance it carries and the lack of a need for fighter escort (thanks to the Stealth technology), allow two B-2s to complete a bombing raid which previously required 32 F-16s, 16 F-15s, and 27 support aircraft, and perform it with a range that was unheard of before-hand.&nbsp; It\'s the ultimate in \"silent but deadly\", like roughly equivalent to being surprise attacked by fifty thousand ninjas AT THE SAME TIME.&nbsp; It\'s like you\'ll just be hanging out drinking some booze with your Taliban buddies when all of a sudden you get a telegram from the United States Air Force reading, \"I\'m in ur base killing ur d00dz\" and the next thing you know you\'re getting a knuckle sandwich from a 2,000-pound bomb with a picture of Uncle Sam giving you the finger painted on the side of it.</p>\r\n<p>B-2s have served in Kosovo, Afghanistan and Iraq, and a stealth bomber has never been shot down by enemy fire.&nbsp; In fact, some scientists predict that if you actually were able to hit a B-2 with a surface-to-air missile, it would just get pissed and morph into a giant Voltron-like robot capable of destroying entire villages with its Power Sword.&nbsp; So don\'t fuck with it.&nbsp; Also, it costs like three billion US dollars to make ONE of these fuckers.&nbsp; You\'ve gotta respect any piece of military hardware that\'s so goddamned expensive that one-fifth of the countries in the world couldn\'t buy it with their Annual Gross Domestic Product.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-b2spirit.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>','2006-09-15','90707493345','badass-b2spirit1_new1.jpg','badass-b2spirit1_new copy.jpg','The B-2 Bomber','The mother of all American bomber planes.',''),('Stephen Robert  Irwin','February 22, 1962','September 4, 2006','Essendon, Victoria, Australia','20th-century Australian Adventurer','<p>A few weeks ago I posted a Badass of the Week article on the site describing all the reasons why&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/australia.html\" target=\"blank\">the continent of Australia</a>&nbsp;was a badass, brutal land plagued by some of the most insanely dangerous killer creatures the world has ever seen.&nbsp; In the article, Anders described the Down Under as \"a terrible place that leaves none but the strongest alive.\"&nbsp; Well nobody demonstrated that axiom better than The Crocodile Hunter Steve Irwin.&nbsp; He was one of the craziest, the fastest, and the most badassed motherfuckers ever.&nbsp; He made a living out of thrusting himself into life-or-death duels with the world\'s most dangerous animals simply for personal enjoyment and the entertainment and education of others.</p>\r\n<p>The day after Steve\'s&nbsp;<a href=\"http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20060904/ap_en_tv/obit_irwin_20\" target=\"blank\">tragic death</a>&nbsp;in a freak diving accident, I received numerous emails from people suggesting that I post an article about him.&nbsp; In fact, I got more requests for him than I\'ve ever received for any one individual.&nbsp; While I certainly didn\'t need any convincing, I found these two emails particularly compelling:</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<blockquote>\r\n<blockquote>\r\n<p>Don\'t make Steve Irwin your next badass of the week as a lame gesture because he died recently, don\'t make him badass of the week because when he got stabbed in the heart by a stingray he grabbed onto one of the most heavily barbed spikes on earth and just yanked it the fuck out.&nbsp; Make him your next badass of the week because he made a career out of wrestling crocodiles, snakes, and every other foul reptile known to man, do it because he did all of that with a big grin on his face.&nbsp; In short do it because he made your previous badass (Australia) his fucking bitch.</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\">----</p>\r\n<p>In light of the article on how badass Australia is, I was hoping perhaps you\'d make Steve Irwin a badass soon, as he is most definitely one of the most badass people to come out of Australia in the past 50 years.&nbsp; Everything you discussed in the Australia article, Steve not only came way closer than anybody should do many of the most poisonous things, but he actually pissed many of them off for the entertainment and education of his avid fans using nothing but his bare hands, and sometimes twigs.</p>\r\n<p>I think it would be a bloody shame if Steve Irwin wasn\'t made a badass this week, or soon after, as he faced all the same stuff you said we should fear in Australia with a thick accent and a big old grin, and he even died on camera doing the same kinds of things.</p>\r\n</blockquote>\r\n</blockquote>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-irwin3.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>This is all true.&nbsp; Steve Irwin didn\'t even think twice about tackling fifteen foot crocs, wrestling giant pythons or holding the most poisonous spiders on the planet ten inches from his face.&nbsp; Not only did he do shit that most so-called badasses would never even THINK of attempting in their right minds;&nbsp; He fucking&nbsp;<em>loved it</em>.&nbsp; He lived for that shit.&nbsp; He traveled to every corner of the earth to find the deadliest, most ferocious animals imaginable.&nbsp; He was fearless, reckless and balls-out 110% of the time.&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>My brother and I used to watch The Crocodile Hunter pretty much every Saturday morning growing up.&nbsp; I remember that one time he was doing a series where he went around Australia trying to catch the top ten most poisonous snakes on the entire continent, just for the hell of it.&nbsp; And you know what?&nbsp; He did it.&nbsp; He didn\'t even give a crap.&nbsp; Without any hesitation he would jam his hand into a random hole in the ground, blindly grab this damn insane pissed-off hyper-deadly four-foot-long snake by it\'s tail, hold it up and exclaim, \"Croikey!!&nbsp; This is the world\'s third-most poisonous snake!&nbsp; One bite from him is powerful enough to kill ten thousand orangoutangs in about two seconds!!!\", and he\'d be going on while this fucking snake would be hissing and striking at his face trying to bite him.&nbsp; And this guy would get PUMPED by it.&nbsp; To hear him carry on you\'d think that he\'d just won the lottery; instead he was being snapped at by one of the world\'s most dangerous creatures - something that would make most sane people crap their pants.&nbsp; That\'s how much he enjoyed that stuff, and that\'s fucking hardcore.&nbsp; Actually, that\'s probably a step up from hardcore.&nbsp; For lack of a better term, that\'s like \"Steve Irwin Hardcore\".</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-irwin2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Generally my Badass of the Week articles tend to degenerate into over-statement, exaggeration and hyperbole within the span of about two sentences.&nbsp; With Steve, there\'s no need for any of that.&nbsp; The guy was a professional badass.&nbsp; He was an intrepid explorer and was utterly fearless, ready and willing to take on anything he might encounter in the dangerous Australian brush.&nbsp; He could sneak up on an angry crocodile, and leap at it with such lightning-quick agility that he\'d have that bastard in a choke hold before it even knew what the hell was going on.&nbsp; He\'d flip out of his boat, lunge at it, there would be a flurry of water and limbs and then BAM - instant crocodile submission.&nbsp; Wherever there was a dangerous animal, Steve wasn\'t far behind.&nbsp; He was tough, funny and half-insane, and as a result his shows were some of the greatest animal education tools ever created.&nbsp; Also, I once saw him jump into a kiddie pool full of water and wrestle an inflatable alligator raft on Oprah or Maury or one of those shows.&nbsp; He didn\'t even give a crap.</p>\r\n<p>To top it all off, Steve loved and respected these killer animals so much that he could never hurt them.&nbsp; Instead he dedicated his life to preserving his country\'s native fauna.&nbsp; In my opinion that\'s even more badass, because it takes way more skill to capture a wild croc than to kill one.&nbsp; Sure, any drunken hick can pop a varmint in the face with a shotgun, but only a true Grade-A badass would jump on it\'s back, wrestle it into submission with his bare hands and then take it to a private nature preserve where it would be safe from poachers and other potential human predators.&nbsp; He was a powerful force in the wildlife conservation movement, raising tons of money and awareness for wildlife conservation efforts, starting up his own zoo, and doing whatever he could to try and save the planet\'s wild animals.&nbsp; With his passing, the conservation effort lost one of it\'s brightest stars.</p>\r\n<p>The Crocodile Hunter Steve Irwin\'s death is a tragedy that has effectively dropped the overall badassitude of the entire planet by at least 5%.&nbsp; But in the end, he died doing what he loved.&nbsp; He understood the risks that came with his line of work, and he constantly faced them not only without any fear or hesitation, but with the energy and passion that can only come from doing something that you truly love.&nbsp; He entertained the world for ten years, teaching a generation of children and adults alike exactly what it means to be a total badass.</p>\r\n<p>We will miss you, Steve.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-irwin1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>','2006-09-08','63842273446','badass-irwin_new1.jpg','badass-irwin_new - Copy.jpg','Steve Irwin','Craziest, coolest man to ever willingly shove his hand into a crocodile\'s danger zone.',''),('Larcena Pennington','January 10, 1837','March 31, 1913','Nashville, TN, USA','19th-century American Adventurer','<p>Back in the day, the pioneer west was a horrible bitch goddess who feasted on the broken dreams of wayward travelers and drank the blood of anyone foolhardy enough to cross her.&nbsp; Disease and famine were rampant, and in the more-common-than-not occasion that you contracted Malaria or Diphtheria of some other god-awful&nbsp;<em>Oregon Trail</em>-style disease, you were about ten times more likely to be stuck in the chest with an Apache arrow than stuck in the arm with any sort of medicinal syringe.&nbsp; There were great amounts of land and riches to be had on the American frontier, but if you wanted to survive out there you had to be tough, resilient and badass.&nbsp; And Larcena Pennington was all of those things.</p>\r\n<p>In 1857 Larcena\'s family moved out to Arizona to make a new life on the frontier.&nbsp; She was married two years later and moved out to Madera Canyon to live in a small camp with her husband, John Page, his homeboy William Randall and 11 year-old Mercedes Quiroz.&nbsp; Things were going pretty well until one day when Page and Randall were out hunting and Larcena\'s camp was raided by Apache Indians.&nbsp; Larcena, being the hardcore motherfucker she was, ran to get her revolver, but the Apaches managed to subdue her before she could turn the weapon against them.&nbsp; They captured Larcena and Mercedes, and informed them that the men of the camp had already been killed by the Apaches.</p>\r\n<p>Over the next several hours, the Apaches forced Larcena and Mercedes march through the treacherous Arizona desert.&nbsp; Larcena and Mercedes briefly attempted to tear off small pieces of their clothing and leave a trail for John and William to find, but the Indians caught on to this and forced them to stop under penalty of angry spear poking.&nbsp; After roughly sixteen miles through the wilderness Larcena, who had been recovering from illness, finally started to lose her strength.&nbsp; She fell behind, and when it became obvious that she would be unable to keep up the Apaches decided she was of no further use to them.&nbsp; They took her to the edge of a mountain bluff, stripped her down to her petticoat, stabbed her repeatedly with their spears, shot her a couple times and then finally chucked her off the cliff.&nbsp; She fell sixteen feet to the snow-covered ground below.&nbsp; As she lay there motionless, some of the Indians threw rocks down on her (just to be dicks).</p>\r\n<p>Now for most of us this is pretty much where the story would end;&nbsp; getting totally fucking pwned by 1337 Ap@ch3z and dying alone and pantsless in the middle of fucking nowhere.&nbsp; Shit, Bill S. Preston and Ted Theodore Logan died when the Evil Robot Dudes threw them off a cliff without shooting&nbsp;<em>OR</em>&nbsp;stabbing them.&nbsp; Well Larcena wasn\'t about to give up that easily.&nbsp; She was far too badass to let something like a couple of gaping flesh wounds and broken bones keep her down.&nbsp; She passed in and out of consciousness, awaking once to hear the voice of her husband and his search party.&nbsp; She feebly attempted to call out to him, but he didn\'t hear it.&nbsp; Once he passed, she knew it was up to her to get shit done.</p>\r\n<p>Larcena Pennington fell unconscious for three days, finally awakening and deciding that it was time to get the fuck out of Dodge.&nbsp; For ten days she walked, crawled and clawed her way back to her camp, eating whatever she could find and drinking snow water.&nbsp; When she needed to sleep, she dug a hole in the ground with her bare hands and crawled into it to keep warm.&nbsp; The wounds on her back were so grievous that she was forced to sleep curled up on all fours.&nbsp; She suffered numerous blisters, severe sunburn, exposure, hypothermia, and the possibility of infection in her wounds.</p>\r\n<p>After ten days crawling through the grueling wilderness, Larcena finally reached an abandoned camp not far from her home.&nbsp; She pulled a stick out of the campfire and carried this makeshift torch back to her home, using it to light the campfire there.&nbsp; She made some food, got some rest, and the next day was discovered by passing frontiersmen.&nbsp; Her harrowing ordeal had left her emaciated and badly hurt, but she was nursed back to health and was eventually reunited with her husband.&nbsp; She also learned that Mercedes had been released by the Apache as part of a prisoner exchange with the US Army.</p>\r\n<p>Larcena would go on to deal with even more hardship in her life.&nbsp; Her husband would die the following year, and over the course of three years she would lose her father and four of her eleven siblings.&nbsp; Finally, her family decided they were sick of being killed by Indians and disease and moved back East, but Larcena stayed in Tucson.&nbsp; She wasn\'t going to let the frontier get the best of her, and she war hardcore enough to survive anything that fate could throw at her.&nbsp; She remarried, had two kids, survived smallpox and lived to the ripe old age of 76.</p>\r\n<p>Larcena Pennington was a tough old broad.&nbsp; She faced an ordeal that would have killed lesser men and women several times over and managed to survive by sheer force of will alone.&nbsp; No matter how fucked up things got and how stacked the odds were against her at any point in her life, she persevered and pushed her body to the limit, doing everything in her power merely to survive.&nbsp; She was a fucking badass.</p>\r\n<p>You can read more detailed (and probably accurate) accounts of Larcena\'s adventures either at her&nbsp;<a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Larcena_Pennington\" target=\"blank\">Wikipedia entry</a>&nbsp;or by&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/larcenapennington.pdf\">clicking this link</a>&nbsp;and reading a PDF file of an article originally posted in the Arizona Highway Magazine.</p>','2006-09-01','8109794042','badass-pennington_new1.jpg','badass-pennington_new - Copy.jpg','Larcena Pennington','This chick made the Oregon Trail her bitch.',''),('Roger T. Bannon','Unknown','N/A','Wilmette, IL, USA','Fictional American Mercenary','<p>Roger \"Race\" Bannon wass an ex-secret agent who served as the personal bodyguard to Dr. Benton Quest, one of the most intelligent and well-respected scientists in the world.&nbsp; He also helped out in tutoring Dr. Quest\'s two sons, Jonny and Hadji, training them in all the awesome shit that they need to know to become well-adjusted adults:&nbsp; &uuml;ber-manly skills like shooting, driving and punching.</p>\r\n<p>I remember watching the original Jonny Quest episodes every Saturday morning with my dad and my brother and thinking that Race Bannon was the most badass guy I had ever seen.&nbsp; First off, he\'s a former employee of the Intelligence One agency, so he\'s well-versed in covert actions, intelligence gathering, security, electronics and espionage.&nbsp; On top of that, the guy can fucking pilot&nbsp;<em>anything</em>.&nbsp; He can fly fighter jets, drive hovercrafts, ride wild alpacas... you name it.&nbsp; If it can be driven, he knows how to pilot it.&nbsp; Plus he\'s a master of small arms, capable of holding his own with all manner of pistols, rifles, slingshots, blowguns and machine guns, and unlike a lot of wussy cartoons out there these days he doesn\'t have any compunctions about getting his hands dirty and blasting a quarter-sized hole in anything that he deems a threat to the Quest family.&nbsp; He\'s also an expert in hand-to-hand combat, willing to punch the shit out of anything that even looks at him cross-eyed.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-racebannon1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />Race busts through a motherfuckin\' window and kicks some idiot in the back.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Now a lot of people out there think that since Jonny\'s mother never appeared in the show, Race was actually more than just Dr. Quest\'s bodyguard.&nbsp; Bullshit.&nbsp; First off, Mrs. Quest was killed by Dr. Quest\'s arch-nemesis.&nbsp; How can any man remarry in good conscience knowing that the death of his first wife was an indirect result of his own actions?&nbsp; Impossible.&nbsp; If you\'re looking for hard evidence,&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/busted/113330324011345.htm\" target=\"blank\">this article</a>&nbsp;disproves the theory while further illustrating the badassery of Race Bannon:</p>\r\n<blockquote>\r\n<p><em>Two scenes stood out in the series and would never make it onto any kind of children\'s programming today, or in the future.&nbsp; The first was when CIA agent and Dr. Quest protector Race Bannon is in Hong Kong to meet a contact to pump them for some information.&nbsp; The contact is a hot Chinese babe who invites him back to her private boat to discuss the info he needs.&nbsp; Cut to the Jonny/Hadji/Bandit storyline for a scene.&nbsp; Cut to the Dr. Quest for a moment.&nbsp; Go to commercial.&nbsp; When we come back, Race\'s \"informant\" is standing near him wearing a robe while he is sitting on the corner of her bed putting his boots on.&nbsp; He thanks her for the information and leaves.&nbsp; Even at a young age I knew that Race had just \"pumped\" her for all the info he needed to get the job done.&nbsp; Jonny couldn\'t have a better role model and neither could I.</em></p>\r\n</blockquote>\r\n<p>That\'s fucking awesome.&nbsp; Race is the fucking man.&nbsp; Even his name is badass.&nbsp; You don\'t see too many guys named \"Race\" anymore.&nbsp; That\'s a fucking name you can set your watch to.&nbsp; Well Race travels around the world having all sorts of crazy adventures and bailing out the Quest family whenever they get in over their heads.&nbsp; He\'s fought everything from pirates to mad scientists to sea monsters to Nazis... you name it and he\'s probably punched it so hard that it\'s teeth came out it\'s urethra.&nbsp; He doesn\'t even give a shit.&nbsp; You throw Race Bannon in a room full of two-legged air-breathing bloodthirsty mutant piranhas armed only with a broken-off table leg and he\'ll spend the next half hour building a four foot high pyramid of bludgeoned fish carcassas.&nbsp; He\'s an unstoppable killing machine.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-racebannon3.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />Race fights a pack of goddamn dinosaurs with a torch while everyone else stands around being useless.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>He also has the sorts of adventures that would make James Bond crap his pants.&nbsp; The nature of Dr. Quest\'s crazy inexplicable science work takes him to the edges of civilization, deep into uncharted territory, and to all manner of hostile environments.&nbsp; Through it all, Race is ready and able to take on whatever challenges come up, to pilot anything that moves, to get it on with hot babes and to serve up a nice warm knuckle sandwich to anything that\'s capable of feeling pain.&nbsp; He\'s the brawn to Dr. Quest\'s brains, and the sort of manly man that all kids want to be when they grow up.&nbsp; He\'s awesome.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/badass-racebannon.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />Race Bannon sized up perfectly in one picture.<br /><br /><span>Note:&nbsp; All the pictures from this update came from&nbsp;<a href=\"http://www.classicjq.com/\" target=\"blank\">classicjq.com</a>.</span></p>\r\n<div><span><br /></span></div>','2006-08-25','38451254197','badass-racebannon2_new1.jpg','badass-racebannon2_new - Copy.jpg','Race Bannon','Bold enough to bodyguard Johnny Quest.  Strong enough to pistol-whip bears to death.',''),('T&#543;ašú&#331;ke Witkó','1840','September 5, 1877','Pine Ridge, SD, USA','19th-century Amerindian Warrior','<p>The American government\'s policy and treatment towards the native peoples of our land is without a doubt one of the most shameful and regrettable aspects of our nation\'s heritage.&nbsp; In our desire to move West, the American government forcibly removed the indigenous populations from their cultural homelands, shepherding them into designated reservations and opening all the rich farmlands up to Western settlement.&nbsp; Without any hesitation, we uprooted a people who had lived in the same land for several generations by either trading them vast tracts of land in exchange for useless trinkets or using our vastly superior military technology to slaughter all those who dared to stand up against our conquest.</p>\r\n<p>Well despite being beaten down, relocated countless times, out-manned, out-gunned and out-supplied, there was one Native American warrior who was badass enough to break out the warpaint, unite the tribes and bust some honkey heads.</p>\r\n<p>Crazy Horse was born into a Latoka Sioux tribe, and established himself as a badass brave at an early age.&nbsp; He went on a raiding party and stole horses from a rival Crow Indian tribe at age 13, let his first war party at 18, and eventually grew to become the war leader of his entire tribe.&nbsp; He was so awesome and desireable that his friend\'s wife divorced him and married Crazy Horse.&nbsp; The dude got super pissed and shot Crazy Horse in the face, but this only served to give him a wicked-looking facial scar (which incidentally is a true must for many badasses;&nbsp; the story behind it only makes it that much more awesome).&nbsp; His people respected his fighting abilities and honored him as a hero for the indomitable spirit and battle prowess he had displayed in skirmishes against the other plains tribes.</p>\r\n<p>Well around this time the white man was starting to fuck with the Native Americans big-time.&nbsp; The Sioux had up until now allowed white pioneers to freely travel through the Oregon Trail (which ran through Sioux lands), and were working on living in relative peace with the Americans.&nbsp; Then one day some jackass Army Lieutenant showed up at Crazy Horse\'s home, saying that the Sioux had killed a cow that belonged to a white pioneer and that someone was going to have to go to jail.&nbsp; Crazy Horse\'s chief, Conquering Bear, tried to negotiate with the Lieutenant, and for his troubles Conquering Bear received a fatal gunshot wound in the back.&nbsp; Having witnessed the treachery and intolerance of the Federal soldiers first-hand, Crazy Horse decided to stand up for his people and defend his homeland against these dangerous invaders.</p>\r\n<p>Crazy Horse participated in the assault on Fort Kearny in 1866, dubbed the \"Federman Massacre\", when he attacked the base camp of Colonel William Federman, a particularly anti-Indian army office who made threats that he would ride his cavalry \"through the entire Sioux Nation\".&nbsp; The pre-emptive strike on this Fort resulted in the near-complete annihilation of Federman\'s troops and at the time was the biggest defeat the US Army had ever received at the hands of the Indians.</p>\r\n<p>But that superlative wouldn\'t last long.</p>\r\n<p>Nine years later, the Army received word that the Northern Cheyenne and Crazy Horse\'s Lakota Sioux were not staying on their designated reservations and were instead wandering the countryside like Johnny Appleseed.&nbsp; The Army decided they needed to deal with this insubordination, so they send out three jerkweed Army groups to go around burning Indian villages to the ground for no reason and then relocating any survivors back to the tiny scrap of land they had designated for the Sioux.&nbsp; Well this shit didn\'t fly with Crazy Horse.&nbsp; He decided it was time to take out a six-pack of Whup-Ass and teach these goons a lesson.</p>\r\n<p>Crazy Horse\'s warriors met up with a force led by General George Crook at the Battle of the Rosebud in 1876.&nbsp; Crook fought the Sioux to a draw, but the battle successfully delayed Crook\'s troops from linking up with a second force that was already pushing it\'s way into Sioux lands;&nbsp; the United States 7th Cavalry, led by General George Armstrong Custer.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/crazyhorse-custer.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span>(Note:&nbsp; Apologies to my friend Chris for this article;&nbsp; He\'s a direct descendant of Custer\'s)</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\">&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>On 25 June 1876 General Custer\'s men approached what appeared to be a large encampment of Sioux warriors.&nbsp; In the face of the enemy, Custer divided his 7th Cavalry into three separate detachments;&nbsp; one group was to provoke the Sioux into a fight and draw them out, the second group was to cut off their escape route and the third group, personally led by Custer himself, was to sweep in from the flank and completely crush the Sioux forces.</p>\r\n<p>The first group attacked the Sioux encampment in an effort to draw them out, but they quickly realized that they were in over their heads when Crazy Horse and about two thousand screaming Sioux warriors starting charging them on horseback with bows, knives and Winchester repeating pound-you-in-the-ass rifles.&nbsp; The unit\'s commander, Major Marcus Reno, quickly realized he was about to be in the getting-fucked-up-by-Indians business and decided to run like a bitch and take up a fortified defensive position on a nearby ridge.&nbsp; The majority of the Sioux warriors did not pursue him.</p>\r\n<p>Right about this time, Custer\'s group decided to launch their flanking assault on the Sioux positions.&nbsp; When they rode around the ridge expecting to see an Indian force doing battle with Major Reno\'s men, they were a little bit surprised to find that the two thousand warriors who had just gotten done beating the shit out of Reno were now heading towards their position.&nbsp; Custer and his men tried to ford the Little Bighorn river and make their way into the Sioux camp, but their attempts were unsuccessful and Custer quickly found himself bearing the brunt of a fierce counter-attack.&nbsp; While his men attempted to fortify their position, Crazy Horse and his warriors circled around and completely enveloped what was left of the 7th Cavalry.&nbsp; Surrounded and assaulted on all sides, Custer made his last stand.&nbsp; His unit was slaughtered to the man.</p>\r\n<p>The Black Hills Wars would continue, and Crazy Horse would lead his braves into battle on several occasions after the Battle of Little Bighorn.&nbsp; Over time attrition, cold, disease and famine overtook Crazy Horse\'s warriors, forcing him to eventually negotiate a peace treaty and return his people to their reservation.&nbsp; He would be the last of his tribe to surrender.&nbsp; He held out as long as he could and fought for his people.&nbsp; At the height of his insurrection no Native American force was more successful in battling the American Army, and the two most devastating defeats the US forces would suffer in the Indian Wars came by his hand.&nbsp; Nothing the Native forces did in battle could compare to the defeat of Custer\'s army;&nbsp; 242 men and 16 officers were killed that day.&nbsp; In a span of mere hours, an entire detachment of professional cavalrymen was utterly annihilated.</p>\r\n<p>Well I guess that\'s not entirely true... there was one survivor from this royal ass-whipping:</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/crazyhorse-commanche.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br />Commanche the horse.</p>\r\n<p><br /><br /></p>\r\n<p>Links:</p>\r\n<p><a href=\"http://www.eyewitnesstohistory.com/custer.htm\" target=\"blank\">The Battle of Little Bighorn, 1876</a>&nbsp;<br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.pbs.org/weta/thewest/people/a_c/crazyhorse.htm\" target=\"blank\">Crazy Horse</a>&nbsp;<br /><br /><a href=\"http://www.indians.org/welker/crazyhor.htm\" target=\"blank\">Tashunkewitko, Ogala</a></p>','2006-08-18','89104644249','crazyhorse-bighorn_new.jpg','crazyhorse-new copy.jpg','Crazy Horse','Fought bravely in the Battle of Little Big Horn for the land rights of his people.','\"A very great vision is needed and the man who has it must follow it as the eagle seeks the deepest blue of the sky.  I was hostile to the white man... we preferred hunting to a life of idleness on our reservations.  At times we did not get enough to eat and we were not allowed to hunt.  All we wanted was peace and to be left alone.  Soldiers came and destroyed our villages.  Then Long Hair (Custer) came... they say we massacred him, but he would have done the same to us.  Our first impulse was to escape but we were so hemmed in we had to fight.\"\r\n\r\n- Crazy Horse'),('Tareg Gazel','1992','N/A','Tripoli, Libya','Modern Libyan Guerilla','<p>Tareg Gazel is a half-Irish, half-Libyan teenager with absolutely no military training who hunts snipers with a hunting rifle on the war-torn streets of his hometown.</p>\r\n<p>Back before the Libyan revolution broke out earlier this year and turned his beloved homeland into a raging <em>Fallout</em>-style desert warzone, Tareg Gazel was just a regular 19-year-old kid who enjoying hanging out, watching skateboarding videos, and not having people shoot at him with high-caliber weaponry non-stop every single day.&nbsp; Describing his pre-war occupation as \"just chilling\'\", Gazel\'s life changed pretty dramatically back in February, when the citizens of his native land suddenly decided they were sick of having their civil liberties ass-humped up and down the Mediterranean by the autocratic dictator Muammar Gaddafi.&nbsp; When the Arab Spring revolts successfully topped tyrannical regimes in Tunisia and Egypt with bloodless populist revolutions, the good people of Libya finally saw a golden chance to finally free themselves from the yoke of oppression &ndash; and young Tareg Gazel and his family were some of the first people out there waving flags in the streets, calling for a peaceful transition of power, and demanding the resignation of Gaddafi.</p>\r\n<p>But this wasn\'t Egypt or Tunisia, and Libyan presidente-por-vida Muammar Gaddafi didn\'t become the world\'s second-longest-running world (besides Castro, assuming the Cubans aren\'t <em>Weekend at Bernie\'s</em>-ing that guy around the island) by not knowing how to put down a revolution or two.&nbsp; So while the people may have wanted a peaceful change in power brought about through popular demand, and some other North African countries were willing to hand over the keys to Parliament without so much as asking the rebel leader to armwrestle for it, Gaddafi was more of a \"you\'ll pry the <a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amazonian_Guard\">Amazonian Guardswomen</a> from my cold dead hands\" kind of motherfucker.&nbsp; This bastard was a hardcore tyrant, and when shit started getting unruly in his fiefdom he didn\'t really have a problem preserving his 40+ year rule by sending his government-sanctioned goon squad to kick the shit out of dissidents, or ordering Libyan Air Force attack jets to strafe the peaceful demonstrations with a few racks of high-explosive clusterfuck bombs.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/gazel1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span> Oh, my God, they found me, I don\'t know how, but they found me.</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>It was in the midst of this spontaneous Civil-War-Out-of-Nowhere that shit started getting real for Tareg Gazel pretty fucking quickly.&nbsp; This kid came from a family that didn\'t want to just bend over and take it anymore, and, as a result of their disobedience to the ruling regime, they drew the attention of Gaddafi\'s personal douchebag armada pretty early on in the conflict.&nbsp; For starters, Tareg\'s beloved uncle was capped by a sniper while leaving his morning prayers at the Mosque, bleeding to death in the middle of the street because he had spoken out in favor of the revolution.&nbsp; After that, Gaddafi\'s forces imprisoned most of his family as dissidents just for good measure, and Tareg knew all too well that all his loved ones could probably look forward to were a couple weeks of torture followed by summary execution without trial.</p>\r\n<p>He wasn\'t going to let that happen.&nbsp; He knew the time for peaceful revolution had ended.&nbsp; Now it was time for vengeance. Steven Segal style.</p>\r\n<p>Without hesitation, the 19 year-old kid in a backwards baseball cap and a \"Just Do It\" t-shirt grabbed his hunting rifle, took to the streets with grim determination, and decided he was going to declare a one-man war of vengeance against every motherfucking sniper in Gaddafi\'s army &ndash; presumably because if he caused all of those fools to cough up their nuts with a side order of 7.62mm ammunition he\'d eventually hit the guy who\'d offed his uncle.&nbsp; That personal vendetta may never be definitively/satisfactorily concluded, but what we do know for sure is that after six months of hardcore back-alley sniper-to-sniper street warfare, this gunslinging teenager now commands a team of eight counter-sniper specialist operatives in an ongoing battle taking place on the very streets where he grew up.&nbsp; So we can only imagine that he\'s pretty good at this shit.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/gazel2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span>I know I\'m probably going to hell for using this pic here,<br />but when I found it on an image search I knew it had to be done.</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>But I should point out that Tareg Gazel isn\'t just some crazy whack-ass beltway sniper lunatic sitting in a clock tower picking off douchebags he thinks might be associated with Gaddafi-ism.&nbsp; This dude is a dedicated hardass who has trained himself and dedicated himself specifically in counter-sniper activities &ndash; a method of service that I probably don\'t have to tell you is easily one of the most dangerous missions any sniper, professional or otherwise, can undertake.&nbsp; Basically his team\'s job is to sit around a secret base cleaning their weapons, and then when some reports come through on his radio that there\'s a completely concealed mercenary sniper headshotting civilians or pinning down rebel militia units, Tareg Gazel and his buddies haul ass to the middle of the goddamned sniper-infested battlefield and willingly putting themselves in the killzone so that they can try to cap the hidden assassin before he can return the favor.</p>\r\n<p>This, of course, is complete insanity.</p>\r\n<p>Lying completely motionless for as long as eight hours at a time while waiting for a well-armed, well-trained Libyan Army soldier with a high-powered scoped sniper rifle to waltz into your crosshairs isn\'t any picnic, especially when you\'re carrying a fucking hand-me-down bolt-action rifle (I assume he has upgraded his gear during the course of the war, but how technologically advanced could his initial weapon have been?), but Tareg Gazel has made it work somehow.&nbsp; By his own admission, \"We\'re not SEALs or anything,\" but despite having zero professional training and going up against seasoned veteran soldiers, Gazel\'s motley gang has fought, survived, and won, sometimes claiming as many as 4 enemy snipers killed in a single night of operations (which, obviously, is a lot of kills for a counter-sniper).</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/gazel3.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Sure, patience, accuracy, and boom headshots are the primary prerequisites for sniper success, but winning a life-or-death game of wits and nerves also requires a little bit of cleverness and ingenuity as well.&nbsp; And Gazel\'s crew has it.&nbsp; Like, for instance, one of this guy\'s strategies is to tie a flashlight to a dog and send the pooch running around the streets of the city barking its ass off.&nbsp; Crouching motionless from their sniper perch, Gazel and his men carefully look for a laser sight dot to appear on the dog, then try extrapolate the sniper\'s position based on the angle of the dot so they can locate their target.&nbsp; When that becomes boring/routine/not insane enough, Gazel and his team sometimes just go outside run across the fucking street themselves, acting as human bait to DRAW THE FIRE OF AN ELITE SNIPER so that another team member can pop the bad guy when he shows himself.</p>\r\n<p>Balls of steel, dude.</p>\r\n<p>But hey, it works somehow.&nbsp; This guy is so hardcore that not only has he survived to tell the tale and racked up an impressive kill count, but he\'s also used his tactics to corner the enemy sniper and capture him alive rather than killing them &ndash; putting himself in such an advantageous position that his hard-as-nails enemies don\'t even want to try to fight back.&nbsp; He keeps these guys in a homemade bunker he\'s created, and even though Gazel is basically just some dude with a gun and not anything remotely resembling a professional soldier, he takes care to ensure that all of his prisoners are treated according to the POW regulations laid out by the Geneva Convention.&nbsp; Not only is that awesome in a \"hey dude you\'re totally chill\" way, but it\'s especially tolerant considering that Tareg Gazel knows damn well he could hope for no such courtesy if he ever found himself imprisoned by pro-Gaddafi forces.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/gazel5.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span>This isn\'t sniper-related, but it is pretty badass.</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>The quality of his POWs gives some insight into what Gazel and his homedogs are dealing with here.&nbsp; Naturally some of the folks he\'s captured are Libyan Regular Army, sure, but since Gaddafi is having a lot of trouble finding support among his own people, the dictator (more like dick-tator, am I right here folks HAR HAR HAR) has been importing hundreds of hardcore battle-hardened mercenaries &ndash; tough-as-fuck warriors who had seen combat in Iraq, Serbia, and other global conflicts, yet somehow they find themselves bested by a 19 year-old kid who knows these streets like the back of his hand.</p>\r\n<p>One particularly badass-sounding POW was a Nigerian woman who was, according to Gazel, \"bloody brilliant\".&nbsp; I wish I had a little more info on her to get into more detail there, since she sounds pretty badass herself, but unfortunately I wasn\'t able to track anything down.</p>\r\n<p>And, for the record, I should also mention that I wasn\'t able to find a whole shitload of info about Tareg Gazel, either.&nbsp; As is the nature of current events, there really isn\'t much info out there on this kid.&nbsp; Hell, there\'s really only one news story on him, and it\'s just getting passed around the different news media outlets.&nbsp; This usually makes me a little nervous, but considering that most of the people who find Tareg Gazel end up with a high-powered rifle bullet in their brain I can kind of cut the international media a little slack for not being able to track this kid down.&nbsp; Fuck, even if it turns out that that this sniper-capping maniac is just some fictional construct cooked up in a drug-induced stupor by some delusional Reuters reporter without any concept of journalistic integrity, it\'s still a pretty badass story.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/gazel6.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span>I have no idea what\'s going on with this photo, but I kind of love this guy in a very non-sexual way.</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links/Sources:</span><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://mg.co.za/article/2011-08-20-the-irish-teen-who-tracks-and-kills-gaddafis-snipers\" target=\"blank\">Mail &amp; Guardian</a><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://www.jordantimes.com/?news=40600\" target=\"blank\">Jordan Times</a></p>','2011-09-16','601873532544','gazel.jpg','gazel2.jpg','Tareg Gazel','A 19 year-old kid who fights snipers in Libya.',''),('Tyrannosaurus Rex','67,000,000 BC','65,500,000 BC','North America','Prehistoric Dinosaur Monster','<p>Even though haters gotta hate and he\'s been much-maligned and increasingly-wussified in recent years, the goddamned Tyrannosaurus Rex is still pretty the most universally-recognized badass carnivorous dinosaur-eating giant reptile that ever crushed the earth beneath its giant, taloned, chicken-like feet.&nbsp; Sure, plenty of eccentric dino-philes have their own weirdo cult favorite extinct carnivorous lizards &ndash; maybe Spinosaur was bigger and had that funky-ass sailboat sail, and maybe Utahraptor was more cunning and had better ups, but it\'s still tough to argue with the hardcore badass cred of T-Rex.&nbsp; Any time you\'re talking about giant lizards that kick serious ass and demolish their puny enemies in a waterfall spray of dino blood and bone dust, the King of the Lizards has to get his props.&nbsp; It\'s kind of the Cretaceous Era version of how even if you like the Wu-Tang Clan better than N.W.A., you\'re still not going to go out and call Dr. Dre a pussy &ndash; because he\'s O.G. and you gotta respect that.</p>\r\n<p>Aside from just being a gigantic, towering bipedal monstrosity equipped with an oversized fang-filled head capable of ripping an armor-plated thorax in half without a second thought, this rampaging mega eating machine was so over-the-top out-of-control hardcore that the only way the Universe could slow him down was by dropping a 10-mile-wide asteroid on Earth and detonating the entire planet in a mass extinction event that fell somewhere between thermonuclear holocaust and the Star Wars prequel trilogy on the horrific global disaster scale.&nbsp; Known simply by a pair of badass Latin words meaning \"Tyrant Lizard King\", this unfeeling mountain of muscle and teeth was one of the largest land-based carnivores the world has ever seen &ndash; not to mention a pop culture staple that has fought in life-or-death duels against everyone from Batman to King Kong and, regardless of the film, almost universally symbolizes the pure embodiment of toothy-mawed evil incarnate any time it\'s terrifying visage appears on the screen.</p>\r\n<p>So you can imagine my surprise when I was going through a Google Image Search for badass T-Rex pics and saw this:</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/trex1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span>WTF</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>This sad, dopey, pathetic little crapburger of a creature is some freedom-hating artists\' rendition of what some jackass rogue paleontologists have recently decided to pass off as a juvenile Tyrannosaurus Rex.&nbsp; This fucking tragedy against nature and borderline-crime-against-humanity is absolutely nothing like the raging car-devouring megabeast that menaced Jeff Goldblum and Newman from <em>Seinfeld</em> in <em>Jurassic Park</em>, and the fact that this bullshit feathery abomination even exists in a hypothetical illustrated form kind of makes me want to amputate my own balls with a set of stainless steel barbecue tongs and declare the official death of World Badassitude.&nbsp; Seriously, you\'d need two of these little fluffball asshats to just make a damned <a href=\"http://www.kfc.com/doubledown/\">Double Down</a> sandwich for a serious T-Rex, and that idiotic \"hay guys wut up\" look on his face makes me want to clench my fists until my eyes explode out of my head on a river of blood while sobbing uncontrollably like a little bitch.</p>\r\n<p>I mean, what the fuck, people?&nbsp; First Pluto, then Brontosaurus, then Triceratops, and now <a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/trex10.gif\">this insanity</a>.&nbsp; And scientists wonder why people don\'t like science anymore.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/trex6.gif\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span>That\'s more like it.&nbsp; FUCK YEAH DINOS</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>While I\'m wildly hyperbolizing out on the subject of the Chickensaurus Rex, I guess I\'d also like to point out that the important thing to understand about the study of paleontology is that until we see a friggin\' Stegosaurus running around in the wild nobody\'s really going to ever know shit about dinosaurs for certain.&nbsp; This is totally understandable, considering that we really have no frame of reference for what these giant lizard/bird creatures were actually like in real life &ndash; luckily for use there aren\'t any gigantic man-eating dinos running around shopping mall parking lots woofing people down like meat-flavored cupcakes, and there aren\'t any modern-day analogues to the aforementioned Meatacupcakeasaurus, so unless someone pulls some real life Jurassic Park shit all we really have to go on for biological analysis is a few thousand bones that fossilized into rock about 65 million years ago.&nbsp; Since there really isn\'t any way to be proven wrong, most paleontologists these days spend their time making fun of other paleontologists and their stupid traditionalist ideas, and then coming up with radical, even-stupider new ideas that piss everyone off.&nbsp; It\'s kind of like how in the late-90s classic cinematic masterpiece <em>Twister</em> you had the Weathermen and the Evil Weathermen and they were fighting against each other over who thought tornadoes were the most awesome things ever, only it\'s with 20-foot-tall carnivorous dinosaurs and not really like that at all.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/trex9.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span>This T-Rex is so awesome it barfs out <a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/wolverine.html\">Wolverines</a>.</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>The King of the Tyrant Lizards was first discovered in Hell Creek, Montana, in 1902 by a Kansan named Barnum Brown, and it\'s been populating the blood-soaked, mass-human-carnage imaginations of 8-year-old boys ever since.&nbsp; T. rex (the official scientific version of it isn\'t capitalized or hyphenated, because science is serious business and there isn\'t room for capitalization or exclamation points) is believed to have lived 65 to 85 million years ago, making it super fucking old, and while there have been some Tyrannosaur variants found in Africa, Asia, and South America (and back in the 80s some Soviet dude discovered a Commie-saurus in Mongolia), for the most part these beasts were stomping their way through the forests and swamps of North America, banging gongs, getting it on, and devouring the indigenous dinosaur species of the U.S. and Canada one obscenely-sized face-chomp at a time.</p>\r\n<p>From what we can tell (which, as I\'ve mentioned, isn\'t that much), T-Rex stood about 15-20 feet tall and was 40 feet long from head to tail &ndash; making it roughly two stories high and the same length of one of those gigantic steel overseas shipping containers.&nbsp; It probably weighed around six tons, and its super-strong legs were capable of propelling it somewhere between 15 and 45 miles an hour, depending on whether it lumbered around like a roided-out <a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/godzilla.html\">Godzilla</a> or hauled ass like a pissed-off Ostrich (only less hilarious and more terrifying).&nbsp; Tyrannosaurus had a super-developed sense of smell, small forward-facing eyes that presumably gave it great straight-ahead vision, and a 4-foot long jaw lined with teeth that measured from 6 to 12 inches long.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/trex2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span>Yeah, tell me about it.</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Naturally, there\'s some debate among paleontologists and evolutionary biologists as to whether T-Rex was a mega apex predator &ndash; the top Alpha Dog of all dinosaurs &ndash; or if it was just some weasely hyena-like scavenger that walked around eating corpses.&nbsp; I have no real in-depth knowledge of animal taxonomy, but looking at this horrible image above I\'m going to have to lean towards MEGA FUCKING PREDATOR rather than anything else.&nbsp; People like to point to its puny little forearms to reinforce the scavenger theory, but let\'s face it, folks &ndash; even though some scientists estimate that those dinky taloned appendages could lift 450 pounds (meaning it could bench you), this fucking thing wasn\'t designed going to face-punch rival dinosaurs to death.&nbsp; This was a homocidal insane-o eating machine, and its primary function is simply to chomp its teeth down until your head pops off like a grape and all that\'s left was your headless bloody torso shooting arterial blood spray into the stratosphere.&nbsp; Even if its arms were totally useless and eventually devolved over the last couple millennia into delicious buffalo wings, there are a lot of other ultra-deadly predators out there that don\'t need their arms to kick the living crapballs out of you 4 realz.&nbsp; Gators, eagles, tigers, sharks, and other carnivorous asskicking beasts are perfectly happy to kill you with their face-parts and not screw around with the whole fisticuffs nonsense.</p>\r\n<p>And honestly, why the hell would the largest carnivore on earth eat dead bodies?&nbsp; I mean, when you look at this thing, you don\'t see some scavenging vulture.&nbsp; You see yourself as a delicious mobile meatburger on the run from one of the world\'s most ferocious and badass creatures ever.&nbsp; It triggers an immediate fight-or-flight response, which as far as I can tell comes from an instinctual urge to escape a predator.&nbsp; Like I said, I\'m just some dipshit with a website and not a biologist or anything, but that\'s just how I see it.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/trex11.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Judging from bite marks both on dinosaur bones as well as other Tyrannosauruses (Tyrannosaurii?), scientists estimate that the T-Rex could bite with 3,300 pounds of force &ndash; harder than any other land animal measured to date (including your mom), and more than enough force to crush right through even the thick armor of that stupid-looking Ankylosaur tank dinosaur thing. For comparison, humans bite with about 175 pounds of force, and Bengal Tigers average about 1,000. This thing chews its prey up by crushing it with the weight of an entire NFL team repeatedly until its brains squirt out its ass and all that remains is a hunk of meaty fluid roughly the same consistency as a homemade fruit smoothie.&nbsp; Also, according to the National Geographic link below, its 4-foot jaw was \"designed for maximum bone-crunching action\" which is a phrase that pumped me up so hard when I read it that I almost got a boner.</p>\r\n<p>As if having a row of 12-inch serrated spikes (awesomely described by a Berkeley professor as being \"like lethal bananas\") driven into your body with the force of a high-speed car accident isn\'t enough, the T-Rex also had terrible oral hygiene, and its mouth was riddled with so much disease and bacterial contagion that one bite could send its prey into septic shock immediately (you know, if having every bone in its body simultaneously cracked in half didn\'t kill it).&nbsp; This is pretty revolting/awesome, and as a method of death distribution it gets bonus points for being humiliating and disgusting as well as painful and gore-tastic.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/trex7.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span>T-Rex kicking the shit out of some fool old-school beatdown-style.</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Oh, and I also read a couple things saying that one chomp of the T-Rex\'s mouth was big enough to bite through 500 pounds of meat in one fell swoop.&nbsp; That\'s like the maximum amount of meat you can carry after gunning down buffalo in the <em>Oregon Trail</em>.</p>\r\n<p>If I\'m just super old and you\'ve never played/heard of the <em>Oregon Trail</em>, here\'s a visual depiction of what 500 pounds of meat looks like:</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/trex-meat.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span>Mullet not shown to scale.</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Hell yeah.&nbsp; Just remember never to invite a T-Rex to a barbecue.</p>\r\n<p>And now, as I tend to do when things are so unspeakably awesome I can\'t put them into printed text, here\'s a series of photos that illustrate badassitude that could never be replicated with words.&nbsp; BEHOLD THE POWER OF TYRANNOSAURUS REX!</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/trex4d.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/trex4e.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/trex4f.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span>MOAR LIKE VELOCI-CRAPTOR LOL</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/trex4b.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span>Of course this display is in Spain.</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/trex4c.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/trex4h.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/trex4l.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/trex4k.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span>Are my brother and me the only people who remember this show?</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/trex5.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span>Awesome.</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://dinosaurs.about.com/od/dinosaurbasics/a/trexfacts.htm\">About.com</a><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://animals.nationalgeographic.com/animals/prehistoric/tyrannosaurus-rex/\">National Geographic</a><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://www.ucmp.berkeley.edu/diapsids/saurischia/tyrannosauridae.html\">University of Berkeley</a><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://www.enchantedlearning.com/subjects/dinosaurs/dinos/Trex.shtml\">Awesome T-Rex Page</a><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tyrannosaurus\">Wikipedia</a></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Sources:</span><br /><br /><span> Currie, Philip J.&nbsp; <em>Encyclopedia of Dinosaurs</em>.&nbsp; Academic Press, 1997.<br /><br /> Holtz, Thomas R.&nbsp; <em>Dinosarus</em>.&nbsp; Random House, 2007. </span></p>','2011-09-23','655968832614','trex.jpg','trex9.jpg','Tyrannosaurus Rex','A giant carnivorous dinosaur.',''),('Joseph Medicine Crow','October 27, 1913','N/A','Lodge Grass, MT, USA','WWII Amerindian Soldier','<p>\"War Chief of the Crow Indians\" isn\'t a title that\'s just randomly thrown around to any jackass who happens to own a gigantic, awesome-looking headdress and a really bitchin\' traditional-style wooden bow made out of the bark of dead Treants. You don\'t become a War Chief just because you\'re the oldest dude in the tribe, or the most badass hunter, or the only guy in your zip code capable of bench-pressing an automobile. It\'s an ancient, prestigious honorific bestowed only upon the bravest, the strongest, and the most hardcore asskickers around, and the only way to attain this hallowed title is by proving yourself in combat and unlocking the four achievements the Crow believed to be the most insanely-difficult things a warrior can attempt in battle &ndash; leading a successful war party on a raid, capturing an enemy\'s weapon, touching an enemy without killing him, and stealing an enemy\'s horse. None of this shit is easy, and pretty much all of it requires you put your life on the line by voluntarily bringing yourself face-to-face with at least one warrior who is presumably in the process of actively trying to rip you limb from limb with a bowie knife and then splatter your corpse across the countryside with a well-placed headbutt. It\'s like the Crow Indians\' way of making sure they don\'t have any suckass weaklings leading their tribe into combat.</p>\r\n<p>At 98 years old, Joseph Medicine Crow-High Bird is the last surviving War Chief of the Crow Indians. He is a hardcore, fearless, neck-snapping warrior who has accomplished all of these tremendous feats of bravery in combat and has proven himself a step above the majority of humanity on the badassitude scale.</p>\r\n<p>And he did it in World War II.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/medicinecrow1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Joe Medicine Crow was born on a reservation near Lodge Grass, Montana in 1913. Raised in the illustrious warrior tradition of the Crow, this dude had some pretty hardcore badasses to look up to as a young man &ndash; his step-grandfather had been a scout for Custer at the infamous Battle of Little Bighorn (the Crow had a generations-long blood feud with the Lakota Sioux), and his paternal grandfather was a dude named Chief Medicine Crow who was like the Michael Jordan of Crow war heroes. So, naturally young Joseph was drilled into a tough-as-fuck warrior capable of handling himself in any situation. The majority of this young warrior\'s childhood was spent undergoing hardcore Spartan-style feats of strength, piledriving buffalo, riding horses bareback, swimming through mighty rivers, punching things, and running barefoot through snow-covered plains uphill both ways. He was taught to control his fear in the face of imminent peril, learned to hunt dangerous animals by himself, and trained his body to survive prolonged exposure to extreme temperatures. He was also taught the war history of his tribe, and in addition to honing his body to the ultimate wilderness survival machine he also became the first member of his tribe to graduate with an advanced college degree, receiving his MA in Anthropology from USC in 1939.</p>\r\n<p>Medicine Crow was in the process of working on his PhD when the United States entered World War II. Never one to back down from the opportunity to put his powers of mass destruction to good use, Crow enlisted as a scout in the 103rd Infantry and was sent to the beaches of Normandy to wreak havoc on the forces of European Fascism. Despite serving in a war dominated by automatic weapons, heavy artillery, and gigantic fucking tanks armed with 88mm cannons, Medicine Crow held on to the time-honored practices of his tribe &ndash; he always wore bright red war paint into combat, and he strapped a sacred yellow-painted eagle feather to his helmet for good luck.</p>\r\n<p>He also counted the four coups required to distinguish himself as a Crow war chief, which is no small fucking task when one of those tasks involves stealing a horse from the enemy.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/medicinecrow2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /> <span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">1.&nbsp; Lead a Victorious War Party</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>As an infantry scout, you probably don\'t get too many opportunities to lead a group of men into combat, but Pvt. Medicine Crow got the opportunity to do just that in snow-covered battlefields of Western France while the Allies made their push from Paris towards Berlin.</p>\r\n<p>The border to German was a heavily-fortified wall of impenetrable machine gun bunkers, tank traps, trenches, moats and artillery positions known as the Siegfried Line, which was basically like a functional, not-worthless version of France\'s Maginot Line. Well, during one particularly nasty portion of the battle for the Rhine, Medicine Crow\'s commanding officer ordered the Native American warrior to take a team of seven soldiers and lead them across an field of barbed wire, bullets, and artillery fire, grab some dynamite from an American position that had been utterly annihilated, and then assault the German bunkers and blow the fucking ass out of them with TNT. This was basically a suicide mission, but, according to Medicine Crow, when he got the mission his CO\'s exact words were, \"if anyone can do this, it\'s probably you.\"</p>\r\n<p>That\'s not exactly a phrase that inspires tremendous confidence, but Joe Medicine Crow didn\'t give a shit. He charged out, evaded an endless rain of fireballs, shrapnel, and misery, grabbed the TNT from a supply crate while tracer rounds zipped past his head, and then charged balls-out towards some German machine gun nests while carrying an armload of ultra-high explosives. He somehow reached the wall in one piece and blasted a hole in the Siegfried Line so the infantry could advance. Medicine Crow received a Bronze Star for this action, and his squad did not lose a single man in the battle. I\'d call that a win.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/medicinecrow3.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /> <span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">2.&nbsp; Take an Enemy\'s Weapon from Him</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Shortly after moving through the Siegfried Line (I read in one source that Joe was photographed leading the charge and leaping through the breach he\'d created in the wall, thus making him the first American soldier to set foot on German soil, though I wasn\'t able to verify this fact or locate the photo), the 103rd was ordered to capture a nearby town that was being staunchly defended by the enemy.</p>\r\n<p>While the main elements of the 103rd moved into the well-defended main street of the village, Joe Medicine Crow\'s scouts were ordered to flank around through a back alley and get behind the German fortifications. Well, as this shit was going down, Medicine Crow got separated from his unit, and while he was in the process of sprinting through some German family\'s backyard a random Nazi jackass stepped out from behind the wall with his rifle at the ready.</p>\r\n<p>Joe didn\'t see this dude until the last second, and ended up running right the fuck into the guy like the Juggernaut from the X-Men.</p>\r\n<p>The two guys smashed helmet-to-helmet in a maneuver that would probably have netted Medicine Crow a 15-yard penalty in the NFL, and the force of the running mega Indian flying headbutt sent that Nazi jackass (and his rifle) sprawling across the lawn.</p>\r\n<p>Joseph Medicine Crow, however, still had his rifle firmly wedged in his kung fu grip.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/medicinecrow4.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /> <span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">3.&nbsp; Touch an Enemy without Killing Him</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Joseph Medicine Crow now found himself standing rifle-to-face with an unarmed German soldier, but gunning down an unarmed man wasn\'t this guy\'s style &ndash; he was much more of an \"honorable combat\" sort of badass, and he wasn\'t about to let this Nazi douchebag feel the sweet release of death without getting a nice red, white, and blue knuckle sandwich or two beforehand.</p>\r\n<p>So Joe Medicine Crow threw down his rifle and cold-cocked the motherfucker in the face Batman-style.</p>\r\n<p>The two guys started going at it, and at one point the Nazi almost flipped the tables and pinned Joe, but the Native American warrior freaked the fuck out, grabbed the German dude by the throat, and started squeezing. Just as he was ready to choke the life out of his enemy, the German, sensing imminent death, started calling out for his Mom.</p>\r\n<p>That kind of put the kibosh on Joseph\'s kill-boner. So he let the guy live, taking the German (and his rifle) as a prisoner of war and knocking out two War Chief prerequisites with one well-placed face-punch.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/medicinecrow5.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /> <span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">4.&nbsp; Steal an Enemy\'s Horse</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Of all the shit on this borderline-impossible list, this is the one that seems like it would trip up the most people these days. But, no shit, in early 1945 Joseph Medicine Crow stole 50 horses from a group of fucking German officers.</p>\r\n<p>The story starts with Joe and his men on a scouting mission deep behind enemy lines. While surveying the landscape for enemy troop movements, Medicine Crow\'s small team of recon experts just happened to come across a small farm where some senior members of the German officer staff were holed up &ndash; along with a group of awesome thoroughbred race horses.</p>\r\n<p>So, naturally, Joe had to steal them.</p>\r\n<p>In the early hours of the morning, Joseph Medicine Crow, dressed in his fucking U.S. Army uniform, snuck past the sleeping guards armed only with a rope and his Colt 1911 .45-caliber service pistol. He found the best horse in the group, tied the rope into a makeshift bridle, mounted the horse bareback, and then gave a super-fucking-loud Crow war cry as he tried to herd as many goddamned horses out of the corral as possible before the Nazis started firing bullets at him. Hauling ass through though the German countryside in the dead of night, Joseph Medicine Crow sang a Crow war song while German officers ran outside in their underwear taking potshots at him with their Lugers.</p>\r\n<p>This shit is so crazy you couldn\'t even make it up.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/medicinecrow6.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span>This is how *I* roll.</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>In the last days of the war, Joseph Medicine Crow helped liberate a concentration camp in Poland (he and his commanding officer drove a jeep through the front gates and the SS guards immediately dropped their shit and ran away without a fight) before finally heading home to his tribe in Montana. When the Crow elders heard about his through-the-roof Gamerscore they made Joe an official War Chief in the Tribe &ndash; a post he now holds by himself. He was also made a Knight in the French Legion of Honor, received three honorary PhDs, authored nearly a dozen books on military history, stayed married to the same woman for over 60 years, and has been the official historian for his tribe for the last fifty years. In August of 2009 he received the Presidential Medal of Freedom &ndash; the highest honor awarded to American civilians &ndash; for his combined military service and all the work he has done to help improve the lives of the people of the Crow people. The 95 year-old Medicine Crow personally led the ceremonial dance after the ceremony.</p>\r\n<p>Here\'s the clip about his life from Ken Burns\' <em>The War</em>:</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><iframe src=\"http://www.youtube.com/embed/O_9-arto8D8\" frameborder=\"0\" width=\"560\" height=\"315\"></iframe></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://billingsgazette.com/news/state-and-regional/montana/article_12ef6ce3-5fdc-5aff-9b87-d42156661417.html\">Billings Gazette</a><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://www.worldwisdom.com/public/authors/Joe-Medicine-Crow.aspx\">Joe Medicine Crow</a><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://www.tester.senate.gov/Newsroom/pr_071808_medicinecrow.cfm\">Crow Nominated for Congressional Gold Medal</a><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joe_Medicine_Crow\">Wikipedia</a></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Sources:</span><br /><br /><span> Nabokov, Peter.&nbsp; <em>Native American Testimony</em>.&nbsp; Penguin, 1999.<br /><br /> Robinson, Gary and Phil Lucas.&nbsp; <em>From Warriors to Soldiers</em>.&nbsp; iUniverse, 2010. </span></p>','2011-09-30','7193340809','medicinecrow.png','','Joe Medicine Crow','The last surviving War Chief of the Crow Tribe.',''),('Skuld','N/A','N/A','Denmark','Mythological Viking Supervillain','<p><span><em>Note:&nbsp; Ok guys, I seriously screwed something up today, and thanks to a bunch of emo crap that I don\'t really want to get in to right now, I am finding myself in very serious danger of not being able to get a story posted to the website this week.&nbsp; So, in order to make sure that I continue my streak where I have never missed a week since April of 2004, today I\'m running one of my favorite articles from my book <a href=\"http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0062001353?ie=UTF8&amp;tag=badofthewee-20&amp;linkCode=as2&amp;camp=1789&amp;creative=390957&amp;creativeASIN=0062001353\">Badass: Birth of a Legend</a> in place of your regularly-scheduled programming.&nbsp; I think you will dig it.&nbsp; The artwork above is the copyrighted creation of the amazing <a href=\"http://jamesryman.blogspot.com/\">James Ryman</a>.</em></span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Viking sagas are easily some of the most badass pieces of writing ever recorded. Produced by a bloodthirsty assortment of ridiculously violent warrior-poets who spent just as much time slinging spears as spinning tales, these merciless legends feature heroic quests, magical spells, endless battle, withering trash-talking, and fearsome monsters, with a lusty maiden busting out of her blouse every five pages thrown in just for good measure. By the time the story is through, you can be pretty damn sure that nearly every single character is heroically lying face down on top of a pile of corpses with a gaping slash wound prominently displayed on some vital portion of their bodies, and their blade lodged in the head of their most hated nemesis. These sagas are the blockbuster action movies and ultra-flaming guitar solos of medieval literature &ndash; and while the endless parade of proper nouns can make it a little difficult to read at times, it\'s really hard to argue with the badass cred of any short story in which a humorless ass-whomper avenges his murdered brother by using a battle axe the size of a Lexus to slaughter an entire city full of warriors.</p>\r\n<p>The Saga of Hrolf Kraki is no exception to this time-honored tradition of literary blood-bathing. The epic story of a couple generations of semi-legendary Danish Kings who asserted their dominance by plowing peoples\' skulls to bone dust with a bulldozer, Hrolf\'s saga is about as subtle and delicate as a game of beer pong played with live grenades. But while Hrolf himself is a hugely-powerful ass-wrecker, no one can assert a better claim to badassitude than his vengeful sister, the pitiless necromancer sorceress known as Skuld.</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/skuld1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Skuld\'s story begins with a Danish King named Helgi. One year, around Yule time, some rough-looking homeless chick knocked on Helgi\'s door in the middle of the night, begging for shelter from the rain and maybe a little bit of food. When Helgi found it in his heart to let her in, he was rewarded for his kindness by quickly realizing that underneath her tattered rags this beggar was actually a super-hot Elf babe. Being a typical Viking hero, Helgi celebrated by snatching her up and having his way with her. The next morning, after he was done ravishing this strange Elf woman he just met, she informed him that she was carrying his kid, and that he should stop by this boat house near his home in nine months to pick up his daughter. Helgi, being the sort of dude who probably fathered a lot of kids in his days pillaging and plundering every single European settlement that was accessible by Viking longship, of course completely forgot about this kid and went back to the business of burning people alive and dousing out the smoldering ashes with a steady stream of urine. But he wasn\'t going to get off the hook that easily this time &ndash; three years later, a group of Elves showed up in the middle of the night, dropped a young girl off on Helgi\'s doorstep, and placed a totally gnarly curse on the King and his family forever.</p>\r\n<p>That curse was Skuld.</p>\r\n<p>The sagas say that Skuld was, \"by evil norns ill created,\" and as such she grew up learning all the bastardly dark arts you might expect from a woman whose primary goal in life was to hone her magic to the point where she could obliterate entire civilizations just by thinking really mean things about people until their heads caught on fire. She went on to marry a mighty Swedish king named Hjorvarth, who was known for being super-strong, well-endowed, and not averse to women who could conjure apparitions through their knowledge of the dark arts, and together they ruled a vast kingdom of Gauts, which are like Swedish Goths. Helgi, meanwhile, inaugurated his newfound curse by accidentally marrying his own daughter, producing a son named Hrolf Kraki, and then dying in a fire.</p>\r\n<p>Skuld and Hrolf Kraki got along well enough, I suppose, but things started to take a turn for the worse one day when Hrolf tricked Skuld\'s husband Hjorvarth into accidentally becoming a vassal of Denmark. You see, Hrolf had given Hjorvarth a magical sword, and the Swedish ruler accepted the gift without realizing that taking a sword from the King was a symbolic Viking way of publically declaring that you were officially his bitch. Bound by bro honor, Hjorvarth had no choice but to accept Hrolf as his master and pay him a yearly tribute, even though this was total crap.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/skuld2.gif\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Hrolf Kraki went on to become super famous and powerful, kicking ass all over the world in his quest for plunder and glory and alcohol and amassing all of the greatest heroes in the land to serve as retainers and lords in his empire. This guy was so popular that he\'s even mentioned in Beowulf, a story that wasn\'t even written by Vikings. Skuld and Hjorvarth, meanwhile, looked off at Kraki and his champions living it up with games, mistresses, swimming pools, and diamond-encrusted toilet seats while they had to cough up tribute every year like chumps, and they quickly used deductive reasoning to come to the conclusion that this sucked their asses on fire. Skuld told her husband to sack up and tell Hrolf to shove that tribute up his vas deferens, but Hjorvarth apparently didn\'t have the balls to stand up to the Danish hero. So Skuld did it herself. She asked her half-brother for a three-year break in tribute-paying, as long as she agreed to pay the full amount at the end of the three year cycle. Hrolf didn\'t really give a crap, and basically just said, \"whatever\".</p>\r\n<p>Given a three-year break, Skuld took all the money she was supposed to give to Hrolf and instead went to work building a huge-ass army of Vikings, criminals, summoned monsters, Elves, norns, and other ridiculous monstrosities from the bowels of the underworld. She used her magic to conceal her actions from Hrolf, silently building up a mindless horde suitable for her purposes.</p>\r\n<p>Now, while Hrolf Kraki was pretty cool back his prime, by this point in his lifespan he was kind of a total d-bag. He and his men had grown fat, arrogant, and pretentious, and instead of questing and warring they spent their time throwing half-eaten chicken bones at innocent people, drinking themselves into oblivion, disrespecting the gods, and biting off the noses of prostitutes for some strange reason. These guys were so confident in their awesomeness that they didn\'t even notice Skuld marching a damned massive army right up to the gates of their castle in a situation that can best be described as being sneak-attacked by the Pacific Ocean.</p>\r\n<p>Even when he noticed that he was completely surrounded by a force several times larger than his own, Hrolf didn\'t give a crap. He just ordered a messenger to go to Skuld\'s camp and tell her that he and his champions were going to have one more drink of ale, then come out and beat her ass into submission.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/skuld3.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span>Hrolf in his glory days.</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>That was it. Skuld ordered her army to set their phasers to decapitate and the two armies met in a huge-ass beat-down that quickly littered the entire battlefield in a thick layer of corpses. Guys were exploding apart all over the place, Elves were fistfighting Vikings, everything larger than a cantaloupe was being sliced in half, and bodies were stacking up so high that warriors had to climb over mountains of dead bodies just to propoerly kill each other. One of Hrolf\'s berserkers, the mighty hero Bothvar Bjarki, awesomely responded to the carnage fest by transforming himself into a huge ass bear, and the Viking Grizzly monstrosity started swatting men apart with his gigantic paws and biting horses in half with one chomp of his ferocious iron-like jaws. I picture it wearing a hilarious horned helmet while doing so, though the legend isn\'t specific about this.</p>\r\n<p>Skuld, commanding her army from an ominous black-flagged witch\'s tent, responded to the Norse bear massacre of her army by summoning a fearsome demonic ox-sized wild boar into the fray. The wild boar is one of the most ill-tempered and murderous land animals to ever exist, and when they\'re summoned from a super-evil dimension beyond the mortal realm, you may as well just kiss your ass sayonara. In addition to flinging people around with its tusks and shredding armor like it was made out of Fruit Roll-Ups, this thing had a super-tough hide that was impervious to sword blows, and it shot arrow-like quills out of its back that hit dudes so hard it tore them in half.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/skuld4.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span>Here\'s a wild boar fucking up a leopard IRL.</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>The bloodbath raged on. Hrolf\'s berserkers and champions raged against the armies of Skuld, fighting for their very survival. Those warriors fortunate enough to still be in one piece now found themselves covered from sword-hilt to shoulder in the blood of their enemies. Hrolf\'s men fought a desperate stand and against all odds started to push Skuld\'s forces back, but this is when things somehow get even more crazy. Skuld, seeing her army\'s resolve falter in the face of this army of human-sized bandsaws, knew it was time to break out her secret weapon &ndash; her command over the forces of life and death itself. She furiously stormed out of her tent, entered the battlefield, and began rezzing dead warriors &ndash; reviving the slain and sending them right back out there to continue the fight. That\'s right, folks, we are talking about goddamned VIKING ZOMBIES here.</p>\r\n<p>This has to be one of the most epic, insane showdowns of all time. Let\'s picture this for a second. It\'s the middle of winter. The towering spires of a huge-ass Viking fortress are engulfed in flames, and the stench of smoke and corpses mix with the bitter cold and heavy winds of a snowy Scandinavian December to whip around the combatants. With no hope of survival, the half-drunk King of Denmark bravely defends his throne room in what he knows to be a triumphant last stand worthy of Valhalla. His personal champions, the twelve greatest and most accomplished warriors in the realm, fight for their lives Helm\'s Deep-style alongside a giant killer ghost-bear, while the ultra-powerful sorceress Skuld leads her mish-mashed army of Dark Elves, Viking Zombies, and a house-sized angry pig that shoots arrows out of its ass.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/skuld5.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span>Friggin\' Anarchy at Hrolf\'s last stand.</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>For every man Hrolf\'s warriors cut down, another half-dead walking corpse was there to take his place. Bothvar even engaged the Swedish king Hjorvarth in single combat, cut off both of the guy\'s arms, slice off a leg, and cleaved the dude in half through the torso, but Skuld reanimated her husband\'s corpse within minutes and hurled his cobbled-together body back into the fray anew. I can only assume this was pretty demoralizing to everybody involved.</p>\r\n<p>With Hrolf\'s champions on the defensive, slowly being bashed into submission by the never-ending stream of undead, Skuld charged up to the fray, burst into the throne room, and personally oversaw the final destruction of her half-brother and his precious douche champions. The woman who was once unwanted by her own father had now single-handedly destroyed thirteen of the most feared and deadliest warriors in the world, and triumphantly took her place on the bloody throne as the new Queen of the Viking world.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/skuld6.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Sources:</span><br /><br /><span> (I don\'t remember all the sources off the top of my head at the moment, and I don\'t have a copy of my book or my bibliography handy, but I\'m pretty sure everything came from <em>The Saga of Hrolf Kraki</em>, an ancient Norse text from the 9th or 10th century that is probably one of the most awesome things that has ever been written. I\'ll confirm this and update the site accordingly once I\'m able.) </span></p>','2011-10-07','1229781154','skuld-main.jpg','skuld1.jpg','Skuld','Ancient Norse necromancer chick who summoned an army of Viking Zombies.','\"I fear now that the dead stir here, rise up again and fight against us, and hard will it prove to fight with fetches; and for all so many limbs as here are cloven, shields split, and helms and corslets hewn in pieces, and many a chieftain cut asunder, these the dead are now the grimmest to contend with, nor have we the strength to cope with them.\"\r\n\r\n- Bothvar Bjarki in The Saga of Hrolf Kraki'),('Jean-Pierre Hallet','1927','January 1, 2004','Belgium','Modern Belgian Adventurer','<p>Jean-Pierre Hallet is what you would get if you crossed the Most Interesting Man in the World with Tarzan of the Apes (the badass, break-a-monkey-in-half-with-his-fists Edgar Rice Burroughs version, and not the happy-go-lucky, tree-surfing Disney version with the perfect teeth), then put him into real life and made him an unbelievably-amazing humanitarian who was so unassailably chill that it was impossible not to like him.</p>\r\n<p>Hallet was born in Belgium in 1927. His father was apparently-famous impressionist painter Andre Hallet, a man whose paintings of the untamed African wilderness now hang in art galleries in nearly every country in the world, and, when you consider that this kid was fourteen damn pounds when he was born, we can only assume his mother was a pretty hardcore character as well. Jean-Pierre grew up in the Congo, (which, if the 1990s Tim Curry movie is to be believed, is populated almost entirely by giant, hyper-intelligent Laser Gorillas and fiery volcanoes that spew magma like all the time, making it pretty awesome), and while his dad was out contributing to the commendable-yet-not-exactly-skull-crushing field of impressionist oil painting, this kid was in the middle of the fucking wilderness living among Rwandan Bantu tribesmen, learning native languages, and immersing himself in African culture.</p>\r\n<p>By the time Jean-Pierre was six, he already spoke fluent Bantu, dressed like the locals, and refused to speak French even to his own parents. So, naturally, he was shipped back to Belgium to receive a \"proper European education\". This was great and all, but after about seven years of Belgian boarding school it became significantly less great, mostly because that\'s about the time the German blitzkrieg rolled into Belgium on a crimson sea of blood, dive-bombers, and obliterated machinery, kicked the shit out of everyone, and firmly planted a Nazi jackboot on the faces of the entire population of the country in a most uncomfortable manner.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/hallet1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span>WWII Resistance Fighters.</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Now Jean-Pierre Hallet was only 15 in 1942, but he was also 6\'5\" tall and 250 pounds, and this hot-blooded, freedom-loving, linebacker-sized asskicker wasn\'t about to sit around and let a bunch of Fascists push him around just because they had an unstoppable army of gigantic fucking panzers. This teenage warrior grabbed his hunting rifle and spent the better part 1942 and 43 blowing up German bases and raiding supply trains as part of the Belgian Resistance, and, once the Allies rolled through and liberated Belgium in 1944, he immediately enlisted in the Belgian regular Army, fought through the rest of the war, and won some war medals for bravery in combat, though sadly I wasn\'t able to track down any info on those &ndash; we\'ll just suffice it to say that he kicked the balls of some Germans and got a little bit of sweet revenge for all that crazy shit they\'d tried to pull on his countrymen.</p>\r\n<p>After getting a degree in sociology from the Sorbonne and a degree in badassitude from World War II, Hallet decided that Africa was way sweeter than Europe (mostly because it had way fewer Nazis/explosions), so he packed his shit and went back to the Congo as a member of the Belgian Colonial Ministry. But, amazingly, this dude\'s adventures were just getting started, and, in a weird turn of events, it would soon become apparent that machine gunning German stormtroopers as a member of an underground partisan unit was probably the least exciting thing this dude did in his entire life.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/hallet2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span>Hallet in the Congo.</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Immediately upon arriving in Zaire with the Ministry, Hallet proceeded to completely immerses himself in the culture of every tribe in Western Africa, eventually learning to speak and understand 17 different African languages (plus French and English and who knows whatever the fuck else). He became a blood-brother of the Tutsi in Rwanda. He became the first white man to join the Bwama Secret Society &ndash; a group so mysterious that we don\'t even really know what the hell that even means. He hung out with the Balego, who, at the time, were pretty notorious for killing foreigners and eating their corpses, although somehow he managed to avoid becoming dinner for them and instead was adopted as a member of the tribe. At 23, Hallet became a formal member of the badass Kenyan Maasai warrior tribe, a feat that isn\'t as easy as it sounds (and it does not sound easy) &ndash; apparently the initiation rite involves standing alone inside a ring of chanting warriors and fighting a pissed-off lion in a duel to the death armed with only a spear and a gigantic set of testicles. Jean-Pierre Hallet, being a man who apparently was afraid of damned-near nothing, walked right into the middle of the circle, stared down the lion, and, according to a family friend of his, killed it \"with bravado\". I don\'t necessarily know what that means, but the mental image I have more or less resembles that picture I just posted above with all the pterodactyls and shit.</p>\r\n<p>Another adventure has the 30 year-old Hallet wandering through the woods when suddenly he was shot in the leg by a poison-tipped blowgun dart fired by an overzealous Pygmy warrior who didn\'t take all that kindly to outsiders nosing around his turf. Hallet stumbled forward, pressed on to the Pygmy camp while the fast-acting poison coursed through his veins, had the tribe\'s witch-doctor cut a big chunk out of his leg (without anesthesia) to drain the blood, somehow survived a neurotoxin with roughly a 90% fatality rate (it\'s designed for taking down wild game) and then proceeded to live among the Pygmy for 18 months. By the time he left, this guy was an official member of the tribe, spoke their language fluently, knew how to build his own bow and arrows out of tree bark, and was proficient in a presumably-insane sport known as \"Archery Ball\". Within days of returning to the Belgian consulate, Jean-Pierre formally submitted a \"Declaration of Emancipation\" to the government which convinced them to grant this particular Pygmy tribe complete autonomy and freedom from the Belgian laws that covered the region. So that\'s a win.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/hallet3.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span>Hallet with the Pygmies.</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>By his own count, Hallet survived nineteen near-death experiences during his epic life, including one time he was captured by AK-47 toting rebels during the Congo War and ended up convincing them to let him go. The most badass of these NDEs, however, involves the time he was dynamite fishing in Lake Tanganyika, blew himself up, and then almost got eaten by crocodiles.</p>\r\n<p>Yes, you read that correctly.</p>\r\n<p>Hallet had been fishing at the lake for a while in an effort to help provide much-needed food to a starving local tribe that had been hit hard by a nasty drought, when suddenly a double-stick of TNT fucking blew off his right arm at the elbow, disintegrated his boat, and dumped him in croc-infested waters. Losing blood by the pint and surrounded by man-eating creatures well known for their propensity to sense such substances when they are present in the water, Hallet somehow swam all the way back to shore, walked a mile through the fucking Congo to get back to his truck, and fashioned a makeshift tourniquet using just his teeth and his off-hand. But the danger still wasn\'t over &ndash; Hallet was still high in the mountains and the park gates were closing soon, so this guy friggin\' floored it and hauled ass 200 miles down a narrow, unpaved mountain road, steering with one arm and holding onto consciousness despite losing blood from dozens of shrapnel wounds. He survived, made it to the nearest hospital, lived through surgery, and would eventually be fitted for a prosthetic Luke Skywalker-style replacement (though apparently decided that was \"for pussies\" and never wore it).</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/hallet4.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Just a few months after this harrowing experience, Hallet and some buddies were walking through the jungle when all of a sudden out of nowhere a HUGE FUCKING LEOPARD came flying out of nowhere and mauled the shit out of one of his friends. Hallet, being a completely balls-out hardass, did the only rational thing that came into his head, which of course was to RUN OVER AND JUMP ON THE THING\'S BACK. With only one good arm, and presumably still week from the insane amount of surgery he had gone through just a few weeks previously, Jean-Pierre Hallet somehow wrestled the leopard off the dude, manhandled the massive beast the ground, and rolled around with this apex predator in an epic struggle that lasted nearly ten minutes. None of Hallet\'s buddies were badass/insane enough to jump in, but one guy helpfully flung a hunting knife vaguely in the adventurer\'s direction, so Hallet crawled his way over to the thing (while simultaneously avoiding the gigantic claws of a 500-pound leopard), pressed his stump arm against the creature\'s neck to keep it from biting him, and then stabbed it with his left hand, killing it.</p>\r\n<p>Hm, I guess at this point I should note that Hallet didn\'t actually hate animals &ndash; it was really just the ones that were actively trying to kill him. When this dude wasn\'t fighting for his life, he studied the animals of the Congo, following them to their native habitats and observing them, and his books and journal articles were some of the first detailed writings on the subject of wildlife behavior on the Congo jungle. So that\'s something.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/hallet5.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span>Hallet, seen here in the process of NOT killing an animal.</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Eventually the Belgian government decided they were sick and tired of Jean-Pierre Hallet running around the Congo being totally fucking awesome, so they transferred him to another post way the fuck out on the other side of the world. Hallet resigned on the spot. The so-called \"Abe Lincoln of the Pygmies\" (how sweet of a nickname is that?) spent the last 45 years of his life traveling back and forth between California and Africa, and founded the Pygmy Fund, which is a charitable organization devoted to improving the lives and preserving the culture of the African Pygmies. In addition to raising awareness for the cause through a global lecture circuit and dozens of books on the subject, Hallet also lived among the Pygmies for many years, teaching them how to farm, build sturdy homes, read, and do basic math. He also bought 500 acres of farmable land for them to live on, brought them modern tools, developed an 18,000-entry Pygmy Language Dictionary, delivered nearly 500 babies (!), and assembled one of the largest collections of African art in the world (which he then sold off piece-by-piece, with all proceeds going to his charity). He\'s like Mother Theresa with a twelve-inch hunting knife and the ability to crush the skull of a human being with one arm.</p>\r\n<p>For his work, Jean-Pierre Hallet received the Royal Order of the Lion from the King of Belgium, was declared \"Humanitarian of the Decade\" for the 1970s, and was once nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize, which is sweet because there probably aren\'t a lot of Nobel Peace Prize nominees who have killed a leopard with their bare hands. He died of leukemia in 2004 at the age of 76. When his sons were cleaning out his office at the Pygmy Fund, they discovered file cabinets full of personal correspondences he\'d established with the people who had donated to his charity.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/hallet6.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<table style=\"width: 500px;\" align=\"center\">\r\n<tbody>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><span>\"The pygmies of the Ituri Forest must be saved. They still represent the true human potential for love, peace and harmony, without crime or greed. If people are judged by the quality of their hearts and minds, the ancestral pygmies are giants of mankind. Yet, our often blind, \"civilization\" is now responsible for the imminent extinction of those people by systematically destroying their forest. Sophisticated technology is self-destructive. Our ultimate survival can only be inspired by saving a simple people such as the pygmies.\"</span></td>\r\n</tr>\r\n</tbody>\r\n</table>\r\n<p><br /> <span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://pygmyfund.org/eulogy.html\">Eulogy at the Pygmy Fund</a><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://midhudsongalleries.com/id8.html\">Hudson Galleries Biography</a><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://africanartsetc.com/Home_Page.html\">African Arts bio</a></p>','2011-10-21','41808711276','hallet.jpg','hallet3.jpg','Jean-Pierre Hallet','The Most Interesting Man in the World meets Tarzan, in real life.','\"He\'s a lover, not a fighter... But he\'s also a fighter, so don\'t get any ideas.\"'),('Jean-David Nau','1635','1668','Les Sables d\'Olonne, France','17th-century French Pirate','<p>After being inundated with centuries of Captain Kidd-style, eyepatch-wearing swashbucklers shivering their timbers in diabolical Tim Curry-style British accents while burning landlubbers on the deck of Spanish galleons, most folks probably wouldn\'t think the cruelest, most despised, and most horrifically-brutal buccaneer cutthroat in the history of badass pirate shit would be some random French dude named Jean-David.</p>\r\n<p>Well, my friends, this is a statuary representation of a dude named Francois L\'Ollonais &ndash; and even though he\'s sporting a stylish/foppish hat, has long, flowing curly locks, and kind of looks like a Musketeer (the historical Musketeers, not the version sailing around on airships in the new film, which, as far as I can tell from the previews, seems to have more in common with the candy bar than the Dumas novel) this cutlass-toting psychotic madman from a dimension one step worse than Hell was such an unbelievably brutal badass that his mere presence on the high seas literally caused many Spanish galleon troops to leap overboard to their deaths rather than risk falling into his nefarious clutches:</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/lollonais1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>The man who would one day be feared and reviled as \"The Flail of Spain,\" (because when Spaniards saw him they started screaming and flailing their arms around wildly like they were being electrocuted) Francois L\'Ollonais was born with the name Jean-David Nau, sometime around the year 1635. He\'s from a town called Les Sables d\'Olonne, which is located on the Western coast of France, not far from where fellow badass Richard the Lionheart grew up. But while Le Coer d\'Lion spent his teenage years cutting people in half with a broadsword and then beating their family members to death with the lifeless torso of their former kinsman, Jean-David Nau grew up as a penniless pauper and was sold into slavery and/or indentured servitude at the age of fifteen. He was brought to the Spanish-controlled island of Hispaniola in the Caribbean (the present-day Dominican Republic), and spent the next ten years of his life in exceedingly harsh conditions, working back-breaking, fuck-my-life menial labor in the blazing heat and stifling humidity of the tropical summer and then getting the ever-loving shit beaten out of him by his masters any time he complained about it or failed to produce whatever his arbitrary quota was for that day.</p>\r\n<p>Jean-David served his time, and, at the end of his tenure, was released back into the wild as a free man without so much as a tracking chip through the year. He changed his name to Francois L\'Ollonais, probably because he really enjoyed names that are pretty much impossible to spell, and decided to get involved in the kicking-asses-for-money business. In 1660 he moved to Tortuga, a French-controlled island just north of the Haitian mainland that was pretty much right up there with Port Royal in terms of being some of the most wretched hives of scum and villainy on the planet. It didn\'t take much wandering through a city that led the world in per-capita syphilis infections for this beefy Frenchman to find work, and before long L\'Ollonais had signed on with a shipload of scurvy buccaneers ravaging the high seas for booty and adventure and then the other kind of booty.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/lollonais2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Now the crazy shit about L\'Ollonais is that he wasn\'t even really a pirate &ndash; this guy was a buccaneer/privateer, meaning that he had a license to kill from the King of France, and was granted free reign to murder, rob, and plunder Spaniards in a sort of gunpowder-era state-sponsored terrorist campaign aimed at disrupting the transfer of wealth from the New World to Spain. And he was damn good at it &ndash; after just a few missions, this guy had proved himself such a gunslinging, cutlass-hacking hardass that the Governor of Tortuga (!) gave him a ship of his own and a letter of marque, and told him to get out there and keep up the good work re: murdering everyone in the Caribbean Sea who didn\'t have a Fleur d\'Lis flag above their mainmast. L\'Ollonais walked the docks, recruited some unkempt-looking \"Brethren of the Coast\", and went on an epic cross-ocean murder spree &ndash; plundering ships, destroying galleons, and leaving no survivors Dread Pirate Roberts-style</p>\r\n<p>L\'Ollonais\'s brutal wrath soon came back to bit him in the ass a little bit, when in 1663 he sailed into a nasty storm and found himself shipwrecked on the Yucatan Peninsula. Even though the buccaneer managed to get most of his crew through the storm alive, the scurvy scalawags were immediately attacked by Spanish landlubbers, who were more than eager to show the already-notorious Frenchman the same professional courtesy he\'d been showing to their galleons. The Spanish opened fire immediately, and a hail of bullets cut through L\'Ollonais\'s troops, exploding people like blood packs in the hospital microwave. Seeing that the battle was lost, and badly wounded by a musketball through some non-musketball-friendly portion of his body, L\'Ollonais dropped down to the sand, covered himself with the dead bodies of his fallen men, and pretended to be dead in a ruse not dissimilar to Liam Neeson in that scene from <em>Taken</em>. As soon as the Spaniards left, L\'Ollonais climbed out of the corpse-pile, took some clothes off a dead Spaniard, walked right into the city of Campeche, bluffed his way past the guards (he spoke fluent, accentless Spanish, having picked it up during his indentured servitude), and reconned the city. That night he freed a couple French slaves from a local prison, killed a couple dudes, stole a pair of canoes from the dock and started rowing for freedom.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/lollonais3.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>He didn\'t get far before the Spanish saw the trail of bloody corpses and figured out what the fuck was going on. When the local governor learned that L\'Ollonais was alive and on the run he sent a crew of pirate-hunters out with very specific orders &ndash; get out there and don\'t return until every pirate is dead, except Francois &ndash; he needed to be taken alive so he could be tortured to death at a later date. But the cagey L\'Ollonais sniffed out the pirate-hunters, got the drop on those assclowns, boarded their sloop by rowing his canoes right up to them in the middle of the night (!), and then beheaded every man on board except one -- he sent that poor bastard back home to deliver a hand-written note that simply read, \"I shall never henceforward give quarter to any Spaniard whatsoever, and I have great hopes I shall execute on your own person the very same punishment I have done upon them you sent against me. Thus I have retaliated the kindness you designed to me and my companions.\"</p>\r\n<p>Then he stole their ship and sailed back home.</p>\r\n<p>From this point on, Francois L\'Ollonais became even more merciless and even more totally fucking insane. Now, not only did this French motherfucker massacre every man aboard Spanish ships except one (he usually put that dude in a rowboat and sent him out to spread terror, so that all the Spanish Main would quake at the pirate\'s name), he now found a bunch of new, exciting, and horrific ways to torture them to death that were so sadistic that Dexter probably would have cried a tear of joy. The most famous act was the time a totally roided-out L\'Ollonaise cut a dude\'s still-beating heart out, ate a piece of it, and then threw the half-eaten heart in another Spanish dude\'s face while ROFL\'Ollonaising his ass off about it, but that doesn\'t even begin to cover it. This murderous psycho was also a master at cutting people apart bit by bit, starting with the hands, and he could also keep you alive for a while as he was burning you to death with fire. In his shipboard blood fiesta he also perfected something called \"woolding\", which sounds like it should be some cute thing involving petting sheep or something but in reality was the practice of tying a rope around a dude\'s head and then tightening it to the point where the guy\'s eyes pop out of his head like they\'ve been shot out of a potato cannon. For his extreme brutality, L\'Ollonais developed quite a reputation, and everywhere he went the Spaniards resolved to fight this freakshow to the last man and never surrender &ndash; even when the battle was over, many enemy sailors would jump overboard to their deaths rather than face the unbelievable wrath of this maniacal Frenchman who was more fit for Arkham Asylum than the deck of a warship. I mean, shit, this dude was so fucking psychotic that his own people deserted him whenever they got the chance &ndash; sure, he made them rich with plunder, but WTF, right?</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/lollonais4.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>L\'Ollonais is also one of the first privateers to attack ports as well as ships, which was seriously bad fucking news for the poor citizens of the towns in his wake. In 1667, he assembled a fleet of 8 ships and 660 men and attacked the port of Maracaibo in present-day Venezuela. The harbor was guarded by 16 cannons, but L\'Ollonais docked along the coast, rowed up a small river in a bunch of canoes, and attacked the port from the land side, crushing the defenders in a hail of bullets after a three-hour gun battle. He then spent the next four weeks horrifically torturing the population for their loot, and when the populace didn\'t give him enough cash he ransomed the city back to Spain for a little extra dough. After that he attacked the nearby town of Gibraltar in a similar way, but since he\'d lost so many men in the attack he ordered every guard and citizen put to death. The entire town was wiped out, usually after torture, and burned to the ground. The pirates made out with cases of jewels and a quarter-million pieces of eight, which were promptly brought back to Tortuga and spent on gonorrhea-laden hookers.</p>\r\n<p>L\'Ollonais\' next cruise wouldn\'t go quite so swimmingly for him (or for the prostitutes of Tortuga, for that matter) &ndash; he plundered Puerto Cabellos and San Pedro in a similarly-vicious manner to what he\'d done at Maracaibo, but constant ambushes by Spanish forces continually whittled down his crew. The infamous French psychopath was a little too cocky at this point, and was unwilling to be slowed down by something as insignificant as a crippling lack of manpower. In early 1668 he tried to attack Nicaragua with just one ship and ended up wrecking it on a sandbar just off the coast like a dumbass. The understandably-pissed soldiers of Spain caught up to the heart-eating maniac, wiped out most of his crew, and captured him alive. L\'Ollonais, being a resourceful bastard, however, managed to escape, though this didn\'t work out all that well for him either &ndash; he was almost immediately captured by the local Darien Indian tribe, who weren\'t exactly going to be as humane as the Spanish and simply hang him in chains while birds pecked out his eyes &ndash; these guys burned him alive, cut his still-breathing body into pieces bit by bit, then cooked him and ate him. Karma\'s a bitch, and she has a taste for irony.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/lollonais6.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<table style=\"width: 500px;\" align=\"center\">\r\n<tbody>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><span>\"Here suddenly his ill-fortune assailed him, which of a long time had been reserved for him as a punishment due to the multitude of horrible crimes, which in his licentious and wicked life he had committed. For God Almighty, the time of His divine justice being now already come, had appointed the Indians of Darien to be the instruments and executioners thereof.\" </span></td>\r\n</tr>\r\n</tbody>\r\n</table>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://www.thewayofthepirates.com/famous-pirates/francois-lollonais.php\">The Way of the Pirates</a><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://www.thepiratesrealm.com/Francois%20L%27Ollonais.html\">The Pirates\' Realm</a><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fran%C3%A7ois_l%27Olonnais\">Wikipedia</a></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Sources:</span><br /><br /><span> Exquemelin, Alexandre.&nbsp; <em>The Buccaneers of America</em>.&nbsp; G. Allen, 1911.<br /><br /> Gosse, Philip.&nbsp; <em>The Pirates\' Who\'s Who</em>.&nbsp; Echo, 2006.<br /><br /> Karg, Barb and Arjean Spaite. <em>The Everything Pirates Book</em>.&nbsp; Everything Books, 2007.<br /><br /> Selinger, Gail and W. Thomas Smith.&nbsp; <em>The Complete Idiot\'s Guide to Pirates</em>.&nbsp; Penguin, 2006. </span></p>','2011-10-28','8508271399','lollonais.jpg','lollonais1.jpg','François l\'Olonnais','The cruelest, most despised pirate on the Spanish Main.','\"L\'Ollonais grew outrageously passionate; he drew his cutlass, and with it cut open the breast of one of those poor Spanish, and pulling out his heart with his sacrilegious hands, began to bite and gnaw it with his teeth, like a ravenous wolf, saying to the rest: I will serve you all alike, if you show me not another way.\"'),('Daniel Inouye','September 7, 1924','N/A','Honolulu, HI, USA','WWII American Soldier','<p><span>(Note:&nbsp; I have very recently been informed that I\'m being laid off from my miserable, soul-crushingly shitty admin job that I hate, so, for better or for worse, in about thirty days I\'m going to doing this writing thing as my primary source of income.&nbsp; While I\'m kind of looking forward to having time to dig into my massive backlog of 500+ unanswered website emails and/or drink beer before noon on a weekday, in a brazen display of shameless self-promotion I\'m also going to post a link to my crappy new <a href=\"http://benthompsonwriter.wordpress.com/\">personal writing website</a> just in case you or someone you know is looking to pay money in exchange for badass freelance writing.)</span></p>\r\n<p>This Wednesday, November 1st, the surviving members of the American 442nd Regimental Combat Team traveled to Washington, DC, where they were awarded Presidential Gold Medals to honor their dedication to the timeless art of crotch-kicking the flaming shitfire out of Nazi Deutschbags across Italy and France during the Second World War. Now, while everyone who served in the war can absolutely be considered a badass, this elite fighting unit is particularly noteworthy in that it consisted entirely of Japanese-American soldiers &ndash; men who were fighting for their country (a country where they were viewed with suspicion as possible spies or enemy agents) in a no-holds-barred worldwide asskicking competition against the land of their forefathers &ndash; and not only did these guys go out and do their duty, but they all <em>volunteered</em> for the job. These were guys with a chip on their collective shoulder and a penchant for bayoneting Fascist fucks, and in two years of near-constant combat with tough-as-nails opponents the 12,000 men of the Four-Four-Two racked up 9,400 Purple Hearts, 53 Distinguished Service Crosses (19 of which were later upgraded to Medals of Honor) and seven Presidential Unit Citations, easily making them one of the most decorated combat units of World War II. This is some serious shit, and, with all due respect to fictional badass Mister Miyagi of <em>Karate Kid</em> fame, the most hardcore member of this celebrated unit is easy to identify &ndash; he\'s a face-crushing asskicker named Daniel K. Inouye, and his story is so over-the-top insane that if you saw it in a movie you\'d think the screenwriter was totally full of shit.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/inouye1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Daniel Inouye was a second-generation Japanese-American living in Honolulu, Hawaii, when the Japanese fighter-bombers started hammering the fucking bejeezus out of the naval base at Pearl Harbor. The seventeen-year-old Inouye had been on his way to church when the shit hit the fan, and as Zeroes buzzed over the roof of his house he could clearly see the plumes of smoke from the burning American battleships in the harbor. Inouye was an aspiring physician and taught first aid at the local Red Cross station, so naturally he hauled ass down there and spend the next five sleepless days patching up wounded military personnel. Immediately after his marathon bout of tourniquet application, Inouye went down to enlist in the army and kick the shit out of the people who had just dropped bombs on his hometown. Unfortunately, even though this guy was a U.S. citizen, as a person of Japanese descent he was classified 4-C, meaning \"Enemy Alien\". Undraftable. Unable to serve. The Enemy. Possibly a Cylon.</p>\r\n<p>But Daniel Effin Inouye wasn\'t going to take that bullshit excuse for an answer. This guy was no Enemy Alien &ndash; he was an American, and goddamn it he was going to fight. So, even while something like 120,000 Japanese-Americans were being moved to internment camps across the United States, destined to live out the war in government barracks, Inouye kept signing petitions and desperately trying to assist the war effort in any possible capacity. In 1943, when FDR decided, \"Fuck it, let\'s see what these dudes can do\" (and I believe that\'s a direct quote) and ordered the creation of two all-Japanese-American units (the 100th Battalion and the 442nd Regimental Combat Team) Inouye was at the enlistment office the next day. When the recruiter told Danny he couldn\'t join up because he was employed as an EMT at a government aid station, Inouye went home, quit his job, came right back, and took the oath. Balla shit.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/inouye3.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>The 442nd RCT deployed in Italy towards the end of 1943. As I said, these were motherfuckers who had something to prove (mainly, \"We\'re all on the same side here, guys\"), and Inouye was no exception. This tornado of American Asskicking was personally engaged in six major campaigns, and was such a fucking badass that even when he stepped on a tripwire and got a shotgun-blast of grenade shrapnel in his leg he just \"walked it off\" and kept on wasting Fascists with a relentless series of rifle butts and bazooka blasts to the dome. By his fourth battle he was already a Sergeant, which is just as much a testament to his leadership and balls-out-ed-ness as it is to the fact that officers and NCOs in the Four-Four-Two were expected to survive about fifteen seconds of live-fire combat.</p>\r\n<p>The 442nd got its first major operational test in the Fall of 1944, when a company of Texas National Guardsmen were trapped, surrounded, and pinned down in the Vosges Mountains by nearly a full division of German troops. A couple of attempts had been made to break the Texans out, but every effort had been thwarted by ferocious German resistance. So, in a last-ditch effort to save the cut-off Americans, the 442nd was sent on what basically amounted to a suicide mission.</p>\r\n<p>They didn\'t disappoint. The 4,200 men of the \"Go for Broke\" Regiment dove face-first into a fortified position where they were outnumbered roughly 5-to-1 by crack, battle-tested German infantry, but they couldn\'t have given a fuck about it if you\'d paid them to do so. After five days of hand-to-hand, bayonet-to-face combat that cost the 442nd roughly a third of their men, Inouye and his unit busted through the lines in an explosion of blood, found the Texans, and shot their way out of the trap like Ellen Ripley tearing ass through the colony on LV-426 in an APC. For kicking asses and leading his platoon through a battle they had absolutely no business winning, Inouye was issued a Bronze star and a commission to Second Lieutenant. According to Inouye, the best part of this commission was that he now got to tote a Thompson submachine gun into combat &ndash; and even though that thing was wildly fucking inaccurate, it was loud, nasty, and it was so goddamned powerful that one time he shot a dude in the ankle and blew the guy\'s entire foot off.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/inouye4.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<table style=\"width: 500px;\" align=\"center\">\r\n<tbody>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><span>\"When you go into a battle and they put on the bayonet, you know they mean business. And we meant business... this was a Shoot the Works battle. That means you put on the bayonet. You\'re going to get them no matter what the cost.\"</span></td>\r\n</tr>\r\n</tbody>\r\n</table>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>After this side quest in France, Inouye went back to Italy, where he performed what is now his most famous act of totally badass shit. Inouye\'s platoon had been ordered to capture a German strong point along the Colle Musatello Ridge, so naturally this guy decided to go in guns blazing. He led his team through intense fire to capture an observation post, a mortar team, and an artillery position (no bigs), and then moved his troops within 40 yards of a heavily-fortified defensive line, where they immediately came under heavy suppressing fire from three different heavy machine gun positions. Inouye didn\'t give a fuck. He started chucking grenades like a madman, trying to blast the bunkers apart. This was fun for a while, but as he stood up to lob yet another explosive he was suddenly shot through the abdomen by a German MG bullet that passed all the way through his torso and came mere inches from severing his spine.</p>\r\n<p>Naturally, this only pissed him off.</p>\r\n<p>So, with the rest of his men pinned down by heavy weapons, the wounded Lieutenant grabbed a backpack of frags and started army-crawling up the ridge towards the enemy guns. As soon as he was close enough, he assaulted the first machine gun nest on his own, taking it out with a grenade from just five yards away and then clearing the rest of it out Al Capone-style with a spray of .45-caliber ammunition from his badass Tommy gun. When that one was taken care of, Inouye sprinted to a second position, dual-chucking two grenades that redecorated the walls of the bunker with Fascist parts.</p>\r\n<p>Unfortunately, the time Inouye was headed for the third position, the Germans were ready for him &ndash; the dudes in this nest had just watched this insane-as-fuck little Japanese dude flying around bombing the shit out of their buddies, and these motherfuckers weren\'t about to sit back and let Inouye just hand-deliver a fragmentation explosive into their rectums without a fight. So when Inouye was sprinting across open ground a mere 10 yards the machine gun nest, suddenly he saw a German dude pop up from behind a sandbag, aim a rifle-mounted grenade at him, and blast him at point-blank range with the WWII version of an RPG.</p>\r\n<p>The blast covered Inouye with shrapnel and shredded his right arm to the point where it was barely still attached. This, however, failed to stop him. Inouye simply looked down at his useless arm (which was still clutching a hand grenade), pried the grenade out of it with his left hand, and lobbed it underhand right into the dumbfounded German\'s face from about 15 feet away. The results weren\'t pretty.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/inouye5.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>From this point on in the battle, Lieutenant Daniel Inouye of the 442nd Regimental Combat Team went into Total Fucking Berserker Meltdown Mode. He doesn\'t even remember what happened next &ndash; but his awestruck platoon members sure as fuck do.</p>\r\n<p>While still bleeding profusely from the mangled stump that used to be his right arm, Daniel Inouye ditched the grenades, unslung the Tommy Gun, and started firing it one-handed while running all over the goddamned battlefield like a fucking maniac, blasting the holy living shit out of anything with a gray helmet. He cleared out the third machine gun position with the Tommy Gun, changed the magazine, and then started running <em>towards the main body of the enemy position</em>, by himself, shooting the machine gun with his off-hand, wasting Nazis left and right in a hail of gigantic bullets. Finally, after rampaging like a madman, Inouye was shot in the leg, lost his footing, and fell down a hill. Unable to move, but unwilling to back down, Inouye propped himself up against the nearest tree, kept firing, and refused to be evauated until his Sergeants had moved the unit into position and prepared defenses for the inevitable German counterattack. All told, he had killed 25 Germans and wounded 8 more, and he\'d literally done it all single-handedly. When the men in his unit came to the hospital and recounted the events to Inouye, his exact words were, \"No, that can\'t be... you\'d have to be insane to do all that.\"</p>\r\n<p>No shit.</p>\r\n<p>Daniel Inouye received the Distinguished Service Cross, which was later upgraded to the Medal of Honor. He lost the arm and had it replaced with a badass hook, and after 20 months of surgery and recovery in various military hospitals, he went home, got a law degree, and worked as a prosecuting attorney. In 1962 he was almost unanimously elected to the Senate (thus making him the first Japanese-American in Congress) -- he\'s won the post nine times since then, making him the longest-serving current member of the Senate and the second-longest serving Senator in the history of the United States.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/inouye6.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span>\"Americanism is not and has never been a matter of race or color. <br />Americanism is a matter of mind and heart.\"<br /><br />- FDR</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://www.army.mil/asianpacificsoldiers/moh/ww2/inouye.html\">Army.mil Page</a><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://www.hawaiireporter.com/grit-courage-2nd-lt-and-u-s-senator-daniel-k-inouye-u-s-army/123\">Hawaii Reporter Article</a><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://www.army.mil/article/68392/442nd_legacy_takes_Soldiers_from__enemy_aliens__to_heroes/\">442nd Regiment Story</a><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Daniel_Inouye\">Wikipedia</a></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Sources:</span><br /><br /><span> Brokaw, Tom.&nbsp; <em>The Greatest Generation</em>.&nbsp; Random House, 2004.<br /><br /> Smith, Larry H. and Norman Schwarzkopf.&nbsp; <em>Beyond Glory</em>.&nbsp; W.W. Norton, 2004.<br /><br /> Sterner, C. Douglas.&nbsp; <em>Go for Broke</em>.&nbsp; American Legacy Media, 2007. </span></p>','2011-11-04','62238721615','inouye3.jpg','inouye.jpg','Daniel Inouye','WWII Japanese-American killed 25 Germans with one arm.','\"My father just looked straight ahead, and I looked straight ahead, and then he cleared his throat and said, \'America has been good to us. It has given me two jobs. It has given you and your sisters and brothers education. We all love this country. Whatever you do, do not dishonor your country. Remember – never dishonor your family. And if you must give your life, do so with honor.\' I knew exactly what he meant. I said, \'Yes, sir. Good-bye.\"'),('Stubby the Dog','1916','March 16, 1926','New Haven, CT, USA','WWI American Soldier','<p>Sergeant Stubby was a stray, homeless mutt who saved more lives, saw more combat, and performed more badass feats of heroic awesomeness than most people could ever hope to accomplish even WITH the advantage of prehensile thumbs and the ability to utilize 100 percent of their brain power without exploding into a burst of ball lightning.</p>\r\n<p>The American version of <a href=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/voytek.html\">Voytek the Soldier Bear</a>, this fearless, ass-destroyingly ferocious Pit Bull Terrier started his humble life as most stray animals do &ndash; hungry, cold, alone, and stranded in the town of New Haven, Connecticut. Living garbage can to garbage can without so much as a doghouse roof over his head, one day this poor dejected little canine happened to stumble onto the parade ground on the campus of Yale University, where it just so happened that the men of the 102nd Regiment, 26th Infantry Division were training for their eventual deployment to fight in World War I. The so-pathetic-it\'s-adorable little dog-creature was taken in by a soldier named John Robert Conroy, who named the pup \"Stubby\" on account of the thing\'s little stumpy gimp tail (or maybe this is a common trait of pit bull terriers, I have no idea). Conroy started leaving food out and let the little guy sleep in the barracks from time to time, and before long pretty much every dude in the 102nd thought this thing was omg totez adorbs, etc. The dog, for its part, was also like insane-as-hell smart, and I don\'t mean like, \"Oh hey that dog thinks he\'s people because he sits in an armchair and licks beer coozies\" stuff, but more like, \"Holy crap balls Lassie\'s trying to tell us that Little Timmy fell down a well and is being slowly digested by a thousand rabid snakes sent forth from a rift in the Hellmouth,\" smart. After just a few weeks of hanging around the drill field, watching the soldiers do their thing, this friggin\' dog/Battle-Cat hybrid learned the damn bugle calls, could execute the marching maneuvers with the men, and was &ndash; I shit you not &ndash; trained to salute superior officers by raising his forepaw to his brow in what I can only imagine was a sight so cripplingly adorable that nowadays it would be an obnoxious, long-running Internet meme on one of these I Can Has Catburger websites.</p>\r\n<p>Private Stubby had free reign to drink out of any toilet bowl on the Yale campus during training, and when the order came down for the 102nd to ship out to battle Conroy just stuffed the dog into his greatcoat and smuggled him on board a ship bound for France. Once the transport was under way, Conroy brought the dog out onto the deck, and all the sailors all decided this dog was so totally flippin\' sweet that they had a machinists\' mate make him a set of dog tags to match the ones worn by the soldiers. When Conroy got a little sloppy and his weirdo covert dog smuggling operation was discovered commanding officer, Conroy gave the order to, \"Present Arms,\" the goddamned dog saluted the commander. The officer was like \"WTF ever\" and from that point on Stubby was officially allowed to follow Yankee Division out to the battlefront.</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/sgtstubby1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>This is where it gets good. Stubby became the official mascot of the American Expeditionary Force, and did his part to raise morale to the war-weary soldiers on the front lines. Ok, that\'s great, but during his tour of duty in Europe, Stubby also participated in 17 battles and four major offensives &ndash; including the St. Mihel, Meuse-Argonne, Aisne-Marne, and Champagne Marne campaigns. In February 1918, while fighting in a heated sector north of Soissons, Stubby found himself under constant artillery and sniper fire for over a month straight with no respite, responding by howling and barking in \"a battle rage\" every time gunshots started ringing out. He was wounded in action later that month in a chemical weapons attack, when the Germans launched some mustard gas that poisoned the little dog so hard it nearly died.</p>\r\n<p>But this was a badass pit bull, and it would take more than a lung full of poison gas to slow him down. Instead of croaking, Stubby became more hardcore &ndash; he\'d had his fill of getting the crap kicked out of him by chemical weapons, and thanks to his heightened sense of smell this little bastard could now sniff out mustard gas before it became lethal. From that point on, any time a gas canister exploded near American lines, the friggin\' dog would run up and down the trenches barking and biting men until they put their gas masks on, an act that saved countless lives. Once his comrades were properly masked-up, Stubby would run and hide until the gas cloud cleared (because this was back in the days before they\'d invented doggy chemical warfare hoods).</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/sgtstubby2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>In addition to providing early warning for chemical attacks, Stubby could also use his supersonic dog-hearing to detect artillery fire before the shells started exploding &ndash; a trait that earned him the gratitude of many men who probably would have been blown the hell up if it wasn\'t for this little guy\'s warnings. As if it wasn\'t awesome enough that he had some Peter Parker-style spider sense for incoming warheads, Stubby could sense German ground attacks &ndash; as soon as the Huns would go over the top, Stubby would sniff the bratwurst coming and run over and bite the nearest American sentry until that guy got off his ass and sounded the alarm. It didn\'t take long for the doughboys to learn that if the dog started going apeshit it was time to hit the deck, and from that point on the American trenches started to resemble the post-apocalyptic future scene from Terminator 2 where the humans used psycho dogs to let them know when Terminators were heading their way. Oh shit, I just remembered Arnold is Austrian, so that analogy has a whole other layer to it that I didn\'t intend when I originally wrote it.</p>\r\n<p>Well when this tiny tornado of life-saving awesomeness wasn\'t, you know, saving the lives of thousands of American soldiers by alerting them to imminent peril by land or by air, Stubby the Combat Canine spent a lot of his free time running around through No Man\'s Land looking for wounded and dying Allied soldiers to rescue. According to first-hand accounts, this dog could hear English being spoken (like, no shit, he could allegedly differentiate English from German), and he\'d immediately run over and check out the wounded man. If the dude was able to walk, Stubby would lead him back to friendly lines. If the guy was too jacked up to move, Stubby would stand there and bark until a medic arrived. Are you kidding me with this?</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/sgtstubby3.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Stubby the War Dog was wounded in combat in April 1918, when he was hit with a German hand grenade while participating in the assault on the German town of Schieprey (now there\'s a sentence I never thought I\'d write). Despite receiving shrapnel wounds to his forelimbs and chest, Stubby survived the grenade blast, lived through some emergency surgery, and spent his convalescence time cheering up the wounded men in the field hospital. He returned to action a few months later and helped participate in the liberation of Chateau Thierry, a deed that got the French babes living in the city so pumped up that they made him a chamois blanked decorated with the flags of the Allied countries to thank him. The men of the 102nd, for their part, made Stubby a jacket designed to look like an American military uniform, and then they decorated it with Stubby\'s name, rank, and medals &ndash; medals that included the Purple Heart, the Republic of France Grande War Medal, the Medal of Verdun, and medals for every campaign in which he\'d served.</p>\r\n<p>But this thing wasn\'t done yet. While serving in the Argonne Forest during the Meuse-Argonne campaign of September 1918, Stubby was patrolling the trenches when he discovered a camouflaged German spy hiding out mapping the Allied trenches. Stubby smelled the Kraut on this dude and started freaking the hell out, woofing at this dude like a damned psychotic bark machine, and nothing this poor chump could do to stop Stubby from freaking out on him. Finally, convinced that he wasn\'t going to shut the damn dog up, the German turned and ran for it. That was just the opportunity Stubby was looking for. The dog hauled ass, ran this guy down from behind, launched itself like a hair-covered missile, and bit into his calf, dropping the spy to the ground. Then Stubby bit the dude on the ass and locked his jaws shut, refusing to give this dude his ass back (or let him move in any way at all) until Americans showed up to arrest him. For his actions, Stubby the Ass-Biting Maniac Dog was given a battlefield promotion to the rank of Sergeant, which, awesomely enough, meant that the dog now outranked his owner, who was only a Corporal by this point. Stubby became the first dog to be promoted to a rank the army, and, as a bitchin\' side note, when the Americans brought the German spy back to camp they stripped the prisoner of his Iron Cross and pinned the German military medal on the dog\'s jacket instead.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/sgtstubby4.bmp\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span>Stubby being decorated by General \"Black Jack\" Pershing and First Lady Florence Harding.</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>After the war, Sergeant Stubby was smuggled back to the states, where he was an instant celebrity. He inducted into the American Legion, offered free food for life from the YMCA, and whenever he went out of war bonds promotion tours five-star hotels would relax their \"no dogs allowed\" policy for the canine war hero. He went to the White House twice, met three presidents, and in 1921 the American overall commander \"Black Jack\" Pershing personally pinned a one-of-a-kind \"Dog Hero Gold Medal\" on Stubby\'s military jacket.</p>\r\n<p>When Robert Conroy ended up attending Georgetown University for law school after the war, Sergeant Stubby went with him. The dog immediately became the official mascot of the football team &ndash; and to this day the University sports mascot is still a dog (though it think it\'s a bulldog these days). In addition to hanging out with the players and looking up cheerleaders\' skirts (maybe), it eventually became tradition to bring Stubby out on the field during Halftime of football games and he\'d pump the crowd up by running around the field pushing the ball around with his nose. Nobody had really done anything like this before, meaning that in a weird-as-hell Forrest Gump-like twist, Sergeant Stubby might have possibly invented the Halftime Show. Seriously.</p>\r\n<p>Sergeant Stubby, American war hero dog, died in 1926, at the (approximate) age of ten. Nowadays his taxidermized corpse is featured with its own exhibit at the Smithsonian\'s Museum of American History, which is simultaneously creepy, awesome, and the sort of thing that every man and animal in the country should aspire to.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/sgtstubby5.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<table style=\"width: 500px;\" align=\"center\">\r\n<tbody>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><span>Stubby joined up. One morning a bugle sounded the departure from camp. Crammed into a train loaded with equipment, he was started South. He knew not where he was speeding. His recent contacts with scholasticism, however, stood him in good stead. Tennyson had said something memorable - \"His not to reason why, his but to do and die\".</span></td>\r\n</tr>\r\n</tbody>\r\n</table>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links/Sources:</span><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://www.ct.gov/mil/cwp/view.asp?a=1351&amp;q=257958\">NY Times Obituary</a><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://www.ct.gov/mil/cwp/view.asp?a=1351&amp;q=257892\">Connecticut Military Department</a><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://americanhistory.si.edu/militaryhistory/collection/object.asp?ID=15\">Smithsonian Institue</a><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://www.governorsfootguard.com/stubby/\">Governor\'s Foot Guard</a><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://stubbydog.org/2011/05/a-heros-nature/\">StubbyDog.org</a><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sergeant_Stubby\">Wikipedia</a></p>','2011-11-11','28657191740','sgtstubby.jpg','sgtstubby4.bmp','Sergeant Stubby','Pit bull terrier who saved hundreds of lives in WWI.','\"The noise and strain that shattered the nerves of many of his comrades did not impair Stubby\'s spirits. Not because he was unconscious of danger. His angry howl while a battle raged and his mad canter from one part of the lines to another indicated realization.\"\r\n\r\n- New York Times Obituary'),('Tr&#7845;n H&#432;ng &#272;&#7841;o','1228','1330','Hanoi, Vietnam','Medieval Vietnamese General','<p>Tr&#7845;n H&#432;ng &#272;&#7841;o is the national hero of Vietnam and one of the greatest unsung heroes of military history. A bone-crunching asskicker who would rather have unhesitatingly suffered a violent, horrific death at the business end of a pack of gigantic man-sized demon leeches than dishonor his badass reputation in the most trivial sort of way, this guy forged a rag-tag band of untrained citizen-soldiers into the world\'s first guerrilla army, and then led them head-first into an all-out war with the Invincible Mongol Horde during the height of the Khans\' power. And, amazingly, thanks to his unstoppable military genius, a couple flaming boats, and a few thousand bamboo poles tipped with iron spikes, he won.</p>\r\n<p>Tr&#7845;n, who I will from here on out refer to as Tran Hung Dao (yes, I realize this is a total rape and pillage of the Vietnamese language, but if I have to navigate the Character Map for those letters every time I want to write the dude\'s name it\'s going to take me a month and a half to write this thing), was one in a line of Vietnamese shitkickers who didn\'t let idiotic bullshittery stand in the way of their quest for badass awesomeness. His great uncle had been the Imperial Regent for the Vietnamese Ly Dynasty (meaning that he was basically like Jaffar from <em>Aladdin</em>), and when Uncle Tran decided that Emperor Ly was a total waste of human skin surrounding a vapid core of solid congealed dumbass, he usurped the throne, forced the Emperor to become a monk, married the Princess off to his nephew, and then spent the next couple years surfing the corpses of his vanquished political rivals out of Saigon on a river of blood (Note: This was back when Charlie still surfed). Tran Hung Dao therefore became a Prince, and this stone-cold stunner\'s no-bullshit attitude and ability to bend a pair of scissors in half with his biceps made him perfect for the job of Supreme Military Grand Warlord Commander of Vietnam.</p>\r\n<p>Well things in \'Nam were going fine until the year 1271 when Kublai Khan &ndash; grandson of Genghis, Great Khan of the Mongols, and scourge of English Literature students everywhere &ndash; completed his mission to drive over the armies of Imperial China with a steamroller and install his own dynasty on the throne of what had up until recently been the world\'s wealthiest empire. Now, of course, if you know anything about the 13th century Mongols, you know that they weren\'t exactly a laid-back group of individuals who were content to sit back with infinite wealth and chill in their gold-plated mansions when there were still people out there that needed killing, and it wasn\'t long before the emissaries of this unstoppable, seemingly-invincible Mongol Horde came knocking on the doors of the Vietnamese capital with a simple offer &ndash; surrender or die.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/tranhungdao1.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Tran Hung Dao had already been the Supreme Commander of the Vietnamese army for a few years when Kublai Khan\'s goons came strolling into town yelling a bunch of jibber-jabber bullshit nonsense about coughing up tribute and forking over precious silks and sending hot babes back to Beijing to be boned non-stop by the Khan, and needless to say he wasn\'t too happy about it. The Emperor (Tran\'s uncle) presented his country\'s number-one badass with the simple facts of the situation &ndash; the Mongols had half a million dudes battle-hardened by decades of constant war against the most powerful nations in the world, ruled over an Empire consisting of tens of millions of subjects, and had never been defeated on the field of battle by anyone ever. The Vietnamese had 200,000 farmers armed with pitchforks and sticks who were more comfortable harvesting rice than face-punching douchebags. Maybe surrender was the best option.</p>\r\n<p>Fuck no. For centuries the kings and queens of the land known as Dai Viet had fought a never-ending death feud with the Emperors of China, and the Vietnamese are a tough, resilient group of people living in a borderline-inhospitable death-jungle &ndash;these guys were no stranger to battling back invasion, and Tran Hung Dao wasn\'t going to let them start bending over and taking it on his watch. Tran responded by busting out a total mega pump-up speech so hardcore it would have given George S. Patton a boner, ripped his shirt off Hulkamania-style, and then sent the Mongol emissary back to his masters with a Vietnamese arrow sticking out of his eye (and a giant erect penis drawn on his chest in purple Sharpie). The men who witnessed these three acts of Ultimate Manliness were so fucking psyched up by his speech that they all went out and got \"Death to the Mongols\" tattooed on their arms (no kidding, they seriously did this) and I of course can think of nothing more awesome than launching yourself into combat after getting a 13th century stick-and-poke tattoo swearing vengeance on the enemy of your homeland.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/tranhungdao2.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<table style=\"width: 864px; height: 162px;\" align=\"center\">\r\n<tbody>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td><span><span>And now, you remain calm when your emperor is humiliated; you remain indifferent when your country is threatened! You, officers, are forced to serve the barbarians and you feel no shame! You hear the music played for their ambassadors and you do not leap up in anger. No, you amuse yourselves at the cockfights, in gambling, in the possession of your gardens and rice fields, and in the tranquility of family life... if the enemy comes, will your cocks\' spurs be able to pierce his armor? Will the ruses you use in your games of chance be of use in repulsing him? Will the love of your wives and children be of any use in the Army? Your money would neither suffice to buy the enemy\'s death, your alcohol to besot him, nor your music to deafen him.</span></span>\r\n<p>All of us, you and I together, would then be taken prisoner... And not only would I lose my fief, but your property too would fall into enemy hands. It would not be my family alone that would be driven out, but your wives and children would also be reduced to slavery. It would not be only the graves of my ancestors that would be trampled under the invader\'s heel, but those of your ancestors would also be violated. I would be humiliated in this life and in a hundred others to come, and my name would be ignominiously tarnished. Your family\'s honor would also be sullied forever with the shame of your defeat. Tell me: Could you then indulge yourselves in pleasures?<br /><br /></p>\r\n<center>- Speech to his General Staff prior to the Mongol Invasion of Vietnam</center></td>\r\n</tr>\r\n</tbody>\r\n</table>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>But Kublai Khan was not impressed. In 1285 he sent his ungodly-tremendor huge force of bona-fide professional ball-crushing hardasses across the border into Vietnam, where they immediately proceeded to put their dicks in the mashed potatoes the same way they\'d put their dicks in pretty much everything and everyone else in the world up to this point. Surprisingly enough, the sweet tats and iron testicles of the Vietnamese didn\'t offer much protection against catapults, composite recurve shortbows, and the mashing hooves of trample-happy evil demon-horses, and within a few months the Mongols ripped the Vietnamese defenses apart, massacred the entire population of the capital (present-day Hanoi), and burned the entire city to the ground &ndash; only some quick thinking by Tran Hung Dao saved the Emperor, and only then when Tran personally hacked his way out of the city with the Imperial family running close behind him in a scene that must have resembled a 13th century Vietnamese version of Arnold shouting \"GET TO DA CHOPPAAAAHHHH!!\" at the end of <em>Predator</em>.</p>\r\n<p>In the overwrought Hollywood movie version of Tran\'s life, this is the point where they play the sad music, the hero gazes despairingly off into the distance, and it seems like this guy is totally boned beyond all comprehensive meaning of the word boned. The main body of the army had been crushed. Prominent generals were either deserting, defecting to the enemy, or being executed for not deserting and/or defecting, and any POWs caught sporting those sweet \"Death to the Mongols\" tattoos were beheaded on the spot. The King, looking at his shattered army, said to his beloved general, \"The enemy is so strong that a protracted war might bring terrible destruction down upon the people. Wouldn\'t it be better-to lay down our arms to save the population?\"</p>\r\n<p>Tran Hung Dao answered: \"If you want to surrender, you\'ll have to cut my head off first.\"</p>\r\n<p>This wasn\'t the end. It was just getting started. Cue the pump-up music and montage of John Rambo grabbing extra M-16 magazines and tying a bandana around his head.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/tranhungdao3.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span>This is what comes up when you run a<br />Google Image Search for \"Vietnamese Martial Arts\".</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Ok, yes, he\'d been defeated, but now Tran had seen what this strange force of alien invaders had to offer &ndash; and he adapted to fight them. Tran decided to say fuck this, \"meet them in open combat and watch them trample all my men\'s balls into sludge\" shit &ndash; instead of going toe-to-toe in a battle he couldn\'t win, his army disappeared into the jungle &ndash; and nobody fucking fights in the jungle quite like the Vietnamese. From hidden bases in the jungle these warriors launched coordinated raids against Mongol supply trains, hammered critical outposts, and then vanished back into thin air before the Mongols could figure out what the damn hell was going on. When the Mongols approached a town, Tran had it evacuated, ordered the fleeing citizens to burn anything they couldn\'t carry, and left the Khan\'s men a big smoldering wasteland to conquer. When the Mongols brought a massive force together for a coordinated attack, Tran tricked them into fighting in waist-deep mud, where their horses were more of a pain in the balls than a help and the jungle warriors of Vietnam could run right up to them and impale their riders on sharpened stakes. This is guerilla fucking warfare at its finest, folks, and Tran Hung Dao is doing this shit in the goddamned 13th century at a time when the fucking crossbow was considered high-tech weaponry.</p>\r\n<p>Frustrated by the enemy, out of supplies, and dying from cholera and other horrible tropical diseases, the Mongols said \"fuck it,\" and started an all-out retreat. Then, just like the Russians would do to Napoleon a few hundred years later, Tran ran up and asshumped them &ndash; hammering the retreating, demoralized enemy and inflicting massive destruction on them every single step of their way back to Beijing. By 1286 the decimated Mongol force crossed back in China, and Tran personally led the detachment that liberated the capital.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/tranhungdao4.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span>Greatest statue ever?</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>Kublai was fucking pissed, and in 1287 he came back to finish the job. This time, however, the main thrust of his attack was a massive naval invasion of 500 gigantic Chinese-built warships sailing up the Bach Dang River into the heart of Vietnam. This ridiculous armada hauled ass towards the center of the Vietnamese countryside, bypassing the jungles and swamps that had caused the land forces so much trouble, and this time around all that stood in their way was a tiny, rag-tag fleet of flat-bottomed Vietnamese ships that resembled canoes rather than badass war frigates. The Mongols took one look at this pathetic Vietnamese navy and ordered a full-scale attack. The Vietnamese fought back for a short while, but it was obvious they were totally outclassed so they dropped their shit ran for it like crazy. The Mongols pursued, eager to crush their enemies once and for all.</p>\r\n<p>Then the tide went out. And, unfortunately for our pals the Mongols, in the days leading up to the battle Tran had planted a bunch of gigantic fucking scary-looking bronze-tipped bamboo spikes in the river bed, basically turning the entire river into a nasty aquatic punji pit. The small Vietnamese boats were fine, but the Mongol ships were immediately impaled &ndash; those that didn\'t sink outright were hung up like pi&ntilde;atas waiting to be whacked into debris.</p>\r\n<p>It was then that the fire boats showed up. Dozens of burning ships, sailing straight into the middle of the Mongol formation, lighting everything they passed on fire and then crashing into the helpless enemy vessels. As if that wasn\'t enough, Tran had also pre-positioned archers on the river banks, and once the trap was sprung those suckers started pelting the fleet with fire arrows as well, turning one of the largest invasion fleets in Medieval history into basically one gigantic raging inferno of charred wood and burning corpses. The Mongols lost 400 ships and 80,000 men in a single day &ndash; including their Admiral, who was captured and executed (Kublai\'s own son only survived by hiding in a drainage ditch). The Vietnamese lost 4,000 soldiers.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/tranhungdao5.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /><br /><span>\"When the enemy advances roaring like fire and wind, it is easy to overcome them.\"</span></p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p>The Vietnamese King offered peace, returned all the Mongol POWs, and said, \"don\'t fuck with us again.\" They didn\'t. Kublai called his troops home and the Mongols never returned.</p>\r\n<p>Tran was so badass that he would be proclaimed not only a national hero, but a living god, and his portrait would be worshipped in Buddhist temples across Vietnam (and, to a lesser degree, still is today). He would go on to write a number of books on military strategy that are still relevant today, and his forward-thinking theories on guerilla war influenced commanders like Vo Nguyen Giap &ndash; a dude who used Tran\'s style of combat quite effectively as commander of the NVA during Vietnam\'s recent wars against the forces of Western democracy.</p>\r\n<p>Tran Hung Dao died in 1300 at age 73 and his ashes were spread under his favorite oak tree. His death anniversary is a national holiday in Vietnam.</p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p align=\"center\"><img src=\"http://www.badassoftheweek.com/tranhungdao6.jpg\" alt=\"\" vspace=\"8\" /></p>\r\n<table align=\"center\">\r\n<tbody>\r\n<tr>\r\n<td>\r\n<p><span>\"Every century has produced heroes who have sacrificed their lives for their country.<br />If they had remained at home to die by the fire, would their names have been inscribed <br />on bamboo and silk to live eternally in Heaven and on the Earth?\" </span></p>\r\n</td>\r\n</tr>\r\n</tbody>\r\n</table>\r\n<p>&nbsp;</p>\r\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Links:</span><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://freedomforvietnam.wordpress.com/2010/07/23/tr%E1%BA%A7n-h%C6%B0ng-d%E1%BA%A1o-and-the-mongol-invasions/\">Freedom for Vietnam</a><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/602242/Tran-Hung-Dao\">Britannica Online</a><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://www.vietmedia.com/history/?L=tranhungdao.html\">Vietnamese History</a><br /><br /> <a href=\"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tr%E1%BA%A7n_H%C6%B0ng_%C4%90%E1%BA%A1o\">Wikipedia</a></p>\r\n<p><br /> <span style=\"color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-small;\">Sources:</span><br /><br /><span> Chapuis, Oscar. <em>A History of Vietnam</em>. Greenwood, 1995. <br /><br /> Clarke, Bruce B.G. <em>Expendable Warriors</em>. Greenwood, 2007. <br /><br /> <em>History of Vietnam</em>. eM Publications, 2010.<br /><br /> Marr, David G. <em>Vietnamese Anticolonialism</em>. Univ. of California Press, 1990. </span></p>','2011-11-18','64704252382','tranhungdao.jpg','tranhungdao6.jpg','Tr&#7845;n H&#432;ng &#272;&#7841;o','Vietnamese commander who defeated the Mongols by impaling their fleet on iron stakes.','\"In the face of these dangers to the Fatherland, I fail to eat during the day and to sleep at night. Tears roll down my cheeks and my heart bleeds as if it were being cut to shreds. I tremble with anger because I cannot eat our enemy\'s flesh, lie down in his skin, chew up his liver, and drink his blood. I would gladly surrender my life a thousand times on the field of battle if I could do these things.\"'),