Last summer, I was on the escalator out of a D.C. Metro station, somewhere near The Mall, and I was riding the escalator standing sideways. When I got to the top, I tried to get off, but my flip-flop had become lodged in the space between the step I was on and the metal thingy with teeth at the top. In my efforts to remove it, I lost nearly half the sandal, which now looks like nothing so much as if a shark bit it.
Not heights, but falling. I've always loved climbing all over stuff, I love flying, I love tall buildings, but I'll scramble all the way down a tree rather than jump down four feet from the lowest branch.
Actually, most examples of fecundity are creepy (like Belle mentions in the other blog). I once had a wake-up-screaming nightmare about a giant mushroom/fungus that was enveloping my whole body.
1. death (though it's more that it makes me really, really sad to think about it than precisely afraid)
2. being alone (same might be true)
3. being like my parents, especially my mom (same might be true)
Also, like LB, I don't like to jump from things, though I'm fine with heights.
My escalator near disasters:
1. At National Airport, I was on a down escalator behind a woman with a really large bag. She got off the escalator but left her bag behind. There were people behind me so I couldn't back up to avoid getting deposited right on top of it and about five of us all got dumped off and kind of stacked up on top of the bag before we could push it out of the way.
2. At the stupid AMC Theater Times Square, they have a series of escalator switchbacks to save space where you get off of one down escalator and then get on another down escalator going the opposite direction. It wasn't until we got on the escalator that we realized the people at the bottom weren't getting off the first one and onto the second one fast enough and people were getting kind of piled on top of one another. And the people at the top of the escalator couldn't see this was happening so more people just kept getting on. Aaaah.
Y'know, I honestly can't come up with a single thing that I'm irrationally afraid of.
I don't think of myself as especially afraid of heights, but I am afraid of sheer, steep drops. A height that slopes away from my feet is fine; one that goes straight down, no, no, no. So a couple of years ago at the Grand Canyon I was really surprised (and kind of amused, but mostly terrified) to find that I couldn't walk closer to the edge than a couple of yards. Mr. B. and PK went a little ways down the Bright Angel Trail (which is about two feet wide, I swear); I went about twenty feet and then crept slowly back, clinging as closely to the wall as I could.
The corrolary is that I'm absolutely petrified of PK getting close to drops of that nature. He wanted to walk along the edge of the canyon, and I was practically having heart attacks. In Chicago a few months ago we went for a walk along the piers beside Lakeshore Drive, and PK was running along enjoying the water spraying up from the lake, and I was horrified that he'd lose his footing on the wet edge and fall in.
most examples of fecundity are creepy
Hmmm, Herr Drymala. Und vhy do you sink zat iss?
I dunno exactly, but Annie Dillard has a great essay on the topic in Pilgrim at Tinker Creek.
Growing old and dying without having done anything meaningful in my life.
And hey, how come it's my phobia that gets singled out for the Viennese treatment?
8: Who wants to fundraise for a camera crew to follow Becks around? The ad revenues would pay for themselves, the site hosting, and ponies all around.
Because MK's phobia is just depressing. And cockroaches are icky.
Also: I have a fairly constant irrational worry/dread about that a woman I don't know or have just met or have known for a while and secretly lusted after will proposition me for sex, and then I'll have to figure out how to get out of the situation without (a) being unfaithful to TMW, (b) hurting the fragile feelings of the lovely woman, (c) ruining my chances to have sex with the lovely woman. Hey I said it was irrational ok?
I'm much like bphd on heights -- if there's a railing up to about my waist I'm fine, but if not I'm keeping well away from the edge. Even if there's no risk of falling; I am not fond of glass elevators.
I don't know if phobia is the right word, but I have a severe revulsion to sprouting vegetables, e.g., potatoes with eyes or garlic or onions with shoots. I take that back—phobia is the right word, I shiver just thinking about the greens.
I'm cool with glass elevators.
TMK, wanna fuck?
I am occasionally uncontrollably afraid of down escalators, especially if I am wearing very high heels. MLA in Philly was awful (and will be awful this year) because the convention center has the single most terrifying four-story, speedy, steep escalator I've ever seen. There is no other way down.
Recently, at a movie in Union Square with the bf, I couldn't concentrate during the film at all because I was panicking about having to go down the escalator. By the time we tried to board it, I was shaking so hard I had to back up and explain to the ticket guy, in tears, that I needed to use the elevator or I would crack up.
ALSO: I have a phobia about people entering my apartment with not enough notice to clean it. I live a very cluttered (but generally not "filthy") life in my little room, and there is almost never a reason for anyone to come in here, so when it does happen, I have a little panic attack.
Aside from these two things, I am cool as a cucumber in situations that would make most other people blanch in terror.
B, you and TMK should go fuck at AWB's place. With Forrest Gump playing in the background.
are the two statements in 21 related? If so, please tell us where you will be appearing.
And if either B or TMK has a toe fungus, they shouldn't get it treated.
Hiya B, all. Anyone fancy a go in the glass elevator?
Speaking of absent commenters, what happened to Tweedledopey?
27: Then by implication you consent to the rest of the arrangement?
1. pigeons
2. death
But you repeat yourself, dear text.
You know, Dahl's The Great Glass Elevator has a wealth of really kinky subtext. . . .
29 -- isn't he gswift nowadays?
Drat, did you say "death"? I could have sworn it was "sex".
I'm afraid of swarms of plague-infected rats, as are most reasonable people.
This ObWi thread on phobias is intermittantly amusing; Edward_'s paralyzing fear of whales that kicks it off consistently cracks me up, though I know that's not nice to admit.
isn't he gswift nowadays?
No, jvance.
Oh crap. I shoud've clicked through to Belle's post first.
Birds.
And I'm not sure being scared of your kids falling off things is irrational, is it? We walked over the bridge from Niagara Falls, Canada to Niagara Falls, USA when my eldest was about 21 months and *very* into swimming and jumping in. We stopped in the middle, and she looked out from where she was strapped very securely into the stroller, and said "[her name for herself] jump?" and I nearly threw up.
Oh -- sorry, gswift and jvance (wherever you might be).
TMK, I've been thinking about your proposition phobia, and it occurs to me that I have recurring nightmares about this very situation, although I have no problem with it while awake. In my dreams, someone other than my boyfriend shows a keen interest, and I'm compelled to give in a little by making out, which leads to fooling around, which leads to hot sex, and then the rest of the dream is a horrible series of lies, recriminations, and crying.
I don't know if our dreams are indications of our phobias, though. I have tons of dreams about being murdered in various circumstances, and I'm not afraid of it in my waking life.
Y'all should see the escalators in the Moscow subway. Holy shit.
see the escalators in the Moscow subway.
Not scary, soporific.
40 - The best way to overcome a phobia is to confront it, of course.
Call me.
45, in the dream it's usually a chick.
If you want to get better, you're going to have to think outside the box.
No no, it only works to confront the stimulus you fear. Call me.
Oh, great. Now I'm going to have weird Mineshaft Orgy dreams.
Every time I smell something burning, I fear there's a fire in my apartment. Even when I'm nowhere near my apartment.
Oh, yeah, the crackly sound that sounds like fire. I almost burned my house down with an advent wreath in college.
Oh, yeah. I get all freaked out by the smell of smoke, too. Then again, my dorm caught on fire when I was in college so there's at least a legit reasoning for that.
(Hmm...I'm beginning to wonder if I have some kind of bad luck aura following me around.)
I'm deeply paranoid about spoiled food. I occasionally have fits of throwing out perfectly good food because it's been in the fridge for a while and I'm convinced it's about to go bac.
I've not been around any in a long time, but I used to be very nervous around cactus after a few traumatic episodes when I was a toddler, and fell onto one forward, got one on my hand, and fell onto one on my back (my mother kept them).
My friends in Phoenix thought it was hilarious when I was 19 to drive me out to the desert and lead me around a bunch.
Also rather paranoid about poison ivy in the woods, for similar reasons and multiple experiences of being whole-body inflicted as a child.
Then there's my thing about saying stupid things and unintentionally offensive and condescending things in blog comment threads, causing people to hate me, or at least dislike me.
Fear of running out of money to pay for rent or food: not so much a paranoia; more a way of life; I get particularly worried about food whenever I have less than $100, which is to say, most of the time; less than $50, which is to say, much of the time: worse.
Note that this doesn't go well with #1.
And I'm a little nervous near heights, though not so much that I don't do them; I used to lean out against the glass on the observation deck of the World Trade Center; but it did make my stomach flutter. I'm not thrilled when I go up ladders, but I do do it. Nervously.
I'm not so much afraid of being alone but do fear being alone. Now that I'm no longer in the kind of shape I used to be in I worry more at the edge of cliffs and other high places. But I had no problems going up and down narrow trails in the Grand Canyon when I went backpacking there in high school. Same with the cables on Half-Dome, which would now freak me out.
I used to run down the escalators at the Rosslyn metro station, frequently skipping steps along the way.
"Oh, yeah. I get all freaked out by the smell of smoke, too. Then again, my dorm caught on fire when I was in college so there's at least a legit reasoning for that."
I used to get rather paranoid about fire, having lived through three experiences of my building being on fire, including one where I was trapped in my fifth floor apartment, unable to get down the stairs, due to the intensity of the flames (the utter carbon blackness from the smoke didn't help, but it was the heat that clinched it), and had to get out through the fire escape, jumping down through flames coming heavily out the window of the apartment below me, clambering down the iron escape in the dead of winter with tons of snow and ice, in my shorts and barefoot, which made it hard to haul the bottom ladder up enough to get it to drop, and then jumping the last way down -- but only very slightly burned.
But that was 1991, and I haven't been really paranoid in years. Though I am alert if I smell smoke or hear an alarm.
Come to think of it, from the last months of 2001 through about the end of 2003, I tended to freak out when jets roared overhead low, but I've mostly stopped being bothered by that, too.
Mostly.
And I'm slightly hypochondriacal, but with cause.
Man, turns out I'm one fun dude.
Like a few others I'm not overly keen on heights although I am able to largely act as if they don't bother me and pretend I am OK with them (even when I'm not). These days it's largely only tall ladders that bother me -- I no longer get worried by high buildings or balconies, etc.
I'm also not keen on large barking dogs -- a dog tried pretty hard to kill me once when I was about 13 -- although, again, I can pretend to be OK with them (even when I'm not).
There are several other fears like that where as I've gotten older I've just repressed them, in many cases to the point where unless I'm actually reminded of them, I don't feel them at all.
The only one that remains is amusement park rides, roller-coasters and so on. I won't go on them.
In my early teens I went all the way round a fancy rollercoaster with the over-the-shoulder harness thing not properly fastened, loose and rocking about as, due to some error or other, it hadn't locked. If I let go of it, it opened. Major white knuckle time all the way round -- total concentration on holding on to the restraints, if i hadn't held on for dear life I'd have come out. Never again.
it's been in the fridge for a while and I'm convinced it's about to go bac.
I like the idea that food eventually graduates.
For balance, I'm fine with escalators (though I once barely averted a major escalator disaster at a huge convention I was working on running, by about 6 seconds), and will happily be near non-poisonous snakes, kill (or remove) spiders for you, and generally play well around lots of things people are phobic about.
I really, really hate bridges, especially the ones with a metal grating instead of a properly opaque roadbed. I drive across the Tobin Bridge several times a week, and must stay in the centerlane. Thank god it's opaque. It makes me shudder just to think about a Tobin-like bridge with a metal grid roadbed. aaaaah!
I am terrified of both heights and flying.
When I was in high school, my father tried to get me to climb up on the roof to do some damn thing or another. I got four rungs up the ladder and froze. "You're not five feet off the ground," he said, and I snapped, "Tell that to my vertigo." The mere thought of watching a gulf yawn out underneath me gives me the light willies. If a scene comes up in a movie where Our Hero is hanging by one hand over the canyon/street/whatever, and I'm not ready for it, I will have to cover my eyes until I get my balance back.
The last time I flew, it was from Vegas. There was a drunk lady on our plane who had to be wheeled on in a wheelchair because she'd done something terrible to her ankle (it was swollen and electric purple) and she was cussing and demanding her smokes and various things the whole way home. There was also a large family of rednecks who had ignored the assigned seating in order to be near one another, who then pitched a huge fit at the flight crew when asked to move to their proper seats. As an indicator of their state, their skinhead cousin with Tourette's had to be the diplomat and negotiate an agreeable end to the stand-off. Then, halfway home, the crew came on and announced that all the bathrooms were broken and we'd have to hold it the rest of the way. Oh, and the cabin leaked a little, so no one's ears would stop popping. And out of all of that, I was the one the attendants thought would be a problem. Instead I drank heavily and passed out.
I also get pretty wigged by the aliens in the Alien films (yes, even the stupid fourth one). I always have to make someone hold my hand when I watch one of those movies. But I love those flicks, so I do it anyway.
"I also get pretty wigged by the aliens in the Alien films (yes, even the stupid fourth one)."
How about Alien vs. Predator?
I love to fly: if you like, you can send me your tickets, and I'll fly for you.
Re: heights. I'm an adrenaline junkie.
The first time I visited Toronto, I went up the CN Tower and had pictures taken of me lying down across the chain link fence that stretches out over the open drop. Other people screamed and hugged the tower.
How about Alien vs. Predator?
Oh, please. I have not watched it. I watched Forrest Gump, yeah, but I'm not a masochist.
Also, apostropher? I think I would have fainted just watching.
Rolling over and looking down was one of the biggest rushes I have ever experienced. Very nearly an out of body experience.
I remember a glass floor on the CN tower, but no chain link fence. I was there in 2003? Maybe I just missed it?
I'm sure I was there in 2003. Don't know why I wrote "?"
This was 1990. Maybe I ruined it for everybody.
Or 1989. College is a little blurry.
Coral reef creatures like rays and moray eels and sea squirts, etc., give me the creeps. I have carefully organized my life so that I never go within 2000 miles of a coral reef. This accounts for some of my inexplicable behavior.
That reminds me: swimming in murky water, swimming in unlit areas at night.
Also: never being able to stop procrastinating on doing things that are important to me and that I actually do want to do.
I worry that my depression will get so bad that I lose my job and can't support my family. (Note: not a likely scenario, thanks to meds, but man that makes for a fucker of a dream.)
On the other hand: heights, ledges, snakes, spiders, amusement park rides=no problem. Also, apo: if you think rolling over empty space while attached to something solid is a rush (and I'm not disputing it), try jumping out of an airplane. Your brain will be surging with adrenaline for hours, even days.
try jumping out of an airplane
That's on tap for the 40th birthday.
73: I worry less about losing my job than about becoming the self-involved narcissist my own mother was, where my depression just incapacitates me from being able to attend to PK's emotional needs.
72 reminds me... swimming in freshwater freaks me out. Ocean? Fine. Pools? Fine. Lakes? *Shudder*
The most terrifying experience I have ever had was rolling over in bed and thinking I had just smothered my infant daughter. She was a very deep sleeper, and the few seconds it took to confirm that she was, in fact, still breathing felt like years. This left me with an extreme phobia of my children dying in their sleep. Now, four years later, I still end up waking up in the middle of the night at least once a night and checking to make sure she's breathing.
This experience also makes me dissent from the consensus about of Darth Vader's "Noooooooo!" at the end of Episode 3. Contrary to the popular view that real people don't say that, my reaction was exactly that cliched yell (followed by the crying of a baby who was perfectly fine, but didn't want to wake up to Daddy yelling.)
Big Ben! Long time, no see, amigo.
Apo,
I'm always here, I just rarely delurk. Because of the time zone difference, most conversations tend to be over by the time I get to them, and my brain is never awake enough in the mornings to comment at mineshaft-level wit, so I usually just read.
Wherein I prove that I'm a freak (not for the phobias, but maybe for having them itemized):
1) All bugs except ladybugs and small moths and butterflies. Cockroaches cause me to freak right the fuck out, as do spiders. Snakes are out, too. Actually, this includes most small living things.
2) I have a similar problem to B; sheer edges freak me out. This can be on a cliff, a high hill, a hoodoo, PPG 1 near the windows, a balcony, a lookout point, and an incline car. I enjoy climbing, but 'Whatever you do, don't look down' may have been invented for me.
3) I am terrified of crossing bridges if I a) the bridge does not have a railing b) if the bridge is angled such that all you can see is the horizon or c) if the bridge is made of a material that has small holes so you can see down to d) the water or e) the cars underneath you.
3a) I grew up in a county with 2800 bridges. (This is a phobia that has been mostly mastered because I had to.)
4) I am terrified of takeoffs while flying, especially if the plane banks sharply and all I can see is sky. I fly all the time because I like to go places, but most flights I'm pretty close to freaking out. This is why there is rum.
Deformed faces...the most interesting development recently being how surprisingly disturbing an upside-down, intact face on a right-side-up head is. (That's a face-perception demo somewhere, on a page that also involves instances of the "Margaret Thatcher illusion", which frankly I'm not going to do y'all the favor of Googling for you. You want it, go find it. Warning: the canonical version is, to my perception, mild compared to what some people who really want to freak you out have come up with.)
heights/edges/falling. I don't like standing on chairs. I stay near the center of tall buildings, will not go to the glass windows. The freaking beach scares me. I probably wake up 2-3 times a week with a nightmare of falling, or more accurately, approaching a cliff. I have only flown once.
Not at all fastidious, I prefer to eat many things with knife-and-fork that others eat with their hands. Burgers. Chicken. Pizza. Sticky fingers are acceptable in other circumstances.
I share the fear of edges, but won't hesitate to hurl myself off some high object (usually into water, but sometimes sand, or even grass if I can do that rolling thing upon landing).
However, the coincidence of this parachuting accident with this other one over the weekend has me firmly afraid of doing anything that involves a parachute (except maybe that game from kindergarten).
I have actually trained myself to have a few phobias that seem handy. Like, every time I am leaving my apartment and about to shut my door, I suddenly gasp and shout (in my brain) Holyfuckwherethefuckaremykeys?! Then, I look down in my hand, or into my bag, and verify that they are there. I touch them with my hand to calm myself down, then I shut my door.
I also have a routine freakout called Holyfuckwherethefuckismywallet?! and another called Holyfuckwherethefuckismycellphone?! They are fully functional phobias, crafted with love and self-care.
You folks are aware that if there's a reason for it, it's not a phobia, right? (Actually, most of the fears in this thread seem to really be phobias. But some are probably not.)
Contrary to the popular view that real people don't say that, my reaction was exactly that cliched yell
Well crown me with a lily and call me Agnes!
I think even rational fears have the potential to be considered phobias when there is little to no stimulus for the reaction and the reaction is greatly exaggerated and physical (heart pounding, shortness of breath, etc.).
Oh yeah! Fire.
I can get near a flame, but I can't light anything that requires my fingers to approach the flame. At one point I was able to light wooden matches (though not paper ones), because my father forced me to do it once over my sobbing protest (I was a teenager), and that experience desensitized me, but now it's been long enough that I don't know if I could do it at this point. I have never in my life lit a paper match or a lighter.
try jumping out of an airplane.
In my limited (the 5 jumps required to get my parachutist wings), the only scary part about parachuting is jumping out and waiting for your chute properly to deploy (I understand in sport jumping this may be two very separate events). Coming down is very cool and I do not remember anyone ever saying that they found it particularly scary (though landing can be worrisome in the "I hope I do not break an ankle" sense).
(while I do not consider it a phobia, because it is quite reasonable to do so, I have to admit I found going out the door to be very unnerving)
Oh, and I wasn't around for the earlier discussion, but I share the difficulty with watching embarrassing/humiliating situations, mainly when they're just believable enough to seem like something from real life.
scary part about parachuting is jumping out
Similarly, the ocean is only wet due to all that water in it. Otherwise, perfectly dry.
I can't think of my phoboas now--though I'm sure that I have them. I agree with Armsmasher that sprouting vegeatbles, that is vegetables sprouting in your kitchen are creepy. Poyayoes are npt per se creepy.
I did want to comment on the fact that ogged appeaed n Belle's thread. *Sigh*. I miss him.
re 91 OK smarty pants. The fact is, there are many parts of a parachute jump, going out the door is only one (albeit unavoidable) part. And it is over very quickly, particularly if you are jumping out of a jet.
"Over very quickly" somehow doesn't make jumping out of a plane sound reassuring.
It's a shame, because otherwise it sounds like fun, but I don't think there's anything on earth that could make me jump out of an airplane.
God, I meant to write that potatoes are not creepy per se.
I don't think there's anything on earth that could make me jump out of an airplane.
It's not that scary--I did it and I refuse to go on roller coasters, something you have told me that you like to do. And besides, it generates great moments like these:
Student: Sergeant, if my main chute malfunctions, how long do I have to deploy my reserve?
Instructor: The rest of your life.
Yeah, yeah. Roller coasters are attached to the ground. Firmly.
Roller coasters are attached to the ground
Well of course they are. You see, it's the ground that's the problem. Few parachutists hurt themselves running into the air.
"However, the coincidence of this parachuting accident with this other one over the weekend has me firmly afraid of doing anything that involves a parachute (except maybe that game from kindergarten)."
I have a friend whose father was killed in front of her and her mother when his parachute didn't open; they watched from the ground. And her mother promptly died of a heart attack, he added helpfully.
Another friend's brother had his hand bitten off by a shark.
I'm not making any of this up.
I'm now prepared however, to, as a service to all: fly for you, go on rollar coasters for you, move your snakes and spiders, kill your bugs, walk over bridges for you, ride escalators for you, and sleep with your (much much older) daughters.
In return, I ask only that you make sure I have enough food and medications, and that no food rots in my refrigerator.
I'm now prepared however, to, as a service to all: fly for you, go on rollar coasters for you, move your snakes and spiders, kill your bugs, walk over bridges for you, ride escalators for you, and sleep with your (much much older) daughters.
An early draft of the love theme from Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves.
Wait, who had the sleeping-with-one's-own-daughters phobia?
I think even rational fears have the potential to be considered phobias when there is little to no stimulus for the reaction and the reaction is greatly exaggerated and physical (heart pounding, shortness of breath, etc.).
Yeah, this seems reasonable. I was speaking more about things that people consider creepy but not physically terrifying--those aren't phobias.
In my mid-30s I developed out of nowhere a fear of flying, just before I took a job requiring me to move from Australia to England, and then go on fieldwork in Indonesia with a fair bit of flying around the region.
The turbulence is what bothers me the most, and there is usually quite a lot in this part of the world. But specifically what gets me is when they have said there will be turbulence, and then there isn't. For some reason I get more worried about imminent bumpiness than current bumpiness.
When it is bumpy I need to be looking out of the window. Why that should be reassuring I don't know, but I it seems to help in an of course it's bumpy, we're flying through a fucking thunderstorm! kind of way.
"Wait, who had the sleeping-with-one's-own-daughters phobia?"
Big Ben, 77.
My one experience with parachuting was like Idealist said. Once your chute is open you have no feeling of movement at all. No wind rushing past your ears (because of how parachutes work.) You just hang there peacefully watching this silent 360 degree landscape very slowly grow larger.
We had guys on our roof to watch planes come in to land [and we were only five floors up] and they soiled their pants looking down at the street.
And they were PILOTS........
I personally cannot stand buying live prawns at the market and feeling them TWITCH inside the bag you're given here to take them home. My wife, on the other hand, who is normally very squeamish, has no problems doing so.
I am not afraid of roller coasters, but I do not like them, because they make me sick t my stomach.
While I am not afraid of heights, rollar coasters, cliffs, or bridges, that scene in "The Army of Shadows," where the middle-aged French Resistance cell leader is looking down at the darkness he's supposed to leap into on his first-ever parachute-drop, freaked me the fuck out. That's an image that's going to stick with me for some years to come.
I just looked back through the thread Weiner linked to in 105, and since it's closed, I'll comment here.
There's a lot of talk in that thread about getting up to give people a seat on the subway. I have a question about the best way to do this, strategically. Let's grant for the purposes of discussion that I'm good about looking around and seeing if anyone looks like they particularly need, and can't otherwise find, a seat. Does it make more sense for me to just not sit down (unless I for some reason really need to sit, but this almost never happens) and let other people sort things out themselves, or to take a seat so that I can give it up if the need arises?
JM, in mentioning a movie that scared her, reminded me of another of mine: discontinuity of memory and identity.
Does it make more sense for me to just not sit down (unless I for some reason really need to sit, but this almost never happens) and let other people sort things out themselves, or to take a seat so that I can give it up if the need arises?
The latter.
I agree with LB in 112. I hate it when I don't sit down because I want to leave a seat for someone I see who I think could use it and then have that seat swiped by some rude-ass punk instead. Better to offer the seat to a specific person.
I couldn't get Matt's link in 105 to work, so I goggled "Margaret Thatcher illusion". I have to say that something about the left-hand picture made me uneasy immediately.
Or, rather, since they were using a photo of George W Bush; the picture on the left induced even more shuddering than the one on the right.
The link in 105 was a joke. I wasn't particularly put off by this but when I clicked to flip I thought "hey, why doesn't the one on the right look like a total moron?"
Meh, looking at the ones here I don't find the effect that striking. Cool page tho.
I must have an upside down mind because the two wrong upside-down pictures looked definitely wrong to me.
1. snakes
(i used to live in a place tha thad the big kind tha would drop on you from a tree if you were unlucky enough to encounter them - uggggh)
2. any biggish mirror in a dark, lightless room