Something weird is going on concerning a 10-inch statue of Neb-Sanu that is on display at the Manchester Museum.

This small statue is turning around…by itself.

During the course of the day Neb-Sanu’s little statue decides it’s done being stared at by museum guests so quietly and very, very slowly it turns itself around to face the other way.

While many are saying that vibrations from museum guests are causing vibrations in the glass shelves that the statue sits on causing it to turn around, the museum staff is disagreeing with the idea.

“But it has been on those surfaces since we have had it and it has never moved before. And why would it go around in a perfect circle?”

Egyptologist Campbell Price who works at the museum has even weighed in with his somewhat eerie thoughts:

“I noticed one day that it had turned around. I thought it was strange because it is in a case and I am the only one who has a key. I put it back but then the next day it had moved again. We set up a time-lapse video and, although the naked eye can’t see it, you can clearly see it rotate on the film. The statuette is something that used to go in the tomb along with the mummy. Mourners would lay offerings at its feet. In Ancient Egypt they believed that if the mummy is destroyed then the statuette can act as an alternative vessel for the spirit. Maybe that is what is causing the movement.”

[IO9]

Talk about holding a grudge.

A pair of 1,600 year old black magic curses have been found, one each for a senator and an animal doctor named Procello who really gets cursed out.

“Destroy, crush, kill, strangle Porcello and wife Maurilla. Their soul, heart, buttocks, liver …” part of it reads. The iconography on the tablet actually shows a mummified Porcello, his arms crossed (as is the deity) and his name written on both of his arms.

And not to be left out, Fistus the senator…

“Crush, kill Fistus the senator,” part of the curse reads, “May Fistus dilute, languish, sink and may all his limbs dissolve …”

The curses are written in Latin and are believed to be directed toward the Greek goddess Hekate. They were originally discovered in Italy in 2009.

[Fox News]

Ever feel guilty about complaining? Sure the drive through clerk at Wendy’s forgot to remove the tomatoes from my Spicy Chicken sandwich, but do I really want to go back into the store?

And even worse, what if my friends call me cheap for requesting a new sandwich or even worse a refund? Is it worth the reputation as a skinflint to not pick off the tomato slice?

Well instead of complaining to a middle manager, why don’t you take your grievance to a higher authority: God. That’s what one fine citizen of the Roman city Antioch did when he cursed a random grocer in a 1,700 year old screed.

“O thunder-and-lightning-hurling Iao, strike, bind, bind together Babylas the greengrocer,” reads the beginning of one side of the curse tablet. “As you struck the chariot of Pharaoh, so strike his [Babylas’] offensiveness.”

Iao is an ol’ fashioned word for God.

So just remember, if you complain about service from a random food worker someone 1,700 years from now might find your complaint and then another person will make fun of you on a digital network inconceivable in your modern era.

[Live Science]

If we are going to live in a world where lightning kills a soccer team whilst leaving their opponents unharmed, why can’t it happen in Portland? Or Stockholm? Or London?

You know, somewhere where the buzz the next day would be about lapses in safety regulations and questions as to why the ref didn’t pull the players off the pitch as the weather deteriorated. Alas, it happened in the Republic of Congo where public opinion is convinced someone cursed the now deceased side.

The two sides were drawing 1-1 in the match in eastern Kasai Province when the lightning struck the visiting team.

“The athletes from [the home team] Basanga curiously came out of this catastrophe unscathed,” the paper said.

Congo is country gripped by war and now the populace has to worry about sports book addicted warlocks ginning up lightning bolts to merc visiting football teams. Awesome.

Thanks to Weird Things reader Dan for passing this along.

[BBC]

So you get a new phone. It has a new number. You email all your friends with the new info. Then you find out the last person who had this number died suddenly in a hail of gunfire and the dude before him croaked the same way. Oh, the the guy before those two? Cancer.

How excited are you to have the admittedly awesome number of 0888 888 888?

The Mobitel number – 0888 888 888 – has proved to be both easy to memorize and deadly for three successive owners.

The first user – the former CEO of Mobitel – died of cancer in 2001. The number then went to Bulgarian mob boss Konstantin Dimitrov who was gunned down in an Amsterdam ambush in 2003. The final owner of the doomed cell number was another gangster, cocaine smuggler Konstantin Dishliev, who was shot to death outside a restaurant in 2005.

The number was on hold while the investigation of Dishliev’s death was underway but now Mobitel has disabled the cursed number.

Please leave a message.

[Examiner]