When you think of “10 offensive things” that were once celebrated as fun, you quickly realize that what tickled one crowd could horrify another. History is littered with pastimes that, by today’s standards, would be outright scandalous. Below we dive into ten such spectacles, each a reminder that cultural norms evolve—sometimes dramatically.
10 Offensive Things: A Glimpse Into Past Entertainment
10 Sation
In the wake of the Industrial Revolution, late‑19th‑century London stood out as one of the most economically polarized metropolises of the Western world. The twilight years of the Victorian age saw East London swamped with working‑class residents, Irish migrants, Eastern Europeans, and Jewish newcomers, all packed into cramped tenements.
Meanwhile, affluent citizens lived just a short carriage ride away, and newspaper accounts of the squalid conditions sparked a morbid curiosity. While a handful ventured out of genuine philanthropy, the majority were thrill‑seekers, donning disguises to spend a night or two among the destitute, treating the experience as a voyeuristic holiday.
By 1884, the craze crossed the Atlantic. The New York Times ran a headline proclaiming, “A Fashionable London Mania Reaches New‑York. Slumming Parties to be the Rage This Winter.” For decades, well‑to‑do white New Yorkers toured Harlem, Chinatown, the Lower East Side, and other impoverished districts. Today the phenomenon lives on under the monikers “poorism” and “poverty porn,” sparking endless debate over whether such tours educate or merely indulge schadenfreude.
9 The Original Drive‑By Shooting
After the Civil War, the United States turned its gaze westward, intent on clearing the path for expansion. A brutal strategy emerged: annihilate the bison, a keystone of many Native American cultures, thereby stripping tribes of their primary food source.
Within a few short years, the once‑abundant herds were driven to the brink of extinction. Fashionable bison pelts spurred a hunting frenzy, and by the 1880s more than 5,000 men were employed in the wholesale slaughter of whole herds. The accompanying image captures the grim aftermath in stark detail.
Even more chilling was the advent of “hunting by rail.” Railroad companies advertised the thrill of shooting bison from moving trains, a practice that turned the plains into a moving shooting gallery. When herds crossed the tracks, hunters could slow or stop the train and unleash a barrage of bullets, leaving a trail of lifeless beasts in their wake.
8 Insult To Injury: Wild West Shows
Powerful narratives are often penned by victors, and the turn‑of‑the‑century traveling Wild West Shows epitomized this truth. After driving Native peoples into destitution, showmen like “Buffalo Bill” Cody turned their suffering into a staged spectacle, forcing them to reenact fictionalized versions of white conquest and Indigenous savagery.
By the 1880s the frontier was officially “tamed.” Indigenous peoples were corralled onto barren reservations far removed from their ancestral homelands, eroding traditional ways of life and economic stability.
With few employment options left, some Native Americans were lured onto the road, performing heavily white‑washed caricatures of themselves. Audiences were fed a narrative of “Indians” as violent, lawless brutes vanquished by noble white heroes, cementing racist tropes that persisted well into the early 20th century. Even celebrated figures like Sitting Bull and Geronimo were co‑opted into these shows, often under the banner of “the worst Indian that ever lived.”
7 The Little Things That Thrill
Dreamland, alongside Steeplechase and Luna Park, formed the triumvirate of Coney Island’s original amusement parks. Operating from 1904 to 1911, Dreamland dazzled visitors with a million glowing bulbs and attractions ranging from a Venetian gondola ride to a simulated Alpine trek complete with icy breezes.
Yet among its many spectacles lay Lilliputia, a miniature European village populated by roughly 300 individuals of short stature. Dubbed the now‑offensive “Midget City,” the settlement featured half‑sized homes, furniture, and even a stable of tiny horses, all designed for the gawking public.
These performers, recruited from sideshows nationwide, entertained crowds through circus acts, theatrical productions, and operas. The beachside location even offered a sand stretch where the diminutive sunbathers lounged beside the tiniest lifeguard chairs imaginable. By today’s standards, displaying little‑people as a living exhibit would ignite massive outrage.
6 A Star Is Born: Preemie Voyeurism
Dreamland’s oddities didn’t stop at Lilliputia. A short walk away lay a sideshow where premature infants were kept alive inside state‑of‑the‑art incubators—a novel invention by Dr. Martin Couney.
Couney discovered that the cost of operating these life‑saving devices was prohibitive for hospitals. To fund the venture, he charged curious onlookers an extra 25 cents per baby (about $7 today), turning the incubator room into a paid attraction.
When the exhibit opened in 1903, premature infants were widely considered hopeless cases. Couney’s incubators proved otherwise, demonstrating that with proper care, even the most fragile newborns could thrive. Though the medical community frowned upon the spectacle, the incubators survived the 1911 Dreamland fire and operated until 1943, ultimately reshaping neonatal care.
5 The Amazing (And Disgusting) Pervasiveness Of Blackface Performances
Given America’s troubled racial past, the rise of blackface minstrelsy—white performers painting their faces black and exaggerating caricatures—might seem unsurprising. What truly astonishes is how deeply entrenched and long‑lasting this form of entertainment became.
The earliest minstrel troupes appeared in 1830s New York, with actors donning tattered costumes and blackened faces made from shoe polish. Their acts painted Black people as lazy, ignorant, hyper‑sexualized thieves, with the recurring “Jim Crow” character later lending its name to oppressive post‑Civil War laws.
One might assume such offensiveness would limit its reach, but blackface persisted well into the 20th century, leaping from stage to silver screen. Films with titles like Wooing and Wedding of a Coon and Coon Town Suffragettes proliferated, while characters like Stepin Fetchit and Sleep ’n Eat cemented the stereotype in popular culture.
Even Hollywood’s brightest stars—Bing Crosby, Milton Berle, Fred Astaire, Shirley Temple, Judy Garland, and future President Ronald Reagan—appeared in productions featuring blackface, underscoring its mainstream acceptance at the time.
4 Will Foxtrot For Food: The Great Depression’s Dancing Destitute
Dance marathons began in the mid‑1920s as lighthearted endurance contests, where couples competed to see who could Charleston, Jitterbug, or Lindy Hop the longest for a cash prize.
When the 1929 stock market crash ushered in the Great Depression, the stakes turned deadly serious. With unemployment soaring above 25 %, many participants saw the marathon prize as their only hope for sustenance, turning a playful contest into a grim survival game reminiscent of The Hunger Games.
Well‑to‑do spectators paid admission merely to watch the exhausted duos outlast one another, often taking brief naps in each other’s arms as the event stretched over days, even weeks. Organizers kept the dancers fed as long as they kept moving, turning the audience’s schadenfreude into a public spectacle that eventually prompted several states to ban the practice.
3 #MePew: The Sex Offender Skunk
Cartoons have never shied away from questionable behavior—think Elmer Fudd hunting Bugs Bunny or Homer Simpson’s occasional mischief. Yet the most egregious example of forced romance comes from the beloved skunk Pepe Le Pew.
While Elmer Fudd might earn a nod for his relentless pursuit of a rabbit, Pepe’s relentless chase of Penelope the Pussycat crosses the line into outright interspecies assault. Since his debut in 1945, children have watched this odorous suitor stalk and harass Penelope, with the gag persisting through Merrie Melodies episodes until 1962.
It’s unfair to judge early‑20th‑century animators by today’s standards, but the fact that audiences repeatedly found a cartoonized rapist amusing reveals a troubling cultural blind spot.
2 Flipper: Not Really Smiling
Before SeaWorld’s controversial orca shows, America’s living rooms were filled with the heroic dolphin Flipper, a television star from 1964 to 1967 who apparently saved drowning victims, caught crooks, and even performed aerial stunts.
In reality, the “Flipper” we saw was a handful of trained dolphins, and the iconic opening scene featured a frozen dolphin tossed from a helicopter. The series’ bright veneer concealed a darker truth: one of the dolphins, Kathy, chose to end her life in 1970, a heartbreaking act that highlighted the mental anguish captive marine mammals can experience.
Trainer Ric O’Barry later chronicled Kathy’s “depression” and became a leading marine‑mammal rights activist, publishing the memoir Behind the Dolphin Smile in 1988. The show’s legacy serves as a reminder to scrutinize animal entertainment for ethical concerns.
1 Funky Cold Rohypnol
Music has long perpetuated misogyny, from dated holiday standards like “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” to modern tracks that objectify women. Yet perhaps no song is as disturbingly explicit about non‑consensual behavior as Tone Loc’s 1989 hit “Funky Cold Medina.”
The narrative follows a smooth‑talking gentleman who, after learning a “secret” from a bar patron, spikes women’s drinks with a mysterious potion—essentially a roofie—to secure a quick hookup. The lyrics brag, “Put a little Medina in your glass, and the girls will come real quick,” glorifying drug‑facilitated assault.
Ironically, the song’s climax reveals the plan backfiring: the protagonist discovers his intended lover is, in fact, a man. The twist underscores the absurdity and danger of the protagonist’s misguided tactics.
Beyond the shocking storyline, the track stands as a cultural artifact of how normalized such predatory behavior once seemed, challenging listeners to confront uncomfortable truths about past popular music.
Christopher Dale, a seasoned op‑ed writer featured in outlets like Salon, The Daily Beast, and NY Daily News, explores these themes in his work on society, politics, and sobriety. Follow him on Twitter @ChrisDaleWriter.