The Museum of Hoaxes
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April Fool's Day Archive, Contents:
Before 1900: Origin of April Fool's Day | 1700-1799 | 1800-1899
Early 1900s: 1900 | 1901 | 1915 | 1919 | 1920 | 1923 | 1925
1930s & 40s: 1933 | 1934 | 1936 | 1937 | 1938 | 1940 | 1949
1950s & 60s: 1950 | 1957 | 1959 | 1960 | 1962 | 1965 | 1969
1970s: 1970 | 1971 | 1972 | 1973 | 1974 | 1975 | 1976 | 1977 | 1978 | 1979
1980s: 1980 | 1981 | 1982 | 1983 | 1984 | 1985 | 1986 | 1987 | 1988 | 1989
1990s: 1990 | 1991 | 1992 | 1993 | 1994 | 1995 | 1996 | 1997 | 1998 | 1999
2000s: 2000 | 2001 | 2002 | 2003 | 2004 | 2005 | 2006 | 2007 | 2008 | 2009
2010s: 2010 | 2011
category
International Relations
The Danish Government issued a demand that the British government make its motorists drive on the right side of the road, instead of the left. The Danish Prime Minister Poul Schluter held a press conference at which he said, "We see this as a very serious case and intend to raise the issue in the (European Economic) Community… It is one of our priorities." Schluter, known as an enthusiastic cyclist, remarked that he was afraid to ride his bicycle in Britain. As he was leaving the press conference he turned and added, "April Fools."
Kremvax (1984)
A message was distributed to members of Usenet (the online messaging community that existed before the rise of the internet), announcing that the Soviet Union was joining Usenet. This was quite a shock to many, since most assumed that cold war security concerns would have prevented such a link-up. The message purported to come from Konstantin Chernenko (from the address chernenko@kremvax.UUCP) who explained that the Soviet Union wanted to join the network in order to “have a means of having an open discussion forum with the American and European people.“ The message created a flood of responses from members of the Usenet community. Two weeks later the author of the message revealed that it was a hoax.
The Durand Express, a Michigan weekly, reported that Nissan would built an auto plant outside of Durand City. The new plant would reportedly employ thousands and pay higher wages than the nearby General Motors plant. Furthermore, Nissan would pay farmers $10,000 an acre for the land on which the plant was to be built. Many unemployed auto workers believed the story and inquired about how to apply for jobs at the plant. However, the story was exposed as a fake by a reporter working at a newspaper in Flint, Michigan. Many people responded angrily to the news that the story was a prank and cancelled their subscriptions. The paper’s editor explained that he hadn’t been trying to hurt anyone, and thought that he had exaggerated his story enough to make it unbelievable.
The Connecticut Gazette and Connecticut Compass, weekly newspapers serving the Old Lyme and Mystic areas, both announced they were being purchased by Tass, the official news agency of the Soviet Union. On their front pages they both declared that this was "the first expansion of the Soviet media giant outside of the Iron Curtain." The article also revealed that after Tass had purchased the Compass, its two publishers had both been killed by "simultaneous hunting accidents" in which they had shot each other in the back of the head with "standard-issue Soviet Army rifles." An accompanying picture showed Gazette and Compass staff members wearing winter coats and fur hats, and carrying hockey sticks and bottles of vodka.

The announcement itself was bylined "By John Reed," and the new publisher, Vydonch U. Kissov, announced that the paper would be "thoroughly red." A new delivery system was also promised: cruise missiles (the publisher then admitted that this proposal was a 'leetle Soviet joke.') In response to the news, the offices of the Compass and the Gazette received calls offering condolences for the death of the publishers. One caller also informed them that he had long suspected them of harboring communist tendencies, and that it was only a matter of time before all the papers in the country were communist-controlled. When the publishers tried to explain that the article had been an April Fool's prank, the caller replied, "You expect me to believe a bunch of Commies?"
The Guardian reported that scientists at Britain's research labs in Pershore had "developed a machine to control the weather." The article was titled, "Britain Rules the Skies." The article explained that, "Britain will gain the immediate benefit of long summers, with rainfall only at night, and the Continent will have whatever Pershore decides to send it." Readers were also assured that Pershore scientists would make sure that it snowed every Christmas in Britain. Accompanying the article was a picture of a scruffy-looking scientists surrounded by scientific equipment. The picture was captioned, "Dr. Chisholm-Downright expresses quiet satisfaction as a computer printout announced sunshine in Pershore and a forthcoming blizzard over Marseilles."
The Daily Mail ran a story about an unfortunate Japanese long-distance runner, Kimo Nakajimi, who had entered the London Marathon but, on account of a translation error, thought that he had to run for 26 days, not 26 miles.

The Daily Mail showed pictures of Nakajimi running and reported that he was still somewhere out on the roads of England, determined to finish the race. Supposedly he had been spotted occasionally, still running.

The translation error was attributed to Timothy Bryant, an import director, who said, "I translated the rules and sent them off to him. But I have only been learning Japanese for two years, and I must have made a mistake. He seems to be taking this marathon to be something like the very long races they have over there."





Radio Leeds reported that the city government had approved a plan to demolish the City Square and ship the Black Prince’s statue to an Arab buyer. In return, local citizens would receive a bargain price for gasoline—30 pence a gallon.
Radio Carlisle reported that Wordsworth’s Dove Cottage had been sold to an American and was being shipped to Arizona brick by brick.
A French state-run radio station announced that European motorists were to begin driving on the left side of the road in order to help British drivers when they joined the Common Market. Almost immediately the radio station began to receive hundreds of phone calls from enraged French motorists. As a result, the station quickly admitted that the story was a hoax. The prank received wide coverage in the media.
The Daily Journal, based in Kankakee, Illinois, reported that a Soviet space capsule had landed just outside of the city. Apparently the cosmonauts had seriously miscalculated their trajectory during reentry. The Soviet government was said to be keeping its silence about the capsule. An accompanying photograph showed a space capsule with a hammer and sickle displayed on its side. The article said that one of the cosmonauts was named Lirpa Loof, who had been missing for over a year. Many people drove to the supposed site of the landing to see the capsule.


Spacecraft Lands Safely In Kankakee
World headlines are being made in Kankakee today with the first landing of a spaceship on American soil having taken place here.

Air Force and NASA officials are expected momentarily to inspect the ship on N. Hobbie Avenue.

The National Guard has replaced police, firemen and sheriff's deputies who assisted state police with guarding the site early this morning. Arrival of special troops from Ft. Sheridan, Chicago is expected momentarily.

The craft, which landed during the night is thought to be a Russian ship which miscalculated during reentry.

The Russians, who rarely announce space feats until they are well under way, have made no comment to international speculation that the ship is theirs.

The familiar hammer and sickle, symbol painted on the craft, plus the fact that the ship has made a land and not a sea touchdown, has prompted the unconfirmed announcement that the ship does belong to Russia.

Residents of Kankakee reported they were frightened by brilliant lights from the ship about five minutes after the entire Kankakee area was shaken about midnight by what was thought to have been an explosion or heavy sonic boom.

By the time police and firemen arrived at the landing site, the astronauts (or cosmonauts) were pulling the parachute into the craft, locking the doors from the inside.

However, once NASA officials are in charge, it is hoped the ship's occupants can be induced to open the locks and confer with the Americans. Linguists from Chicago are on route to act as interpreters during the interrogation.

Either by accident or pinpoint maneuvering, the landing was effected so intricately that no signs of damage to surrounding property are visible, and no injuries have been reported.

Observers at the scene say there appear to be at least three men aboard who have been seen looking from a window.

Photo Caption: Capsule Landing In Kankakee Startles World
Kankakee is in the headlines today with the unexplained appearance of this spaceship on N. Hobbie Ave. Official photograph of the bizarre occurence is being used by courtesy of Dnamra Keitsrok. One of the cosmonauts is thought to be Russian Lirpa Loof, missing for the past year.
Over thirty members of Washington's social elite received invitations to attend a dinner at a Washington social club, to be hosted by Dr. Pavel Stransky, secretary of the Czechoslovak legation. Those who were invited included diplomats, debutantes, White House aides, and army and naval officers. Invitations were extended by telephone by a woman speaking with a French accent. She told them that the dinner was to be given by Dr. Stransky at 8 o'clock. "You weel come," one invitee remembered her saying, "or Dr. Stransky weel be ver-ry disappoint. At eight. Au revoir, Monsieur!" Every one accepted. However many, noting the date, decided not to attend. Those who did show up discovered there was no host. Nor had any reservations been made. Dr. Stransky later protested that he was the main victim of the prank since he had organized no such event. He told the press, "I sent no invitations. I am astonished. People call me and say: 'You are giving a dinner.' Today is the 1st of April and I think it is all a joke. But why should they pick on me?" [The Washington Post, Apr 2, 1925.]
The French government received a message from Athens, Greece, sent via official channels, announcing that three prominent Parisian critics of Catholicism had been awarded the Order of the Redeemer, the highest decoration awarded by the Greek government. The decoration is considered a high honor among Catholics, since it symbolizes the rebirth of the Greek nation through divine assistance. The three men who supposedly had been awarded the medal were M. Ferdinand Buisson and M. Aulard of the Sorbonne, and M. Victor Basch of the University of Paris. In reality, the decorations had been conferred on less controversial figures. It was not known who had found a way to use the Greek government to play such a joke. Ferdinand Buisson was later awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. [The Washington Post, Apr 19, 1925.]
The Associated Press reported that a prankster started a rumor alleging that Colonel House had announced that the peace treaty ending World War I had been signed: "The report rapidly spread over all Paris and the telephone wires to the American headquarters in the hotel de Crillon became hot with inquiries as to the truth of the rumor. It did not take long however, for inquiries to realize the character of the report when they were reminded that today was April 1st." The Treaty of Versailles, which marked the formal end of the war, was signed on June 28, 1919. [Daily Northwestern, Apr 1, 1919.]
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