Why the Ripley's Believe It or Not Series Still Freaks Us Out After 100 Years

Why the Ripley's Believe It or Not Series Still Freaks Us Out After 100 Years

Robert Ripley was a bit of a weirdo. Honestly, that’s the only way to put it. Long before we had TikTok creators filming "cringe" content or YouTubers exploring abandoned hospitals, there was this guy with a buck-toothed grin and a penchant for pithy drawings who decided that the world was far stranger than anyone cared to admit. The Ripley's Believe It or Not series didn't just start as a TV show or a museum; it began as a desperate, last-minute sports cartoon in 1918. Ripley had a deadline, he didn't have a specific athlete to draw, so he threw together a bunch of "unbelievable" sports feats.

People lost their minds.

They loved it. From that single spark of curiosity, a global empire of the macabre and the miraculous was born. It’s a franchise that has survived world wars, the transition from print to radio, the golden age of television, and the soul-crushing weight of the internet era. Most things that started in 1918 are long dead. Ripley's is still here. Why? Because humans are hardwired to look at a two-headed calf and ask, "Wait, is that real?"

The Man Behind the Oddity

Robert Ripley wasn't an academic. He was a high school dropout who happened to be incredibly good at sketching. But he had this obsessive drive to travel. He visited over 200 countries—keep in mind, this was the 1920s and 30s when traveling to China or India meant weeks on a steamship, not a red-eye flight with crappy Wi-Fi. He was looking for the stuff that made people uncomfortable. He wanted the things that challenged your basic understanding of biology and physics.

He became a celebrity. A massive one.

At one point, he was receiving more mail than the President of the United States. It’s actually a documented fact that the U.S. Post Office had to assign extra workers just to handle the "Ripley mail." People would send him letters addressed with nothing but a drawing of a ripped piece of paper or a cryptic riddle, and the mailmen knew exactly where it went. He lived in a massive mansion called BION (Believe It Or Not) Island, filled with shrunken heads and primitive artwork. He was basically the original influencer, just with more authentic artifacts and fewer brand deals for energy drinks.

Evolution of the Ripley's Believe It or Not Series

The "series" part of this history is actually a bit confusing because it exists in so many formats. You have the original newspaper syndication, which, believe it or not (pun intended), is still running today. Then you had the radio shows where Ripley would interview people with strange talents live on air.

But most of us—especially if you grew up in the 80s, 90s, or early 2000s—associate the name with the television iterations.

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The Jack Palance Era

If you want to talk about atmosphere, you have to talk about Jack Palance. In the 1980s, Palance hosted the Ripley's Believe It or Not series with a voice that sounded like gravel being ground into a velvet rug. He stood in front of flickering shadows and told you about people who survived lightning strikes or built castles out of coral. It was eerie. It felt dangerous to watch as a kid. That version of the show leaned heavily into the "unexplained" and the gothic.

The Dean Cain Reboot

Then came the 2000s. Dean Cain, fresh off his stint as Superman, took the reins. This version was slicker. It felt more like a fast-paced documentary series. It focused heavily on "human marvels"—people who could pull trucks with their ears or the guy who spent decades tattooing every inch of his body to look like a leopard. It was less about the "spooky" and more about the "spectacular."

The Modern Incarnation

Today, the series lives on through annual books and digital content. These books are basically the Bible for middle-schoolers who want to gross out their parents. They use high-resolution photography and "augmented reality" to bring the oddities to life. The core remains: the "Odditoriums." There are over 30 of these museums worldwide. They are the physical manifestation of the series. You can walk into a building in Orlando or London and see a legitimate shrunken head from the Jivaro people of Ecuador. It’s polarizing. Some people think it’s exploitative; others see it as a preservation of vanishing cultures and biological anomalies.

Is Any of This Actually Real?

This is the big question. Does the Ripley's Believe It or Not series lie to you?

Short answer: No, but they are masters of framing.

Ripley famously claimed he could prove every single thing he published. He had a full-time researcher named Norbert Pearlroth who spent 10 hours a day, six days a week, in the New York Public Library for decades. Pearlroth was the "fact-checker" before that was even a job title. If Ripley said a man lived for 20 minutes after being decapitated (an actual claim), he had a source for it.

Now, does a "source" from a 19th-century medical journal mean it's 100% scientific truth by 2026 standards? Probably not.

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But the franchise takes its credibility seriously. They don't just make stuff up. They find the outlier cases—the 0.0001% of occurrences—and highlight them. When you see a "Lizard Man" or a woman with 18-inch fingernails, those are real people. The "science" might be weird, and the stories might be sensationalized, but the physical artifacts are almost always the real deal. They have a massive warehouse in Orlando where they keep the stuff not currently on display. It’s like the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark, but with more wax figures of the world's tallest man.

Why We Can't Look Away

There is a psychological term for why we love the Ripley's Believe It or Not series: "Morbid Curiosity."

It’s not that we’re all sociopaths. It’s that human beings are evolutionary programmed to pay attention to things that are "wrong" or "different." If you see a guy who can pop his eyeballs out of his sockets (Kim Goodman, a series regular), your brain screams "Alert! Danger!" but your curiosity says "Wait, how does that work?"

Ripley tapped into the "freak show" energy of the 19th century but cleaned it up for a middle-class audience. He made it educational. Or at least, he gave us the excuse of education. You weren't just staring at a person with a physical deformity; you were "learning about the wonders of the human body." It’s a subtle shift, but it’s why the brand survived while the old-school carnival sideshows died out.

The Controversy of the "Odd"

It hasn't all been smooth sailing. In recent years, the Ripley's Believe It or Not series has faced criticism regarding cultural sensitivity. Specifically, the display of shrunken heads (Tsantsas).

For decades, these were the crown jewels of the Ripley collection. However, as our understanding of indigenous rights and museum ethics has evolved, many have questioned whether displaying human remains for entertainment is okay. Ripley’s has actually responded to this. They’ve pulled many of the "real" human remains from display or replaced them with replicas, while moving the originals into research archives.

It’s a weird tension. The brand is built on being "shocking," but in 2026, what shocks us is often different from what shocked people in 1930. We’re less shocked by a guy with a lot of piercings and more shocked by historical insensitivity. The series is constantly having to recalibrate its "weirdness meter."

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What Most People Get Wrong About the Franchise

Most people think Ripley's is just a tourist trap. They see the "crooked" buildings at beach resorts and think it’s all just plastic and mirrors.

But the history is deep.

  • The "Star-Spangled Banner" Connection: Did you know Robert Ripley is basically the reason the US has a national anthem? In 1929, he ran a cartoon pointing out that America didn't have an official anthem (we just used "God Save the King" tunes or "My Country 'Tis of Thee"). Five million people signed a petition because of that cartoon, and President Hoover eventually signed the law. That’s the power the series had.
  • The Research is Infinite: The archive in Florida contains over 30,000 artifacts and 20,000 photographs. It’s one of the largest private collections of "weird" stuff in existence.
  • The "Believe It or Not" catchphrase: It wasn't just a title; it was a legal shield. By framing everything as "Believe it or not," Ripley was essentially saying, "I'm presenting the evidence I found; you decide if you're skeptical."

How to Experience the Series Today

If you’re looking to dive into the Ripley's Believe It or Not series, don't just go to the first museum you see.

  1. Start with the Books: The annuals are genuinely great for trivia lovers. They are packed with more information than the TV shows ever were.
  2. Visit the "Flagship" Locations: The St. Augustine, Florida Odditorium is the first one. It’s housed in an old hotel and has a much more "authentic" feel than the newer, neon-heavy locations in places like Myrtle Beach.
  3. Check the Podcasts: There have been several "official" and "unofficial" deep dives into the archives that explain the backstory of specific artifacts.
  4. Look for the Jack Palance Episodes: You can find clips of the 80s series online. It is peak 80s "weirdness" and worth it just for the cinematography and Palance’s legendary hosting.

What’s Next for the Weirdest Show on Earth?

The Ripley's Believe It or Not series is currently moving into the digital frontier. They are experimenting with NFTs (because of course they are) and immersive VR experiences where you can "walk" through a virtual museum of the impossible.

But the core will always be the physical object.

There is something about seeing a piece of the Berlin Wall, a portrait made of toast, or a 19th-century vampire killing kit in person that a digital screen can't replicate. We live in an era of CGI and AI-generated images where we can't trust anything we see online. In a weird way, that makes Ripley’s more relevant.

When you see a two-headed goat in a glass case, and you can see the dust on the glass and the weird texture of the taxidermy, you know it’s real. Or at least, as real as it gets. In a world of fakes, the "Believe It or Not" challenge is actually refreshing.

Actionable Takeaways for the Curious

If you're fascinated by the "unbelievable," here’s how to engage with the world of the odd responsibly:

  • Verify the source: If you see a "Ripley-style" fact online, check if it's been debunked by sites like Snopes. The internet is full of "fake" Ripley facts that the actual franchise never claimed.
  • Understand the context: When looking at "tribal" artifacts in the series, take a moment to read the actual history of those people. The "shrunken heads" aren't just props; they are part of a complex (and often violent) cultural history that deserves more than a 5-second glance.
  • Support local "Oddities": The spirit of Robert Ripley lives on in small, independent "Cabinet of Curiosities" museums in many cities. These places often have more heart and deeper local history than the big franchises.

The Ripley's Believe It or Not series reminds us that the world is much bigger, much grosser, and much more beautiful than our daily routines suggest. It’s a reminder to keep your eyes open. You don't have to believe everything you see, but you should definitely be looking.