If you double the number of Sea-Monkeys suddenly, the ecosystem you have been gradually developing upstairs might crash - a lot of complicated biological and chemical things can happen.Īn example scenario could be that your upstairs tank has the perfect balance of Sea-Monkeys, algae growth and oxygen levels. The potential issue with transferring isn't so much the direct effects on the Sea-Monkeys, it's the fact that you are very suddenly increasing the number of shrimp that the tank needs to support. Personally I always just use a large pipette/'Aqua Leash' and directly transfer them individually, or I just literally dump a whole tank into a brine shrimp net and then swirl the net in the new tank. Meanwhile, the Aryan Nations, long since shrunk to a mere crustacean in the sea of organized hate, was said to be eagerly anticipating the reading of at least one Jew's will.The Sea-Monkeys themselves are very resistant to changes in salinity, temperature, pH, hardness.etc. When von Braunhut ascended to that great aquarium in the sky last November, he was said to be at work on a pet lobster and an instant frog. In December 1995, von Braunhut - who called himself an ordained priest and often wore a clerical collar to Aryan Nations gatherings - presided over the funeral of Betty Butler, the chief's wife. He typically lashed out and hung up on reporters who pestered him.īut even with his 'Aryan' pretensions hopelessly dashed, von Braunhut's millions kept him in the Aryan Nations fold.

While thousands of Americans were taking a skeptical second look at their Sea-Monkeys, the Post also sent a jolt through the neo-Nazi world with its other big finding: 'The 62-year-old supporter of neo-Nazi groups was born and raised in New York City as Harold Nathan Braunhut, a Jew.'įor the rest of his life, von Braunhut's legendary cleverness deserted him whenever he was questioned about being a Jewish neo-Nazi. He even distributed his own anti-Zionist newsletter.Ī former business associate said that von Braunhut had once told him, 'Hitler wasn't a bad guy. He was a regular at the annual Aryan Nations World Congress, where he sometimes had the honor of lighting the cross. He'd helped buy firearms for a Ku Klux Klan faction in Ohio. The Washington Post put any lingering questions to rest with a story that made it clear von Braunhut's racist ties ran considerably deeper than your average Sea Monkey aquarium. Butler soon confirmed to the (Spokane, Wash.) Spokesman-Review that von Braunhut was an old pal and 'member of the Aryan race who has supported us quite a few years.' It didn't take long for reporters to pick up the scent of a scandal: Could American children's favorite huckster actually be funding the country's vilest hate-mongers? Richard Butler, head of the Aryan Nations - then the nation's most dangerous white supremacist group - enclosed a Kiyoga brochure in a fundraising letter while, Butler, who was facing sedition charges in federal court, told his fellow Aryans the 'manufacturer has made a pledge of $25 to my defense fund for each one sold to Aryan Nations supporters.'

A pen-sized, coil-springed weapon that unfurled a metal whip at the flick of a wrist, the Kiyoga took off (well, sort of) after Burt Reynolds used it in his 1981 big-budget stinker, 'Sharkey's Machine.' With typically shameless panache, von Braunhut peddled the Kiyoga for $59.95, calling it the ideal weapon 'if you need a gun but can't get a license.'īut in the late 1980s, the Kiyoga snapped back at its inventor. So what if Sea-Monkeys did not actually spring to life sporting broad grins, spiky tiaras and perky hairdos? So what if the sperm-like creatures could not truly be hypnotized, play baseball, or rise from the dead?Įverybody past the age of 6 knew Sea-Monkeys were little more than an elaborate hoax, but von Braunhut's witty packaging ensured that everybody still loved them - enough to certify him as a beloved king of American kitsch.īut then von Braunhut, who died recently at age 77, cooked up a drastically different toy - the Kiyoga Agent M5. Twisted von Braunhut surely was, but if you asked the legions of baby boomers who mail-ordered his packages of amusing disappointments in the 1960s and '70s, it definitely seemed like the good kind of twisted. What else can you say about a man who transformed a dinky, transparent species of crustacean into 'Amazing Live Sea-Monkeys,' peddling billions of the creatures under fantastically false pretenses? A man whose 194 other patents included those other unforgettable staples of comic-book advertising, Invisible Goldfish and X-Ray Spex? Nobody ever doubted that Harold von Braunhut was one twisted dude.

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