One...Two...Three...

This is the immortal Harry Caray, famed announcer for the Chicago Cubs baseball franchise. He is not to be confused with harakiri, the Japanese form of ritual suicide in which an individual slices open their stomach. However, because Americans can't pronounce foreign tongues with any form of dignity, people mistake the two words.

These are Harry Caray's fans... emerging like odd tumors out of the thigh of this great announcer. Fans of old horror movies might recall Freddy Krueger's chest of souls, the screaming faces of all of his victims affixed to his torso, well, this is kind of like that. Except that here, we have happy cubs fans popping out of Mr. Caray's thighs.

So this is Harry Caray--not ritual suicide and not a demonic dream-lord with countless souls in his thighs. Just an icon who popularized thick glasses before hipster kids came along. 

It is a little known fact that if you find yourself drunk at Wrigley Field and pass out underneath the statue of Harry Caray during a World Series Game, every time you hear the song "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" you will ejaculate diamonds and the first child sired from such emissions will be born with pure white hair.