thehalfwitsymposium

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Rest in Peace, Ennio Morricone. One of my favorite pieces here, from one of my favorite movies.

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I owned this toy. You wound it up, and a belligerent wife-beating drunk on a motorcycle went speeding across your room! 

Fun fact. Near the end of Evil’s career, he wanted to jump from a plane without a parachute into a giant inflated landing pad. He wanted to have his spleen replaced with a locating device of some sort so he could be guided to the landing target. Seems like a legit plan.

(via The History Of The Evel Knievel Stunt Cycle Toy Line!)

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24 hours after leaving Facebook and Instagram

Withdrawals. The feeling in my gut is straight up withdrawals. I’m the Man with the Golden Arm but without the cool soundtrack and Saul Bass poster. 

Not gonna lie. There’s no feeling of celebration or liberation. There’s no feeling like I’m making the world a better place. How could there be when the reasons I left were more personal and relatively apolitical? None of that. This is just brutal. I’ve already accreted about 20 thoughts, eyed 40 things in the world, and chuckled at about 50 links I’ve wanted to share. Where to share them? Here? I’d be surprised if two people see this. But sharing with the ether feels better than not sharing at all. An exhibitionist without an exhibition.

There’s a big party, full of about 800 people I’ve known throughout my life, from childhood to my most recent job. They’re all still there, chopping it up, dancing to Abba. I’m out in the car, seeing my breath in the cold, turning the key to start the engine. Dust in the Wind comes on the radio.  Dust in the Wind? Really? I can’t believe that’s the song that came on. Way too on the nose.

I know I know. All the people at the party are screaming about politics or bragging about the homemade artisanal garlic naan grilled cheese they sculpted. But it’s still a party, and I like a party.

Anyhoozles, among the posts here on the Half-Wit Symposium, I might report back with updates about the state of my departure from Facebook. Lucky for you!

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Just learned about a Suzi Quatro documentary that’s been out for a year and I am PSYCHED. 

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Picking up a Sativa from the local Peter Lorre Dispensary

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Amy Irving, Carrie Fisher, and Teri Garr during Thanksgiving Party at Sibils in New York City - November 21, 1977

Photo: Ron Galella

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Doris Day, Rodney Dangerfield and Johnny Carson welcome everyone’s favorite character actor Burt Mustin

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Artist Bill Domonkos Remixes Archival Footage and Photos into Surreal Animations

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Surreal Monochromatic GIFs by Carl Burton

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Water Strider …

By Dashi Namdakov ..Cast silver and gold; stones inlay. 2006

http://www.dashi-art.com/gallery/jewelry

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WATCH: Memories of Paintings: A Soothing Technicolor Mix of Paint, Oil, Milk and Liquid Soap [video]

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Harbin Opera House in China | MAD

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GET YOUR ASHES PRESSED INTO VINYL WHEN YOU DIE

It is the most that a vinyl obsessed person can do;  die and have his remains pressed into vinyl.  It is, in fact, the obsession becoming complete, when the obsessee becomes the obsessed.

The company And Vinyly is offering this dream come true for vinyl enthusiasts.  They actually will take your ashes and press them into vinyl so you can actually become a record.  They offer a few different packages and, like an album, you get two sides to get your message across, albeit each side is only 12 minutes long.

According to their website, they say, “record a personal message, your last will & testament, your own soundtrack or simply press your ashes in to hear your pops and crackles for the minimum approach”

The basic package starts at £3,000.  You get up to 30 discs, your rest in vinyl album cover and label artwork (including your birth date and date of passing).  You must supply the music or vocals you want, but they do state they are liable for any copyright infringements that you may incur. 

If you don’t want your whole body burned and pressed into vinyl, they do accept body parts as well, as long as they have been incinerated.  Yes, they do accept pets too!

For big spenders, they will plan your send off for a mere £10,000.

The company started out as something to do for a laugh, but has had clients put their money where their mouth is (or was).  For those who want to “live on from beyond the groove”, check out your options here.

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The Dancing Dillers