Aggregate Death
When an Obituary Mentions the Deceased’s Disdain of the Kardashians …
Brent Taylor from Ontario brought this obituary to my attention:
BROWNLEY, RAYMOND “BIG AL” ALAN
December 30, 1931 – September 21, 2014
Raymond Alan Brownley of Pittsburgh (Ingram Boro), Pennsylvania, died on September 21, 2014, at the age of 82, but his larger-than-life persona and trademark stubbornness will not be forgotten.
He was born on December 30, 1931, in McKees Rocks, Pennsylvania. He was the youngest son of the late William Franklin Brownley (born on October 28, 1894, in Newtown, Virginia, and died October 1, 1977, in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania) and Lucille Beverly Fauntleroy Brownley (born February 14, 1896, in King William, Virginia, and died October 8, 1956, in McKees Rocks, Pennsylvania).
Affectionately known as Big Al by his family and many friends, he was a plumber by trade, a tremendous gardener and avid hunter. He also enjoyed fishing and proudly displayed the stuffed barracuda he caught back in 1965, much to the dismay of his wife, Agnes Bargo Brownley, to whom he was married to for 24 years.
He despised canned cranberry sauce, wearing shorts, cigarette butts in his driveway, oatmeal, loud-mouth know-it-alls, Tabasco sauce, reality TV shows, and anything to do with the Kardashians.
But Big Al had many loves, too. He loved his wife, Agnes Bargo Brownley, who preceded him in death in 1990. He also dearly loved his children and grandchildren. Famously opinionated and short-tempered, Big Al handed these qualities down to his daughter, Jill Ann Brownley of Phoenix, Arizona, a sharp-tongued character in her own right. Attending trade school to be a plumber instead of going to college, Big Al’s strong work ethic and keen sense of wisely saving and investing his money live on with his son, Jeffrey Allen Brownley (Jill Shafranek Brownley), of New York. He took extreme pride in his two adorable grandchildren Derek Brownley (5) and Alexis Brownley (3), who affectionately called him Grandpa Al. He also loved milk shakes, fried shrimp, the Steelers, the Playboy channel, Silky’s Gentlemens Club, taking afternoon naps in his recliner, hanging out at the VFW, playing poker, eating jelly beans by the handful, and his hunting dogs-his favorite being Holly Hill Rip Van Winkle, a loyal beagle that answered to the nickname of Rip.
Big Al was world-renowned for his lack of patience, not holding back his opinion, and a knack for telling it like it is. He was highly proficient at cursing. He liked four-letter words just about as much as four-wheel drive pick-up trucks. He was a connoisseur of banana cream pie and a firm believer that ham sandwiches should only be served on Mancini’s bread. He always told you the truth, even if it wasn’t what you wanted to hear. He was generous to a fault, a pussy cat at heart, and yet he sugar-coated absolutely nothing. To quote Winston Churchill: “He was a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma.”
His fondness of spaghetti Westerns was only surpassed by his love of bacon, beer and butter pecan ice cream. He fondly reminisced about good friends, good drinks and good times at the Tri-Valley Sportsmens Club in Burgettstown. He was a long-time member of the Elks Club in McKees Rocks where he frequently bartended and generously donated his tips to charity. Quite a teller of tales, Big Al’s elaborate stories often were punctuated with the phrase, “And that’s when I kicked his ass.” He enjoyed outlaw country music: Waylon, Willie, Hank, Johnny. He was also on a first-name basis with the Four Horsemen of liquor: Jack, Jim, Johnnie and Jose.
Big Al had strong beliefs in which he never waivered: dog shit makes the best garden fertilizer; Heinz ketchup does not belong on a hotdog; and PennDOT should be embarrassed of the never-ending construction, detours and potholes on Route 28.
With his love for gardening and passion for hunting, Big Al was locally sourcing his food for decades long before it was the “in thing” to do. While a necessity in his youth growing up during the Depression, this passion for being self-sufficient was carried throughout his whole life. This Depression baby was ahead of his time with “being green,” as evidenced by the approximately 87 “I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter” containers stacked neatly in his kitchen cupboard. The biggest challenge was actually finding the butter in his refrigerator with 13 containers of leftovers that all looked the same.
Big Al was known for his timeless words of wisdom, including “Life is hard; but it’s harder if you’re stupid” and “Don’t be a jackass.” He had a life-long ménage a trois with his homemade chili and Gas-X. He had a great fondness for sardines on crackers, stuffed cabbage (which he lovingly called hunky hand grenades), making turtle soup, and eating BLTs. And his famous holiday eggnog had enough whiskey to grow hair on your chest.
Also known as the Squirrel Whisperer, he communicated with the local red-tailed squirrels and fed them peanuts out of his hand. He took pride in his time served in the Navy on the USS San Marcos during the Korean War, often waxing nostalgia that the worst meal he’d ever eaten was Shit on a Shingle (creamed chipped beef on toast). His mantra of a girl in every port often led to a fight in every port. With a stink eye towards organized religion, Big Al was more spiritual than religious and enjoyed reading the Bible before bed each night and watching “church on TV” every Sunday morning.
What he lacked in stature, he compensated with an over-abundance of charisma, charm and feistiness. Big Al took fashion advice from no one. With his trademark white, v-neck t-shirts and strategically coiffed comb-over, his comfort far outweighed any interest in the latest fashion trends. He was well-stocked with white shoe polish to keep his tennis shoes looking pristine for prime rib dinners at Longhorn Steakhouse.
In the last few years, Big Al’s short-term memory loss was getting the best of him. On December 29, 2012-the day before his 81st birthday-he had a stroke that was a turning point in the decline of his health. His devout feistiness and stubbornness had served him well throughout his life. And even in his waning months, he was a model of strong will and sheer determination right up until the end of his journey here on earth. He will be greatly missed and fondly remembered by many friends, neighbors, nieces, nephews, and bun heads.
Also preceding Big Al in death were his older siblings: William Franklin Brownley Jr., Robert Fauntleroy Brownley, Richard Leonard Brownley, Virginia Lee Brownley Barnes, and Louise Beverly Brownley Kindle.
Tremendous heartfelt thanks go to Stacey Schaeffer and Barb Casey, truly compassionate and exceptional hospice nurses at ViaQuest Hospice, as well as Laniece Butler, who provided much more than just comfort for Big Al, but also provided a sense of humor, peace and tranquility during his transition from this life into the next. Many thanks also to the wonderful staff at Asbury Heights Nursing Home in Mt. Lebanon.
Visitation 6-8 p.m. Thursday, 1-3 and 6-8 p.m. Friday at the Schepner-Mcdermott Funeral Home, Inc., 165 Noble Ave., Crafton, where the Funeral Service will be held 10 a.m. Saturday with interment to follow, with full military honors, in Mount Calvary Cemetery, McKees Rocks. In lieu of the traditional Irish Wake, Family and friends are cordially invited to Downey’s House Restaurant, 6080 Steubenville Pike, Robinson Twp., PA 15136, for a Celebration of Life Luncheon at Noon for a mandatory shot and a beer, in a final toast in Big Al’s honor, the greatest Dad in the world.
– See more at: http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/postgazette/obituary.aspx?n=raymond-alan-brownley-big-al&pid=172561140&#sthash.owfIYYYX.dpuf
13 Unusual Death: Part 2
This list is from Wikipedia:
1923: George Herbert, 5th Earl of Carnarvon, died after a mosquito bite on his face, which he cut while shaving, became seriously infected with erysipelas, leading to blood poisoning and eventually pneumonia. Some have alleged his death is attributable to the so-called curse of the pharaohs.
1961: U.S. Army Specialists John A. Byrnes and Richard Leroy McKinley and Navy Electrician’s Mate Richard C. Legg were killed by a water hammer explosion during maintenance on the SL-1 nuclear reactor in Idaho.
1966: Skydiver Nick Piantanida died from the effects of uncontrolled decompression four months after an attempt to break the world record for the highest parachute jump. During his third attempt, his face mask came loose (or he possibly opened it by mistake), causing loss of air pressure and irreversible brain damage.
1971: Georgy Dobrovolsky, Vladislav Volkov and Viktor Patsayev, Soviet cosmonauts, died when their Soyuz-11 spacecraft depressurized during preparations for reentry. These are the only known human deaths outside the Earth’s atmosphere.
1974: Basil Brown, a 48-year-old health food advocate from Croydon, England, drank himself to death by consuming 10 gallons (37.85 litres) of carrot juice in ten days, causing him to overdose on vitamin A and suffer severe liver damage.
1977: Tom Pryce, a Welsh Formula 1 driver, was killed when struck on the head by a fire extinguisher when his car hit and killed a marshal who was running across the Kyalami race track to extinguish a burning car.
1978: Kurt Gödel, the Austrian/American logician and mathematician, died of starvation when his wife was hospitalized. Gödel suffered from extreme paranoia and refused to eat food prepared by anyone else.
1979: Robert Williams, a worker at a Ford Motor Co. plant, was the first known human to be killed by a robot, after the arm of a one-ton factory robot hit him in the head.
1979: John Bowen, a 20-year-old from Nashua, New Hampshire, U.S., was attending a New York Jets football game at Shea Stadium on 9 December. During a half-time show event featuring custom-made remote control flying machines, a 40-pound model plane shaped like a lawnmower accidentally dove into the stands, striking Bowen and another spectator, causing severe head injuries. Bowen died in the hospital four days later.
When Your Obituary is Part of Your Suicide Note
Brent Taylor from Ontario brought this obituary from the Winnipeg Free Press to my attention:
LISA STARK
LISA STARK April 21, 1970 – September 12, 2014 Peacefully and on my own terms, I left this world on September 12, 2014. I am survived by my parents, Robert and Elaine Stark, my sister, Shawna Downey (Darin), and my sweet niece and nephew, Jordan and Joey. Since adolescence I have struggled with mental illness; it has caused pain and suffering not only to myself, but to my family and friends. We can finally rest. A celebration of my life will be held on Friday, September 26, 2014 at 7:00 p.m. at The Winnipeg Squash Club located at 275 Stradbrook Ave. In lieu of flowers, donations can be made to Klinic Community Health Centre (www.klinic.mb.ca). “I do not fear death. I had been dead for billions and billions of years before I was born, and had not suffered the slightest inconvenience from it.” Mark Twain.
LISA STARK April 21, 1970 – September 13, 2014 It is with sadness that we announce the passing of Lisa on Saturday, September 13, 2014. A celebration of Lisa’s life is being planned and a longer notice will follow. Family and friends may sign a Book of Condolence at www.glenlawn.ca. Glen Lawn Funeral Home.
THE MAKING OF “IN VOLUPTAS MORS”
WARNING: The following post contains artistic nudity. Although this isn’t pornagraphic in nature, please use caution if you are offended by naked bodies.
If you have interest in death related art, you’ve at least seen the final product of Salvador Dalí’s work floating around your studies and searches. You may also have some understanding of the meaning behind this particular piece. “In Voluptas Mors” depicts the fusion of eros (erotic or sexual love) and thanatos (death). In Greek mythology, “Voluptas” is the daughter of Eros and Psyche and the goddess of “sensual pleasure”. “Mors” was the Roman god of Death (the equivalent of the Greek “Thanatos”). The final image that you will see below presents a fusion of eros (erotic or sexual love) and thanatos (death) in a single object (therefore, in voluptas mors — quite literally one finds “death in the voluptuous”).
The relationship between Eros and Thanatos has been a topic of conversation for Freud, Becker and eco-feminists such as Beverly Clack (author of “Sex and Death”). While interpretations of Eros and Thanatos different, they present two of the most fundamental and stigmatized facets of humanity. Eros and Thanatos are — in a word — scandalous, much like Dali’s work presented below.
If you feel disturbed by the “In Voluptas Mors”, well … that’s part of Dali’s intention. While it’s slightly scandalous now, you can imagine the how it may have been interpreted when it was created in 1951.
So, here’s the process of how the photo was made. It took some three hours to maneuver the models in place. And thankfully, no one ate burritos the night before the photo was taken.
