Archive for the ‘Funeral’ Category

Robert Anton Wilson Cosmic Meme-Orial

January 24, 2007

Lust, Chico:65, 6006 YD

Join Together at the Robert Anton Wilson Cosmic Meme-Orial
& Lasagna Levitation Celebration!

Hail Eris! All Hail Bob!

Celebrate the life, work and continued multi-dimensionality
of Robert Anton Wilson by joining us in a giant, jammin’
Translation Celebration and 8th Circuit Soiree!

. Reconnect with old friends. Make new, like-minded friends. Share ideas. Exchange email addresses. (It’s like the Internet, only in person.)
. Be a part of Bob’s Raucous Processionary Send-Off as his ashes sail out of the cove and rejoin his beloved’s in the Pacific!
. Watch continuous video clips of RAW from “Maybe Logic” documentary and from his numerous Trajectories videos.
. Expand your mind (and your tummy) with hors d’ourvres, soft drinks, and a cash bar.
. Expand your neighbors’ minds by sharing remembrances and anecdotes at the open mic! (Brevity and levity are appreciated!)
. Mingle, nosh, remember, appreciate, celebrate!
. And above all, Keep the Lasagna Flying!


Where: The Cocoanut Grove, on the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk in Santa Cruz, CA:
When: Sunday, February 18, 2007
Time: 1 – 6 PM
Tickets: $23 each
Limited number available! To purchase tickets, or for additional


Q: How can I help kick out the jams?
A: Contribute to the media presentation. Forward photos of Bob or other creative visual remembrances that relate to RAW and his work. Your images will be included in a projected media presentation for all to enjoy. Please email your .jpegs (300-600 dpi) to no later than February 11th. Please consider contributing even if you can’t be there in person.

Q: Is it always sunny in California?
A: Not in February, Chester. It’s winter, and it can get DANG cold at the ocean. If you plan to play outside, dress for CHILLY weather and you will be fine and toasty.

Q: I’m coming from a long way away. Can I crash at your place?
A: Umm… not really. Click here to search for lodging in Santa Cruz County:

Q: I’m sorry…I spaced. Where did you say this was again?
A: The Cocoanut Grove is a famous ballroom attached to the Santa Cruz, CA, Beach Boardwalk (which is celebrating its centennial this year). Boardwalk arcades and amusement park rides (including the Giant Dipper, regularly voted one of America’s Top 10 Rollercoasters) are open from 11am to 6pm Saturday, Sunday and Monday for the President’s Day Holiday! All Hail Thomas Jefferson! Impeach Bush!

Q: So what is there to do before/after the ceremony?
A: If you’ve never communed with the redwoods, visit Henry Cowell Redwoods State Park, just minutes up the road! Or enjoy one of Santa Cruz’s fine restaurants (Bob loved the Golden Buddha in Soquel, for instance).

Original Link

The Funeral Of Oxo Marx

October 4, 2005

Oxo Marx’s funeral was a small, sad affair, attended only by his mother, who was blind, deaf, dumb and not very good at crossword puzzles; his sister Oxa, who was on an oxygen mask, not because she needed it, but because she thought it was hip; his almost girlfriend Priscilla, who was now considering returning to the circus; his landlord, Willy Man, who had found the self-beheaded Oxo and considered him a pretty good tenant; and a mysterious woman in black, whose face was obscured by a thick veil.

The funeral was lead by the Good Reverend Ricardo, who Oxo’s mother trusted with her life, and most of her savings. His speech was short, and to the point. “Let’s be honest, people. Oxo wasn’t an overly popular man. And, for good reasons. His breath was rank, his teeth had a fuzzy film, he made objectional comments on a routine basis, and besides all that he never liked reality tv. There were many things wrong with Oxo, and the world is probably better off without him. He beheaded himself, which to my knowledge has never been done before, this is itself an accomplishment, and probably his only one, so let us savour it. Uh . . . yeah, that’s about it I suppose. Does anyone want to say a few words?”

Oxo’s sister Oxa raised her hand wearily. The Good Reverend Ricardo stood aside as she staggered to the podium, and took three minutes to arrange her oxygen mask perfectly. Then, she cleared her throat, leaned down to the microphone and said: “Phlegm. Formica. Saliva. Bochi. Wang Doodle. Syphon. Thank you. These are. Just some words. I like to say. Thank you.”

Oxa shuffled back to her seat and noisily rearranged her oxygen mask. There was some awkward silence before the Good Reverend Ricardo made his way back to the podium. Just before he spoke for the final time he turned away and took a nip from his flask. “Well,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “I guess that’s it. It actually took longer than I expected. Who wants to get drunk?”

The mourners wandered away from the grave, except for the mysterious woman in black, who lingered by the grave stone until the cemetery was empty, then she leaned down and whispered to the stone: “I just like to go to funerals.”

Then she walked away, went home, and ate some white toast.