dartsndeacs
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Bowtie Wilkersberry Dead At 76
- Thread starter ChrisPaul3
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Deacfreak07
Ain't played nobody, PAWL!
RIP
DaDeacs
Dickie Hemric
The real question is how this impacts the historical fantasy drafts for next year - had to imagine he was a high pick. Anybody with him in their keeper league is pulling their hair out.
HeavyPetter
Carnal Decadence
I think Mr. Wilkersberry's contributions are somewhat overstated. Like Yogi Berra, many of his quotes are either completely contrived or exaggerated to the point that they're obviously non-authentic. But that's a minor issue that really only points to Bowtie's penchant for self-promotion.
The preponderance of the evidence is that he couldn't invent a way to cut a sandwich if you gave him a sandwich, a knife, and a cutting board. Most of his "breakthroughs" are really not much more than having well-placed people in research-intensive corporations like 3M, Northrup-Grumman, Fisher-Price, Sandoz, and Blue Bunny Ice Cream. He gets the inside information from his sources, outsources the specifics to a university sweatshop in India, gets back some bits and pieces on their progress, and then runs to the US Patent Office to apply for protection for his "inventions." It's a great gig, and a great way to make money; but Mr Wilkerson does not deserve the accolades he receives for doing little more than 1) stealing, 2) outsourcing, and 3) creating a legal morass that the companies he originally stole from must navigate in order to bring their products to market.
Additionally, Mr. Wilkerson is a staunch conservative Republican, a self styled "job creator." He asserts that his inventions have put hundreds of thousands to work when the facts point out otherwise. Aside from the fact that the only people he actually employs are on the other side of the world, the jobs were created by the corporations who originally created the ideas for the inventions that he pilfered. He takes his profits to support such causes as expanded suburban coyote hunting, a legal defense fund for honor killings, and is part of an industry group for large scale trailer park owners.
I'm sure there are those who will miss him, but it's hardly suprising that someone wanted him dead.
The preponderance of the evidence is that he couldn't invent a way to cut a sandwich if you gave him a sandwich, a knife, and a cutting board. Most of his "breakthroughs" are really not much more than having well-placed people in research-intensive corporations like 3M, Northrup-Grumman, Fisher-Price, Sandoz, and Blue Bunny Ice Cream. He gets the inside information from his sources, outsources the specifics to a university sweatshop in India, gets back some bits and pieces on their progress, and then runs to the US Patent Office to apply for protection for his "inventions." It's a great gig, and a great way to make money; but Mr Wilkerson does not deserve the accolades he receives for doing little more than 1) stealing, 2) outsourcing, and 3) creating a legal morass that the companies he originally stole from must navigate in order to bring their products to market.
Additionally, Mr. Wilkerson is a staunch conservative Republican, a self styled "job creator." He asserts that his inventions have put hundreds of thousands to work when the facts point out otherwise. Aside from the fact that the only people he actually employs are on the other side of the world, the jobs were created by the corporations who originally created the ideas for the inventions that he pilfered. He takes his profits to support such causes as expanded suburban coyote hunting, a legal defense fund for honor killings, and is part of an industry group for large scale trailer park owners.
I'm sure there are those who will miss him, but it's hardly suprising that someone wanted him dead.
OldGoldBeard
A Sorry WR Like Crabtree
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Sounds like someone's just making up information to sound like one of the cool kids.
HeavyPetter
Carnal Decadence
The man is a walking contradiction. And somewhat of a liar.
marquee moon
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ChrisPaul3
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Well so much for "natural causes". Police now officially ruling Bowtie's death a homicide. Really didn't want to believe it at first, but there's no getting around it anymore apparently. They couldn't have done the autopsy yet, so I'd be really interested to know what changed.
Regardless, here are the names that keep popping up as persons of interest in most media reports:
Martina Leones Wilkersberry (wife)
Barney Burnside (financier)
Ludwig Napoleon Slapperson (inventing rival)
Marino Valspucci (inventing rival)
Darvis Platinbone (inventing rival)
Margaret Napier (ex-lover)
Larson Jean Maggineault (dog trainer)
Butterfly Wilkersberry (sister)
Tito Wiley (former assistant)
Regardless, here are the names that keep popping up as persons of interest in most media reports:
Martina Leones Wilkersberry (wife)
Barney Burnside (financier)
Ludwig Napoleon Slapperson (inventing rival)
Marino Valspucci (inventing rival)
Darvis Platinbone (inventing rival)
Margaret Napier (ex-lover)
Larson Jean Maggineault (dog trainer)
Butterfly Wilkersberry (sister)
Tito Wiley (former assistant)
DeaconBrews
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With all those suspects, it really is some crazy foreshadowing especially since Mr. Wilkersberry was one of the creators of Clue.
bmoneydeac
Butts - Jessica Biel's in particular
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could someone rank the top 5 inventions of mr. wilkersberry? maybe a list for enjoyment alone and another list for cultural significance?
ChrisL68
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ChrisPaul3
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"Asking a man to pick his favorite invention is like asking a man to pick a favorite single strand of his hair. If he can answer, then far too little grows from his head." -Bowtie Wilkersberry (Time Magazine July 1979)
ChrisPaul3
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Holy fuck. Darvis Platinbone found dead on his estate in Prague. No official word, but rumors swirling that his nostrils and lips were both covered in superglue, which of course led to suffocation. This cannot possibly be unrelated to Bowtie's passing.
For those unfamiliar, Platinbone was known for being the best inventing teacher in the world. He was the grandfather, if you will, of thousands of inventions, because so many of his proteges went on to invent stuff.
It's not clear how close he and Bowtie were at the time of their respective deaths, but we do know that in the late 70's they collaborated on "The Inventing Bible" which was the foremost how-to book on inventing for most of the late 20th century.
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That's very sad to hear? Are we sure it wasn't a self-inflicted death?
ChrisPaul3
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Well as all of us Platinbone fans have learned time and time again throughout his career, we most certainly cannot be sure of anything when it comes to Darvis.
bmoneydeac
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Any chance the machines have turned against their creators? These two could be the only thing preventing the machines from taking over the world.
I'm also considering some sort of scenario with death faking with all of the inventors retreating to their own colony Atlas Shrugged style. Keep us posted.
I'm also considering some sort of scenario with death faking with all of the inventors retreating to their own colony Atlas Shrugged style. Keep us posted.
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Interesting hypothesis.....
Harv
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Probably goes without saying that Ricky was a real admirer of Mr. Wilkersberry’s work. The Fiesta Fox always fancied himself as an amateur inventor, and he considered Bowtie an inspiration in that regard. Of course, unlike Bowtie, none of Foxy’s inventions ever came to fruition, as Ricky would be the first to admit that his inclination is more toward the vision than the implementation. Explains why he’s hired a couple of bonafide computer whizzes, TWDeac and CookoutDeac, to run this here show.
Anyway, Ricky went on a real spree back in the winter of ’73 after reading Bowtie’s unauthorized autobiography. Foxy had been engaging in a pretty regular poon dip with this broad he met at the Central Library down on Fifth Street. Although we called her the Librarian, she wasn’t an actual librarian. But seeing as how she was between homes and all, she spent a lot of time using the library’s facilities and knew all the latest books and periodicals. Like many vagrants, the Librarian was something of a Bowtie enthusiast, I reckon because when you’re living on the streets, or among the stacks at a local public library, you either innovate or perish (incidentally, I believe Innovate or Perish was actually the title of Bowtie’s second book). For instance, according to Rick this bird used to put down a layer of old newspaper on the floor of the library stairwell every time the two of them would make their love. Said she never knew when she might need those drippings for later. Pretty nifty.
One day Ricky came home with Bowtie’s book, which I have to say was a goddamn imposing monster of a manuscript. Must have been two or three thousand pages, minimum. Of course, when you’ve had as many inventions as Bowtie, you need a lot of room to tell your tale. And no one ever accused Bowtie of being a humble man. But Ricky wasn’t intimidated by the size of this tome. Snagged a couple handfuls of leapers from Kreebie and into his bedroom he went.
Two hundred sixty-two hours and fifteen minutes later, Ricky emerged, Bowtie’s dog-eared book in one hand, a bursting sketchpad in the other. Couldn’t stand still for even a second, partly from all the road dope he’d swallowed, but moreso from the excitement of revealing his inventions. So the entire assembly of Reynolda Raiders gathered around for Ricky to exhibit his creations.
Wish I could recall the specifics of Ricky’s many inventions, but with his lightning-quick talking, interspersed with uncontrollable teeth grinding and spontaneous crying, it was impossible to keep up. As you might expect, they were limited exclusively to innovations of a sexual nature. The vast majority of ‘em had to do with quicksand. Foxy said that if the stuff was strong enough to suck a fully grown man to his ultimate demise beneath the jungle floor, imagine what it could do for your pecker. If he could harness that power, he could change the world. It was about then that Ricky’s eyes rolled back in his head and he started frothing at the mouth and we made the group decision to put him to bed.
Following day, Foxy wakes up and dashes off to the library to see the Librarian and share with her his sketchbook of inventions. He was so tickled. Had big dreams of striking it rich and getting her an apartment or at least some kind of tent or canopy. Tragically, however, that was the week of one of Winston-Salem’s nastier cold snaps. When Ricky arrived, he learned authorities had discovered the Librarian early that morning, huddled behind the facility’s dumpster, frozen stiff as a rooster’s beak. Ironically, the only thing in her possession was a handful of old, slightly damp newspapers.
Anyway, Ricky went on a real spree back in the winter of ’73 after reading Bowtie’s unauthorized autobiography. Foxy had been engaging in a pretty regular poon dip with this broad he met at the Central Library down on Fifth Street. Although we called her the Librarian, she wasn’t an actual librarian. But seeing as how she was between homes and all, she spent a lot of time using the library’s facilities and knew all the latest books and periodicals. Like many vagrants, the Librarian was something of a Bowtie enthusiast, I reckon because when you’re living on the streets, or among the stacks at a local public library, you either innovate or perish (incidentally, I believe Innovate or Perish was actually the title of Bowtie’s second book). For instance, according to Rick this bird used to put down a layer of old newspaper on the floor of the library stairwell every time the two of them would make their love. Said she never knew when she might need those drippings for later. Pretty nifty.
One day Ricky came home with Bowtie’s book, which I have to say was a goddamn imposing monster of a manuscript. Must have been two or three thousand pages, minimum. Of course, when you’ve had as many inventions as Bowtie, you need a lot of room to tell your tale. And no one ever accused Bowtie of being a humble man. But Ricky wasn’t intimidated by the size of this tome. Snagged a couple handfuls of leapers from Kreebie and into his bedroom he went.
Two hundred sixty-two hours and fifteen minutes later, Ricky emerged, Bowtie’s dog-eared book in one hand, a bursting sketchpad in the other. Couldn’t stand still for even a second, partly from all the road dope he’d swallowed, but moreso from the excitement of revealing his inventions. So the entire assembly of Reynolda Raiders gathered around for Ricky to exhibit his creations.
Wish I could recall the specifics of Ricky’s many inventions, but with his lightning-quick talking, interspersed with uncontrollable teeth grinding and spontaneous crying, it was impossible to keep up. As you might expect, they were limited exclusively to innovations of a sexual nature. The vast majority of ‘em had to do with quicksand. Foxy said that if the stuff was strong enough to suck a fully grown man to his ultimate demise beneath the jungle floor, imagine what it could do for your pecker. If he could harness that power, he could change the world. It was about then that Ricky’s eyes rolled back in his head and he started frothing at the mouth and we made the group decision to put him to bed.
Following day, Foxy wakes up and dashes off to the library to see the Librarian and share with her his sketchbook of inventions. He was so tickled. Had big dreams of striking it rich and getting her an apartment or at least some kind of tent or canopy. Tragically, however, that was the week of one of Winston-Salem’s nastier cold snaps. When Ricky arrived, he learned authorities had discovered the Librarian early that morning, huddled behind the facility’s dumpster, frozen stiff as a rooster’s beak. Ironically, the only thing in her possession was a handful of old, slightly damp newspapers.