BigBoy Monthly Manifest: Unleash Chaos in The Lobotomy Lounge

M/M BigBoy Monthly Manifest 25.01.27 – Australia Day Chaos: Revved Up and Unleashed!

Welcome to the BigBoy Monthly Manifest, My Fine Furry Finks!

This isn’t a stroll through the banana grove, folks—this is BigBoy Monthly Manifest, an intergalactic, tire-scorching, fist-pumping blitzkrieg of madness! This is your VIP seat in The Lobotomy Lounge, where sanity takes a vacation and evolution makes a screeching U-turn. It’s chrome-plated rebellion, volcanic visions, and enough raw energy to power a thousand jukeboxes.

Inside this primal monolith of mayhem, you’ll find screaming renegades, steel-fisted misfits, and tales from the cosmic edge—all drenched in grease, glory, and pure bedlam. We’re not playing small-ball here—this is king-sized chaos, cranked to eleven and shredding the rules with every twist of the throttle.

I, The Great Ape, your Electric Surgeon of Entropy, have combed the universe for the loudest, the rowdiest, and the most downright bananas stories ever told. From junkyard kings to galactic rogues, this manifesto is your roadmap to the screeching supernova of freedom and fury.

So rev up your engines, sharpen your wits, and ditch the brakes—it’s time to charge headfirst into the monumental madness of BigBoy Monthly Manifest. This is your moment to live BIG, swing HARD, and roar LOUDER than the void itself.

Strap in, my ferocious friends—because when The Great Ape is at the wheel, evolution doesn’t just stall—it takes a screaming U-turn. Let’s tear through the cosmos and leave nothing but tire marks and chaos in our wake.

Hold tight. Welcome to the ride. This is the Manifesto Maravillado at full throttle. It’s time to go BIG!

BigBoy Monthly Manifest – The Great Ape’s Guide to Cosmic Anarchy

A rare shot of the Bluesmobile jumping over the red Pinto scene.

Mort Kuntsler

Klaus Bürgle

H.J. Ward cover art for Spicy Mystery (August 1940)

Granny was a biker…

In the wild, untamed world of stock car racing, stories of grit, ingenuity, and sheer determination roar louder than any engine. One such tale, now immortalized in the annals of racing history, is Vittie Cothron’s mind-blowing feat on June 4, 1950. Piloting his trusty, battle-worn 1936 Ford Coupe, Vittie faced a mechanical disaster that would have sent most drivers packing. But Vittie wasn’t about to let a little thing like a busted accelerator linkage keep him off the podium.

As the dirt track thundered with roaring engines and a screaming crowd, Vittie hit the final lap full throttle—until disaster struck. The accelerator linkage on his car broke, cutting his ability to maintain speed. For most, this would’ve been the end of the race. Not for Vittie. With a level of quick thinking that could rival the Great Ape himself, Vittie reached through the open windshield, grabbed the carburetor with his right hand, and manually held it open to keep the engine roaring. With only his left hand on the wheel, he steered that beast of a car like a madman, refusing to bow out.

Against all odds, Vittie didn’t just finish the race; he crossed the line in third place! The crowd was electrified, and his fellow racers could hardly believe what they had witnessed. Vittie’s ingenious move wasn’t just a solution—it was a declaration of pure racing spirit, proving that no obstacle was too great for someone with the heart of a warrior and the determination of a true legend.

Vittie’s story isn’t just one of resilience; it’s a masterclass in creativity and courage. It’s a reminder that when faced with adversity, the bold find a way to grab life by the carburetor and make it sing. Vittie Cothron didn’t just drive that day—he conquered, earning his rightful place among the giants of racing lore.

Vittie was a driver who stared adversity in the face, grabbed it by the carburetor, and throttled his way into the madness of racing legend—The Great Ape loves this bloke, He’s Bananas!

Jungle Pam

A man and his paneled den, 1965.

Great EKO ad from the 60s

Born to be Wild…

The Casio CK-200 with built in Keyboard …

“Mickey’s critics like to point out his failures. He succeeded, however, at making Jayne happy for a while. His secret was extreme passivity under the guise of total indulgence … Mickey provided the quiet, super-masculine presence and Jayne provided the excitement.”

Stirling Moss in Monaco, 1955 – Silver Arrow

Cover art for “Weird Science-Fantasy #23” by Wally Wood, published by EC Comics, March 1954

Engines of Rebellion: Fuelling the Fire of Untamed Creativity

Ray Rikir 1961

Tommy Milton drove this Duesenberg to a third place finish in the Indianapolis 500 AAA Indy Car race at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, May 1920

“Look This Way and Smile” painted by Pearl Frush.

Frank Frazetta

Settle in for a cinematic masterpiece with the 1945 classic Leave Her to Heaven, starring the mesmerizing Gene Tierney. This film noir, often celebrated for its haunting beauty and psychological depth, weaves a tale of obsession, jealousy, and tragedy, all cloaked in stunning Technicolor. Directed by John M. Stahl and based on the novel by Ben Ames Williams, the film takes a sharp, unsettling dive into the darker recesses of love and human desire.

Gene Tierney delivers a powerhouse performance as Ellen Berent, a woman whose love knows no bounds—and no limits. Her portrayal earned her an Academy Award nomination, and it’s easy to see why. Ellen is captivating yet chilling, a character whose veneer of perfection conceals a dangerously obsessive nature. Opposite her, Cornel Wilde plays Richard Harland, the unwitting man caught in Ellen’s web of possessive love.

The film’s breathtaking visuals, with its richly saturated colors and idyllic landscapes, create a stark contrast to the dark psychological drama unfolding at its core. Leave Her to Heaven subverts expectations, offering viewers a noir experience unlike any other—where the shadows aren’t painted in black and white but in the vivid hues of a dream-turned-nightmare.

This movie’s a descent into the captivating and terrifying extremes of the human heart. The Great Ape says this is one to watch with the lights down and your wits sharp.

The Fog Horn by Ray Bradbury Art by Jame R. Bingham for the Saturday Evening Post 1951

Syd Mead

The legendary Moffat Ford Dealer Team Hardtop Cobra Coupes unleashed their fury at Mount Panorama in 1978, their 351 Cleveland engines shaking the mountain with every roaring lap. These machines were gladiators on wheels, their presence commanding the track and carving their legacy into Bathurst’s unforgiving asphalt.

Draped in their striking blue-and-white livery, the Cobra Coupes tore through Bathurst’s legendary twists and straights with precision and power. Mount Panorama became their proving ground, where their unrelenting speed and determination left competitors trailing in their wake. This wasn’t simply a race; it was the Moffat team’s stage, and they performed with an audacity that cemented their place in racing folklore.

Each lap was a symphony of raw power, grit, and engineering brilliance. Their relentless dominance was a display of horsepower and the spirit of motorsport distilled into every throttle, drift, and tire-squealing corner.

The Great Ape swings his banana in salute to these legends of Bathurst, who turned Mount Panorama into their domain and etched their names into Australian motorsport history. These Cobra Coupes remain icons of an era defined by courage, muscle, and the thunderous roar of greatness.

Yoko Tsuno 1972

A crusty old Hornby Skewes Zonk Machine. This one’s from around 1967 with Germanium/silicon hybrid circuit on veroboard. Tasty crackling tones with lots of harmonic content.

Mr. 413 1962 Plymouth Fury

Low

Nitro Dreams and Neon Realities: Tales of Unfiltered Mayhem

Guns, a woman showing flesh AND katana swords? Mort Kunstler, you have topped yourself! Painting from a 1963 issue of “Stag” magazine for a story titled “WWII’s Boldest Kidnap Raid”.

Thirst for Hurst

Mil Máscaras

Earle K. Bergey (American, 1901-1952). Shadow Over Mars

A traffic jam in New York City on Memorial Day Weekend, 1949

Magnificent in red and made by Alberto Vargas.

Gary Ruddell

Victor Olson

Sotheby’s Halloween auction paid homage to Hollywood’s golden age of horror with a dazzling collection of rare and iconic memorabilia. Among the standout pieces was a super-rare, original movie poster from Universal Pictures’ 1932 classic, The Mummy. This 86-year-old lithographic treasure, considered one of the most significant film posters in cinematic history, was estimated to fetch between $1 million and $1.5 million, as reported by The Observer.

This Mummy poster already holds a special place in auction history, having set the record for the most expensive film poster when it sold at Sotheby’s New York in 1997 for $453,500. Although that record was later surpassed, this auction provided an opportunity for the poster to reclaim its title, with experts predicting it might break the current record of $525,800, set in 2017 by a poster for Universal’s Dracula (1931), starring Karloff’s rival, Bela Lugosi.

Only three known examples of the original Mummy poster survive today, making it a rare and coveted artifact. Designed by Karoly Grosz, Universal Studios’ advertising art director, the poster is celebrated for its vivid painterly colors, dynamic composition, and minimal white space, elements that continue to influence graphic design to this day.

The poster’s imagery is iconic. It features Boris Karloff in his chilling role as The Mummy, his eyes shut and hands crossed over his chest, exuding an air of ancient mystery and menace. Beneath him, Zita Johann, the object of his undead obsession, is depicted in a striking red V-neck gown. The tagline, “It comes to life!”, promises thrills and intrigue to audiences.

Originally created solely for theatrical promotion, the poster was never intended for public sale. Its cultural importance was highlighted when it was displayed in a 1999 exhibition at New York’s Whitney Museum and later at Sotheby’s from October 14 to 18.

The Mummy’s enduring appeal lies not just in its cinematic legacy but also in the remarkable preservation of this artifact. “You rarely see colors in any poster as well-preserved as these,” noted John Maher, Sotheby’s prints specialist, in a statement to Reuters. “This is a truly exceptional example of an image that was impactful from the start.”

Metallica’s Kirk Hammett, an avid collector of vintage horror memorabilia, is rumored to own one of the other surviving Mummy posters. Hammett’s passion for horror art has been celebrated in exhibitions like It’s Alive! Classic Horror and Sci-Fi Art from the Kirk Hammett Collection. Over three decades, Hammett has built a collection that includes iconic pieces such as the 1931 Frankenstein poster and the angular, haunting design of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1921).

The Mummy poster represents more than just collectible memorabilia; it is a testament to the artistry and cultural significance of classic horror cinema. Alongside other treasures from the golden age of horror, this poster continues to captivate with its vivid color, monstrous imagery, and timeless allure, proving that the legacy of early horror remains as powerful as ever. As bidding began at $950,000, Sotheby’s Halloween auction was a celebration of history, artistry, and the undying fascination with the macabre.

Norman Saunders

Mission Devolution: Where Rules Go to Die

John Carter and Dejah Thoris pin-up art by Joseph Michael Linsner

Alexandre Pelletier, French

Pin-up art painted by Enoch Bolles, 1930s.

In 1969, Syd Barrett, the iconic founder of Pink Floyd, was living a surreal and detached existence, a stark contrast to the meteoric rise of the band he had shaped. During this period of growing isolation, legendary photographer Mick Rock captured a series of evocative images of Barrett, including a notable photo shoot at Earl’s Court. One particularly striking photograph features Barrett alongside the enigmatic Iggy the Eskimo, born Evelyn Rose, whose presence added an almost mythical quality to the scene. This image, with Barrett’s disheveled appearance and Iggy’s whimsical energy, perfectly encapsulated the psychedelic spirit and underlying fragility of London in the late 1960s.

The late 1960s were a time of cultural upheaval, with London serving as the epicenter of counterculture movements. Syd Barrett, celebrated for his groundbreaking creativity and hauntingly unique charm, embodied the era’s rebellious and avant-garde ethos. As the mastermind behind Pink Floyd’s early classics like “Interstellar Overdrive” and “Astronomy Domine”, Barrett helped pioneer psychedelic rock, forever altering the musical landscape. However, by 1969, Barrett’s mental health had begun to unravel, and his increasingly erratic behavior led to his departure from the band in 1968. This phase of his life, marked by both artistic brilliance and personal crisis, fascinated fans and further cemented his status as a cultural enigma.

The photo shoot at Earl’s Court—a venue synonymous with London’s vibrant music scene—occurred during Barrett’s fleeting yet profound reign as a psychedelic icon. Mick Rock, who would go on to document the glam rock era with his vivid portraits, had already begun to capture the raw essence of rock legends. His image of Barrett and Iggy stands as a visual reflection of the psychedelic burnout that defined the lives of many musicians during that era. Barrett’s eccentric, vulnerable persona juxtaposed with Iggy’s carefree, alternative aura created a snapshot that feels both whimsical and deeply melancholic.

This photograph symbolizes the dual nature of the 1960s music scene—a collision of artistic brilliance and emotional fragility. It was a time when rock and roll, rebellion, and art merged, but also when the pressures of fame and experimentation took their toll on artists like Barrett. While his personal life spiraled into isolation, his influence on music remained immense, inspiring generations of musicians and fans.

Mick Rock’s iconic photograph remains a poignant reminder of Barrett’s enduring legacy and the fleeting magic of London’s psychedelic revolution. It captures not only a pivotal moment in Barrett’s life but also the essence of an era defined by creativity, chaos, and transformation.

Quark (TV series) Cyb and Patricia Barnstable …

“Cycletron” Show Trike, 1973

Love is Love

Rita Hayworth, the radiant “Love Goddess” of Hollywood’s golden era, captivated audiences with her dazzling beauty, electrifying performances, and magnetic presence. Born Margarita Carmen Cansino on October 17, 1918, in Brooklyn, New York, Hayworth danced her way into the hearts of moviegoers before cementing her legacy as one of cinema’s most iconic stars.

Her transformation from the shy daughter of Spanish dancers into a bombshell leading lady is the stuff of Hollywood legend. By the 1940s, Hayworth had become the epitome of glamour, with roles in films like Gilda (1946)—where her unforgettable rendition of “Put the Blame on Mame” left an indelible mark on popular culture. Draped in a satin gown and flipping her fiery locks, Hayworth redefined seduction, making Gilda a character for the ages.

Off-screen, Hayworth’s life was a whirlwind of fame, romance, and resilience. Her marriages, including one to Prince Aly Khan, turned her into Hollywood royalty, while her struggles with the pressures of stardom revealed her vulnerability beneath the dazzling exterior. Yet, through it all, Hayworth remained a symbol of strength and grace, forever embodying the glamour of a bygone era.

Whether lighting up the screen with Fred Astaire in You Were Never Lovelier (1942) or captivating audiences with her dramatic depth in The Lady from Shanghai (1947), Hayworth’s versatility and charisma made her a true legend of the silver screen.

The Great Ape bows deeply to Rita Hayworth, a shining star who turned every scene into magic and every performance into timeless art. Bananas up for the goddess who will forever reign in the hearts of film lovers everywhere!

Atomic bomb test dummies

Miss M M

1953 Triumph Trophy Flat-Track Racer

Thurst for Hurst – The Lovely Linda Vaughn

Sacred Scrolls of Rebellion: Writing the Future in Flames

Jimmy Page: The Guitar Legend Who Made the Blues His Own

“I wanted to have my own approach to what I did. I didn’t want to … do a carbon copy of B.B. King, but I really love the blues. The blues had so much effect on me, and I just wanted to make my own contribution in my own way.”

For Jimmy Page, the blues weren’t just a genre—they were a revelation, a spark that lit the fire of one of the greatest musical careers in history. And that spark ignited with a song that changed his life: Lonnie Donegan’s “Rock Island Line.” A hit in England in 1955, Donegan’s skiffle take on the American blues tune about the Chicago, Rock Island, and Pacific Railroad line captivated the young Page. Originally recorded by John and Alan Lomax in an Arkansas prison and later popularized by blues legend Lead Belly, “Rock Island Line” bridged continents and generations, and for Page, it became a bridge to his destiny.

Page’s journey with the guitar began in a classroom moment that was as simple as it was transformative. Hearing his classmate Rod Wyatt play the song on a guitar, Page was compelled to try it himself. He brought in his own guitar—a humble campfire model with all its strings miraculously intact—and Rod showed him the basics: how to tune it and play a few chords. “It was a campfire guitar … but it did have all the strings on it which is pretty useful because I wouldn’t have known where to get guitar strings from,” Page recalled.

With the basics in hand, Page started strumming. “Not quite like Lonnie Donegan,” he admitted, “but I was having a go.” That “go” would evolve into a mastery of the instrument that would define rock music for generations.

Lonnie Donegan was a towering influence, not only for Page but for an entire wave of 1960s guitarists. As Page explained, “Donegan took the past, owned the present, and influenced a generation of great rock musicians.” Donegan’s ability to take traditional American blues, infuse it with skiffle energy, and make it uniquely his own resonated deeply. “He really understood all that stuff,” Page said. “By the time you get to the end of ‘Rock Island Line,’ he’s really spitting it out … you really get this whole staccato aspect of it. It’s fantastic stuff!”

For Jimmy Page, Donegan wasn’t just an influence—he was a catalyst. That first spark of inspiration led Page to develop a style that paid homage to the blues while innovating and pushing its boundaries. With Led Zeppelin, he took those roots and created something revolutionary—a contribution to music that was entirely his own, yet forever grounded in the legacy of the blues.

The Great Ape salutes Jimmy Page, a guitarist who transformed the past into something new and powerful, carrying the staccato energy of “Rock Island Line” into the immortal riffs of rock and roll.

Customs – Realistic Flames by Eddie Paul!

Kato…

Chicks Dig Pie Cut Cheater Slicks!

Edward Hopper, Sunlight on Brownstones, 1956.

I was made to scare you…

Joyce Ballantyne

On January 7th, 1971, Black Sabbath unleashed a sonic revolution with the U.S. release of their groundbreaking second album, Paranoid. Featuring legendary tracks like “Iron Man” and “Paranoid,” the album didn’t just make waves—it forged an entirely new genre. Peaking at number 12 on the U.S. Billboard 200 chart, it marked the band’s first major breakthrough in America, solidifying their place in rock history.

With its heavy riffs, ominous themes, and Tony Iommi’s signature guitar work, Paranoid became a cornerstone of heavy metal. Tracks like “Iron Man” weren’t just songs—they were anthems, defining the identity of Black Sabbath and influencing countless artists in the years to come. The record’s raw, unrelenting power pushed boundaries, blending dark, gritty lyrics with a revolutionary sound that would set the stage for decades of metal music.

At the time of its release, Paranoid was a seismic shift in the musical landscape. In an era dominated by psychedelic and progressive rock, Black Sabbath’s raw, heavy sound stood apart, capturing both rock enthusiasts and mainstream audiences alike. The album’s ability to transcend genres was nothing short of remarkable, proving that powerful, authentic music could resonate universally.

What makes Paranoid timeless is its enduring influence on modern music. Decades later, its riffs and themes still echo in the works of countless bands, cementing its status as a blueprint for heavy metal. The album not only propelled Black Sabbath into superstardom but also laid the foundation for an entire genre, inspiring a legion of followers who would carry its legacy forward.

The Great Ape bows to the genius of Paranoid, an album that roared through the rock world and changed it forever. Even today, it remains a monument to the power of heavy metal, standing as both a tribute to Black Sabbath’s unparalleled artistry and a testament to the enduring might of rock and roll. Paranoid is more than music—it’s an untamed force that continues to captivate generations.

Sicodelico Jr.

Jack Gaughan (1930-1985)

Frankie set to Grab …

Total Beast XA Hardtop..

Tough XY

Settle in for some blood-soaked, gothic mayhem with The Satanic Rites of Dracula (1973), a deliciously campy Hammer Horror masterpiece starring the legendary Christopher Lee as the Prince of Darkness and Peter Cushing as his eternal nemesis, Van Helsing. This film takes the classic vampire lore you know and love and catapults it into the 1970s with a blend of black magic, espionage, and sinister corporate schemes.

The plot? Oh, it’s gloriously bonkers. Dracula has traded his crumbling Transylvanian castle for the fog-drenched streets of modern London. But he’s not just drinking blood this time—he’s dabbling in apocalyptic plans, using an evil cult and a deadly biological weapon to wipe out humanity. If Dracula can’t reign over the living, why not just end the whole game?

Cushing’s Van Helsing is as sharp as ever, unraveling the Count’s twisted conspiracy with the same mix of scholarly poise and heroic determination that made him a horror icon. Lee, meanwhile, oozes menace as Dracula, commanding every scene with a terrifying gravitas that makes you question why anyone would dare cross him. Add a secret-agent vibe, occult rituals, and some unmistakably ’70s aesthetics, and you’ve got a movie that’s equal parts eerie and irresistibly groovy.

Hammer’s lush visuals and atmospheric set pieces are on full display here, with scenes drenched in ominous red lighting, foggy graveyards, and gothic grandeur. The film may veer into the absurd at times, but that’s half the charm—it’s a campy, over-the-top ride that never takes itself too seriously.

The Great Ape raises a banana chalice to this wild slice of horror history. The Satanic Rites of Dracula is a late-night feast of cult vibes, gothic chills, and Christopher Lee at his most sinister. Fangs out—it’s time to embrace the madness!

Maria, the iconic creation from Fritz Lang’s Metropolis, stands immortalized in this towering sculpture on the historic grounds of Babelsberg Studio in Potsdam, Germany. As the second large-scale film studio in the world and a forerunner to Hollywood, Babelsberg is where cinematic dreams first took shape—and Metropolis, premiering 97 years ago, remains one of its most enduring legacies.

This striking statue captures the essence of Maria, the mechanical muse who symbolized both progress and peril. With her outstretched arm pointing toward the future, she invites us into the dystopian world of Metropolis, a visually groundbreaking tale of humanity’s uneasy relationship with technology. Fritz Lang’s visionary masterpiece not only shaped the science fiction genre but continues to inspire filmmakers, artists, and dreamers alike.

Babelsberg Studio, still producing films to this day, stands as a testament to the timeless power of cinema. The Great Ape salutes Maria and her eternal presence as a beacon of cinematic brilliance—bold, visionary, and unforgettable.

Three girls at bar, Senator Hotel, Atlantic City, 1948. (Photo by Nina Leen)

Alex Schomburg

Fence overlooking the ‘grassy knoll’ in Dallas. “Your (sic) the patsy” graffiti

“My Teacher Is An Alien” by Bruce Coville

Cover artwork by George Gross for a 1951 crime novel.

Wally Wood, GALAXY magazine, 1959

Frontal Liberation: Unleashing the Madness Within

Harold W. McCauley.

Thirst for Hurst…

70’s Custom

Shusei Nagaoka

Beasty Fairlane…

Weird Tales of The Future #6, 1953. Cover by Bernard Baily.

Ed Valigursky

Uncle Gilbert and The Munsters, 1965.

On November 25, 1963, the world’s attention was fixed on the solemn, televised funeral of President John F. Kennedy, whose assassination had plunged the nation into mourning. Yet, away from the grandeur of Arlington National Cemetery, a far quieter and more peculiar burial was taking place in Fort Worth, Texas. Lee Harvey Oswald, Kennedy’s alleged assassin, was laid to rest under extraordinary and grim circumstances at Rose Hill Cemetery.

Captured in this black-and-white photograph by Gene Gordon, chief photographer of the Fort Worth Press, Oswald’s funeral remains a haunting footnote to one of the most tragic chapters in American history. With no mourners beyond Oswald’s immediate family—his widow Marina, their two daughters, his brother Robert, and his mother Marguerite—there were not enough attendees to serve as pallbearers. In an unprecedented move, seven reporters covering the funeral were enlisted to carry the casket.

Among these reluctant pallbearers were Mike Cochran of the Associated Press (AP), Ed Horn of the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, Jerry Flemmons of the Star-Telegram, Jon “Bunky” McConal of the Star-Telegram, and Preston McGraw of United Press International (UPI). Three additional pallbearers remain unidentified in Gordon’s photograph.

The peculiarities of Oswald’s burial began even before the ceremony. The gravediggers had been misled, told they were digging a grave for a man named “William Bobo,” to avoid any protests or media attention. The ceremony was hastily arranged, with a heavy presence of Secret Service agents, FBI officials, and local police standing guard.

Adding to the surreal nature of the funeral, the original officiating Lutheran ministers withdrew at the last moment after learning that the service would be conducted outdoors, fearing potential sniper attacks. The Reverend Louis Saunders, an interdenominational Christian minister who had come as an observer, reluctantly stepped in at the request of Marguerite Oswald. His words—“We are not here to judge, only to commit for burial Lee Harvey Oswald”—were delivered in hushed tones, accompanied by the quiet sobbing of Oswald’s mother and widow.

As former AP reporter Mike Cochran later recounted:
“With no mourners around to serve as pallbearers, it was a task that fell to me and a few other reporters covering the funeral of John F. Kennedy’s assassin. Fifty years later, I remain a reluctant and minor footnote in American history.”

Cochran described the bizarre moment when the reporters realized they would have to carry out the burial themselves:
“Jerry Flemmons of the Fort Worth Star-Telegram turned to me and said, ‘Cochran, if we’re gonna write a story about the burial of Lee Harvey Oswald, we’re gonna have to bury the son of a bitch ourselves.’”

Reluctantly, the reporters carried the plain pine coffin to the gravesite. Before it was lowered, the lid was opened briefly, allowing Marina Oswald and Marguerite to see the body one last time. As UPI reporter Preston McGraw recalled, “One at a time, quickly, the two women bent down and kissed the corpse.”

The burial of Lee Harvey Oswald took place at 4:28 p.m., shortly after the world had witnessed the dignified, tear-filled interment of President Kennedy. In stark contrast to the somber pageantry of Arlington, Oswald’s funeral was simple, subdued, and profoundly strange, a quiet end to the life of a man whose actions forever changed the course of history.

This moment remains one of the most peculiar and little-discussed episodes in the aftermath of the Kennedy assassination, a stark reminder of the chaotic days that followed November 22, 1963.

Other Worlds Science Stories – April 1956 – Magazine Cover Poster – Virgil Finlay

Caroll Shelby

An Iron Giant of Nostalgia to Nitro

Sean Young as Rachael in Blade Runner was a casting decision as enigmatic and layered as the character herself. Ridley Scott’s 1982 sci-fi masterpiece didn’t just push the boundaries of visual storytelling; it also ignited debates that still linger, with Sean Young’s portrayal of the replicant Rachael at the center of it all. The Great Ape applauds this electrifying gamble, a performance that captured the fragile balance between machine precision and suppressed humanity in a way that echoes across cinematic history.

The search for Rachael wasn’t a straightforward journey. Scott and his team needed someone who could embody an impossible dichotomy: cold, distant sophistication paired with a deep vulnerability that hints at buried emotions. Industry veterans like Barbara Hershey were considered, but it was the relatively unknown Sean Young who stepped into the role. With only a handful of credits to her name, Young’s striking presence and fresh-faced allure set her apart. Still, critics and insiders questioned whether she could handle such a complex role in a film that would ultimately redefine sci-fi cinema.

On set, the pressure was relentless. Ridley Scott’s demanding perfectionism created an intense atmosphere for everyone involved, and Young, still finding her place in Hollywood, felt the brunt of it. Add to this the famously strained dynamic between Young and co-star Harrison Ford, and you’d think the odds were stacked against her. Yet, rather than detract from the final product, these tensions fueled the on-screen relationship between Deckard and Rachael, making their interactions crackle with raw, uneasy energy.

Young’s portrayal of Rachael was divisive at first. Some critics saw her performance as restrained, even wooden, while others hailed her ability to balance the character’s replicant detachment with the fragile emergence of human emotion. Decades later, the consensus has shifted. Her performance now stands as a cornerstone of the film’s exploration of identity and humanity, with Rachael’s journey from a programmed existence to an awakened sense of self remaining one of Blade Runner’s most poignant arcs.

Visually, Sean Young’s Rachael became an icon. The noir-inspired costumes, the meticulous cinematography, and Young’s own magnetic presence combined to create a character who was as much a part of the film’s aesthetic as its rain-drenched streets and glowing cityscapes. The Voight-Kampff test scene, where Rachael’s composed façade begins to crack, is a masterclass in subtlety, with Young delivering a performance that is both chilling and heartbreakingly vulnerable.

Despite the acclaim for Blade Runner today, its initial reception was lukewarm, and the film’s rocky start impacted Young’s career trajectory. While she appeared in notable films like No Way Out (1987) and Wall Street (1987), rumors of difficult behavior and Hollywood politics cast a shadow over her talent. The industry may not have given her the recognition she deserved, but fans and critics alike have come to view her portrayal of Rachael as one of Blade Runner’s defining achievements.

Young’s legacy in the Blade Runner universe was further solidified with Blade Runner 2049 (2017). Though she didn’t reprise the role traditionally, her likeness was resurrected through CGI, a poignant reminder of the enduring impact of her original performance. This digital homage not only honored Young’s contribution to the franchise but also reinforced the timeless nature of Rachael as a character.

Sean Young’s Rachael is more than a performance—it’s a cultural touchstone, a haunting reflection of Blade Runner’s central themes of memory, identity, and what it means to be human. The Great Ape salutes this bold and fearless portrayal, one that continues to inspire and mesmerize audiences. Rachael endures as a timeless emblem of cinema’s power to challenge profound and unsettling truths. The Great Ape loves you, Sean.

Debbie and Nancy Spungen c 1978. “We knew Nancy from the scene. She was smart. I only met Sid briefly. I don’t think he killed her” – Chris Stein

Granny was a biker…

Veronica Lake, the quintessential femme fatale of Hollywood’s golden age, was a captivating force whose iconic peek-a-boo hairstyle and enigmatic charm left an indelible mark on cinema. Born Constance Frances Marie Ockelman on November 14, 1922, in Brooklyn, New York, Lake’s rise to stardom was meteoric, earning her a place among the most alluring actresses of the 1940s.

Her breakthrough role in I Wanted Wings (1941) showcased her ethereal beauty and undeniable talent, but it was her performances in films like This Gun for Hire (1942), The Glass Key (1942), and The Blue Dahlia (1946) that solidified her status as the ultimate noir goddess. Lake’s chemistry with frequent co-star Alan Ladd became the stuff of legend, their on-screen pairings embodying the dark, seductive allure of the film noir genre.

Off-screen, Lake was as enigmatic as her characters—fiercely independent, yet often misunderstood. Her peek-a-boo hairstyle, which became a wartime sensation, even led to a request from the U.S. government to adopt a more practical style to encourage safety among working women.

Despite her career highs, Lake’s life was marked by personal struggles, yet her resilience and legacy remain a testament to her enduring allure. Her presence on-screen was magnetic, her performances layered with both mystery and vulnerability that made her unforgettable.

The Great Ape raises his banana in homage to this golden-haired legend—an actress who didn’t just light up the screen but defined an era with a single glance. Veronica Lake, forever a shimmering icon in the stars of Hollywood’s night sky.

Painted in 1957 by Ben-Hur Baz this work is titled “It’s a Gift”

RoboCop vol 2 #19 | Cover art by Lee Sullivan

Don Marquez

Life imitating Art?

Mort Kunstler.

Mercedes Fidelity Unit from 1965. A TV, a phone, a mini fridge, and a radio

In 1968, the brilliant and unmistakable Basil Wolverton lent his unique talent to a fascinating test project for Topps called “Hang-Ups.” These were to be full-color cards featuring Wolverton’s trademark grotesque caricatures, a style that had already cemented him as one of the most distinctive illustrators of his time. Overseen by Bhob Stewart, a Topps manager who would later become a noted movie reviewer for Heavy Metal, the project seemed poised to bring Wolverton’s absurd and grotesque creations to a new generation of fans.

The idea was simple yet daring: a gallery of Wolverton grotesques, rendered in vivid color, designed to shock, amuse, and maybe even horrify kids in equal measure. It was a bold move, tapping into Wolverton’s unrivaled ability to create images that were hilariously over-the-top and grotesquely charming.

However, the “Hang-Ups” project never made it past the testing phase. When shown to a focus group of Brooklyn schoolchildren, the cards were an instant hit with the kids. They loved the bizarre and exaggerated characters Wolverton had created. But there was one glaring problem: the kids were unanimous in their belief that their parents would never let them have these cards. Despite the clear enthusiasm from the target audience, the predicted backlash from concerned parents led Topps to abandon the project.

The test set included 12 original designs that perfectly encapsulated Wolverton’s unmatchable aesthetic. The packaging itself also featured his signature zany style, promising an unforgettable (and possibly unsettling) experience for anyone daring enough to purchase a pack.

Though the project was scrapped, “Hang-Ups” remains a tantalizing “what could have been” in the world of trading cards and Basil Wolverton’s career. These rejected cards, full of vibrant colors and Wolverton’s signature absurdity, have become a fascinating footnote in the history of collectible pop culture. Fans and collectors continue to cherish these rare glimpses of what might have been, celebrating Wolverton’s audacious creativity and his ability to push the boundaries of mainstream art—even if it occasionally pushed them too far.

This short-lived collaboration is a reminder of Wolverton’s enduring legacy as a master of the grotesque and the power of his work to captivate and challenge audiences, no matter the medium.

Darrell K. Sweet

In 1987, Casio pushed the boundaries of digital watch innovation with the release of the Casio TM-100, a gadget that’s as fascinating as it is rare today. Back in the heyday of digital watches, manufacturers like Casio were in an arms race to incorporate groundbreaking features into their designs. The TM-100 was no exception—it came with an extraordinary function: the ability to transmit voice over an FM frequency signal.

Here’s how it worked: By tuning a radio to an empty FM band, users could speak into the TM-100 or play music, broadcasting their voice or sound to any local radio network tuned into the watch’s transmitting frequency. While the transmission range was capped at a 100-meter radius in optimal conditions, urban environments typically reduced that to somewhere between 10 and 60 meters. Still, this was a monumental leap for wearable tech, combining radio transmission with a wristwatch in a sleek, futuristic package.

At a time when digital watches were expected to do far more than just tell time, the TM-100 stood out as a marvel of miniaturized technology. It wasn’t just a watch—it was a conversation piece, a party trick, and a symbol of cutting-edge innovation.

Today, the Casio TM-100 is a rare find, cherished by collectors and tech enthusiasts alike. With only a limited number ever produced, owning one of these unique pieces is like holding a slice of 1980s tech history on your wrist. The Great Ape tips his banana to this marvel of the digital watch era—a timepiece that dared to dream big and transmit its way into the annals of gadgetry legend.

Phil “Philthy Animal” Taylor

Phil “Philthy Animal” Taylor was a primal force, a thunderous hurricane of rebellion, and the relentless pulse behind Motörhead’s feral roar. Born on September 21, 1954, in Hasland, Derbyshire, England, Taylor brought an intensity to heavy music that burned brighter and louder than the chaos he unleashed. He didn’t merely play drums—he attacked them, hammering out beats that sounded like an engine of destruction revving up to annihilate anything in its path. The Great Ape salutes this wild legend, a man who made rhythm scream like a banshee.

When Taylor joined Motörhead in 1975, he didn’t settle into the shadows; he powered the band like a runaway locomotive. Alongside Lemmy Kilmister and “Fast” Eddie Clarke, Taylor formed a trio that tore through the rock landscape with the subtlety of a wrecking ball. Albums like Overkill (1979), Bomber (1979), and the immortal Ace of Spades (1980) didn’t just make noise—they rewrote the rulebook on what music could be: raw, loud, and absolutely merciless. Taylor’s drumming didn’t just drive the songs forward; it launched them into orbit with unrelenting speed and power.

When Taylor slammed into tracks like “Overkill”, he wasn’t merely providing a backbeat; he was leading a war charge. His relentless double-bass drumming became the sound of pure adrenaline—fast, ferocious, and untamed. Tracks like “Ace of Spades” turned him into the beating heart of Motörhead’s signature sound: an explosive cocktail of punk’s filthy swagger and metal’s crushing power. His wild fills and relentless energy inspired legions of drummers and fans alike, embodying the chaos that Motörhead stood for.

Offstage, Taylor was the living embodiment of Motörhead’s ethos: wild, rebellious, and completely untethered. Nicknamed “Philthy Animal”, his antics became the stuff of legend, a perfect match for the band’s no-holds-barred lifestyle. Whether smashing drum kits or diving headfirst into the madness of the road, Taylor lived every beat he played. He was the perfect foil to Lemmy’s stoic chaos and Eddie’s searing guitar, creating a sound that tore through genres like a chainsaw through steel.

Even after stepping away in 1984, Taylor’s connection to Motörhead remained unbreakable. He returned in 1987, proving his fire hadn’t dimmed. Whether it was on Rock ’n’ Roll or 1916, Taylor’s drumming continued to push boundaries, fueling Motörhead’s unrelenting assault on the senses. Though his second departure in 1992 marked the end of his tenure, his contributions had already been etched into rock’s eternal fabric.

On November 11, 2015, the world lost this chaotic genius, but his thunderous legacy continues to resonate. Philthy Animal Taylor was more than a drummer for Motörhead—he was a wrecking ball of sound and fury, the raw heartbeat of rebellion, and the fire that made heavy music burn brighter. Every beat he played, every stage he decimated, was a full-throttle declaration of defiance against the ordinary.

The Great Ape cranks the volume to 11 for this feral legend. Philthy Animal didn’t just play the drums—he turned them into an unstoppable force of nature. Let his legacy rumble through the cosmos, loud, wild, and unapologetically untamed. Rest in power, Philthy Animal—you magnificent beast!

Motörhead/Phil (‘Philthy Animal’) Taylor: An original Camco drum kit with shark motif bass drumskins.

1970’s, mirror finish, comprising; two 24 x 14inch bass drums each fitted with original front skins bearing shark teeth motifs and with an original Motörhead sticker, two original black wooden front head hoops, an 18inch floor Tom, a 16inch hanging Tom, a 15inch hanging Tom, and a 14inch hanging Tom. ‘Cloud’ badge. Each drum head on the Toms fitted with a clear Remo CS Black Dot. Accompanied by three vintage drum cases including a Le Blond bass drum case, one double braced double tom stand, various spare Remo CS Black Dot clear heads and various spare Camco lugs, dampers, and accessories. Sold for £18,750 inc. premium 13 December 2017

Ed Emshwiller “Science Fiction Digest”

Devolution Underway: Welcome to the Asylum of Chaos

Debbie, Suzi Quatro and Joan LA 1978

Andy Warhol at Gristede’s on 2nd Avenue in New York City, taken by Bob Adelman for Esquire, 1964.

Norm Eastman

Michael Whelan

In 1985’s Pee-wee’s Big Adventure, the metal mayhem of Twisted Sister collided with the quirky genius of Pee-wee Herman in an unforgettable cameo. The unlikely pairing came about after frontman Dee Snider and comedian Paul Reubens bonded at an MTV New Year’s Eve party, proving that metalheads and quirky comedians can indeed find common ground.

The scene materialized when Twisted Sister was in California opening for Iron Maiden, and Reubens called Snider with an idea. Pee-wee would be chased by Santa Claus and Godzilla through a Twisted Sister video shoot. Naturally, Snider and the band jumped at the chance to be part of the chaotic brilliance.

What song would they perform in this bizarre cameo? Snider expected one of their big hits, asking Reubens, “‘What, like We’re Not Gonna Take It or I Wanna Rock?’” But Pee-wee had a deeper cut in mind, responding, “No, man. Burn in Hell!” Snider’s reaction? Pure metal joy: “I’m like, ‘Yes, Pee-wee! Burn in Hell! Metal!’”

The result was a scene that blended Twisted Sister’s rebellious energy with Pee-wee’s zany antics, creating a moment of pure ’80s magic. The Great Ape raises his banana to this rock-meets-quirk masterpiece—because when Pee-wee Herman picks Burn in Hell for his movie, you know you’ve struck cinematic gold.

Edward Hopper – Compartment C Car (1938)

Bruce Lee and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar on set of “Game of Death” (1978)

75 Schwinn Advertisement.

Louis Servedio-Morales – Homage to Edward Hopper

Motorcyclist Triss Sharp and his pet lion cub mascot at Crystal Palace in London. April 1930

Bill Ward was an excellent pin-up artist, especially in how he used white in his illustrations. This pin-up originally appeared in “Humorama”.

Real Men Publication 1967

The Lobotomy Lounge: Where Sanity Takes a Vacation

“How to be a Welder” painted by Vaughan Bass. This pin-up appeared in a 1957 calendar

Granny was a biker …

Felino

Tina Louise (Ginger)

The Fabulous Hudson Hornet blazed its way into racing history with a 145-hp L-6 engine, remarkable handling from its “step-down” unibody chassis, and the expertise of top-tier drivers. Between 1951 and 1955, the Hornet claimed an incredible 81 NASCAR race wins and multiple championships, defining an era of motorsport excellence.

This particular Hornet carries an unmatched legacy. Prepared by the legendary Smokey Yunick, it was entrusted to Herb Thomas, NASCAR’s most dominant Hudson driver. With this car, Thomas achieved 78 podium finishes and set a record for the highest win percentage in NASCAR history, a feat that still stands today.

The Hornet stands alone as a surviving relic of NASCAR’s golden age. It is the only Hudson Hornet known to have competed in NASCAR that remains today. Its legacy was further immortalized by Pixar’s Cars (2006), where it inspired the beloved character Doc Hudson. Recognizing its profound historical significance, the Hornet became the 31st vehicle added to the National Historic Vehicle Register.

This is more than a car—it’s a cornerstone of racing history, a testament to grit, innovation, and determination. The Great Ape raises a celebratory banana to this titan of the track, a true champion that paved its way into motorsport immortality.

Getting ready for a sun bath, 1938.

Edward Hopper Conference at night

Astronaut Gordon Cooper undergoes a pressurization test for his suit in preparation for the final flight of Project Mercury, May 1963

Louis Servedio-Mirales Travelling in light

1963 THE OUTER LIMITS – “The Sixth Finger” (S1 Ep5)

Lana Turner, the “Sweater Girl” whose name became synonymous with Hollywood glamour, was a star whose beauty and charisma transcended the silver screen. Born Julia Jean Turner on February 8, 1921, in Wallace, Idaho, Lana’s journey from small-town girl to one of MGM’s most bankable stars is the stuff of cinematic legend. Discovered as a teenager sipping a soda at a Hollywood drugstore, her rise to fame was as dazzling as her on-screen presence.

Turner captivated audiences with her performances in classics like The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946) and Peyton Place (1957), where her blend of vulnerability and allure brought depth to her characters. Her personal life, marked by high-profile romances and scandals, often mirrored the drama of her film roles, adding to her mystique.

Lana’s signature look—a platinum blonde bombshell with a piercing gaze and impeccable style—made her a fashion icon of the 1940s and ’50s. But beyond her beauty was a talented actress who could convey emotional complexity, whether in noir thrillers or sweeping melodramas. Her enduring legacy lies in her ability to mesmerize audiences and her indomitable spirit in the face of Hollywood’s highs and lows.

The Great Ape tips his banana in admiration of this timeless Hollywood queen—a true star who shone brightly in an era of legends.

Harlem, New York City in the 1970s

Alex Schomburg

Debs reading the paper…

True Men 1966

Art by George Opperman for Missile Command (Atari, 1980)

Painted in 1957 by Ben-Hur Baz this work is titled “It’s a Gift”

Why is she laughing?
Because she knows they’re still going to miss, even at that distance.

Give me the willies…

George Gross cover art for “See for Men”, September 1962

AVROCAR VZ-9AV (us 1952-1961)

New York Movie (1939) by Edward Hoppe

Imagination Magazine June 1954 – This entire issue can be downloaded here

Turbocharged Truth: Tales from the Edge of Evolution

Women wearing oversized masks on the beach in Venice, circa 1930.

Signature Mort Kunstler art that appeared in 1953 issue of “Saga” magazine.

Shigeru Komatsuzaki

Smokem’ if you gottem’!

Earl Norem’s pulp art from “Action For Men”, May 1966.

Real Men 1959

Science Fiction pulp magazine cover, June 1956 – This entire issue can be downloaded here

Victor Olson

Ed Valigursky

Monkey Business

Tracking those UFOs from SHADO Moonbase …

Stocking stuffer. Classic pin-up art by Gil Elvgren

Love potion number 9

Samson Pollen

What goes on tour stays on tour!

Congratulations, my chrome-hearted misfits and chaos-craving daredevils! You’ve throttled through the BigBoy Monthly Manifest with the ferocity of a nitro-fueled beast, and The Great Ape salutes your wild spirit! You’ve embraced the madness, devoured the grit, and left a trail of glorious destruction in your wake. Now stand tall and let the universe hear your defiant roar!

Welcome to the End of Sanity and the Beginning of Freedom!

This is a session in The Lobotomy Lounge, where reality rewires itself, and evolution takes a screaming U-turn. Manifesto Maravillado delivers a high-voltage dose of experimental brain surgery, tearing away the mundane and unleashing raw, untamed chaos. It’s sacred scripture for those who reject the norm and rewrite the rules with every reckless, roaring turn.

With The Great Ape as your Electric Surgeon of Entropy, you’ve conquered midnight wastelands, shattered the confines of conformity, and claimed your place among the anarchic elite. Here, the rules of gravity, conformity, and common sense are shattered beneath your stomping boots, and the only direction is forward—fast and ferocious.

Picture forgotten wastelands lit by neon dreams, drag strips that defy time itself, and tales dripping with sweat, smoke, and rebellion. This is no quiet ride into the void—this is a declaration of defiance, grit, and raw power.

But the chaos doesn’t end here, my fellow pioneers of pandemonium. The next issue looms on the horizon like a chrome-plated beast, promising even wilder adventures, louder roars, and bigger explosions of untamed creativity. The Great Ape is already revving the engines—are you ready to go full throttle once more?

Fuel your engines, raise your fists, and let your rebel hearts blaze my Knuckle Dragging Nincompoops. Until next time, my maniacs, keep it loud, keep it wild, and keep it gloriously unhinged. EXPERIMENT COMPLETE— STAGE 1 DEVOLUTION ACHIEVED!