1947-Woman commits suicide by jumping out of the Empire state building. LIFE magazine publishes picture.

In May 1947, LIFE magazine devoted a full page to a picture taken by a photography student named Robert Wiles. The photograph is extraordinary in several ways — not least because it remains, seven decades later, one of the most famous portraits of suicide ever made. Along with Malcolm Browne’s 1963 image of a self-immolating Buddhist monk and a small handful of other photos of men and women seen before, during, or after their own self-slaughter, Wiles’ picture graphically and unforgettably captures the destruction—both literal and figurative—that attends virtually all suicides.

The woman in the photo was 23-year-old Evelyn McHale. Not much is known of her life, or of her final hours, although countless people have put enormous effort into uncovering as much about the troubled, attractive California native as they possibly could. For example, the tremendous visual-culture blog Codex 99 has an admirably solid discussion of her life and her suicide. But even that examination of her history and her death feels somehow lacking—not because the Codex post is weak, but because Evelyn left behind so little to hold on to. In the end, there is not even a gravesite; she was cremated, according to her wishes, and no marker or tombstone exists.

[NOTE: Please visit writer Lauren Anne Rice’s Pubslush page and support her efforts to tell the full—and astonishing—story of (in Lauren’s words) “Evelyn, her family, and her twenty-three years alive.”]

But beyond the mystery of Evelyn McHale’s life and death, there is the equally profound mystery of how a single photograph of a dead woman can feel so technically rich, visually compelling and—it must be said—so downright beautiful so many years after it was made. There’s a reason, after all, why she is often referred to as “the most beautiful suicide”; why Andy Warhol appropriated Wiles’ picture for his Suicide: Fallen Body (1962); why once we look, it’s so hard to look away.

In Wiles’ photo, Evelyn (it doesn’t feel right to refer to her as “Ms. McHale”) looks for all the world as if she’s resting, or napping, rather than lying dead amid shattered glass and twisted steel. Everything about her pose—her gloved hand clutching her necklace; her gently crossed ankles; her right hand with its gracefully curved fingers—suggests that she is momentarily quiet, perhaps thinking of her plans for later in the day, or daydreaming of her beau.

(Here, again, the Codex 99 post provides insight into her final hours, and maybe her final thoughts.)

For its part, LIFE magazine captioned the picture with language that veers strikingly from the poetic to the elemental: “At the bottom of Empire State Building the body of Evelyn McHale reposes calmly in grotesque bier her falling body punched into the top of a car.”

A single paragraph, meanwhile, describing how the scene came about is at-once unsentimental and elegiac:

On May Day, just after leaving her fiancé, 23-year-old Evelyn McHale wrote a note. “He is much better off without me. . . . I wouldn’t make a good wife for anybody,” she wrote. Then she crossed it out. She went to the observation platform of the Empire State Building. Through the mist she gazed at the street, 86 floors below. Then she jumped. In her desperate determination she leaped clear of the setbacks and hit a United Nations limousine parked at the curb. Across the street photography student Robert Wiles heard an explosive crash. Just four minutes after Evelyn McHale’s death Wiles got this picture of death’s violence and its composure.

This is not the place to delve into the deep, troubling universe of suicide, with all of its attendant pain, grief and lingering, unanswerable questions. But for a single moment, we can look one last time at Evelyn McHale, and remember her. Even if none of us ever knew her. Even if we’ll never really know what pushed her off the building. Even if she’s long, long gone, and never coming back.

Read more: ‘The Most Beautiful Suicide’: A Violent Death, an Immortal Photo | LIFE.com http://life.time.com/history/evelyn-mchale-suicide-photo-empire-state-building-1947/#ixzz37ZgLC8xw


Ghost town featured in 2014 Pink Floyd video.

This video (Pink Floyd-Morooned-2014 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P7YMI39sObY ) features various scenes from Pripyat, a city in Ukraine that was abandoned after Chernobyl.

Pripyat is an abandoned city in northern Ukraine, near the border with Belarus. Named for the nearby Pripyat River, Pripyat was founded on 4 February 1970, the ninth nuclear city in the Soviet Union, for the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant. It was officially proclaimed a city in 1979, and had grown to a population of 49,360 before being evacuated a few days after the 26 April 1986 Chernobyl disaster.


Learned a new term today; Pluralistic ignorance.

In social psychology, pluralistic ignorance is a situation in which a majority of group members privately reject a norm, but incorrectly assume that most others accept it, and therefore go along with it.[1] This is also described as “no one believes, but everyone thinks that everyone believes.” In short, pluralistic ignorance is a bias about a social group, held by a social group.[2]
Pluralistic ignorance may be able to help us explain the bystander(witness) effect that people are more likely to intervene (help) in an emergency situation when alone than when other persons are near.[3] If people study how others act in a situation, they may notice that people will decide not to help when they see that others are not getting involved. This can result in no one taking action, even though some people privately think that they should do something. On the other hand, if one person decides to help, others are more likely to follow and give assistance.


Taman Shud Case/Mystery of the Somerton Man

The Taman Shud Case, also known as the Mystery of the Somerton Man, is an unsolved case of an unidentified man found dead at 6:30 a.m., 1 December 1948, on Somerton beach in AdelaideSouth Australia. It is named after a phrase, tamam shud,meaning “ended” or “finished” in Persian, on a scrap of the final page of The Rubaiyat,found in the hidden pocket of the man’s trousers.

Considered “one of Australia’s most profound mysteries” at the time, the case has been the subject of intense speculation over the years regarding the identity of the victim, the events leading up to his death, and the cause of death. Public interest in the case remains significant because of a number of factors: the death occurring at a time of heightened tensions during the Cold War, what appeared to be a secret code on a scrap of paper found in his pocket, the use of an undetectable poison, his lack of identification, and the possibility of unrequited love.



There is a band named 2:54. They sound awesome…

How did I find this? Oh yea, reading a Tateryche review on some website, and blog entry was off to the side that mentioned this band so I looked them up. The band’s name is “2:54”, the song is titled “Creeping.”  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mWbL8uXonQ8

If the music industry was run by music lovers, who view music as art, this band would be much, much more popular.

The Thurlow sisters were born in Ireland but spent much of their childhood in Bristol after moving there at an early age. In 2007 they formed the punk rock band The Vulgarians, and in mid-2010 formed 2:54, named after part of a song by The Melvins(in Colette’s words the “point on ‘History Of Bad Men’ where the bass line turns doomy, and dreamy”).