A menagerie of otherworldly sprites explodes from the limp carcass of a whale. Illustrated by Camilo Bejarano, prints are now available in 13” x 19”, 18” x 24”, 24” x 36” flavors.

PH7labs [Artist’s Site] : LCSV4

Last week, while the rest of the staff suffered under the harsh, pungent glare of The Gauger’s awakening, I was continuing my annual tour of New England, a beautiful land from which I can flee in less than a day’s time when, invariably, the sun and other humans wear my sanity down to a raw nub. This year I was in the lilliputian state of Vermont, which plays host to rolling hills, rolling hills with cows, and W.A.S.P.s, who, if they roll, did so out of sight.

While traipsing though the cow-laden countryside, we came into the town of Barre which can claim one of the Northeast’s more elaborate cemeteries. Here immigrant stonemasons from Italy and Spain settled, working their magic upon the granite from the surrounding hills. It was here, after having soaked in the majesty of a solid granite stock car and having been admonished for forgetting the face of Jesus by a couple of verbose pyramids, that I noticed the first stony visage, bearing that most glorious of facial adornments.

So it began. Our excitement at having espied our first moustache barely contained, we stood, scanning the horizon. She noticed one and immediately set off for it. In this manner it continued, we facial hair connoisseurs, gazing determinedly into the distance before one or the other gesturing at a specific point, letting loose an exuberant cry of “MOUSTACHE!”, before gleefully bounding off, past the massive stone phalli rising majestically into the air, to capture its image.

Not the most appropriate behavior for such a place, perhaps, but we did not care, for with nothing but the stoic faces of long dead gentleman to censure us, and our jubilant cries swallowed up by the drone of the caretakers’s lawnmowers, I have no doubt that we did little to disrupt that place, leaving it no less reserved than when we came upon it.

The Moustaches of Hope Cemetery [Flickr]

Professor NifNak “has harnessed the forces of SCIENCE and ART to create the world’s first completely realistic prosthetic mustachio!” These moustaches are made from 100% Merino Wool, and fasten to the wearer’s nasal septum with magnetic clips. They come in an array of styles from that old mainstay, “The Handlebar”, to the impressively pendulous “Zeppelin” which almost requires a top hat.

Professor NifNaks Patented Moustachios [NifNaks] : Thanks, Aaron!

“This video, while absolutely terrifying from a psychological perspective, is essential for your forthcoming Moustache Monday.”

As this post illustrates, we are in complete agreement with Mr. Gilmore, however, it was only upon careful scrutiny of this clip from Spanish television show Esta noche… Fiesta, that I was struck with an epiphany. Watching those moustachioed dancers — male and female alike, moustachioed — writhe in unison, clad in bold yellow and black attire I realized that I was witnessing a message sent from the past, a portent of things to come. In a moment I understood that I was watching not just a television clip but one of the glorious dance numbers from Ectoplasmosis!: The Musical.

Esta noche… Fiesta [YouTube] : otomano : Thanks, Asa!

All I know is that its highly unlikely that a normal (i.e., not related to Lady Deathstrike) human being could, over time, scratch a hole into their brain cavity using their fingernails (which, again, even over time, would be worn down to nubs in the face of bone) and cause inexplicably green brain matter to leak out. Especially since in order to leak out, it would have to be either melting from high fever, or under pressure due to internal swelling, and either way she’d likely be unconscious, if not dead. Again, the wound probably just got badly infected (with staph or similar) and pustulent, which is a perfectly good reason to send someone to the hospital, especially if they have HIV. Its even possible that between the infection, the external damage, and the HIV, the virus managed to make it to her brain, or trigger a heavy fever, causing the apparent brain damage.

M was probably just misunderstanding or misremembering the incident, which is understandable given the stress she was probably under at the time. Unless I see a medical chart with notes saying “perforation of the skull”, or perhaps a particularly impressive episode of Mythbusters, I’m not buying it.

Comment by Joe Shadows — June 25, 2008 @ 8:17 pm

While Mr. Shadows and I may have our differences — for example: he thinks me a gullible fool and I am fairly certain that he is a Communist — we can both agree that the only way to settle this is to get the Mythbusters on this conundrum post-haste. Hopefully they can construct an itch scratching machine, comprised of a hand made from ballistics jelly and bone connecting to a large motor, designed for the specific purpose of creating a perforation in a severed pig’s head.

When my good friend Angel and her husband Rob decided to dress as Ritchie and Margot Tenenbaum for Halloween, it was necessary for Rob to grow a luxurious beard to truly fit the part. After the spooky celebrations had ended it was time to shave the beard. Naturally, Rob experimented with moustaches. Hit the jump to see his transformation from doleful, bearded Tenenbaum to mustachio’d man of many faces.

Continue Reading…

The first 2 parts of the “lost” film Italian Spiderman has been up for a week or two now and it looks to be just as ridiculous — and awesome — as the trailer had indicated. Give me Franco Franchetti (R.I.P) with his porn-star moustache and pump-action shotgun over Toby McGuire any day.

Italian Spiderman Movie - Episode 1 and Episode 2 [YouTube]

Rugged. Self-assured. Adult. These are the words that describe the man who wears a moustache. Yeees, it says to the world, “I’m a man of action!” Ah, but action tempered with maturity, like a fireman or somebody’s dad.

I realize that Brownlee had posted the excellent musical number from this episode of the sorely missed The Tick previously, however, the entire episode deserves to be viewed in all its glory. So sit back and enjoy a tale of facial hair, love and obsession. A cautionary tale of what happens when science loses its way, abandons morality and, in doing do, wreaks untold havoc. Also, bees!

That Mustache Feeling [YouTube] : Thanks, Professor Robot!

The sheet music for the verbosely titled “We Men Must Grow a Mustache: That’s One Thing the Girls Can’t Do!” which, one must assume, is a call to arms to curb the influx of faux follicular facial adornment that some females are fond of, a call that only the tinny twang of a ukulele can properly convey.

The denizens at Wikipedia seem to feel that it is representative of humor aimed at the general acceptance of homosexuality during the 1920s. Certainly the illustration plainly shows a homosexual, who are known for both their razor-sharp sideburns and for having the ability to bend their spines at painful and awkward right angles, a trait that scientists believe was developed so that they could reach the leaves on the uppermost branches of trees. Truly astounding creatures.

Sheet music for the song “We Men Must Grow A Mustache.” [Wikipedia] : Thanks, Anders!

Above are two gentleman, Daniel Navarro and Jose Luis Sanchez, arrested in connection with the torture of cows, which led to the recall of one hundred forty three million pounds of beef, the largest in U.S. history. I’ll admit, when I heard of cows being tortured I expected to see amateur photographs of hooded bovines attached to car batteries with electrodes and wire. However, there are pictures of cows pausing “while eating at a farm in Sunnyside, Washington” perhaps to chew or perhaps to contemplate the mysteries of life and the impact of government corruption and impotent federal guidelines upon the lives of its people.

Alas, I can’t help but feel that the two moustachioed suspects above may only be pawns in a larger, delicately marbled and tender game. My only regret is that Ectomo’s font, unlike The Consumerist’s, does not allow me to properly convey the apoplectic outrage, and adrenaline fueled frothing at the mouth of someone who has just kicked a minimum wage Circuit City employee in the teeth for not honoring an expired coupon. Perhaps a redesign will allow me to properly bring injustices such as this to you, my dear readers, in the future.

U.S. sees largest meat recall in history [Yahoo! News] : The Consumerist : Thanks, John!

Higher education is not an area that we at Ectomo spend much time dwelling on with, perhaps, the exception of Brownlee whose Ivy League education requires a certain amount of sneering condescension every month. I, as previously mentioned, attended art school, which is a bit like paying an absurd amount of money to attend four years of kindergarten, albeit with more drug use and more opportunities for sexual encounters featuring multiple participants. On the other hand Eliza, when questioned about her education, responded with “the streets” which I take to mean that she was part of a Dickensian pack of pickpocketing urchins or that she attended a school run by hobos out of refrigerator cartons. Qais’s Bedouin lifestyle, of course, did not afford him the luxury of college. However, those years spent traipsing about the desert did imbue him with various, real world abilities such as hunting rabbits with dogs and navigating by the stars. He can also tell you where the nearest well is in relation to your current whereabouts.

As such, we are not apt to recommend a particular college or university, nor should our readers turn to us for such advice. That said, if one were inclined to pick a school based on its support of the Follicular Arts one could do a lot worse than the University of Chicago which, on February 27th, is resurrecting its Great Mustache Race after an apparent sixty-eight year hiatus. It is an auspicious occasion, marred only slightly, by the pedestrian spelling of “moustache”. Such pedantic trifles must be put aside, however. The school must be applauded for contributing to, hopefully, a resurgence in facial hair education as well as being progressive enough to allow women to participate. For too long have women been denied the ability to partake in the sport of hirsute facial appendages. We await the outcome of this contest with great anticipation and look forward to it spreading to other schools.

The Great Mustache Race Is Back! [Flickr] : uploaded by dpaymas : Thanks, David!

At the beginning of this interview Nick Cave, being interrogated by a seemingly clueless young woman about his new musical endeavor Grinderman, pithily remarks that “a man without a moustache is rather like a woman with one”, or so sayeth the sardonic songster whose wife apparently “made” him grow one, in what seems to be an attempt to make him look more like a crazed, back woods rapist. The rest of the clip is, well, a waste really unless you wish to hear the interviewer comment that she loves their new album because, “it’s hard but it’s also soft at the same time.” Insightful!

The DL - Grinderman Interview [YouTube]

If you happen to be the type of person who wishes to feel the bristly caress of a moustachioed kiss without the other, bothersome man parts that usually accompany it, then Canada — Toronto, Ontario specifically it seems — may be paradise for you. The frigid climes provide a perfect breeding ground, producing a cornucopia of Molson™-fortified, Canadian nymphs displaying an array of tasteful and feminine moustaches. Truly, one of Nature’s great wonders.

Trans-Canada Coffee Adventure, Part 3: Ontario and Quebec [CoffeeGeek] : Thanks, Chaz!

Instructables has a step-by-step to crochet your very own Cthulhu! A few people tipped us on this one, but Bibi was first.

Bela sends us some fantastic artwork from the talented Sayaka; comprised of an Ectomo favorite, namely: lithe, Japanese nymphets. Also, tentacles.

Asa Gilmore calls out attention to a list of abandoned wonders in Russia, saying “Scroll to the end of the article. If that strange contraption doesn’t scream ‘Steampunk’ to you, I shall eat my hat and say ‘balderdash.’”

Benton Barnett submitted this badass gas mask t-shirt which will now have to be added to my wardrobe. They can be purchase here.

Dr. Hypercube warns us, via ectotweet, to beware the cephalopod loo.

Ninjas and moustaches are BFFs! Thanks, Felix.

Illustration: Uncle Dapper by missmonster : Thanks, Jason!

Strange coincidences and eerie alignments this Tuesday morning. Steve Scott is a London based animation director and illustrator who also, apparently, has some sort of telepathic ability that has allowed him to lick the collective brain of Ectomo. This piece, entitled The Society of Victorian Mutants is as close as I believe I’ve seen to summing up the fetishes of Ectoplasmosis’s hive-mind in their entirety.

We don’t think it goes to far to say that Ectomo and Steve -if we may be so bold- should, and shall, be Best Friends Forever and we can hang out and do each other’s make-up and talk about tentacles and Cthulhu. We are sure of this, surer than anything in our entire, short lives. Make haste and hit up his site for an impressive collection of moustaches, Victorian fashion, robots, and pin-ups. Also, could you to pass him this note: “Do you like Ectomo? Circle one: Yes No”

Steve Scott [Artist’s Site] : Thanks, Bira!