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With a heavy heart, I felt it important to let everyone here know that [letsbuildafort] passed away over this past weekend. I'll spare details as they're not mine to share, but if you knew the guy you'll understand the decision to leave on his own terms.
And in his own words, true Halfbakers never
die. They just post less often.
Epitaph in Pinball
Epitaph_20In_20Pinball
Go ahead. Stick a coin in. You know you want to! [DrBob, Nov 27 2025]
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Thank you. And thanks, eternally, to Letsbuildafort, for all the awesome memories and ideas. I love all my fellow Halfbakers, but he was one of my favorites. Does anyone know if he had a favorite drink? |
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I only know most of you by monikers. His was one of the first I read. |
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Sorry to learn of the loss of another very inventive person. Condolences to his family and friends. |
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[21_Quest] - It’s been a year or two (or thirteen), but I seem to recall Guinness being involved in life changing events more than once. |
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I knew he had to be a man of taste. Guinness is a favorite of mine. I'll raise one in his memory. Thanks. |
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Some time in one of these threads the user name in question will come to post a comment about rumors of his death. |
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Ah yes, [Voice], we can hope. Probably happen in the creepy thawed Disney-disembodied-head way. |
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What would [Max] and [8th] have to say about [LetsBAF}? |
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//What would [Max] and [8th] have to say about [LetsBAF}?// |
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Every once in a while somebody here says something very moving. That would be one. |
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It’s not well-known, but the The Tinkerer’s Afterlounge is where clever halfbakers meet their eternity. |
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The great hall is stacked high with sketches, diagrams, and cocktail-napkin blueprints. The benches groan under the weight of the prototypes: anti-gravity spoons that never quite balance, perpetual-motion toasters that hum ominously, and refrigerators powered by waste heat. The warriors here are not clad in armor but in luxurious bathrobes. They clutch soldering irons and fountain pens, defending their harebrained contraptions in lively debate. |
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Every afterlife needs its reward, and here it comes in the form of eternal brainstorming sessions. The air buzzes with half-finished pitches, lovingly overengineered solutions to problems that did not exist until someone decided they might. A round table discussion might move from solar-powered ice cream cones to pigeon-operated Wi-Fi routers without breaking stride. The mood is neither mocking nor solemn but buoyant. The only remaining sin is to declare something finished, that being punished by the ceremonial custard dip. |
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Of course, it is not all harmony. As in any hall of heroes, the occasional flame war flares up. Ghostly moderators hover overhead, quelling disputes by reminding the participants that cleverness counts more than correctness. The place thrives on this tension: each idea is both celebrated and gently skewered (and sometimes vigorously), preserved in history as “worth thinking about, and let’s give it a try!” In this hall, glory is measured not in bloodshed or conquest but in the sheer audacity. There is a warehouse of parts that never ends, where one can find not only all parts that have ever been made, but also all parts that may one day be made and the ones that can’t possibly be made. Simply petition the librarian for any diagram, proposal or tome from any point in time. |
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And so the days pass, without end, in this Valhalla. A place where one never has to prove an invention works, only that it provokes a smile, a raised eyebrow, or a fresh tangent. A final bakery for the whimsical engineer, the dreamer who doodles in the margins, and the philosopher who wonders what might happen if you strapped wings to the dishwasher. No feast could be more satisfying than that endless banquet of ideas, never fully cooked, always half done. And all the richer for it. |
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^ <loud 'Huzzah', hands clapping, honks that New Year's party favour thingy> |
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<Puts coin in machine, pulls back plunger & waits for first ball to drop>
Those lights sure do look shiny! |
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