You Funny Little Man

Man, I can’t believe it. 37.

I just don’t understand it. Mitch Hedberg worked hard at being one of the funniest people on this planet and he was successful. Very successful, as far as I could tell. Definitely one of my beacons of light along the dark path of the last decade. I guess I should consider myself lucky for having seen him perform in Raleigh (thanks to the ticket-getting prowess of the Lint Queen) and even getting to chat with him after the show. What a genuinely sweet, talented individual.

But instead I’m just pissed off with no target for my invective. I guess I should be mad at heroin for continually fucking up the lives of people I adore, but the problem is much more complex than that and I’m left with nothing but frustration. Yes — these are adults who are willfully choosing to mess with that garbage, but why? What is driving them to do so? Goddamn. FUCK!

Life is unfair. Don’t get hung up on what you ain’t got or what ain’t working out for you. Instead, figure out what you do best and what makes you happiest and do it for the rest of your life (a la Rushmore). Goodbye, Mitch. I’m very sorry to see you leave the stage so soon. I’ll never look at turkeys the same way ever again.

The Passing of a Legend

Jef Raskin is perhaps the one person I should thank most for my involvement in the realm of computing. After all, it was my fascination with the Macintosh at UNC-Chapel Hill’s Student Stores during the Summer of 1984 that got me hooked on the keyboard (and mouse). Since those fateful days bothering the store clerks while writing my school essays on the Macs and printing them out on those classic Apple printers, well, not much has changed I guess (‘cept the lack of a floppy drive). A grand time in the computer world, by my recollection.

I am therefore very sorry to note Jef’s passing and simply say “So long and Thanks for all the Interfaces.”

Obligatory Hunter S. Thompson post

I got the first news of Doctor Gonzo’s passing exactly a week ago. It was certainly tragic, exactly as it was designed to be. The end of another high-profile career for the news media to feed upon and for the national conscience to absorb. I’m not exactly sure how far-reaching the impact would be based on the relative obscurity of the author. Hunter S. Thompson was legend amongst most of the folks I know, but I still wouldn’t consider his works widely read. And with the way his career trickled out over the past decade or so, I found it interesting that so many were crushed by the loss. I guess it is hard losing your favorite author, musician, artist, whatever, no matter how well you don’t actually know them. So, like most fringe culture geeks I was pretty bummed out about his passing and spent a lot of time thinking about that old madman journalist that I got to know well over a decade ago.

Someone posted a link to Todd Mormon’s write-up which linked to several good bits on the web about Hunter. I felt quite moved by the people showing their feelings about him, even those whose only real response was “F. U.” These folks got lightly flamed for their posts, but I believe they were entirely valid and would be an opinion essentially espoused by the person being mourned. Oh, the irony of it all. Probably the best piece I read was Kurt Loder’s essay for VH-1. I think he hit the nail on the head with regards to the value of Thompson’s writing style not simply existing in a hallucination-induced vaccuum, but that he was indeed a gifted (some would say “uniquely blessed”) individual with solid writing experience. Of course, Kurt has the benefit of a career in entertainment journalism and the advanced age to have experienced many of the same waves and shifts as HST did.

I would say that my opinion on the matter changed significantly a few days later when it was revealed that he blew his head off while talking to his wife on the telephone. This news made me draw myself up and think “That ain’t right” and this put a tiny chink in my recollections of the talented author. Then, unfortunately, I found out that his son, daughter-in-law and 6-year-old grandson were actually in the house at the time of his suicide. At this point it was difficult for me to think anything good about HST. I couldn’t believe he would be so willing to place this blemish upon his close family members. Arguably, any suicide is incredibly painful for family and friends. But to perform such a violent act within earshot of a 6-year-old? Behavior such as this is beyond the pale, if you asked me.

So shine on you crazy demon. Happy trails you fool. Sorry you had to leave so soon.