Good Christ! Before I can turn around to eulogize Edward Teller and Larry Hovis comes the news of the deaths of Johnny Cash and John Ritter. The Man in Black's death strikes us with a sense of relief for his physical suffering, but why the fuck is John Ritter dead at the age of 54?! It's shocking. It's indecent. Fifty-four?! Why?
Not incidentally, I hope every one of the shallow shit-for-brains who denied the genius of Johnny Cash's final masterpiece (the video for "Hurt") at the recent MTV Music Awards will choke on the memory of their votes this morning. What vulgar and profane shit did they select instead? Missy Elliott? What garbage. Her contribution to our culture, relative to Mr. Cash's, is reflected in the difference between a grand symphonic orchestra in the fullness of its sublimity and a turpentine-huffing ghetto urchin with a kazoo stuffed up her ass.
"Oh, no, he DI-unth!"
Oh, yes, I DID.