Monday, August 11, 2014

The Death of a Legend

So now Robin Williams is dead. He was 63. Facebook overflows with sympathy. Everyone loved the crazy son of a bitch, and for good reason. When I was growing up, he was one of the biggest stars in Hollywood and he consistently put out some top notch work. His filmography reads like a study in keeping fresh. Comedy, drama, psych thriller, he was unstoppable. Delivered some of the best goddamn lines of a generation.

The guy understood how to leave a legacy, I'll give him that. None of this live hard die young crap. He lived hard and died before he got too old. Maybe he'd had enough. Not for me to say. All I know is that any time I see his movies now, they'll have a little bit of a different resonance.

Shit, right now, people are rewatching his classics. I know this, because it's posted all over the goddamn Internet. And you know what they're doing? Crying at the same time that they laugh at all the funniest parts. Because they can't ever see that brand of genius again. They won't be able to be surprised by the weird and brilliant acting that he became known for.

His movies will be shown to children and grandchildren. He will be lauded as a legend. Hell, he already is. But we don't get any more. It's done. It's over.

I don't know. It's late and I can't go on too much longer. And besides, this isn't anything. This is just a shittily written, barely edited blog article. I can't write this kind of stuff, not well anyway. But I had to write something. This is the same thing that millions of people are doing in their own way right now, and for once, I feel the need to join them. So, I raise a figurative final toast to one of the most influential entertainers of my childhood.

Robin Williams has checked out for good and left us all standing on our desks.

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