I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence
And so the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're goin' through

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

O Captain! my Captain!

When I came back from vacation I wanted to do another, different post, but in the boarding line at ORD I saw the fell news on the screen.

Fuck depression.

For you, my Captain! I shall miss all the future joys you would have brought. All we have left are the memories of happiness, the things that hid the darkness away.

You were not my dancing monkey. You were a muse wearing a clown suit. You were an inspiration that life was about something more than teary tedium. That life could be a celebration meant to be taken at full throttle.

Most of you know that to master dialog I've studied comedians who are masters at the art. Mr. Williams wasn't the first comedian I learned lines from, but he was the first one I realized that comedy was structured. He was the first I analyzed to see how he was making his jokes. And what a master's course that was, like trying to find the structure of water droplets coming out of a fire hose.

I'll miss his take on events of the future. I'll miss his dedication to the craft. I'll miss all the surprise appearances. Rest well, Robin Williams.

Good night, sweet prince. May hosts of angels sing you to sleep.

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