Robin Williams is dead.
Peter Pan ran out of happy thoughts. There, it's said. Like any successful entertainer would want, I'd expect, he touched a lot of people with his work. It's OK, people, everyone will get a turn with the doll to show us where the bad man touched you.
HA! I'd like to think he'd have appreciated that. I've had the benefit of getting to see the full span of his career. I'd like to have seen him go longer, but I'm glad he didn't OD years earlier. I'm sorry he fell to depression sufficient drive him to suicide. With any luck, the story will end there and we won't find out he was murdered by a loved one like Phil Hartman, we won't have an unsolved homicide like George Reeves, or learn it was an autoerotic asphyxiation like David Carradine (which I totally knew was how Carradine must've died from the instant I heard of his "suicide"). Lots of comedians make claims to being driven by darker emotions. It's sad to see that pain consume them, especially when they've brought so much joy to their fans.
Well, that's not really telling anything special.
Really, I just wanted to note the date and the passing.
Mr. Williams stood out with his comedic creativity and acting talent. He was a rare brightness in a field where comics and actors are easily replaceable. Certainly, there's no telling when we may see someone approximating his unique spark again.
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