Carlin.

So George Carlin has died.  As much as I loved the man's work, as much as it shaped my sense of humor and general worldview, I can't honestly be sad about it.  Not sad for him, at any rate; sad for us, sure.

Watching his act in recent years, he seemed perfectly aware of his mortality and he seemed perfectly fine with being on his way out -- that he was taking a strange, dark glee in watching us fuck up our society and our environment more and more and knowing that he wasn't going to have to be around to see the worst of it.  It was misanthropy, but also a weirdly fond, loving misanthropy.  

I can't quite explain it.  You should just watch some of his material and see what I mean.  But wherever he is now, I can't imagine he's sad to be gone -- I think he's going to be happy to just sit back and laugh at us.  And I can't blame him for that.

Thank you, Mr. Carlin, for all the times you've made me laugh, and for teaching me that hating humanity and loving it in equal measure was possible.