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Somebody *cough*Dustin*cough* left the phone off the hook last night, any my cell still doesn't really work in this apartment, so I didn't get to make any precinct calls. The Obama campaign only got back to me late last night anyway, and at this rate I won't even have time to make one round of calls on my precinct. Well, I signed up a full two weeks ago, so I can't feel too bad about that, and I'll do what I can.
Heath Ledger's death has been just... lingering in my mind. Obits on my reader, comments at work, posts on my flist. It's not going away, and on the flist at least it's so much... sadder and more sincere than celebrity-rubbernecking usually is.
I think (and I keep feeling the urge to say "we" here, even though I obviously can speak only for myself) that, at least in slashy corners of fandom, our reaction has a lot to do with Brokeback. I mean, as a fan, there are celebrities and celebrities, you know? There are celebrities and my celebrities. The ones who's characters you've read fic about, or written fic about, or put on headers and wallpapers, or dressed up as, or bought posters of, or any of those fannish ways we attach and appropriate. I think for a lot of us in slash, Brokeback Mountain took Heath Ledger out of "Hollywood celebrities" and made him one of ours.
I've only been fannish a few years. I've seen a lot of celebrities die, but never one of mine. I think that explains why this feels a lot less like another celebrity death, and a lot more like the way it felt to Carl Sagan or Isaac Asimov. They were mine too.
Naturally, Fred Phelps' people are picketing his funeral. I've expended so much outrage on Fred Phelps over the course of my life that I think I just don't have any left. I hope Heath's friends and family are shielded from their ugliness as much as possible.
Heath Ledger's death has been just... lingering in my mind. Obits on my reader, comments at work, posts on my flist. It's not going away, and on the flist at least it's so much... sadder and more sincere than celebrity-rubbernecking usually is.
I think (and I keep feeling the urge to say "we" here, even though I obviously can speak only for myself) that, at least in slashy corners of fandom, our reaction has a lot to do with Brokeback. I mean, as a fan, there are celebrities and celebrities, you know? There are celebrities and my celebrities. The ones who's characters you've read fic about, or written fic about, or put on headers and wallpapers, or dressed up as, or bought posters of, or any of those fannish ways we attach and appropriate. I think for a lot of us in slash, Brokeback Mountain took Heath Ledger out of "Hollywood celebrities" and made him one of ours.
I've only been fannish a few years. I've seen a lot of celebrities die, but never one of mine. I think that explains why this feels a lot less like another celebrity death, and a lot more like the way it felt to Carl Sagan or Isaac Asimov. They were mine too.
Naturally, Fred Phelps' people are picketing his funeral. I've expended so much outrage on Fred Phelps over the course of my life that I think I just don't have any left. I hope Heath's friends and family are shielded from their ugliness as much as possible.
