I guess that's not quite true. I do consider myself literate and I am a Magister de Artibus. But in times of great emotion, I lose them. I have only cried over "celebrities" or people that I do not know personally three times.
The first was Pope John Paul II. It was like I had lost my grandfather all over again. The second was when Gary Gygax died. Now admittedly, I had corresponded with Gary for about 12 years before he died, but I never met him in the flesh. And now, Robin.
I really don't have the words. He always seemed so full of energy but there was always a sadness behind those eyes. The Fisher King will remain my favorite movie of his. Well, I guess I'll let Whitman speak for me, although everyone else is today as well. It is appropriate and it is how I feel.
Rest in peace, Robin.
O Captain! My Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
- But O heart! heart! heart!
- O the bleeding drops of red,
- Where on the deck my Captain lies,
- Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! My Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;
For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
- Here captain! dear father!
- This arm beneath your head;
- It is some dream that on the deck,
- You've fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;
- Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
- But I, with mournful tread,
- Walk the deck my captain lies,
- Fallen cold and dead.
