This is the difference between me and a dead optimist who is as vibrant as I am leaden: he keeps making the best of it and he's dead. I am calculating a pitch based on the cost of his saliva cancer as a rational argument for a federal euthanasia standard; if you're wondering if I am that ruthless, yes. What saddens me is the fact that Siskel & Ebert taught me how much I like to argue. I paid attention to the conversation as much as to the movie under discussion. What does Chaz do with Roger's online accounts, or the Chicago Sun-Times with theirs, for that matter?
I could not bring myself to take his twitter account off my following list, and now I'll never know whether it went like this:
EBERT: "Dan I have a dysfunctional groupie for you; look at her comment in response to my post on loneliness..."
Or like this:
SCHNEIDER: He won't mind if I peel off this spastic figure for my Cosmoetica lists. (and a week later). "Look at what I get for trying to be nice. She told me to fuck myself because I don't have a hard on for Marcel Proust."
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