Crikey!

Yet again, news unrelated to art...

Steve Irwin dies due to stingray injury.

You know, as terrible as it is to say it, you knew that Steve was going to die because something in the animal kingdom. Call me crazy, but I don't see it as a fault. Maybe that's because I have had a certain fondness for the wacky Austrailians antics with crocodiles and various other deadly creatures. Some people think he was insane doing that, but there's something terribly admirable about a man who has an insatiable curiosity and desire to learn more - and then, in turn, share that with the world.
Would it be so strange to admire a man who dies doing what he loves best? Perhaps it's some sort of weird romanticized admiration, made out to be more than what it actually is. There's nothing wrong with getting old and dying; in fact, that's probably the way I'd like to be shuffled out... nevermind the fact that it's very difficult to find ways to die while making two-dimensional art. But I digress.
Steve Irwin had passion for what he did and it oozed out of every pore of his body. Most people with that sort of passion are deemed as crazy, radical (or heretical), and eccentric. Regardless of one's feelings about it, I'm sure we all have a bite of appreciation for that sort of passion and wish that we would realize what our own passions are.

Prayers go out to the Irwins... may the Lord comfort their hearts in this time.

Bits from the thickets of Facebook: Wow. There are 265 groups (and likely more to come) dedicated to Steve Irwin.