On Illness And Immortality

We’re all invincible until we get injured.
We’re all immune until we get sick.
We’re all immortal until we die.

We are terrible about talking about anything to do with illness or death. We hate being reminded of our own frailty and mortality and distinct lack of invincibility. But yet, we all have to deal with it at some point, and many of us already deal with it in silence. As soon as you open up to someone, you discover more often than not that they’re going through something relatable too, or know a close friend or family member that is, and appreciate the chance to talk about it.

I learned through the openness of a friend about his own cancer battle that talking about illness is really helpful for everyone. The same goes for any medical condition. As soon as I bring up miscarriages with friends, it seems that everyone has their own story to tell, just no-one wants to be the one to bring it up, but it’s a huge relief to talk about it, even years after. Bottling anything up inside is never is good. Better to have it out in common conversation where people are comfortable mentioning it or asking questions.

But it is hard. I tell people I’m totally fine talking about my Parkinson’s, which is mostly true, but it’s still not easy to drop into conversation.

“Could you pass the salt? I have Parkinson’s.”
“I like this seat in the movie theatre. Nice and central. Also, I have Parkinson’s.”
“Yes, I’ll take my meal to go, please. I have Parkinson’s.”
“Oh, I love Back to the Future. Speaking of Michael J. Fox, I have Parkinson’s.”
And my favourite:
“Shaky cam in movies is the worst! I get it on all my cell phone videos and it doesn’t cost me millions to produce. I have Parkinson’s.”

See? Not that natural.

But when it does come up naturally, or in one of those very few times that someone has politely inquired about my noticeable tremor, then I can talk about, make a few jokes and answer any follow up questions to the best of my ability. Everyone comes away more relaxed.

Knowledge is power. Feel free to ask me about my condition next time we meet. We’ll all be happier for it.

When You're Gone

Life is a funny thing. For the vast majority of people, we have no concept of it ending. We see people die every day, yet a part of us always manages to convince the rest of our brain that it'll never happen to us.

But it does.

We don't know when, we don't know how. It's not biblical, just a fact.

When I leave this mortal body behind and finally learn what really happen afterwords, I hope I'll be leaving the world a better place. I hope that my actions here will make other lives a little brighter.

God forbid, if it happens tomorrow, I know that I'll miss what I have. I have the most amazing, loving, incredible wife I could ever have dreamed of. I have family that I love and miss dearly every day. I have friends that I hope to grow old with and laugh about our days in college together in fifty years time. I have a job that does make other peoples lives a little brighter, a little happier.

But I don't plan on giving it all up tomorrow, or the day after, or the next month, year or decade.

This isn't a post about death. It's about life. Live it as best you can. Be a positive influence in the stories of as many other people as you can, because when you go, that'll be the only thing that matters.

Make your world a little brighter.

Michael Jackson 1958 - ?

Unless you've been living on the dark side of the moon, without radio or internet contact, you're probably aware that Michael "King of Pop" Jackson died on Thursday, June 25th, 2009.* His death, as a friend of mine pointed out, did what the Iranian government could not- it stopped the internet, breaking Wikipedia due to an influx of updates, and taking down several major websites.

While I was shocked by the announcement, I can't say that I had the reaction that a lot of people are having. Michael is being revered as some kind of "God of Pop" now, not it's King. In death, all his past failures and indiscretions are being cleverly ignored or forgotten in favor of his music, his personality, but most importantly, the "way he was" before things started to go... weird. I really don't have a problem with this, however. I find myself remembering the good times too, like the first time I heard Black or White, and how, even at the young age I was, it brought tears to my eyes for having such a powerful message.

What I can't understand is the fevered obsession that has spread across the world with this news. It is an event that seems to be gaining as much media attention as September 11th. His funeral is being predicted as even bigger than Frank Sinatras.

Yet if death is the end, then, for me, Michael Jackson died somewhere between 1995, when HIStory was released, the last album that had songs in it I liked, and 2000, when things started to really turn weird for the King of Pop. By 2002 he had two sons christened Prince Michael and Prince Michael II, the latter of whom was also referred to as "Blanket". That was when I stopped listening to news about Jacko.

Please don't get me wrong. His death is of course a tragedy. Of course it is right to be mournful. But I feel the same way about Michaels passing as I do about a person killed in a car crash in Cavan. They both had the potential for greatness, an influence on so many peoples lives. They'll never get to do all the things they had planned. But I didn't know either of them. It doesn't affect me personally. Their loss, while sad, means little to my life and how I live it. It is their family and friends that will have to continue without them in their lives. The people who knew and loved them will have to live in a world that is a little emptier now. All these things are cause for sadness and silence.

But it is not cause for what we are seeing now. Millions across the world are mourning Michaels loss as if he was their brother. He is being called the greatest dancer and musician the world has ever known. According to the ticker on Sky News, people seem to think that we have lost one of the worlds absolute greats. Really? Eh... no. Not in my eyes.

And maybe I've just realized what my difficulty with the media attention is. Michaels death is not what is important here. He has gone onto wherever his beliefs will take him. A place where he can find peace. It is his family that must deal with the loss. Both his parents are still alive. He has eight brothers and sisters. Countless cousins, aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, family and friends. And they are who I am sorry for. They cannot grieve the way the parents and family of the car crash victim can. They are going to be surrounded by rabid fans and media for weeks to come. Leave his family to morn their loss. Leave them in peace.

What scares me most about this event is how fast the world knew. With internet, text messaging, twittering and a whole range of world-wide social networking systems, I found out about it while out at a meal, away from radios, televisions and computers. Worse still, according to his Wikipedia page, "Jackson was declared dead at 2:26 pm local time (21:26 UTC)" which is 22:26 Irish time. I was informed of his death at around 11pm, a mere 30 minutes later.

Will my death be recorded that fast? If it means that my family and friends can morn me in peace, then I hope not.

*- If that is the case, then how are you reading this now? Oh, and, sorry to break the bad news.

1941-2007?

When comic stores opened across America on Wednesday, the 7th of March, readers were unaware of the shocking moment they were about to bare witness too. Too often in comics, due to their nature, fanbase and the necessity to print weeks in advance to ensure delivery, secrets get out. Rarely are readers thrown an unexpected twist.

But this Wednesday was to be different. While all the focus was on Spider-Man Back In Black, or the brand new line-up for the Fantastic Four, no-one was watching Captain America. Why would they? At the end of Civil War he was remanded into custody on his own decision. His mask was in the hands of Punisher, and Steve Rogers, the man best know as the symbol of Truth, Justice and the American Way in Marvel comics, was under lock and key.

No-one saw this coming. There were no rumours. There were no leaks. There was just shock. In Issue 25 of the current run of Captain America, Steve Rogers received four gunshots to the torso that ultimately proved fatal.
The reaction has been incredible. CNN have done a piece on it, interviewing Marvel Editor-In-Chief Joe Quesada, among others. Captain America co-creator Joe Simon, aged 93 years, has stated that he is shocked, and feels that Steve is needed more now than ever before.

Before reading the issue in question, I had my theories. It could have been ex-head of SHIELD, the now rogue Nick Fury and an LMD (Life Model Decoy). It could be a clone, a hologram, a trick to put Steve under-ground. And it still might be. When I read the issue and confirmed it for myself, I texted a few people I thought might have interesting opinions on the issue. Unanimously, the verdict from all (and I texted quite a few people) was, "meh. He'll be back within six months". And while I might argue the limited time-span, I can't argue the inevitability. That's why there's a question mark in this posts title!

Look at Colossus. Awesome death that held incredible meaning. Left for five years, and brought back. Captain Americas' boy sidekick, Bucky. Dead, dead, dead, until he returned as the Winter Soldier. Superman. Okay, we all knew that one was temporary. Not a chance they were going to off the Big Blue Boyscout. And don't get me started on Jean Grey!! Or any number of the X-Men. Wolverine and Cyclops are as bad. And Magneto?!? I remember someone once joking that his secondary mutation was an uncanny ability to die, but find the loophole to bring him back. Copies, fakes and "I got better" have all been used.

So why write about it? Why talk about something that even I have to agree will be thought of as "Hey, remember that time they actually tried to kill Captain America? Fun times, fun times..." Well, it's all in the telling.

Ed Brubaker has written a powerful tale of honour and glory, mixed through the mud of blood and sorrow. Discovery and loss, love and pain. He tells it with passion and grace. Even when I knew what was coming, turning the page and seeing it was still a shock. It was, pardon the expression, well executed. Steve's reaction was pure Steve. And I could feel the power of the moment coming off the page, especially as he began to slip away. Remember, I'm a bit of a fan of Captain America, so seeing this really hit me.

Of course, it's not all Eds work. The art of Steve Epting is fantastic. I haven't heard his name much before, but he really does this story justice. From the opening black'n'white to the closing, final image, he shows what he's made of.

So that's it. He's gone. And I have to admit, the Marvel Universe suddenly got just a little darker, a little scarier than it was yesterday. But I think Alan Moore said it best in the pages of Top Ten. I have to paraphrase, as the original text referred to a female, but here goes:

Eulogy for a Hero.

As we gather to remember the hero so nobly giving of his life so that others might live, merciful Lord, accept this, our brother, into thy bosom until such time as, in thy infinite wisdom, he may be cloned, reincarnated, or otherwise revived.
This we ask, in thy name.
Amen.

Steve Rogers 1941-2007

Broken Promises

Before I start, I just want to say that I hadn't put up a post about Steve Irwin before now partly because of what I said about the direction I wanted to take my blog in and partly because it still feels like a dream to me. A horrible, twisted dream. I just can't believe it. He just kinda seemed invincible. Amuse or annoy, irritate or fasinate, the man always entertained. More importantly for me, he was a great father and loving husband. My thoughts go to his family, especially his son that will never get to know him.

This is all I have to say. Everything has been said a thousand times already across the world.

We'll miss ya mate.

R.I.P. Tony Jay

Anyone that's played a few computer games or watched Disney cartoons should know his voice. Tony Jay was a great voice actor, and I got to know him mainly through his computer game work. He was the voice for Magneto in X-Men: Legends, The Elder God in the Legacy of Kain series and the narrator for World of Warcraft, to name but a few. His cartoon work includes voicing Shere Khan in the Jungle Book spin-off Tale Spin, Galactus on Fantastic Four, Sul-Van, Jor-Els father-in-law on Superman: The Animated Series, Chairface Chippendale in The Tick and Dr. Lipshitz in Rugrats. He made appearances in Star Trek: The Next Generation, Twin Peaks and Matlock.

Even if you didn't recognise the name, you probably recognise the voice.

He passed away on August 13 at the age of 73, after failing to recover from micro surgery for a non-cancerous tumor in his lungs. May he rest in peace.