Annie, Are You Okay?

It's no shocker to web-heads who read my stuff that I've been a long-term fan of Achewood. I have a hardcover copy of "The Great Outdoor Fight" sitting on my dresser as I write this. Chris Onstad's web comic is one part graphic novel and two parts psychedelic insanity. I appreciate it for its commitment to character, clever dialog and its undeniably unique art style. Sometimes Achewood transcends its ability to elicit the occasional chuckle, placing its index and middle finger squarely on the pulse of modern pop culture and giving it the kick in the pants it needs. Today isn't one of those days. Rather than mocking the nature of celebrity fandom or throwing dirt on the grave of a much-maligned musician, Onstad uses his digital soapbox to draw reverence and insight toward the fans themselves, giving voice to their concerns through the guise of character.

In addition to his (semi) daily comic strip, Onstad provides his readers with a bevy of additional material for them to injest, including a bunch of character blogs "written" by the lovable animals of Achewood themselves. Yesterday was a rough day for many of us. We lost two major celebrities, bringing the total to three this week, and while their relevance had lessened slightly with age the shock of each demise was startling enough to provide the public with a wake-up call. Human life is something to be treasured, and it doesn't matter how twisted you turn out, whether you began life as a child singing prodigy and morphed into a cake-faced sexual deviant, a running joke and a public pariah. A death is a sad thing, and a small morsel of respect for those passing is a necessity, if not for yourself then for your fellow man. We live in a society, and in some ways we're just as responsible for Michael's condition as he is. The only thing we couldn't take credit for was his incredible talent. It flowed through him like magic and enertained audiences who couldn't even understand his lyrics. There's nothing quite like lightning in a bottle, and while the storms that followed Michael would be his downfall, the magic of that first spark will never be forgotten.

Chris Onstad echoes this sentiment through the eyes of his character Ray in Achewood. Today's "emergency" blog post gives voice to the silence affecting fans worldwide. Should we treasure Michael for who he was or lambast him for what he became? Could any of us have seen this coming, and who's really to blame? The hard questions make it easy to feel stunned to the point of silence. Mitchell Lerner, one of my dear friends and comedy colleagues, and I shared a late-night conversation about Michael that was completely absent of our traditionally offensive humor. Instead we reflected on his character as a man, his talent and his descent into madness. If that's not a sign that something crazy has happened, I don't know what is.

For more thoughts about Michael and some pretty psychotic Fox News style argumentation, I suggest you check out Paul Baumbusch's Facebook page. He and I got into a pretty bad wall-post flame war over the subject. As an objectivist, he considers Michael's unwillingness to play classical music a great slight to society, and therefore a reason why we should feel nothing about his death. Feel free to send him some "love" on my behalf.