That’s so sad… fuck cancer.
Bernard was in other Ken Loach films, as well as Emmerdale, All Creatures Great and Small, and Last of the Summer Wine.
A key figure in the normalisation of the far right in Austria, in case anyone was wondering.
I knew I hated that sugary shit for a reason. He sounds like a prick too.
And here I thought it was just because the stuff tastes like if diabetes, heart fibrillations, and a panic attack were distilled into liquid form.
Aww, I loved this guy.
RIP Ms. Baby Wipes…
More of my childhood gone.
I hear this a lot, often in the context of remakes of films and such, and often said in anger about changes to something remembered with love. The thing is, every film made by Bass is still out there to be enjoyed, just as the animated Little Mermaid is there for people who find the idea of Halle Bailey too much too much to cope with.
Why does this kind of event affect so many people this way?
When you see enough of someone’s work, it feels like you have gotten to know them. And even if you haven’t heard from a friend in a long while, their death still can mean something because of that.
Because he’s the guy who brought joy to my childhood our daughter’s childhood, and eventually, hopefully, our grandchild’s childhood.
So I phrased it wrong, sad to see a guy go that brought such happiness to a lot of people.
Sheesh.
Are those two things the same? Like, at all?
Opening:
Mike Davis, author and activist, radical hero and family man, died October 25 after a long struggle with esophageal cancer; he was 76. He’s best known for his 1990 book about Los Angeles, City of Quartz. Marshall Berman, reviewing it for The Nation, said it combined “the radical citizen who wants to grasp the totality of his city’s life, and the urban guerrilla aching to see the whole damned thing blow.”
And the whole thing did blow, two years after the book was published. When the Rodney King riots broke out in LA in 1992, frightened white people rushed home, locked the doors, and turned on the TV news. Mike, however, was driving in the opposite direction, with his old friend Ron Schneck at his side. They parked, got out, and started talking with the people in the streets about what was going on. Then he went home and wrote about it.