I've seen a lot of theories here for the no-brainers who are now
loudly announcing how unaffected they are by L'affaire Cobain,
and I must say, a lot of them are VERY GOOD explanations, too.

I liked especially the parts about a junior-high health class
conception of suicide, and the stuff about the violent reaction
to the harsh lesson that all those things we've been taught will
guarantee happiness sometimes don't.

Apart from that, though, I'd really like to look at the mindset behind
tha accusations that the people who are most upset over the
incident were taking things
far too seriously. It's the irony of ironies that the opposite is
true. Over and over again, the cheers for KC's death seem to be from
people that have the most trouble separating Rock Mythology
from Real Life (tm). I don't know if it's a synapse that doesn't
click until you reach a certain age or what, but all the cheering
seems to include notes about how Nirvana/Grunge really "sucked"
anyway, or Kurt was sucking "corporate cock" or that he kicked
the bucket to ensure legendary status for himself.

In other words - the thoughts that could only come from people
that are waaaaay too wacky to separate a History of Rock Legends
comic book from Real Life.  These are the people who don't realize
"Beavis & Butt-head" is about them.

These are the people who seriously discuss weighing the pros and
cons of, for example, Jimi Hendrix's legendary status and his
early death.  "Death as a career move", a long-standing industry JOKE,
has become very real and lost all its punch, I'm afraid.

The idea that a Bob Dylan or Mick Jagger would, for example, defy these
jokesters' wish to be massively entertained, and that these stars
would dare stick around well past the time they've supposedly worn
out their welcome, irritates these jokesters to no end, for some reason.

I'll leave to the sociologists the task of figuring out
where the stunted emotional growth comes from. It's not interesting.

The people most upset over this tragedy
have figured out the difference between the value of human life
and the value of their personal entertainments.  It's not an
adolescent schoolgirl fantasy to figure out there's a human being behind
the grungy jeans, and think about *him*.  It is, however, the
rich fantasy life of a Nintendo-playing eight-year-old to think
the pile of now-lifeless mangled flesh was entirely explained by, and
can be appraised by, the worth of his art.

Oh, yeah - the thread title. All you Cobain-bashers have tiny dicks.

++Sylvia