Kurt Vonnegut has died. So it goes.

To lose a peer is a frightening experience. The knowledge that a contemporary, someone of your own age, your own generation, has died, gives you little choice but to consider your own mortality. Anyone familiar with his writing knows that Kurt Vonnegut faced this many times, and had considered his mortality at great length. He would despair, and he would make his peace, and he would repeat the process all over again, often in the course of a few short paragraphs in a short chapter. Perhaps he had it right; coming to terms with one’s mortality is no reason to stop searching for fresh insights on the matter. Perhaps my familiarity with his work is the reason I feel queasy whenever I meet someone who’s completely sure of something.

I have not lost a peer. Kurt Vonnegut had lived for fifty-eight years before I was born, and had already written much of his most influential work. Instead, my colleagues and I have lost another in a long line of teachers and, for lack of a better word, heroes.

As I have remarked in the past, I have a nasty record with heroes, and it’s been getting worse lately. The last ten years have given us nearly constant bad news about the people we admire. Vonnegut of course, and Douglas Adams, Hunter S. Thompson, and Robert Anton Wilson, just to list the first few writers who spring to mind. Johnny Cash is gone, and the other Beatle I liked, and we’ve only got one Ramone left. A cool professor who I never met shall lecture forevermore in Valhalla. For years, I have joked that all the cool people are fleeing the planet to avoid some impending catastrophe. I now suspect I should not have called it a joke.

These writers and artists, these philosophers, sages, luminaries and other professional thinking persons, gave us, their students, the greatest gift imaginable: they made us realize that we weren’t all that original, and that all the crazy crap we’d thought of had been published twenty years earlier. Suddenly we had guides, people who had gone through all the madness before us, and who had been kind enough to take notes. And best of all, a lot of them were still alive! Whenever the world started getting too crazy, we could ask them if they’d ever seen anything like it before, and how they got through it the first time.

Whenever the world loses such a guide, we feel as though we have been sent out into the wilderness before our time, our training left incomplete. There are no benevolent blue Jedi ghosts to tell us we’re ready. In time we will become confident enough to carry on the work of those who came before. Perhaps someone will even emerge as a worthy successor. That process is slow, however, and in the meantime we can only wait to see which of these impudent young grasshoppers will rise up to inspire the next generation of artists, geeks, and idealists.

Until that happens, I know that I am not alone in hoping for one final insight or insult or hallucination from Mr. Vonnegut, one last bit of satire dressed up as wide-eyed innocence.

Like Vonnegut, I pause to read over what I have written, and wish I had written something else. I wish that my points didn’t wander, and I wish my revelations only came at appropriate times, instead of popping in to fuck up a lovely obituary. In a part of my mind that should know better, I wish he hadn’t died in the same old way everyone else dies, with the same three words he had long appended to each life lost: so it goes.

In the end, though, that’s the point. We may be lost in the wilderness, and fully justified in feeling upset, but we will continue moving forward through time whether we choose to or not. Kurt Vonnegut, yet another of our lights, our sages, is dead; his linear stroll through time has ended. So it goes.

Discordians and other fans were saddened, though not particularly surprised, when author and philosopher-genius Robert Anton Wilson died on Thursday, January 11, after a prolonged illness. Plagued by Post-Polio Syndrome for many years, Wilson’s medical problems were brought to a climax late last year when his accelerating sickness was coupled with unexpected poverty. A largely internet-based fundraising campaign swiftly raised the necessary cash to cover his medical expenses, which allowed him to die in relative comfort.

In December, Wilson began keeping a blog from his hospital bed, though his entries were few. The most relevant came five days before his death, on January 6:

“Various medical authorities swarm in and out of here predicting I have between two days and two months to live. I think they are guessing. I remain cheerful and unimpressed. I look forward without dogmatic optimism but without dread. I love you all and I deeply implore you to keep the lasagna flying.

Please pardon my levity, I don’t see how to take death seriously. It seems absurd.

RAW”

The following message appeared on that same blog, and eventually on many other sites, serving as the official announcement (probably originating from one of the Maybe Logic insiders).:

“Robert Anton Wilson Defies Medical Experts and leaves his body @4:50 AM on binary date 01/11.

All Hail Eris!

On behalf of his children and those who cared for him, deepest love and gratitude for the tremendous support and lovingness bestowed upon us.

(that’s it from Bob’s bedside at his fnord by the sea)”

Compared to the deaths of other superheroes in recent years, this one is, due to its expectedness, surprisingly easy to take. Douglas Adams’ treadmill heart attack in 2001 was felt with horrified disbelief, and I still find it disturbing to think about. When Hunter S. Thompson fed himself a shotgun sandwich in 2005, we were all shocked, but upon reflection, we probably should have seen it coming. In comparison, Wilson had a long time to prepare, and was, by all accounts on record, at peace when the time came. The many, many people who look upon him as a brilliant teacher (myself included) perhaps have had time to come to terms with the inevitable, as well.

Look, people, I’m not very religious, and I don’t know what happens to people after they die, but I do know one thing. If anyone is clever enough to pull off the Obi-Wan Kenobi “if you strike me down I’ll become more powerful than you can possibly imagine”/friendly blue ghost trick, it’s Robert Anton Wilson. And I think that says a lot. Even if most of us do no more than take the dirt sleep, I think maybe ‘ol RAW is still out there somewhere, making trouble.

Meanwhile, his estate is planning a memorial service for February (presumably in California), date forthcoming. Rawilson.com is probably the best place to watch if you’re interested in when the service will be held. Also, the folks over at discordian.com, who were already planning on holding a Papal Inauguration ceremony and ritual at the PantheaCon pagan convention in San Jose, CA in February, are now planning on holding their own Wilson memorial during the convention.

Update:
Since RAW was so often snubbed by the mainstream media during his lifetime, it didn’t even occur to me to look there for further coverage of his death. It seems the New York Times has proven me wrong, with a nice and lengthy obituary on their website. Among other things, they cover his many books and even mention Discordians in the context of The Illuminatus! Trilogy, describing them as a group who “resist [The Illuminati] through convoluted tactics that include a network of double agents.” A bit vague, yes, but how often do you see Discordians mentioned in the New York Times?

Ladies and gentlemen, the Midterm Elections are upon us!  Congressional control stands to change hands and incumbents risk punishment nationwide (for being around, if nothing else).  It’s an exciting time.  We’re hoping it lives up to the hype. That’s why tonight, after returning home from work, I and all other good American citizens will be engaging in the most important of all Election Day traditions: watching television.  Preferably with snacks and drinks.  So here’s a friendly reminder from The Beak to you: order that pizza early, and make an extra beer run.  You won’t want to be caught unrefreshed when it’s time to celebrate or mourn or yawn or whatever you feel is the appropriate response, depending on how the final scores tally with your own political opinions.

Have a good Election Day.  We’ll get back to you when we have something worth saying.

Rumors regarding a disturbing turn of fortune for Discordian guru Robert Anton Wilson began to circulate around the Internet a couple of weeks ago. These involved reports of a decline in his health from a preexisting condition, but also of previously unknown financial difficulties. The worst appears to be over, at least for now, but for those of you who are still wondering exactly what happened and where the information was coming from, we at The Beak have prepared a brief summary.

A little background: Robert Anton Wilson was the genius behind The Illuminatus! Trilogy, an early conspirator and friend to the founders of Discordianism, and the prolific author of a score of philosophical works, including Prometheus Rising and Cosmic Trigger. He is revered alongside the great minds of the Counterculture, right up there with people like Tim Leary and William S. Burroughs, though he is far less well-known at present, and his nonfiction works are increasingly difficult to find even in the independent occult bookshops where they once thrived. Nonetheless, he is still an inspiration to millions, and far ahead of his time. He has suffered from Post-Polio Syndrome for over a decade, and his death has been rumored more than once (the most famous instance is chronicled in Cosmic Trigger III: My Life After Death). The subject of a 2003 documentary rich and exciting in video clips and interviews but dreadful in terms of cinematography, Wilson has, for the last few years, been considered to be in declining health, albeit the sort of declining health that could last for several years.

Which brings us to October 2, 2006.

The first indication that something was afoot that most of us got came in the form of postings on a variety of online message boards, featuring the headline, “Robert Anton Wilson Needs Our Help.” These early postings all linked to one source: author and media theorist Douglas Rushkoff’s blog. Rushkoff was featured in the Wilson documentary, and appears to have forged a certain friendship with Wilson which has resulted in, among other things, a teaching position with the fledgling Maybe Logic Academy. Evidently, Rushkoff was the Go-to Guy first contacted when Wilson came to his financial difficulties.

The first blog, on October 2, informed us that Wilson’s “infirmity and depleted finances have put him in the precarious position of not being able to meet next month’s rent.” He continued with, “Right now, Bob is a human being in a rather painful fleshsuit, who needs our help.” And after a personal note, included a Paypal account and a postal address where donations could be sent.

This was all very worrying, moreso due to the post’s vagueness.

The next piece of useful information came later that day from Mark Frauenfelder of boingboing.net, a site which gains a measure of credibility due to its association with visionary writer Cory Doctorow. Frauenfelder revealed a message he had received from Denis Berry, reportedly a friend who was managing Wilson’s care, who wrote, “Robert is dying at his home from post polio syndrome. He has enough money for next month’s rent and after that, will be unable to pay. He cannot walk, has a hard time talking and swallowing, is extremely frail and needs full time care that is being provided by several friends-fans-volunteers and family. We appeal to you to help financially for the next few months to let him die at his home in peace.”

With this message, readers all over the Internet began to realize the potential gravity of the situation. Boingboing repeated the donation address, and the donations soon circulated as fast as the rumors.

Over the next couple of days a variety of summaries turned up on prominent Discordian sites, such as 23ae.com, but the only original data appeared to be coming from Rushkoff and Frauenfelder. On October 3, Frauenfelder ran another note from Berry, which stated, “this morning Bob’s daughter [Christina] showed up at his house in tears because she had checked his PayPal account and found money for next month’s rent plus more.” Rushkoff ran a similar announcement a couple of days later. But it was not until October 5 when we heard from the man in his own words. First published on Wilson’s own site:

“Dear Friends, my God, what can I say. I am dumbfounded, flabbergasted, and totally stunned by the charity and compassion that has poured in here the last three days. To steal from Jack Benny, “I do not deserve this, but I also have severe leg problems and I don’t deserve them either.” Because he was a kind man as well as a funny one, Benny was beloved. I find it hard to believe that I am equally beloved and especially that I deserve such love. Whoever you are, wherever you are, know that my love is with you. You have all reminded me that despite George W. Bush and all his cohorts, there is still a lot of beautiful kindness in the world.
Blessings,
Robert Anton Wilson”

And so the matter remained for a while. The donation drive was officially called off, though reports of official totals differed. On October 5, Boingboing reported (via a note from Wilson’s daughter) a total of over $68,000. On October 9 Rushkoff reported a total of over $80,000. A newsletter from the Maybe Logic Academy dated October 19, supplied to me by Lady L. (F.A.B.) reported a total of “more than $50,000”. Discrepancies aside, the financial side of the crisis seemed to be at an end. Discordians and other Wilson enthusiasts, demonstrating the power of the Internet as a medium of rally and communication, came out of the woodwork determined to make sure that their hero not be troubled by the material world. To my knowledge, this is the swiftest and most effective Discordian initiative on record, and they are to be congratulated.

Probably the main reason Wilson’s fans focused so heavily on the financial aspect of the situation was because they could do something about it. We’re helpless in the face of a major illness, but we’re damned sure not going to allow the added disgrace of poverty. Rushkoff probably put it best when he said, “I refuse for the history books to say he died alone and destitute, for I want future generations to know we appreciated Robert Anton Wilson while he was alive.”

But what of Wilson’s health? His condition is neither new nor surprising, and many fans have already made peace with the understanding that the inevitable is, well, inevitable.

On October 10, Wilson’s site ran the following announcement, explaining a bit more about where the latest health complications had come from: “Bob has post-polio syndrome which has severely damaged his legs and weakened his body. He had a hard fall in June of this year which landed him in the hospital. He has since not been able to walk and is thus confined to his bed, requiring 24 hour care. Due to Bob’s acute weakness in June and July, many of his family and friends felt that Bob could go at any time. He has since rallied slowly with up’s and down’s, and like most things, his condition seems in the maybe state. Bob has no pain, has a hearty appetite, is in steady good, sharp humor and is surrounded by family and friends.”

That sounds pretty good, all things considered, but the most recent data available comes to us from Rushkoff, dated October 13, in the form of a thank-you note and photo. Take a look. His appearance is heartbreakingly frail, but look in his eyes and you’ll see the same old superhero.

That’s where our story ends, for the time being. If anyone has any further information I may have missed, please send it my way via lordhoratio@gmail.com. And I’m happy to report that, even if you have trouble finding them in stores, his books are still available for order online. What better way to celebrate a great thinker than by actually paying attention?

Remi Frazier is either an utter genius, or completely off his rocker.

Quite possibly both.

On June 16th, 2006 Remi Frazier left Fort Collins, Colorado on the first flight out of Denver International Airport with a one-way ticket to New York and $100 in his pocket. His goal is to find out what happened to the American Dream. To do this, he has given himself 30 days to reach New York, create a business plan, and turn $100 in liquid assets into $1,000,000. Equipped with a video camera, courtesy of the film works crew, and powered by a dedicated staff of volunteers, Remi is cataloguing his progress through New York. Along the way, he has and will continue to meet other people all chasing the same dream. It is with great anticipation that we await both the unveiling of his mysterious product line, and the subsequent documentary. Remi, from everybody in Colorado;

Good luck, you marvelous bastard.

And if you find it, let us know.

http://www.remifrazier.com

http://www.myspace.com/milliondollardestiny

The American flag stands for more than our power and our interests. Our founders dedicated this country to the cause of human dignity, the rights of every person, and the possibilities of every life. This conviction leads us into the world to help the afflicted, and defend the peace, and confound the designs of evil men.
~George W. Bush, January 31, 2006
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The following headline is currently running on CNN as of 10:30 A.M. EST.: BREAKING NEWS: Al Jazeera airs audiotaped message purportedly from Osama bin Laden warning that plans for attacks inside U.S. are under way.
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“Sammy Alito,” rhymes with “burrito.”
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The new nominee makes all the mystery surrounding John Roberts look downright quaint.
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