I think I’ve mentioned here before that I’ve put myself on essay-hiatus (except for a few choice projects) in order to focus on two new book projects, but yesterday I was slightly tempted to write something about the possible change in narrative surrounding Robin Williams’s suicide.  In case you weren’t paying attention, a few days ago, the information that Williams had Lewy body dementia went public.  LBD “usually leads to significant cognitive impairment that interferes with everyday life.”  Back when he died, most people connected his despair to his longtime struggle with addictions, but now it seems he had what many would considerable a more “justifiable” reason for ending his life.  Taken aside the recent high-profile gentle suicide of Brittany Maynard, and the interesting argument journalist Lisa Miller made in a New York Magazine article a few weeks ago.  The piece ends: ” The dignity thing is a red herring, in my opinion, which privileges our voyeurism and consoles the control freaks among us, allowing us to fantasize that in death we can still be young and strong and in charge of outcomes and to look past the bare fact that life and death are unfair, disgusting, and heartbreaking sometimes, and there’s nothing at all to be done about that.”  Not exactly sure where I’m going with all this, but something is a-brewing…

In other news, yesterday I made red velvet CAKIES!

Seriously.  That's what they're called.

Seriously. That’s what they’re called.

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