Two unique personalities in the creative world checked out recently:
Roger Barrett. Known to the world as Syd Barrett. Famous acid casualty and founder of Pink Floyd. Two obituary links follow, but the best comment on Barrett’s passing is one I found on alt.music.pink-floyd: “I think it’s fair to say that Syd died 35 years ago. Roger Barrett kept on going. “
Lost Star Flickers Out (Detroit Free Press)
The Dark Archangel (Observer/Guardian UK)
You were caught on the crossfire of childhood and stardom,
blown on the steel breeze
Come on you target for faraway laughter
come on you stranger, you legend, you martyr, and shine
Mickey Spillane. Writer – he didn’t like the term author – of hardboiled detective novels and the character of Mike Hammer. Controversial in his time, he never considered himself anything other than a creator of commercial fiction, openly saying that his greatest motivation was an empty bank account. Like him or not, when he talks about writing salable fiction, you ought to listen.
Mickey Spillane dies at 88 (Ace of Spades HQ)
THE GUY WAS DEAD AS HELL. He lay on the floor in his pajamas with his brains scattered all over the rug and my gun was in his hand. I kept rubbing my face to wipe out the fuzz that clouded my mind but the cops wouldn’t let me. One would pull my hand away and shout a question at me that made my head ache even worse and another would slap me with a wet rag until I felt like I had been split wide open.
(Opening paragraph from Vengeance is Mine)
it’s the wise who leave when it’s time
who know the way to follow broken lines
the moments, each like hours,
the ocean’s way too wide