Goodbye, Dear Sir

Your disdain for orthodoxy will be sorely missed. Less than 24 hours after the Deed, the world reflects with mouth agape. It dwells on your to-the-jugular, experiential stylistic bend and your trademark bird-flip to starched collar prohibition. And all the while, the world shakes its global head with an admonishing "You bastard."

Single gun shot to the head. Admirable in efficiency, I'll give you that. But efficiency is no band-aid for our heavy heart, nor does it stifle the desire to drop a heavy dose and hit the road.

You bastard, indeed.

Goodbye, dear sir.