Deathbed
It is said that on his deathbed, the beautiful and brilliant Albert Einstein was surrounded by notebooks and pencils. As he had for the latter part of his life, the great one was at work on a theory of everything, an equation that would have unified relativity with the workings of quantum mechanics. Einstein slipped away before finalizing it and you have to wonder if his last mortal thought was: “Aha! It is so simple! Now to just jot it down… Whoa! My heart!”
Beeeeeeeeep. Flatline. The affable genius who so understood time could not gain one more morsel of it and so a world of scientists continue hunting for the answers even still.
Many of the classical composers left behind unfinished symphonies when they drew their last breaths. Same with novelists, songwriters, playwrights and poets. Brilliant masterpieces have been swiped by the cool hand of mortality reaching down to hault away another genius before he’s prepared for his end.
As Morrison said: “Oh, great creator of being, grant us one more hour to perform our art and perfect our lives.”
There is something sad and maddening about incomplete art — about the final second ticking away before that final crowning achievement can be recognized. And a comic strip is no exception. Again, you have to imagine that Johnny Hart was about to sketch his ultimate rib tickler when his moment came. Perhaps it was the high comedy of the moment that sent him to his doom.
American cartoonist Johnny Hart, known as the creator of the comic strip B.C. and co-creator of the strip The Wizard of Id, has died of a stroke at his home in Nineveh, N.Y., at 76. The funeral is scheduled for Friday, his wife of 55 years, Bobby, told AP. She said he was working at his drawing table at the time of his death.
April 10th, 2007 at 3:42 am
A saint has gone home
Johnny Hart was a faithful witness in his art. He will be missed.
HollywoodJesus has the lowdown (with graphics) on
JOHNNY HART AND THE EASTER CONTROVERSY
B.C. COMICS the 2001 incident
For those of you who do not know Johnny Hart and what took
April 10th, 2007 at 12:08 pm
I would beg to differ. What did Mr. Hart do that qualified for sainthood ? Drew a cartoon strip and espoused a particular religious tenet. Caused controversy when liberals & others got upset at what he drew. So . . . . big deal. Tempest in a tea pot.
mmm’kay
IMHO, his religion panels weren’t particularly funny. There are a number of previous ones that were considerably funnier. Can religion be funny ? Sure it can be, but unless you understand the particular religion and what foible is being highlighted, most of it won’t make sense. Example: an older Catholic will understand immediately “do black patent leather shoes reflect up ?”; but a jewish person might not have a clue.
More interesting is that he died while working at something he liked and something he otherwise did well. That is something to be envied; especially in todays time when old people are put away, out of sight and out of mind, into old age homes to just . . . disappear.
April 11th, 2007 at 1:03 am
The Hour of our Death. When it arrives, theories, comic strips, artistic works, financial accomplishments, power, control, sexual desires , human recognition will all be meaningless for it will be The Hour of our Death .
April 11th, 2007 at 2:44 am
Unless you make like Walt Disney and have your ass frozen. Cryonics, baby! Reserve your meat locker here: http://www.cryonics.org/
April 11th, 2007 at 3:32 am
Why die doing something you love? Wouldn’t it be so much better dying doing something you hate?
“Your tax audit is done Mr Laflamme, and looks like you owe…Mr Laflamme? Mr Laflamme?”
“Open up for your root canal MT. MT?”
“And now for the first in a long night of childerns violin concertos…”
“Honey, can you run to the store and buy me some womanly products? Honey?”
“Welcome to Shawshank. Here’s your roomate, Big Dick Mcgee.”
“We’re going to Disney World for an entire week!”
“Hi, I’m Dan and I’ll be your new roomate.”
April 11th, 2007 at 6:28 am
Wow Gil, you must psychic. There is NOTHING I hate more than going to the dentist. Twice a year I sit in that damn chair getting a cleaning, wishing I would just die instead. Good call.