So. Jerry Falwell is dead.


Several of my friends are happy that he is no longer breathing the same air as those of us who don’t have deep, festering, hate-filled wounds where souls usually reside, but I can’t quite bring myself to join in their rejoicing. Death has always made me a little sad, no matter who it is. I can’t help it. And, oddly enough, that’s the case here.

I didn’t like Falwell at all. Many’s the time I’ve fleetingly considered serious violence on him and his ilk for such bigoted, hateful spew. I agree that he was a waste of skin. But death? Can’t go there. Just not who I am, I guess.

Oh well.

However, I do NOT wish that he would RIP. There should be no peace in Hell for the likes of him. If there is a Satan and he sent people to this earth to foment unrest and suffering, it’s obvious that Falwell and friends were amongst those sent. He’s just going back to where he was spawned.

SIH, Falwell.

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