R.I.P. Crocodile Hunter, Steve Irwin
A few days ago we finished watching the last episode of Season 5 of Six Feet Under, one of the best TV series we've ever seen. In an odd way, we developed a deep attachment to the characters throughout the show, which became more obvious this season, when one of the main characters died... It felt very close, somehow (maybe it was also the death of my dad, who passed away around the time the fifth season was actually getting aired).
Alan Ball, the creator of the series, put it beautifully in the DVD of the last episode: "Until you face the truth of your own mortality, you can't really begin living your life." Indeed we all can die, and no other day has this been so true but today, when we all woke up to the news of the death of Steve Irwin, known worldwide as Crocodile Hunter... not bit a croc, but stung in the heart by a stingray.
As the day has evolved, it's become the talk of the blogosphere. As an enthusiastic advocate for wildlife conservation, he will be missed by many. But one of the things that struck me the most, I guess, was the fact that so many people in some odd way were shocked by his death... why, with all due respect, I ask?
Granted that his line of work was not precisely low risk, I heard in CNN this morning what may explain this reaction by so many: the fact that so many people saw him performing stunning acts of courage with wild animals, easily gets into people's subconscious making them believe that he's sort of immortal... much in the same way that Dr. Kubler-Ross described in her book On Death and Dying, how many saw as impossible that a war veteran could come to die of a simple accident: sadly, I guess, the fact that we've survived more dangerous situations in the past, does not grant us a passway into immortality.
It's one of those matters of life... as we are born, we die. The good thing about the Crocodile Hunter was that he led a good life, and he left a legacy behind him. That's what it's all about.
R.I.P. man... you sure did a nice job while you were around. You will be missed, I can tell those left behind.
Alan Ball, the creator of the series, put it beautifully in the DVD of the last episode: "Until you face the truth of your own mortality, you can't really begin living your life." Indeed we all can die, and no other day has this been so true but today, when we all woke up to the news of the death of Steve Irwin, known worldwide as Crocodile Hunter... not bit a croc, but stung in the heart by a stingray.
As the day has evolved, it's become the talk of the blogosphere. As an enthusiastic advocate for wildlife conservation, he will be missed by many. But one of the things that struck me the most, I guess, was the fact that so many people in some odd way were shocked by his death... why, with all due respect, I ask?
Granted that his line of work was not precisely low risk, I heard in CNN this morning what may explain this reaction by so many: the fact that so many people saw him performing stunning acts of courage with wild animals, easily gets into people's subconscious making them believe that he's sort of immortal... much in the same way that Dr. Kubler-Ross described in her book On Death and Dying, how many saw as impossible that a war veteran could come to die of a simple accident: sadly, I guess, the fact that we've survived more dangerous situations in the past, does not grant us a passway into immortality.
It's one of those matters of life... as we are born, we die. The good thing about the Crocodile Hunter was that he led a good life, and he left a legacy behind him. That's what it's all about.
R.I.P. man... you sure did a nice job while you were around. You will be missed, I can tell those left behind.
1 comment:
Manuel, what a beautiful post... you are such a great writer, how you put things together and everything makes sense.
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