No Small Amount Of Oddness

The West Wing is on Bravo. I love this show.

Aaron Sorkin's dialogue (when he still wrote the show, mind you) has a cadence all its own. It's something I admire, and have yet to attempt in my own work. Gotta learn to walk before you can... plaigiarize another writer's popular style. *Weak shrug*

In any case. It's the first time I've seen John Spencer on screen since he passed away. I can't look at him without thinking, "He's gone now. There's a finite supply of his work on film. That's all there is." It feels very odd. Jarring.

I'll get the same feeling, I'm sure; the next time I see any of Richard Pryor's stand-up material.

Shit.

Am I being overly sentimental about two men that I've never met? Maybe. It's still... fresh in my mind.

I remember when John Candy and Chris Farley passed away. Phil Hartman, too. Other actors (and performers) have died, and it didn't leave me with this particular feeling. I don't like it.

Enough o' this. More to follow. On happier topics. Promise.