RIP Gil Scott-Heron

Warning… This post will come off as a bit upset, a bit off-base and an increasing level of intoxicated with each such element growing the longer it takes me to write…

Last night, somewhere in the neighborhood of 9:40ish (yes, that is 2 “approximate” descriptors in one sentence), I arrived to the building deeded to me. Alcohol in the fridge, Chinese takeout on my fiancée’s plate and I am sitting down at my computer, my usual first spot I stake out in my house…
Zo! posts the status that says…

“Gil Scott-Heron, an extraordinary talent and HUGE influence and inspiration to many of us creatively. Rest in peace...

… man… you’ve GOT to be kidding me…

Beyond that, though?
Dude, the Lakers swept a couple weeks ago? My air conditioning not working right? My job apparently hates me?
NONE OF THAT mattered now.
The response I could muster was…

“this news just ruined my night”

Then I took up my mobile communications device to retweet/tell people, all in my continued shock from the news at hand.

As a dude who has means to make music on his computers, as an often liberal-thinking person with political opinion somewhat near to the recently deceased, as a dude who often agreed with the poetry presented, I was upset with the loss…
As a dude who saw a person who ALWAYS said the shit that I could not, I was MOTHERFUCKING UPSET. Seriously, it was a gang member losing an OG… Look, I did not cry when Michael Jackson died. However, when Gil Scott-Heron was finished, somehow there was some fuckin dust in my computer room while I listened to Pieces of a Man.

Rest in power, Gil

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