search for something...

search for something you might like...

RIP Mitch Hedberg

RIP Mitch Hedberg

by Alex V. Cook, Music Editor
first published: April, 2005

approximate reading time: minutes

If you are in the position to do so, pour a little bongwater on the ground before your next hit

Fish are always eating other fish. If fish could scream, the ocean would be loud as shit. You would not want to submerge your head, nothing but fish going "AWWWW Fuck! I thought I looked like that rock!"

Mitch Hedberg died the other night, supposedly of a drug overdose in a motel room in Jersey City. If he were still here, his comment on it would perhaps be (delivered in his characteristic stilted delivery) "That is not an ironic place to die. The maid would come in and say 'It looks like someone died in here' and I would pop up and say 'I DID' That is no longer an expression." His jokes, in the style of Steven Wright's quick punch observations laced with dope humor have been on the surface of my consciousness for the last year, when a friend turned me onto him. He is the true friend-of-everyman comic, not like a Paul Riser or Jeff Foxworthy, not fake real-life everyman, but that lovable loser you can't shake from your cadre, because they are still fucking funny, even though they called you from the casino bar asking you to cover their shift tomorrow.

I would like to go fishing and catch a fishstick. That would be convenient. I could easily get a job with Mrs Paul's. Just put me in a boat with some empty boxes, and I will return them to the freezer section of your neighborhood grocery store.

His style was anything but polished. It felt like he could mess that joke up any minute, which only served to make him funnier. His vulnerability was as real as his humor, with the wait-dig-this bong hit explosions of genius blossoming in the soil of apartment living and too much PlayStation. Its a shame his habits had to get the best of him, like they will with all of us in one way or another. He was a funny guy, and we need more funny guys in the world. If you are in the position to do so, pour a little bongwater on the ground before your next hit.

I'm sick of following my dreams. I'm just going to ask them where they're goin' and hook up with them later.

Alex V. Cook
Music Editor

Alex V. Cook listens to everything and writes about most of it. His latest book, the snappily titled Louisiana Saturday Night: Looking for a Good Time in South Louisiana's Juke Joints, Honky-Tonks, and Dance Halls is an odyssey from the backwoods bars and small-town dives to the swampside dance halls and converted clapboard barns of a Louisiana Saturday Night. Don't leave Heathrow without it. His first book Darkness Racket and Twang is available from SideCartel. The full effect can be had at alex v cook.com
about Alex V. Cook »»

Attrition Banner

Monroe Moon at Corks in Bearwood on Friday April 5th web banner

RECENT STORIES

RANDOM READS

All About and Contributors

HELP OUTSIDELEFT

Outsideleft exists on a precarious no budget budget. We are interested in hearing from deep and deeper pocket types willing to underwrite our cultural vulture activity. We're not so interested in plastering your product all over our stories, but something more subtle and dignified for all parties concerned. Contact us and let's talk. [HELP OUTSIDELEFT]

WRITE FOR OUTSIDELEFT

If Outsideleft had arms they would always be wide open and welcoming to new writers and new ideas. If you've got something to say, something a small dank corner of the world needs to know about, a poem to publish, a book review, a short story, if you love music or the arts or anything else, write something about it and send it along. Of course we don't have anything as conformist as a budget here. But we'd love to see what you can do. Write for Outsideleft, do. [SUBMISSIONS FORM HERE]

OUTSIDELEFT UNIVERSE

The Retrofuturists Are Back February 29th
OUTSIDELEFT Night Out
weekend

outsideleft content is not for everyone