crocodile hunter r.i.p.

i didn't really plan for this to be my next post and it's somewhat tangential to the heroic-asshole theme, but i don't really mind (well, contains elements of both heroism and asshole-ish behavior, but they're separate in this case). i was getting a lot of shit earlier today for being bummed out that steve irwin died yesterday. some people went so far as to say, "oh, he got what he deserved; if you want to live by jumping on alligators, then that's what you get." what an asshole thing to say. irwin loved animals—but he was by no means naive about it, as opposed to someone like timothy treadwell. irwin knew the line and knew when he was pushing it; he also did a lot of crazy shit and handled himself far better in very dangerous situations than you or i, as commoners in this world, would. the guy loved animals—and i'm by no means a fellow animal lover (i think of animals more like people; some i like and some i don't. i especially dislike little, yappy dogs.)—and he was passionate about them, but there never seemed to any other hidden agenda with him. i have to respect him—for his craziness and daring, but also for his passion and the fact that he always seemed honest about it. i don't know... part of me is trying to be less cynical and less uptight, despite the overall nature of this blog. i have to give it up to him. i had fun watching his shows. r.i.p.