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    drinkyourjuice: Ryan Dunn’s death has hit me weirdly hard, and I’m gonna try to unpack it. Reasons Ryan Dunn being dead is sad: He was attractive. He seemed like the kindest, best-natured of the Jackass bros — the one who would come over and help you put together your new Ikea futon — and the planet cannot have enough of those. He put a car up his butt and then pretended to not know how it got there. He fucked around with his friends and made people laugh for a living, and not in a conventional way, either. There was no Jackass before there was Jackass. It wasn’t some suburban Pennsylvania career path that was available to these dudes. They made it. Just group of guys who had fun and were hilarious and creative together, and they were able to make lives for themselves doing it. There’s nothing more American than that, ya know? We’re all invested in that narrative, whether you liked the show or not. We all love a story about childhood friends with different but complimentary personalities growing up together and becoming adults who function just as much as they don’t function, but know each other in that quiet, bone marrow way you can only have with someone who’s been there for the whole thing. And these dudes were more than just each other’s friends, too, which is maybe what I’m getting at. They spoke to and informed the senses of humor of a whole generation of kids who might not have lived in a place where people thought the same shit was funny. Might not have listened to the same music or seen the appeal in stupid for stupid’s sake, and they made those kids feel connected to some bigger network of assholes. Some underground system of humans out there who were somehow the best and the fucking worst all at once. And facing the reality that that’s destructible — that even the most base-level joys we allow ourselves in this culture are completely fallible and subject to instantaneous pain and heartbreak — is kind of a jarring reality for a Monday morning.  It knocked the wind out of me, is what I’m getting at. It’s weird that just knowing another person is no longer on the planet can do that. Just inbetween bouts of insanity

    drinkyourjuice:

    Ryan Dunn’s death has hit me weirdly hard, and I’m gonna try to unpack it.

    Reasons Ryan Dunn being dead is sad:

    1. He was attractive.
    2. He seemed like the kindest, best-natured of the Jackass bros — the one who would come over and help you put together your new Ikea futon — and the planet cannot have enough of those.
    3. He put a car up his butt and then pretended to not know how it got there.
    4. He fucked around with his friends and made people laugh for a living, and not in a conventional way, either. There was no Jackass before there was Jackass. It wasn’t some suburban Pennsylvania career path that was available to these dudes. They made it. Just group of guys who had fun and were hilarious and creative together, and they were able to make lives for themselves doing it. There’s nothing more American than that, ya know? We’re all invested in that narrative, whether you liked the show or not. We all love a story about childhood friends with different but complimentary personalities growing up together and becoming adults who function just as much as they don’t function, but know each other in that quiet, bone marrow way you can only have with someone who’s been there for the whole thing. And these dudes were more than just each other’s friends, too, which is maybe what I’m getting at. They spoke to and informed the senses of humor of a whole generation of kids who might not have lived in a place where people thought the same shit was funny. Might not have listened to the same music or seen the appeal in stupid for stupid’s sake, and they made those kids feel connected to some bigger network of assholes. Some underground system of humans out there who were somehow the best and the fucking worst all at once. And facing the reality that that’s destructible — that even the most base-level joys we allow ourselves in this culture are completely fallible and subject to instantaneous pain and heartbreak — is kind of a jarring reality for a Monday morning. 

    It knocked the wind out of me, is what I’m getting at. It’s weird that just knowing another person is no longer on the planet can do that.

    Just inbetween bouts of insanity

    (via clambistro)