Sometimes words fail.
As an occassional target of the venom-coated rapier that was Cronan Thompson's wit, I was looking forward to having him heckle me on my next project... and my next one, and my next. Even more, I was looking forward to the time, in five or ten years, when I would be able to heckle Cronan on a project of his own.
It would've happened, I'm sure. Could've. Would've. Should've.
In his usenet postings, Cronan could be scathing, mean, and juvenile, but he could also be brilliantly hilarious and surprisingly insightful. Even in his far too brief span among us, Cronan made a lasting impression. I have no doubt that, given time, he would have done far more.
Part of me would like to think that this is just one great last brilliant troll, a way for him to shed his Cronan persona like a butterfly casting away his chrysalis, ready to emerge in a colorful new form.
And maybe, in a way, that's what it is. One thing's for sure, a soul like his is too damn much fun to waste.
Robert Hewitt Wolfe
PS. To Cronan, wherever you are, "ook"
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