This Day in Death

8.17.15: Yvonne Craig, TV’s Batgirl – DEAD!

Filed under: Dead —James @ 6:25 pm August 23, 2015

YVONNE_CRAIGThere, American Dental Association: I just did in 15 seconds what you guys have spent 150 years trying to do. Pfft, dentists! Truly the podiatrists of the medical world.


Actress and reason I hit puberty 14 years before I was conceived Yvonne Craig has died of breast cancer at the age of 78. Best known as Batgirl in the ’60s Batman tv show, Craig was added to the series in the third and final season to boost ratings and de-sausage the crimefighting sausage fest that was going on in the Batcave. Hey, you know who I feel bad for? People trying to put together a literal sausage fest. It must be impossible to get funding for that anymore. I mean I like a good sausage as much as anybody, but I’d definitely never go to one. No way, I hear those places are total sausage fests, bro.

Craig also had a memorable guest spot on Star Trek as the green-skinned alien Marta. Typical Hollywood: Would rather cover a white woman in paint than just hire a green actor to begin with. And don’t even get me started on how disenfranchised translucent Americans are in show business. It’s like they’re invisible or something.

Her numerous TV credits besides “Batman” included “The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis,” “The Six Million Dollar Man,” “Kojak,” “Starsky and Hutch,” “Mod Squad,” “77 Sunset Strip,” “Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea,” “Love, American Style” and “Emergency!”

[…]

“She had been able to do this with joy and much laughter and she wouldn’t have changed a thing,” Ms. Craig’s family said. “Well, maybe one thing, and that would have been not to get cancer.”

Was that a burn on the recently deceased? Is there supposed to be a rimshot there or something? I’m not really offended morally, just professionally. Look, grieving family: I went to school for years to understand how to use autocorrect. Don’t try to horn in on my niche unless you’re looking for some serious trubble.

 

Source: The NY Times

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7.31.15: “Rowdy” Roddy Piper – DEAD!

Filed under: Dead —James @ 4:24 pm August 5, 2015

ROWDY_RODDY_PIPERPiper, right, opting to leave his shirt on during extreme physical exercise. It’s a good look, and suddenly I don’t feel so alone for refusing to go topless in the pool at the YMCA. Hey, if we could all have hairless shoulders the world would be a very different place.

 

“Rowdy” Roddy Piper, WWE Hall of Famer and the last person named “Rod” not to go into gay porn, was found dead in his Hollywood home last week. Piper’s death is being reported as natural causes, which may sound unusual considering he was only 61, but in wrestling years that puts him in, like, his early 400s. Those guys have life expectancies that make medieval peasants look like Greek gods.

Technically cast as a villain among the pro wrestling personalities of the World Wrestling Federation (also known as the WWF and later the WWE), Piper’s charisma, over-the-top personality, and boundless energy made him a key pop culture figure. The WWE has named him as the greatest villain in wrestling history.

I’ve discussed my utter confusion about wrestling before, but one area that I’m completely into is the impossibly steep curve of insane stunts that the fans force the wrestling industry to climb as time goes by. Once your headline is that Seth Rollins just beat a man with an actual steel fucking ladder there’s no going back to the fundamentals. The industry could survive another 10,000 years and you’ll never see anyone talk about trying a back to basics approach that really emphasizes holds and good sportsmanship. You’ve crossed a one-way threshold. If you were to travel just five years into the future your brain probably couldn’t even acclimate to how much more psychotic the whole thing will have become in such a relatively brief time. By 2020 you’ll have guys with surgically-altered lizard faces cannonballing through brick walls and ripping out each others’ shoulder blades to use as oars with which to paddle themselves to safety, since it all takes place within a Plexiglass cage that is slowly filling up with hundreds of gallons of the performers’ own HGH-infused sweat. And that’ll be the undercard.

Just, you know… no blood. It really sends the wrong message about violence, and these are family-friendly events.

 

Source: Screenrant

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