It's really odd when a funny person dies. It's one of those cases in which you say, "He's gone, but we'll always remember him."
Seriously. If you were walking down the street, and you saw a clown dying from multiple stab wounds, that would be both tragic and funny. You'd think to yourself, "Man, it sucks that the clown is dead. Who would stab a clown through the aorta?" But then you'd chuckle when you remembered how, like water, blood shot through the flower on his lapel; and how his face was painted like a smile, but inside he must have been writhing in abject misery. That would be ironic. What do you think, Alanis?
I downloaded a comedy album by Mitch Hedberg and laughed uproariously throughout its 45 minute duration. To my dismay, I later learned that Mitch died last year. He has another album, and I'm sure to get my hands on it, but it won't be the same. While I will certainly enjoy his humor, knowing that this is it, that I will have heard both of his albums and will never hear another, my spirits will be dampened.
Carrot Top lives, and Mitch Hedberg is dead. Add this to the list (between Iraq and extra-large spandex) of what's wrong with this world.