David Warner died today.
And while, yes, he was a man, and an actor, and a damned good one for sixty-goddamned-years; and while you’ll surely remember him as Master Control Program in TRON, and from Twin Peaks, and various Star Trekings, he will — to me — always be the Evil Genius.
For I have taken on this character of his as my namesake, here on this goddamned blog. I have, under his dastardly influence, stood up for evil. and Evil. I have, on his behalf, insisted that we remake the world and start with lasers, eight-o’clock, day one. I have learned about digital watches. I have pondered the purpose — if one exists — behind male nipples. I lamented his incineration and explosion at the hands of that pompous fool the Supreme Being and been glad, yes glad, that enough of his foulness escaped to be foolishly touched by foolish people. The fools!
Just watch Time Bandits again, okay? That’s David Warner. That was David Warner. He was evil, and a genius, and the Evil Genius. Perfectly so.
To him, our tightly rolled time maps are raised.
Just this past weekend I was eagerly counting down the days until my daughter would be old enough to watch and appreciate Time Bandits without being scared out of her jimmy-jams. That day will soon come. And her brain will explode with knowing, thanks to the best kids’ film ever.
And sure. This isn’t really about me, or her, but what could be more evil than making a man’s whole life and career about person he never has nor never will meet? And so, what could be more apt.
Here’s to Evil and David Warner. Respectfully, may you rule in hell.