I am feeling a bit strange at the moment. It’s been a weird week in Internet Land for little ol’ Darren. In a different life, I run a music discussion site and it turns out that one of my members, who had not posted for a while, had committed suicide. This guy, Malcolm Xerxes, was a fellow Brit relocated to Canada and we’d had numerous dealings via the site. He came across as a little eccentric but a decent, friendly guy. He got my humour. He always got my oblique references in the postings that I made and he was a supporter.

He even once sent me a cheque to help support the site. Unfortunately, it would have cost more to get the bank to cash the cheque than the actual value of it. So I kept the cheque for posterity. I am glad I did in a way.
The events surrounding his death are murky. A woman was found shot twice in the head and once in the stomach and it turns out that this was his girlfriend. Some say that this was his ex-girlfriend, some say it was his current girlfriend and the person he lived with. After making numerous failed calls to his friends, the next day he took his gun, went to the park and shot himself. He didn’t die instantly and medics failed to revive him on the scene.

Now I am not condoning what he did. I feel pity for all involved, but it is interesting to see how people behave. Some anonymous women accuse the guy of being a mysogynistic stalker, working his way through women and then treating them badly. Some say that the woman he shot was his girlfriend of two years, some say that they were only going out for a short while. His bandmates and work colleagues say he was a wonderful guy, he was “Uncle Malcolm”. During one of the private discussion to me, he revealed that one of the reasons he hadn’t been online for a while was because a woman fan was stalking him and he had to move from his apartment.

I really don’t know what to think at all.

All I know is that a guy I liked is dead and the woman he may or may not have shot was left blinded by his actions. It’s been like a cloud hanging over me, so I did what I thought was right. I organised some flowers on behalf of the music communities he frequented and wrote a message on their behalf. I would hope that some kind soul would do the same for me if I ended up that way. It’s all sad, really. No more grokking the totality, no more uppercase, 10-foot high, crimson lettering. No more fun at the Parliament of Pachyderms.

Be seeing ya, Ian Malcolm…whoever you really were…

The cheque Malcolm Xerxes sent to help with the upkeep of my music website

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