Here's the text of this story:
Ervin McKinness, a 21-year-old aspiring rapper, tweeted about driving drunk at 120 mph minutes before dying in a fiery one-car crash that killed the rapper and four others.
Drunk af going 120 drifting corners #FuckIt YOLO
Driving tweeting sipping the cup f*** yolo I'm turning it up
I'm admitting to a lot of terrible stuff in this column. Things I really probably should never admit to another human being -- not even to a stranger in a drunken stupor at a dive bar in the bad part of town -- and here I am posting it on the Internet. I don't know why. I'm having a minor stroke, I suspect. But in the interest of continued honesty: I don't actually feel bad for laughing at this story. I keep trying to. I keep trying to analyze the events objectively. An ignorant young man makes some mistakes while under the influence and pays for it with his life. It's a tragedy. Right?
I read that headline and I see an idiot hollering "YOLO" out the window of his frat right before he jumps into a pile of garbage cans, as though the willful ignorance of consequences will serve as some sort of metaphysical barrier to keep them at bay. I see an idiot posting about his crimes on Twitter in a dire effort to impress somebody with a SpongeBob avatar. I see an idiot proudly drinking while driving (in this case, not the same guy texting, like that makes the slightest bit of difference). I see all of those idiots combined together like a Megazord of idiocy, and my sympathy just ... calls in sick.
I don't think the dude deserved it or anything. I don't wish harm on stupid people or rejoice in the harm that comes upon them, but I've searched all over for a way to feel bad for him, and I just can't find it.
Maybe it's under the couch.
A teenager was decapitated by an amusement park ride at Six Flags Over Georgia, after he hopped a pair of fences and entered a restricted area to retrieve a hat he lost while riding the Batman roller coaster.
You probably don't need to hear this disclaimer again. It's probably not going to help anybody's opinion of me at this point. I'm sure the black helicopters are already on their way. But it's worth repeating that I don't find anything funny about tragedy or loss of life in general.
But man, if you're gonna go ...
Listen: You could die at any moment. You could die in a car crash. You could die of an aneurysm, right now, reading this stupid sentence. You might have cancer growing inside of you at this very second. Or maybe you're just going to get up from your computer, trip over your cat, and bash your brains in on your shoe rack. Death can happen at any time, and most likely yours is going to be boring or pointless, and although folks will be sad, nobody will ultimately find anything particularly notable about it.
Or you could get your head punted off by fucking Batman.
If you absolutely had to choose, which way would you go?
I'm saying, when you get up to the pearly gates and they ask how you died, "shoe rack" may get some condolences, but "I got my head punted off by a Batman roller coaster" is getting you a high-five and a "nice" from Saint Peter.