matter what, Richard Attenborough was no Edmund Gwenn. I knew him as an actor from
"The Great Escape," "The Sand Pebbles," "A Bridge Too Far,"
"Jurassic Park," and that awful remake of "Miracle on 34th Street,"
the latter being his fall from grace as far as I was concerned. Yeah, yeah, I
know all about "Gandhi" and "Cry Freedom," but you just
can't fuck with Santa Claus and not expect to be held accountable.
Anyway, the guy with a million titles and corporate appointments had a heart
attack six years ago, and a few months later he fell and had a stroke, but even
before the fall I had him on my list. After the fall he was like a pick with a
gilt edge, and then he became ... The Thing That Wouldn't Die.
His kids were dead, his grandchildren were dead, his wife of seventy years was
off in CrazyPeople Town, and still he sat there in his wheelchair, blanket over
his crusty old knees, drool hanging from his bewhiskered chin, refusing to
grant a few lousy points to deadpool players around the world.
Last laugh, Attenborough: Allen Kirshner, Allezblancs, Bill Schenley, Chipmunk
Roasting, Dead People Server Curator, Deceased Hose, and Sarndra all get two
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