The death of Robin Williams has lost its pop culture significance. This is not cold-hearted or mean-spirited of me to say; it is just a representation of our now-current cultural mindset.
The death of Robin Williams has lost its pop culture significance.
This is not cold-hearted or mean-spirited of me to say; it is just a representation of our now-current cultural mindset.
A mere three weeks after his shocking suicide, the conversation has shifted from his untimely passing to other riveting conversations, like how Jennifer Lawrence, Kate Upton and other celebrities are naked on the Internet.
So, while the majority of the American public seems to misinterpret the real issues of that pop culture “scandal” or “sex crime,” it’s time to ask the bigger questions. What have we learned from the passing of Robin Williams? More importantly, what does his passing mean to us? Anything?
I, like many people, am obsessed with pop culture and filmed entertainment, and I adored Williams. Even through his patchier material. Every comedian has their rough spots, and Williams was no different. As much as I loved the performer, I cannot find many good things to say about duds such as Death to Smoochy and RV. But I could go on and on about how wonderful of a performer and person Williams was, and I already did—as did so many other people. But that’s no longer the point.
The point, now, is to realize just how significant of a problem mental illness is. And just how widespread and damaging its effects can be on a countrywide and worldwide level.
Although Williams depression supposedly developed in his later years, following a career on a downward slope and experiencing the early stages of Parkinson’s, according to his wife, depression still got the best of him.
He seemed to have all the money, fans and love he could ever want. But it didn’t matter, and that is what is truly heartbreaking about his death. He seemed to have so many years of entertaining still in him.
Despite this nationwide example, nobody seems to be looking into just how serious depression can be. Rather, fans either simply wallow in pity or say that heathen spawns of Satan possessed him or some crap like that.
A star that everyone seemed to love died a tragic and, more importantly, preventable death. But nobody seems to want to dig into how prevalent and how high up this problem can go. By ignoring the greater crisis, the issue remains unsolved, and Williams’ death becomes sadly insignificant.
Yes, he had a family whom he left without a husband or a father. Yes, he was rich, famous and beloved, and yet he still had feelings of self-doubt and self-hate. It sounds like he had it all, but that wasn’t enough to keep him from leaving. Either he thought it wasn’t worth it in the long run, or a deep-seeded hate compelled him past the endless love and support. That is the point that should haunt people the most, but it doesn’t.
People say depression is not an illness. That people should just learn to cheer up and get over their problems. Just laugh a little, right? That will make it all better. Well, one of the funniest people on the planet seemed to have all the jokes in the world. Look how much that mattered to his self-esteem.
Depression is as serious a disease as any other — and that, sadly, it’s no laughing matter.
Will Ashton is a senior studying journalism and a writer for The Post. What was your favorite Robin Williams movie? Email him at wa054010@ohiou.edu.
