Last Saturday, science fiction author and futurist Robert Anton Wilson posted the following on his blog:

Do Not Go Gently Into That Good Night

Various medical authorities swarm in and out of here predicting I have between two days and two months to live. I think they are guessing. I remain cheerful and unimpressed. I look forward without dogmatic optimism but without dread. I love you all and I deeply implore you to keep the lasagna flying.

Please pardon my levity, I don’t see how to take death seriously. It seems absurd.

According to the last blog entry, entered (presumably) by relatives and/or friends, Wilson died at 4:50 a.m. on January 11.