The End of the Corcodile Hunter

Two days ago Steve Erwin died. Hail and farewell to the Crocodile hunter. The man was invincible; he would wrestle crocodiles with his bare hands, reach and pick up venous without thinking twice and stand there talking camly while they twisted in the air and did their best to do him in. The thing is, they never could. No matter how hard she tried, Mother Nature never could strike that man down--untill now.
Some people called him crazy and I'll admit that I laughed at him more than a couple of times myself. In retrospect though, it's hard to not have at least a little respect for a man who could--and would--willingly go and take on deadly creatures mono-a-mono.
Anyway, sane or otherwise, I'll miss him and I think that the world is a sorrier, more boring place for his passing.
The ironic thing is that what killed him in the end isn't really that dangerous: a stingray. Stingrays can be nasty--being venemous and all--but the venom washes out if you just stay in the ocean for a bit. Plenty of people get stung all the time and end up just fine--cruises let you swim with them some times. He got stung in the heart though, at which point there isn't much anyone can do. It's ironic that the man who wrestled crocs with his bare hands was killed by the fairly gentle sting-ray.
At any rate, I'd like to announce a brief moment of silence for Steve Erwin, whose presence and acts heroism (insanity?) will be missed.