Although most religions forbid it, human societies throughout history have accepted suicide as a reality. Sometimes, as in Japan, it was seen as a matter of personal honor. Usually it was seen as an act of despair, or a manifestation of insanity. It can also be seen as a rational act, and to assist someone in committing it can be seen as an act of mercy.

I have never, even in my darkest hours, considered suicide. But with my troubles I have been fortunate; I've never had unbearable physical pain. In Barry Levinson's movie "You Don't Know Jack," Dr. Jack Kevorkian's best friend says his mother told him: "Imagine the worst toothache you've ever had. Now

imagine that's how it feels in every bone of your body."

@BAM_MARGERA I just lost my best friend, I have been crying hysterically for a full day and piece of shit roger ebert has the gall to put in his 2 cents

@BAM_MARGERA About a jackass drunk driving and his is one, fuck you! Millions of people are crying right now, shut your fat fucking mouth!

To begin with, I offer my sympathy to Ryan Dunn's family and friends, and to those of Zachary Hartwell, who also died in the crash. I mean that sincerely. It is tragic to lose a loved one. I also regret that my tweet about the event was considered cruel. It was not intended as cruel. It was intended as true.

I've revealed many personal details here, but the other day I discovered something I didn't much want to share. I am shrinking. During a routine test of my bone density, a nurse backed me up against a wall and used a built-in device to measure me.

"Five feet, five and a half inches," she said. If this was true, I had lost two and a half inches.

It could not be true, I reasoned. I must not have been standing up straight. My shoulders and back were damaged during surgery, and it's harder for me to do the ramrod routine. My head tends to lean forward. And so on and so forth.

Okay, so let's say I only lost two inches.

Jason Pankoke sends me a link from the Pantagraph of Bloomington-Normal, Illinois.

"Move over 3-D, here comes D-Box!" says the article by Dan Craft. "Instead of delivering movie thrills straight between the eyes, D-Box lifts and separates, so to speak -- detaching the moviegoer from his or her seat via three levels of pitching, rolling and heaving.

"Moreover, the moviegoer also has control over the intensity of that action, via a control knob that can reduce the movement, or, if it all becomes too much, shut it off."