I didn’t exactly feel sad about the legendary comedian’s death. I didn’t wrinkle my brow with gutting indignation about the senselessness of suicide, say, as I’d done when I’d learned of Williams’ death, our melancholy clown, taking his own life. With Rivers, I winced a little at the details. I grimaced at how absurd her ending was, this abrupt silencing of a woman who made her name…
