Public displays of grief are hardly new, but the social-media aspect of mourning can be confusing. Fortunately, I've been keeping an eye on the whole thing for a while now and, as a public service, I'm pleased to offer you this Guide to Mourning on the Internet.
1. Eulogize everyone. In my hometown, Guelph, Ont., a zoning regulation limits the number of garage sales you're allowed to have. You can have a maximum of three per home, per annum. The city does this in order to stop people from just hauling the same tired junk out into the driveway every weekend, merely generating traffic. Do not allow this fun fact to affect your social-media choices for a second; eulogize everyone.
2. Eulogize everyone. The sensible municipal ordinance of a charming Southern Ontario city should have no bearing on your biweekly outpouring of inconsolable grief. Do not, on account of it or anything else, hold back your feelings about the deaths of figures as disparate as the bass player from the band that did that song they played as "last song" at your Grade 8 formal; and the kid who played the kid after the other kid left that TV show, the one that came on right after the one you really liked when you were 9.
3. Eulogize everyone. Let me assure you that the post you are about to make on Facebook is in no way comparable to your stacking all the ice-cube trays that came free with the last three refrigerators you've owned on a card table ("Table NOT for sale!"). Do not concern yourself that your hastily posted feelings will be on display, this Saturday and every weekend until September – like a bunch of warped plastic trays set beside season two of The Wonder Years on elastic-banded VHS.
4. Never speak ill of the dead, they say, (although in many ways it is an optimal judgment time; they can't hear you, and they're unlikely to be improving as people, so at least it's not like you spoke too soon) but, more important, never say nothing at all because, see points 1, 2 and 3. When at a loss, try turning a negative into a positive: "He literally ate my pet cat" can be better expressed as "He loved animals."
Instead of saying "I would get more cats, and he would eat them as well. When I stopped getting pet cats, he had his people mail me cats, which I do not even think is legal. Then he would show up a few weeks later and eat them, too." Try "He had a tenacity that daunted many. He never gave up." Maybe add "I will never forget him."
5. Eulogize everyone. Don't limit your eulogizing to the actually deceased. Gordon Lightfoot is still alive but that shouldn't be, and often isn't, an obstacle to a dedicated Internet eulogizer. Hi, Gordon! I love you.
6. If your post begins "Shocked to hear about the death of ______ _______" and this is sincere because, up until moments ago, you believed ______ _______ had been dead for at least 15 years, post your extreme distress anyway. Research shows that creeping fear in the back of your mind that, if you ever let the death of a famous person go by without comment, you will cease to exist is entirely justified. Evidence suggests that not one of the people to vanish in the Bermuda Triangle since 1960 had publicly marked the death that year of Victor Sjöström. (I'm heartbroken. He was the father of Swedish film. R.I.P.)
Remember, get a regular check-up, eat healthy and eulogize everyone.
7. There may be times you find yourself totally incapable of saying anything kind about the deceased. Possibly because they used the tremendous privilege and great power they had in life, gleefully attempting to deny rights to others just as deserving, or maybe you can't spell "Scalia." Do not panic. When this happens, amuse yourself by sanctimoniously posting about other people's postings. Without naming the R.I.P. du jour (that "Antonin" thing was tricky), post something decrying the loss of civility everyone else's posts indicate. Make it generational, and be ahistoric. Write your post as though people never put heads on pikes or did anything so crass as to hire professional mourners. Set aside the possibility that all this public mourning is just yet another job millennials do for free.
In other words, when in doubt, sub-eulogize everyone.
8. Don't be intimidated by the fact that, up until the death of Shigeru Mizuki, you were so discreet about your passion for Japanese manga that you never mentioned it, ever. Just change your avatar to Medama-oyaji, announce that you have been crying all night and that this is harder for you because you just started reading GeGeGe no Kitaro and get on with it, eulogize everyone.
9. As a fallback position, try the low-bar "He really loved his mother"; or remark that, while others may choose to dwell on his many failings, the deceased never wavered in his belief of something repeatedly proven to be untrue. "He believed the moon was made of green cheese. Consequently, his policies as minister of agriculture were, year in, year out, a bit too spaceship-heavy. His detractors are quick to remark that this put considerable strain on the budget, and caused many problems for actual dairy farmers who remained less visionary, but he stuck to his celestial cheese guns, and I think we can all respect that."
10. Eulogize everyone.