Ozzy Osbourne, Black Sabbath frontman and icon of British heavy metal, dies aged 76

I woke up with a bad feeling. I knew exactly one thing. And it reminded me of December 26th 2015. Remember the year of death that was 2016? Celebrities were dropping like flies and our entire childhoods' were going into graveyards?

That started December 2015, the day after Christmas. That was the day that Lemmy of Motorhead died. His death ripped a hole in the universe. Two weeks later David Bowie died. And after that famous people kept dying for a year. Reality TV star Donald Trump would be elected into office by people that kept saying celebrities had no role in politics. 2016 was the first year of the world we know today. And trying to describe the world before 2015 to someone who never witnessed life before that would become difficult.

I loved Black Sabbath. I didn't care for Ozzy Osbourne. I didn't care for a Black Sabbath without Ozzy. It was that combination of the two that I liked. I used to tell people this and they would shrug and then I would tell people this after the Osbornes show came out and people would react the same way as when I told them I didn't like cake. It meant I wasn't human. Who can trust somebody who doesn't like cake or like Ozzy Osbourne?

But I had to be honest with myself and them. I didn't like Ozzy Osbourne and no amount of crazy antics was going to solve that.

But this morning I woke up knowing exactly one thing. Ozzy Osbourne was dead. He can't create chaos with his death like Lemmy did because the chaos is already here. But maybe he can fix it. Maybe Ozzy's death well mend the hole in reality. This agent of chaos, with his passing, might be able to restore sanity. A sacrifice. For Satan. Who so loved the world he gave his only avatar so that everyone, believer or not, could have peace everlasting. We should know in two weeks if he is the herald of a brighter new future.