And here I really thought this guy would live a long and fruitful life, eventually passing on to his grandchildren the secrets of ejaculate art. Oh Dash, Death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath, hath had no power yet upon thy beauty
The problem with addiction is that you don't exactly "choose" to pursue it. I mean, you do have to make a serious, committed choice to breaking out of it. And not making that choice is a choice in itself.
But it's bigger than choice, too. It's like having too much weight on the bench press, and the bar is coming down on your chest, and someone says, "No! Just choose to lift it off!" At a certain point, it's no longer an option; you do need help. And we don't have any kind of idea what kind of help dude was getting. We don't know if he had some awesome people doing what they could but one jackass who kept hooking him up. We don't know. Yeah, it's grossly irresponsible to bring a kid into the world and then not to do everything you can to stay alive for that kid, but the bitch of addiction is that you know that and it's that kind of pressure that just makes you use harder.
I'm not trying to let the guy off the hook. I'm just saying that if addiction were an easy problem to solve, it wouldn't be the giant issue it is. And that the "what a dumbass" attitude isn't really helpful to anyone and probably isn't worth perpetuating. I mean, if someone's that worked up about the poor left-behind kid, consider that there's a good chance they'll still be here for said kid to read someday. That's what I'd want to see: a bunch of people who didn't know his story calling my dad a dumbass within minutes of learning he had died.
Actually, it kind of is. Heroin is so often the drug of choice for Park Avenue kids. It's like they're trying to do the worst thing they can imagine to freak their parents out.