The word “like” on Facebook has
become to The Humans what the word “smurf” is to The Smurfs.

On seeing how many people have “liked” the apparent suicide of the actor who played Jett Jackson on Facebook tonight. I don’t think they mean to use the word “like”.

The word “like” on Facebook has
become to The Humans what the word “smurf” is to The Smurfs.

On seeing how many people have “liked” the apparent suicide of the actor who played Jett Jackson on Facebook tonight. I don’t think they mean to use the word “like”.

Martin Manley Life and Death – Home


Martin Manley has been planning his death for a year.

Now he is dead he releases this website for public consumption:

Today is August 15, 2013. Today is my 60th birthday. Today is the last day of my life. Today, I committed suicide. Today, is the first day this site is active, but it will be here for years to come. Release of rights.

Before I get into the nuts and bolts of this site, I first must say to those whom I have a special bond with, please don’t think that I didn’t consider your feelings. I’m sorry… very sorry for the hurt and pain I will have caused by my actions. In all probability, I won’t be able to justify it to you – at least not today. Maybe someday you will come to understand… better. If not today, maybe someday you will be able to read what I’ve said and learn why. Maybe someday you will be able to forgive me. I love you!

This site is divided into two major categories. The first is the suicide. The second is my life. To the left side of this page, you will see categories. Under some of them are subcategories. You can click and read anything you want. My life is an open book now that I’ve closed the book on my life.

Martin Manley Life and Death – Home

Martin Manley Life and Death – Home


Martin Manley has been planning his death for a year.

Now he is dead he releases this website for public consumption:

Today is August 15, 2013. Today is my 60th birthday. Today is the last day of my life. Today, I committed suicide. Today, is the first day this site is active, but it will be here for years to come. Release of rights.

Before I get into the nuts and bolts of this site, I first must say to those whom I have a special bond with, please don’t think that I didn’t consider your feelings. I’m sorry… very sorry for the hurt and pain I will have caused by my actions. In all probability, I won’t be able to justify it to you – at least not today. Maybe someday you will come to understand… better. If not today, maybe someday you will be able to read what I’ve said and learn why. Maybe someday you will be able to forgive me. I love you!

This site is divided into two major categories. The first is the suicide. The second is my life. To the left side of this page, you will see categories. Under some of them are subcategories. You can click and read anything you want. My life is an open book now that I’ve closed the book on my life.

Martin Manley Life and Death – Home

Suicides Eclipse War Deaths for U.S. Troops


It would seem to be a problem that the armed forces of the United States of America are doing a better job at killing themselves than are the enemy that they are supposed to be fighting

Suicides Eclipse War Deaths for U.S. Troops

Suicides Eclipse War Deaths for U.S. Troops


It would seem to be a problem that the armed forces of the United States of America are doing a better job at killing themselves than are the enemy that they are supposed to be fighting

Suicides Eclipse War Deaths for U.S. Troops

I write like David Foster Wallace


because an algorithm told me so. I cannot tell you how sad this makes me. It makes me very said. It turns out that I can tell you how sad it makes me. Although I do love David Foster Wallace being told by an algorithm that I write like him leaves me cold and empty inside.

I write like David Foster Wallace

I write like David Foster Wallace


because an algorithm told me so. I cannot tell you how sad this makes me. It makes me very said. It turns out that I can tell you how sad it makes me. Although I do love David Foster Wallace being told by an algorithm that I write like him leaves me cold and empty inside.

I write like David Foster Wallace

Subterranean Thoughts


Prodding dreamily at the space under

My chin. The space where the shotgun would fit

Snugly in. Thoughts that vaguely meander

As I rest under this gnarled tree’s bough. It

Seems that it would be no trouble at all

If I was to fall from this place and rest-

Lessly crawl on through. I just need to call

On that one moment’s decision; a guest

In no time of neck-snapping Death who yet,

As my host, ushers me beyond.

What remains; a whip lashed marionette,

Shattered and twitching, that will not respond.