If you grew up reading MAD magazine, you have a sense of Nick Meglin, who edited MAD for a long time.

He died a couple of days ago, a week after I saw him last. He wasn’t the kind of guy who would graciously accept glowing words of praise. He was clever and sarcastic and sharp, and I’m dearly, deeply, genuinely grateful to have known him for the last twelve or so years, though I can’t imagine saying that to his face or what his hilarious, dismissive reply would have been.

The best way I’ve thought to express it is that, in the moments when we had his attention, he made us each feel we were kings, that we had such a fine court jester to mock us so perfectly.

And the world is diminished without him.