Help me, Death Bear, help, help me, Death Bear
Help me, Death Bear, yeah . . . get her outta my heart.

A man in the second-floor unit of a nearby apartment building in the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn was desperate to get rid of something that was too torturous to keep but impossible to discard.
The anguished individual had turned to Death Bear, a macabre performance artist who silently walks the city streets in a one-man quest to relieve people of painful remnants of the past: love letters, photos, gifts, dog tags, underwear -- a lot of underwear, it seems -- anything that might reduce an otherwise well-functioning person to a sniffling wreck.
His service has spread through word of mouth and the Internet.
"Help me, Death Bear!" read a typical plea that flickered via text message onto his cellphone.
No indication that Death Bear has had to deal with this, yet.





March 31st, 2010 - 10:19
Death Bear or Darth Bear?
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March 31st, 2010 - 10:40
More proof of the neurotic nature of New Yorkers…
As if Woody Allen hadn’t already immortalized it enough.
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March 31st, 2010 - 11:05
Allah had death bear on Hot Air last week.
Which just reinforces Bob’s comment above!
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March 31st, 2010 - 11:06
What? Have they outlawed trash bags in New York? And the Salvation Army/Goodwill/Thrift stores? Just throw it away, or give it back.
Good Grief!
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March 31st, 2010 - 18:20
…a macabre performance artist who silently walks the city streets in a one-man quest to relieve people of painful remnants of the past
Help me, help me, oh Death Bear, I got this Health Care Law I need to get rid of so I can move on [last week is considered the past, right?]!
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