Sinead O’Connor is dead. I’d be lying if I said she was particularly important to me, individually. A lot of people are saying that, and they will continue to do so. She deserves to be grieved. As a little, stupid, gay boy, I remember when she ripped up the picture of the Pope. I didn’t really understand why that was such a big deal to so many people (why would I give a shit about the Pope?), but I remember knowing it was. I remember noticing that someone said something and did something and mattered, even when the world said she didn’t.