Even with a detachable raven...still not as bad as a kick in the head!

On October 3, 1849, Edgar Allen Poe was found on the streets of Baltimore, delirious, in great distress, and in need of immediate assistance. He was taken to the Washington College Hospital, where he died early on the morning of October 7. The precise cause of Poe's death is disputed. Dr. J. E. Snodgrass, an acquaintance of Poe who was among those who saw him in his last days, was convinced that Poe died as a result of alcoholism and did a great deal to popularize this interpretation of the events.

Well into the early 21st century opportunists and satirists continue to exploit Poe's life and death. While some opportunists sell his likeness in the form of stuffed dolls manufactured by underpaid Chinese laborers, it is the satirists who truly debase this early American practitioner of the short story, making light of the very alcoholism that contributed to his tragic death through the brewing and personal consumption of Poekicker's Pale Ale:

Poe understood this human pathology quite well when he remarked:
"To vilify a great man is the readiest way in which a little man can himself attain greatness."
[Surely The Hubbub is nothing more than a collection of little men.]