|PHILIP SEYMOUR HOFFMAN, 46|
Hollywood has been rocked by the shocking news that it has lost one of its greatest. Philip Seymour Hoffman was found dead in his Manhattan apartment Sunday morning of an apparent heroin overdose, thereby pretty much eclipsing the Super Bowl as the story of the day. (What is it with geniuses and mind-blowing killer drugs? Why can't they simply sauce themselves into sodden, babbling oblivion like, er, some people do on a regular basis?) The loss of this magnificent actor will be felt acutely, there is almost no one who can fill his heavyweight shoes, no one who possesses that heartrending blend of tenderness, gruffness and gravitas, as anyone who saw him in anything, anything at all, from The Ides of March to Charlie Wilson's War to Capote, could tell you. A tragedy such as this is beyond words. So I leave you with this visual snippet (below) of Hoffman's greatness to remember him by. If that scene doesn't give you goosebumps, you are not human.
EDITOR'S NOTE: I hope Rob Ford is reading this because this could be his fate someday.
MY NOTE: Well first he'd have to achieve greatness and then take up heroin, but once that happens, then yes. Sure. Could happen to Rob.