Philip

One of the greatest actors of our generation died today. I don’t have a whole lot to say. I mourn the loss of his life, I think of his kids and wife, I think of all the artists he will not nurture, I think of all the plays he will not direct, I think of all the films he will not make.

Though Philip died of addiction and my friend of a brain tumor, I have to admit this reminds me of Jeremy Tow, who died near this age, way too young, and one of the most talented people I know. I mourn the man and I mourn the art. The world is less without them.

What was so horrible about life that such a dangerous fickle high was required?

How can a drug be so strong as to take down such a star in our sky?

I don’t know. And nobody knows. Probably not even his wife and kids know. Probably even he didn’t know.

Philip Seymour Hoffman, end of scene. Please come out of your dressing room. Please tell us this was just another character. It’s not that I ever dreamed you’d discover me. I mean, why should you? You had Stephen Adly Guirgis. No. I simply loved you selflessly. I loved you because you were so humble and meticulous and intelligent. The greatest character actor of our age. I loved you for being messy and chubby and eyebrow-less and meek and powerful and handsome and shoddy and sleek. I loved you for being a business man and a family man. For being a film man and a stage man. For being unique.

Fuck you, heroine.