David CookIt’s been 10 days since Philip Seymour Hoffman, possibly our era’s finest actor, was found dead and alone in his apartment, a needle in his arm.
Before Hoffman, there was Cory Monteith. And Heath Ledger. Kurt Cobain. River Phoenix. Elvis.
They are our dead celebrities, the famous ones who die from addiction. We love them with a strange love, and mourn them with a strange grief.
We leave flowers outside the buildings where they died. We dim the lights on Broadway. We visit their graves. We easily forgive their drug use and excesses; after all, it’s Hollywood. After all, they entertained us so.
But in the 10 days since Hoffman died, 1,000 other Americans have also died from drug overdoses.