What to do AFTER Philip Seymour Hoffman DIES

After the shock of hearing about an actor dying, you've got to do something.

Don't you? Even if you didn't know the guy, and only saw a few of his films? You can't just stay indoors and wring your hands. Or ring up a pizza delivery and watch "Doubt." No doubt about it. Like Christmas and New Year's, the media covers the events and pretty much says, "YOU have to be involved, too." Go buy Christmas gifts, go stand with a million assholes in Times Square to watch the ball drop on New Year's Eve. And look everyone, the actor Phillip Seymour Hoffman died. We'll tell you when the private funeral is so you can stand on the sidewalk and celebrity-watch, and we'll tell you about the "vigil" outside his building where YOU can stand with a Dixie Cup and a candle...

Having fun yet?

Have you noticed, that a public show of flowers and candles is now a knee jerk reaction any time somebody dies? Is it that we've gotten so sensitive...or so wimpy...or that we've got to share in the "grief process" because it's fun?

Some schmuck gets knocked off his bicycle, some brat who is part of a family of twelve wanders away and ends up in a sewer, or an overweight character actor OD's on drugs...and instantly there's the famous "makeshift memorial" at the scene of the crime or in front of the person's apartment, with pictures, stuffed animals, balloons and candles. Gotta join in, ya know.

Often there's a TV report, LIVE, showing a solemn march as people declare that this is a "tragedy" that "should never have happened."

If there's a few inches of snow falling, they'll tell you "Stay inside, don't go out, don't try and use your car." But somebody croaks? Come join the "vigil." Come place some flowers. You've GOT to DO something. PS, it's fun!

Care to march BEFORE a tragedy happens? Like go stand in front of the fucking Syrian embassy? Or 10 Downing Street? Or City Hall? Nah, that's carrying a placard too far.

God is watching, believe me, and he's really impressed with your Dixie Cup and candle. Hold 'em a little higher, there are some clouds in the way, and heaven is a long way from Earth.

Meanwhile, if you're a leading suspect....

a crummy drug dealer acknowledged by everyone as a lowlife...

you can't go anywhere except to court. But when you're in court...put on your CREEPIEST FACE...

Yeah, that's Vineberg, the guy who once put out a jazz album under the name Robert Aaron, and once had dark hair.

If you're one of the OTHER suspects who lived in that shitty building and were caught in possession of drugs...well, there's plenty of proof of how obnoxious and creepy YOU are...

If you're some snotty cunt who is mad at Daddy and decides to shack up with another privileged snot, an obnoxious dickhead whose Daddy is part of a big law firm...then you KNOW you can beat the rap. So just wait for the bail bondsman and then snicker or stare or give the finger or just ignore everyone because they should RESPECT YOUR PRIVACY.

Now, as for the bereaved...expect the pap smears...the paparazzi...to do their job and besiege the ex-girlfriend and stake out her apartment and hope for some bonus action as celebrities show up, such as Cate Blanchett and Joaquin Phoenix, or...hey, we all wondered if Philip Seymour Hoffman's mother was as fat as he was...

Hiya, Lady...you're not famous, but your son was, so don't mind being surrounded by pap smears pointing their cameras at you.

"Tell me every detail, for I've got to know it all, And do you have a picture of the pain?" PHIL OCHS, "Crucifixion."