This post by The Man Repeller about Phillip Seymour Hoffman’s untimely death. It’s strange when someone uses the word “untimely” to describe death (see previous sentence), because it implies that there are timely deaths, that death can be scheduled like an appointment. “Yes, I can fit you in at 4:30, right after cribbage and afternoon tea with Lionel.” I don’t know why I’m suddenly WASPy in my pre-death schedule, but it being my final hour I think anything is possible. Ok, sufficiently made awkward death joke/unjoke. Move along now.
Edit: as you can probably tell, (by the title, if nothing else) this was an unfinished post. I have no idea how french fries were going to be woven into it, but I can only imagine it would have been both artful and heartfelt. Let’s have a moment of silence for this lost genius. Also for Mr. Hoffman. Silence all around.