My worst fears have come to pass … allegedly.

Word came out this morning that the Oscar-winning actor Philip Seymour Hoffman had been found dead in his apartment. I hate admitting this, but my very first thought — once my head cleared after seeing the news — was that he overdosed on something.

I returned this afternoon from running some errands with my wife and just learned that police and EMTs found him with a needle sticking out of his arm.

http://www.cnn.com/2014/02/02/showbiz/philip-seymour-hoffman-obit/index.html?hpt=hp_t1

My initial mourning over the loss of this amazing talent has now given way to disgust.

What a waste!

It’s hard for me to process news like this at times. Hoffman joins a long list of celebrated public figures — mainly athletes and entertainers (although one could argue they are the same thing) — who’ve taken one hit too many.

I won’t even begin to list the names of those who have wasted themselves into oblivion. We all know who they are.

Hoffman’s death at the age of 46 just underscores the perversion that popular culture too often seems to breed.

All these individuals who have so much going for them cannot handle the fame that they chose to seek.

Yes, I mourn for the people who loved this man. That’s where it ends.