"Now That We Found Love"
Rap legend Heavy D -- one of the most influential rappers of the '90s -- died earlier today ... TMZ has learned.
Heavy D -- real name Dwight Arrington Myers -- was rushed to an L.A. hospital around noon today ... and was pronounced dead at the hospital at 1 PM. He was 44 years old.
We've learned a 911 call was placed from Heavy's Beverly Hills home around 11:25 AM to report an unconscious male on the walkway .
When help arrived, we're told Heavy D was conscious and speaking -- and was transported to a nearby hospital. He died a short time later.
Cops are investigating the death -- and so far, there are no obvious signs of foul play. Police are currently at the home.
Terrible news. Rest in Peace, D.
Go ahead and file this post under Self-Indulgent and Self-Absorbed...bear with me for just a second, though, please?
It was early 2007 when I began to drown in Amy Winehouse. Her voice, her achingly sad and ironic lyrics, her look, everything. Hook. Eyeliner. Sinker.
Emotionally and ultimately physically, I was in a black hole, which probably drew me into Amy's web even more. Someone understood and put it all into words. It felt warm and safe when I was surrounded by Amy's smoky voice. It wasn't safe, though. Amy was a modern-day, Billie Holiday in my eyes and I wanted to be smothered in the gardenia-scented heaviness of her pain so it could mingle with my own.
I make no secret of my struggles with depression, anorexia and addiction. This dark thunder cloud in my soul was manifested by the childhood sexual abuse I suffered, thus making chunks of my life nearly unbearable. I held it together the best I could, but then...I just couldn't anymore. Had it not been for some eye-opening therapy and the profound love from and for my husband, I don't know...I just don't know what would have happened.
Sadly, I personally know the pain of a mother seeing her own child struggle with addiction. The fear, anger, dread, and stomach-dropping emotional roller-coaster of raw nerves can't even begin to describe the waking-nightmare of the rage and despair that took up residency in my heart.
The point in all of my school-girl rambling here is that this young woman needed help. LOTS of help. Winning five Grammy Awards before you're 25? Accepting the awards via satellite because you're still in REHAB? I can't even imagine. This isn't so-called Good Girl, Taylor Swift we're talking about. (Oh, and tick -tock on that one.) Ugh. Oh, and lest we forget, Natalie Cole--who had quite a struggle with substance abuse in her own right--thought it would be awesome to criticize Amy's 2008 Grammy wins:
"I don't think she should have won. I think it sends a bad message to our young people who are trying to get into this business, the ones who are trying to do it right and really trying to keep themselves together," said Cole, 58. "We have to stop rewarding bad behavior.
Cole says: "I'm sorry. I think the girl is talented, gifted, but it's not right for her to be able to have her cake and eat it too. She needs to get herself together."
Happy and smug now, Miss Cole? I smelled your rotten, sour grapes back when you made that statement and the stench is still resonating from the compost pile.
I've read some really disturbing remarks regarding Amy's death. Yes, we can all pretty much assume she died of some sort of substance overdose. Her troubles with alcohol and drug addiction is fairly well documented in this age of the internet, unlike when Kurt Cobain also died (by his own hand) at the age of 27. The cruelty of some of the statements, (i.e. "She deserved to die!") are simply merciless and vulgar. If figures, too, that there is a tinge of sexism in the media, even in death. Whatever. Amy surrounded herself with some sketchy people, hangers-on...and her own demons, which turned into a deadly combination when mixed with fame, money and a proclivity to severe addiction.
"When you love someone who suffers from the disease of addiction you await the phone call. There will be a phone call. The sincere hope is that the call will be from the addict themselves, telling you they’ve had enough, that they’re ready to stop, ready to try something new. Of course though, you fear the other call, the sad nocturnal chime from a friend or relative telling you it’s too late, she’s gone."
I suggest you read all of Russell's Letter to Amy.
Rest in Peace sounds so trite...but I hope Amy is indeed at peace.
Poor Lily. After her tragic miscarriage earlier this week--she was six months pregnant--Lily is now in the hospital being treated for a sometimes fatal blood infection called septicemia.
[Google: Septicemia is a serious, life-threatening infection that gets worse very quickly. It can arise from infections throughout the body, including infections in the lungs, abdomen, and urinary tract. It may come before or at the same time as infections of the bone (osteomyelitis), central nervous system (meningitis), heart (endocarditis), or other tissues.]
via UK Daily Mail:
“She [Lily] is responding well to treatment and her condition continues to improve,” says the singer’s rep.
“Lily thanks everyone for their messages of support and again asks that she and partner, Sam Cooper, be left alone whilst she recovers.”
I'm wishing Lily all the best and a very speedy recovery, and our hearts really go out to Lily and Sam for their loss.
Oh, and HopeXChange is a wonderful website for those who have suffered the heartache and emotional pain of a miscarriage.
Sally Menke, the editor of director Quentin Tarantino's films, died yesterday after hiking in 113 degree weather in Los Angeles. Police discovered her body after a search was issued using bloodhounds and a helicopter. The 57 year old became separated from the friend she was hiking with, who later called authorities when she couldn't locate her friend at the end of the hike Monday evening. Coroner spokesman Lt. Cheryl MacWillie said an autopsy will confirm if she had any preexisting condition that may have led to her death.
Menke started her career editing the movie Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. She met her long-time collaborator after he interviewed editors for his first movie Reservoir Dogs. The two went on to work on his most successful films, including Pulp Fiction, for which she was nominated for an Oscar, and last year's Inglourious Basterds.
One of the on set rituals of Quentin's movies include him and the cast saying "Hi, Sally" before each take.
This must be just crushing for Quentin...Terribly sad.
Written by: Brittani
Oh dear. A sad day. Actor Glenn Shadix has passed away at the age of 58.
Glenn was in several of my favorite films of all-time...Beetlejuice, Heathers and The Nightmare Before Christmas. According to Glenn's sister, "...he was having mobility problems, and he was in a wheelchair," Susan Gagne, Shadix's sister, said. "It looks like he fell and hit his head in the kitchen, and that's the cause of death."
Here's a clip from Heathers with Glenn:
Otho, in Beetlejuice:
The Mayor in The Nightmare Before Christmas:
The Mayor is a character who is widely referred to in my family--as we know many an a-hole like this two-faced stop-motion creature of a man. (Ex. "God, what a butthole. He's just like The Mayor, flippin' his head around, all nice to my face--then I hear THIS crap?")
Glenn Shadix (on left) is an actor made famous by roles in movies such as Beetlejuice, The Nightmare Before Christmas and the 2001 remake of Planet of the Apes. His television work includes the HBO drama Carnivale, and the NBC television comedy Seinfeld, in which he played Jerry’s landlord.
What many people do not know, however, is that Shadix had undergone shock therapy as a teenager in Alabama, in an attempt to turn from gay-to-straight. The “cure” did not work and today Shadix lives as a proud openly gay man. Having lived in New York City and Hollywood, he recently returned to Alabama. Truth Wins Out applauds Shadix for his willingness to share his experience and help other people avoid the pain and suffering of the ex-gay industry."
Rest peacefully, Glenn. You made us all smile.