This has been a very dark week. First, we lost David Bowie. Now, Alan Rickman. I'm not even sure what to say tonight.

When my one officemate announced that Rickman had died, I immediately hit the Internet because there was a part of me that didn't believe him, wouldn't accept it. Not another one. Not so soon.

I hear the clickity click of typing from our third officemate who said, "Oh, hey. It's the guy who played Snape in Harry Potter." So while I was trying to shelter behind denial, he was trying to figure out just who the fuck Rickman was. Boor.

Like Bowie, Rickman spent a lot of time in our living room. From ROBIN HOOD (which we watched for him) to DIE HARD to DOGMA. From SENSE AND SENSIBILITY to SWEENEY TODD. The sis and I just watched SWEENEY TODD--I'd seen it before, she hadn't--over the holidays. The Rickman/Depp "Pretty Women" duet from the film is on my MP3 player. Oh, yeah. And he was in that little film series. The one based on the books about a schoolboy with a talent for magic. You know the one.

Rickman's voice was magic, his performances were magic. He was magic.

And now that magic is gone.




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