The only good actor is a dead actor

I wanted to open this with 'I hate fucking actors.' Because it's all about me. But I won't. I'll save it for a little later. So here comes the real opening line:

Tom Murphy is dead.

I hate fucking actors. I may have said that before. If I haven't, it's an omission. They're insecure and loud, or insecure and belligerent, or insecure and insane. Or most commonly, all fucking three. They fuck me off, they really do. But there were always one or two exceptions and now I'm down to one or one.

Though I was in two radio plays with Murphy, we knew each to other to say hello to from auditions and shit more than anything. He seemed to be a quiet, unassuming guy. He's dead now. Hodgkin's disease. So maybe you're thinking all this shit I'm going to tell you about him is just me being nice because he's dead. You can shut the fuck up and keep your opinion to yourself if that's what you're thinking because it ain't so.

This dude had it. On stage anyway. If you know him at all, you'll know him as the short one in 'Adam and Paul', and if that's all you know then you don't know shit. If you're a culturally elitist Yank then you might possibly be aware of him because he won a Tony. But he had it nonetheless. He had truth. Big truth, big fat fucking truth.

I saw him first in Andrew's Lane Studio in 'True Lines', a devised piece produced by Bickerstaffe. Charlize Theron's boyfriend was in it too. I only know this because I googled the play to find out who the producer was. I have no memory of Townsend or either of the chicks or even much of the play. What I remember is Murphy's psycho truck driver who just fucking sat there and freaked out very cunt in the audience. Presence like I'd only previously witnessed in Donal McCann. And now the fucker is dead. They're both fucking dead. But mostly Tom Murphy is dead.

One of the radio plays was 'Red Roses and Petrol'. He played the part that I wanted. The twisted, father despising misanthrope. But truthfully folks, he fucking killed so hard that I was glad I didn't have it because that way I got to see him do it. And that is one stunning admission for an actor with my range of bitterness and capacity for schadenfreude. He could speak it too, the bastard. The bastard spake truth. And now he's dead.

And you know, folks, he wasn't a cunt, neither. I never saw or heard of him having one of those common actor's tantrums, he never made a mealy-mouthed sideways word about anyone else in my presence. He seemed like a sweet, modest guy. Not like a fucking actor at all.

And now he's dead. What a stupid fucking waste.