Friday Buzzkills: Let 'Er RIP Edition

Normally we like a little more variety here at Friday Buzzkills–you know, like one of those Hickory Farms samplers, only filled with blood sausage and rancid cheese. Unfortunately, while layoffs were rising and newspapers were folding and governors were doing stupid back-door politics shit and the rest of the world was generally still whimpering its way to the end of one of the most depressing years in recent memory, our celebrities somehow failed to follow suit: Next to nothing happened this week. Perhaps everybody was too busy combing through the various critics' nominations looking for their names, or compiling their completely arbitrary yet oddly infuriating "best of the year" list–or maybe it's just too cold to go out and embarrass yourself–but for whatever reason, there was very little schandenfreude-y or even genuinely sad news to report on the entertainment front, which leaves us with nothing to talk about. Oh, except for the fact that pretty much every day somebody dropped dead, and we don't just mean Jennifer Aniston's dignity. We've already paid homage to pin-up queen Bettie Page elsewhere, but that's really only the tasseled tip of the iceberg. There was more, much more reaping to be done–so much of it that we had to give our entire column over to cataloging it all. If RIPs aren't your thing (which is totally understandable… assholes), then we'll see you back here next week for the final Friday Buzzkills of the year. Everyone else, saddle up: It's respect-payin' time.
– Last time we briefly touched on the tragic case of actor Mark Ruffalo's brother Scott, by all accounts a humble hairstylist beloved by his community and genuinely an all-around nice guy–which made reports that he had been shot in the back of the head all the more troubling. Sadly, Scott Ruffalo died this week at the age of 39 after clinging to life for several days, leaving behind numerous questions as to who would have wanted him dead and why. Enter 26-year-old suspect Shaha Mishaal Adham, the "Saudi princess" who was in Ruffalo's apartment at the time of his death. Adham told police that Ruffalo had accidentally killed himself while playing a game of Russian roulette–which sounds nice and pat and all save for, you know, the fact that Ruffalo was shot in the back of the head.
Nevertheless, police released Adham after she spent 36 hours "suffering" in jail, leaving her free to walk the streets of L.A. and talk to the cameras of TMZ. The gossip site caught up with her and boyfriend Brian Scofield (who claims repeatedly to have been "vilified," despite the fact that this is the first time anybody's ever heard from him), and allowed her to give her side of the story: In short, "There's something called 'the Darwin Theory,' where everything that could go wrong went wrong" (Really? Was that what On The Origin Of Species was about?), there was a mystery "third person in the room" with them, and "the truth is on my side." Unfortunately, before she could go into any further details, Scofield yanked her away, leaving us to ponder not only this ever-deepening murder mystery, but also a culture where the main suspect in a seedy Hollywood scandal is served up to TMZ commenters like this guy:
hmmm…can't decide if killa' is good looking or not?? her mugshot made her out as a skank, but this video….I am not so sure….??thoughts??
Thoughts? How about the fact that sometimes reading the Internet is like spending every fucking day trapped in eighth-grade gym?
– As an addendum, it's certainly been a bad week to be the sibling of a famous person: Macaulay Culkin's 29-year-old sister Dakota was struck and killed by a car this Tuesday and died of massive head trauma. Her death was ruled an accident and the driver cleared of charges, which means the only culpable parties in this sad turn of events is Los Angeles TV station KCBS 2 who, as Defamer reported, chose two wholly inappropriate photos to go with the story. (And no, it's not the one you're thinking of.)
– Bettie Page was not the only sex symbol to die today: 1940s heartthrob Van Johnson–known as the "non-singing Sinatra" for the way he made bobbysoxers weak in the knees–also passed away at the age of 92. Johnson was a wholesome, boy-next-door type who often played the all-American love interest for ladies like Esther Williams and Elizabeth Taylor and starred in films such as 30 Seconds Over Tokyo, A Guy Named Joe, and The Caine Mutiny. Although his star faded rather quickly in the 1950s and '60s, Johnson returned to the stage, becoming one of the biggest and busiest names on the regional and dinner theater circuit by playing to, in his own words, "the white-haired ladies who come to matinees." Still, he never let his slide from Hollywood royalty get him down–perhaps not least because he was able to sell his paintings for as high as $10,000 a pop, opening the door for hundreds of celebrities to peddle their own "art" for decades to come.