The awful, unforgiving summer of death we just got out of seems to have extended to fall, with the untimely passing of Patrick Swayze yesterday. I don't really know what to say about it other than it's terrible and sad, and shocking because he seemed to be doing slightly better recently. Throughout his career he always seemed like a decent, genuinely nice guy who just made fun movies everybody loved with really, not too many demons, considering his crazy success there for a while (he had trouble with alcohol, but it's not like he was constant DUI guy, or ever went all Mel Gibson on somebody). The entertainment world has lost a great talent, and I suggest we put all our lovable celebrities somewhere safe, on 24 hour surveillance until further notice.

At the risk of sacrificing any shred of credibility I have left after constantly writing about ABC Family shows, I must admit that I was not even alive when the majority of John Hughes's films came out. But before you start counting back on your fingers in horror, allow me to say that, despite my untimely year of birth, my childhood (and perhaps current life) was filled with longing to be a member of the Brat Pack. Why? Because John Hughes left behind a legacy of teen comedies that even 12-year-olds with cell phones can appreciate. (Sidenote: I didn't have a cell phone until I was 16). Here are five reasons why these movies will stand the test of time:

We were delighted to see that Hulu had a nice variety of John Hughes movie clips posted, so we thought we'd share some with you, today, in this time of mourning. Safe for work, unless you work somewhere where they have no souls. ...Or get uncomfortable when Judd Nelson describes teen sex in intimate detail. Or have a strict anti-Anthony Michael Hall policy. (There's a lot of AMH in these clips.)

The world lost a great filmmaker this week, as legendary screenwriter and director John Hughes passed away. Not only did the man write and direct many of the 1980s' greatest, funniest films -- Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller's Day Off -- he wrote the screenplays for dozens more, including Pretty in Pink, Home Alone and the first three Vacation movies. We went through his body of work to pull out some of the funniest lines that we still quote to this day.

David Carradine is dead, and I feel guilty. I had nothing to do with it, of course; it happened in Thailand, and I'm in New York, as far as you or the authorities know. But I feel guilty nonetheless. Why? Because I have not seen nearly enough David Carradine movies. In fact, I have seen very few. How few? Three. And two of those are Kill Bill.

Comedian Dom DeLuise died on Monday, and the listing of the movie roles has begun. Most obituaries will mention his long partnership with Mel Brooks: as a lead bumbler in Silent Movie, the megaphone-toting director cameo in Blazing Saddles, the gluttonous Emperor in History of the World Part 1. More will play up his long friendship with Burt Reynolds: Cannonball Run 1 & 2, Smokey & the Bandit 2, All Dogs Go to Heaven -- you know, the greats. But I will bet you dollars to donuts (a bet DeLuise made often, and lost) that few, if any, will mention Haunted Honeymoon. Probably because it seems to turn up on a couple of "worst movies of all time" lists, but it's the one I know him best from, and it's one of my favorite films of all time. Despite a brilliant performance by DeLuise and a slew of genuinely funny moments from him, Gene Wilder and Gilda Radner, it doesn't seem to get much respect. My ringing endorsement isn't going to change that, but here goes nothing.

Ricardo Montalban, an actor well known for his work on screens both large and small, passed away Wednesday at his home in Los Angeles. He was 88 years old. To me, there are three Ricardo Montalbans. There's the white-suited Mr. Rourke, who had the most righteous wish-granting powers this side of Aladdin's lamp on Fantasy Island; there's the voice from the Chrysler commercials that could get even my dedicated Ford-driving great aunt to buy a Chrysler because that rich Corinthian leather just sounded sexy, and, probably closest to my heart, there was Khan. Pectoral-tacular, Captain Kirk-infuriating, best Star Trek villain ever, Khan. (And if you are a Trekkie who disagrees, just try yelling "Booooooooooooorg!" It doesn't feel quite right, does it?)

Majel Barrett, widow of Star Trek creator Gene Roddenberry, died yesterday of leukemia in her Bel Air, California home. She was 76. She had the distinction of acting in every incarnation of the iconic science fiction franchise. She started out in the Trek universe as Captain Pike's second-in-command in the first pilot for the original series. She would go on to play Christine Chapel, a nurse in the series and later a doctor in the first and fourth Trek movies.

Bettie Page, the pin-up model who helped make bangs and bondage famous, died last night at a Los Angeles hospital after suffering a heart attack last week. She was 85.

Michael Crichton, creator of ER and The Andromeda Strain, died yesterday. The 66-year-old multi-hyphenate's career spanned four decades and spawned numerous books and movies with which you are no doubt familiar. His books-turned-movies took us to Jurassic Park and The Lost World, made Demi Moore sexually harass Michael Douglas in Disclosure, put Sharon Stone and Samuel L. Jackson in a Sphere and sent James Bond and Passenger 57 to the land of Rising Sun. His loss is a sad occasion for this writer-slash-science major who loved the way he mixed the two disciplines in his work. His books were so cinematic that they seemed ready to film straight from the bookstore. Here are a few examples of Crichton's lesser-known work onscreen.