Naturally, I’m referring to this guy.
Because there’s definitely something off about both men. But there’s also something very on. And I don’t think the people who are referring to Sheen as bi-polar have the credentials to do so. And those who do are not referring to him as such because, well, that would be irresponsible. You don’t watch a 15-minute interview, listen to a few radio interviews and come up with a professional diagnosis. Not in the real world, anyway. Maybe on Lie to Me or some other procedural where they have to squeeze a story into a formula, but not here. This is the Charlie Sheen show. And it probably won’t last for long.
There’s a total lack of responsibility in his hilarious, poetic, defiant words. And his energy is extremely unreceptive to outside observation. It’s entertaining because it’s troubling—and that’s what we human beings do with things that scare us: we ridicule them, if we can. Call it God, call it Sarah Palin, call it the embattled leader of Libya—we’ll make a joke of it because there is power in laughter. Laughter can disguise denial, pain, fear.
But Sheen is troubling, nonetheless. His statements are wiping away fantasies, challenging paradigms and strafing the status quo with full metal spitzers from a jet going under the radar in a no-fly zone. He’s the Red Baron of this shit right now. It’s important to note that Sheen was well-known as drug and alcohol abuser who’s had documented episodes of violence against women. He also liked the company of porn stars—women whose time and presence he purchased as one would a hooker. Which all seemed to be fine and good with his corporate backers—until he started referring his show’s creator by his Hebrew name and giving inside baseball interviews outside of the locker room. Then, and only then, did Sheen become a real liability. Before that, his conduct was bitchin’ and his condition was perfect.
He’s making his legend as he goes along, each statement adding to his own greatness and solidifying the madness that was said—it’s like a rapper bragging so well about how good his rapping is to the point where the bragging itself becomes the proof in the eating of the pudding. Charlie Sheen is awesome because he keeps coming up with awesome ways of saying how awesome he is while telling his multibillion-dollar checkwriters that’s he’ll give them one piss test for free—but the next one goes in yo’ mouth. The fact that he hasn’t been sniped down or blackballed into silence or wound up like Marilyn Monroe means that he’s winning. Every moment he breathes air and can exclaim that he’s winning is evidence that he’s winning. Each time he claims that he’s a warlock proves that he indeed does have something greater protecting him. This is a guy who’s told one network to lick his feet, promised an exclusive interview to another—a promise that he reneged on in order to give that network’s competitor an interview as well. The only reason Fox hasn’t jumped to get some of Sheen’s sheen is because Charlie is a serious lefty who hangs out with Alex Jones (who may or many not be a counter-intellgence agent as far as I’m concerned). Sheen’s got Twitter, Facebook, the whole internet and traditional TV going nuts. (Meanwhile, Gaddafi/Kadafi/Qaddafi/Gadhafi’s material is not nearly as entertaining.)
Unfortunately, Sheen’s stance of give, give, give and no take isn’t sustainable for an extended period of time. He’s pre-emptively defensive to the point where his protective maneuvers seem like offensive strikes; he moves like a man who knows he’s wrong, but figures that if he can possibly convince the world that he’s right, his opponents will cave in and he will be rhyming with winning. He’s not being receptive to any information except what comes from his 10,000 year-old brain. Those who cannot get him are retards who can’t think outside the box. Those who have come before him and failed are fools, trolls, weak, defeated. Which may all be true, but this universe—forever expanding, ever changing, never static— is not a closed system. And if Sheen continues to pinch himself off from it if he won’t continue to exist in it. Science won’t allow, neither will physics. When and how the end will come is way beyond my ken, but I do know that he can’t keep at this rate in that direction for long. Because nature abhors a vacuum, he cannot become one and remain. And, because nature abhors a vacuum, his truths, now created, must continue.
That’s good because his truths are fascinating, compelling, entertaining—it’s like the best of Kenny Powers, minus the dancing and clumsy, reluctant introspection. It could be because he’s far from having run through the $1.2 million (about $2 million with “backend”) per episode that he was getting from CBS. His position is the logical and radical end to the monsters that Hollywood has created for decades. He’s not the first and he won’t be the last. But, usually, we have to deal with caricatures or premium cable facsimiles or self parodies of these gods amongst men. Yet here is Charlie, coming as a real life wild man at this time in this space where we can exclusively watch him watching his “exclusive” interview as the results of his drug tests are revealed by RadarOnline.com, an entity that treats Tila Tequila with the gravity of world dignitary. And, for most of us, it may be our first time seeing someone snort a lit cigarette. That’s some tiger blood, Adonis DNA level shit right there.
In this world, at this time, Charlie Sheen is not just a high priest Vatican assassin warlock, he is a gladiator. He’s the god of our arena, no homo. These are good times. Too bad they can’t last.