Terrence Howard Took All The Crazy. There’s No More Crazy Left.
Remember yesterday’s Lindsay Lohan is a lunatic post? That was nothing. Forget that even exists, because Terrence Howard sat down with Rolling Stone and either gave the most epic troll interview of all time, or is legitimately insane. You owe it to yourself to read this whole thing, if for no other reason than to feel great about any weird thought you’ve ever had, but just in case, I’m picking out some of my favorite moments for you. And to start things off, like they did in the interview, I’m quoting his father, who stabbed a man to death with a nail file in front of both of their families while they waited in line to see Santa.
On his dad’s advice about self reliance:
“You see that curly motherfucker right there? That little redheaded motherfucker right there? You love him, because the only person that’s gonna be there no matter what happens in your life is that little motherfucker.”
More on his dad, who was apparently the original MRA:
“My daddy taught me, ‘Never take the vertebrae out of your back or the bass out of your throat. I ain’t raisin’ sheep. I raised men. Stay a man.’ But being a man comes with a curse because it’s not a society made for men to flourish anymore. Everything is androgynous, you know? The more successful men now are the effeminate.” Which is another attitude that has gotten him heat. Not that he cares. “The people that judge you don’t matter. They’re not real. Everything is just frequencies.”
On the plastic objects he obsessively takes up to 17 hours a day making, which are based on his own mathematics theories:
The place is filled with his fantastical plastic assemblages. They bear a similarity to building blocks but the shapes are infinitely more complex, in two dimensions and three, tied together by copper wire or held in place by magnets. There are hemispheres, cubes, tetrahedrons and flighty wings. Some of the objects are as small as mice, others as big as fire hydrants; some are hanging, some free-standing, a few larger ones lit from the inside with LED twinkle stars. They are gorgeous and otherworldly. He has no name for them. They just are. He loves them just as much as he loves himself and his infant son, Qirin, who is sleeping nearby and will one day inherit U.S. patent 20150079872 A1 (“Systems and methods for enhanced building-block applications”), among others.
On how he cured his Bell’s palsy:
Determined to do something about the situation, he started applying electrical shocks to his face. He says he cut the wires off his dad’s electric razor, attached one end to the fuse box in the basement and pressed the other to his skin. “I did that every day for five months and then I felt the slightest little twitch inside,” he says. He recovered fully, pretty much.
On that special math that he uses to make his plastic shit:
“This is the last century that our children will ever have been taught that one times one is one,” he says. “They won’t have to grow up in ignorance. Twenty years from now, they’ll know that one times one equals two. We’re about to show a new truth. The true universal math. And the proof is in these pieces. I have created the pieces that make up the motion of the universe.
On regretting not giving a high school girlfriend the gangbang she always wanted:
He first took an interest in sex in grade school. “In the ghetto, things happen a lot quicker,” he says. But by the time he was 16, he’d sworn it off, and when he fell in love with this one girl, he refused to give her what she wanted. “And then she ended up having a gangbang and called me laughing with her friends on speakerphone, and I was crying because of what had happened to my girl, not knowing that this was something she wanted.
There is so much more including how he remembers being in the womb, as well as the classic crazy person “I was supposed to be aborted, but God intervened” chestnut, but I’m stopping myself from quoting the entire thing. *rereads pull quotes* Jesus Christ! There was a fucking baby in there the whole time?