Okay, it's late, I'm tired, and there's sufficient gunk in my chest to play a few round of golf. Let's get this business started.
You know, we live in a pretty great time. There are smart phones with calendars in them (I know, a calendar? In a phone? It sounds too good to be true, but, rest assured, such things exist AND can be used to automatically remind you of the time and location for various sundry events that may arise throughout the course of your quotidian duties. Also, I managed to not only use but spell correctly quotidian (at least, Firefox hasn't marked it as a made up word just yet, so I'm going to count it as a win), which is quite a coup for ol' Rob. I'm sure there's some sort of competition regarding such things, and if there isn't, I just started it and won it. Go me.), there are websites dedicated to lists that are reasonably family friendly, there's chocolate and bourbon (for the moment, at least), and there's, I dunno, puppies.
Yeah, life is pretty great. But there's a problem that lies in the shadows of our society, and nobody is actually willing to talk about it. Because of our reluctance to acknowledge and deal with it, the problem festers and just keeps growing. More and more people fall into it, because, hey, it couldn't happen to me, right? The warning signs just start creeping up on you, and then, boom. You're past the point of no return.
Let me set the scene for you.
You're at a party. You see a cute young lady (or fella, but here it's going to have to be a lady- bear with me) across the room. You start making eyes at each other. Maybe you go over to the keg or the punch bowl or the bar or the chip table, and you start having a conversation. You're in different fields, but you think that's okay, you know? That way you can learn from each other every day. You like the same movies and similar enough music, and he/she (but it has to be a she in this case- seriously, bear with me) even knows that one obscure Scandinavian swing/jazz/disco metal band that you listen to. You both can quote Wizard People, Dear Reader, but not in an annoying way. You get his/her (but it has to be a she in this case- for the love of God, bear with me) number and set up a dinner date for the following Friday.
You go to a small Italian place downtown. It's a little off the beaten track, but they have really good pasta, and the atmosphere is absolutely amazing. You both still have plenty to talk about, and the connection is palpable. Neither of you is having any sort of distilled alcohol for the risk of burning down the restaurant, so palpably are the sparks flying (like I've said, I can't give you gold every time). You go and get a drink at this small place that does amazing cocktails and is just far enough off the beaten path to avoid the tourists and college kids. Things are going great- there's no way there's a problem brewing on the horizon. You don't have a problem.
Oh, don't you?
You go on some more dates, and things continue to be amazing. You've never met someone like this before. She makes you want to be a better person, to strive for bigger and better things. You're head over heels in love, and she feels the same way. The weeks turn to months turn to years, and everything is wonderful. The passion, the spark, the humor- they're all just like that first night at the party. You know that she's the one. You take her to that nice little Italian place where you went on your first date. As you order dessert, you reach down and take out the ring. You try to make a long speech about how you feel and how much she means to you, but words fail you. Thankfully, she just looks into your eyes and says, enthusiastically, repeatedly, yes. Yes. A thousand times yes.
The ceremony is intimate but meaningful. Your families couldn't be more excited for you. You have an old mutual friend, the one who hosted the part where you met, officiate. It's mostly just family and close friends, but it's meaningful. It is, without a doubt, the happiest day of your life.
Now, what happens to your wife?
A.) She is run down by a pair of motorcycle thugs, out for revenge, leading to you becoming a shell of your former self as you become a vigilante on the prowl.
B.) She is killed by a South African crime lord, but the death is staged to look like a car accident, leaving you despondent for years to come, leading to you becoming a shell of your former self as you become a loose cannon cop on the prowl.
C.) She abandons her people to join you and your fellow mutineers as you sail for some refuge and she survives you after you are killed in a slave rebellion, having become a shell of your former self and a hypocritical mutineer on the prowl.
D.) She is killed by a British officer for not being allowed his droit de seigneur, leading to you becoming a shell of your former self as you become a leader of Scottish rebellion on the prowl.
If you picked any of these answers, I'm sorry to say that you are in danger of being Mel Gibson.
That's not to say that you ARE Mel Gibson. It's entirely possible that you're actually Sylvester Stallone or Harrison Ford, but with those answers? The odds are pretty heavily stacked towards Gibson.
The good news is that record numbers of people are being diagnosed as being Mel Gibson. It's unclear if this is due to an increased incidence of being Mel Gibson or if we've just gotten better at recognizing and diagnosing being Mel Gibson.
Signs of being Mel Gibson include: speaking with an Australian accent; an affinity for increasingly graphic depictions of violence and torture; rampant historical revisionism to satisfy simplistic tropes and the aforementioned affinity for increasingly graphic depictions of violence and torture; a desire to shout out racist comments within range of recording equipment; unfortunate facial hair decisions; investments in California real estate; walking onto the set of Machete Kills and just wandering around while cameras are rolling; an obsession with dead languages and their use in film; dry mouth; aliens in cornfields; unsafe handling of bear cubs; bizarre facial expressions; dry mouth; dry mouth; no, seriously, you mouth is going to feel like sandpaper; affinity for other Mel Gibsons; and a plague of frogs.
If you believe that you or someone you know may be Mel Gibson, please, call your doctor. Do not attempt to contact the media. The media will not believe you, and you may begin to rant about Jewish Illuminati conspiracies. Do not approach a synagogue with questions regarding Jewish Illuminati conspiracies. Local rabbis have been trained to spot the signs of being Mel Gibson and are authorized to use lethal force in accordance with Leviticus. The plague of frogs will appear to run rampant throughout the city. Do not attempt to wrangle the plague of frogs, as they will literally burn your face off.
In animal testing, being Robert Downey, Jr., has been shown to alleviate the effects of being Mel Gibson. Clinical trials are in progress and are accepting patients who are Mel Gibson.
If you or a loved one is becoming Mel Gibson, do not marry, as the wives of Mel Gibson tend to meet unfortunate ends. Unmarried love interests tend to do pretty well for themselves, especially if they are somehow affiliated with rivals or enemies of Mel Gibson.
If you experience the signs of becoming Mel Gibson but are beginning to speak with an Irish accent, do not worry. You are becoming Liam Neeson, which is generally pretty awesome, because he is a pretty cool guy. Other signs of becoming Liam Neeson are underuse in Star Wars films, growing to an impressive stature, fookin' with Nazis, the ability to convince people of anything you say through the power of your voice, and generally being a pretty cool guy.
If you or a loved one are becoming Mel Gibson, you are not alone. Support groups are available for sufferers of being Mel Gibson and their families to allow them to share their stories of pain, transformation, and hope. Please donate to charities supporting research for the treatment of being Mel Gibson. With your help, we can make being Mel Gibson a thing of the past, and never again will people suffer from this horrible affliction.
Except for Mel Gibson, of course.
You know, we live in a pretty great time. There are smart phones with calendars in them (I know, a calendar? In a phone? It sounds too good to be true, but, rest assured, such things exist AND can be used to automatically remind you of the time and location for various sundry events that may arise throughout the course of your quotidian duties. Also, I managed to not only use but spell correctly quotidian (at least, Firefox hasn't marked it as a made up word just yet, so I'm going to count it as a win), which is quite a coup for ol' Rob. I'm sure there's some sort of competition regarding such things, and if there isn't, I just started it and won it. Go me.), there are websites dedicated to lists that are reasonably family friendly, there's chocolate and bourbon (for the moment, at least), and there's, I dunno, puppies.
 |
| Of course, sometimes they're forced into top hats, just to balance out the good with the just awful. "In the aaaaarms oooof and aaangel." |
Let me set the scene for you.
 |
| "Let's do some improvisational comedy." |
You're at a party. You see a cute young lady (or fella, but here it's going to have to be a lady- bear with me) across the room. You start making eyes at each other. Maybe you go over to the keg or the punch bowl or the bar or the chip table, and you start having a conversation. You're in different fields, but you think that's okay, you know? That way you can learn from each other every day. You like the same movies and similar enough music, and he/she (but it has to be a she in this case- seriously, bear with me) even knows that one obscure Scandinavian swing/jazz/disco metal band that you listen to. You both can quote Wizard People, Dear Reader, but not in an annoying way. You get his/her (but it has to be a she in this case- for the love of God, bear with me) number and set up a dinner date for the following Friday.
You go to a small Italian place downtown. It's a little off the beaten track, but they have really good pasta, and the atmosphere is absolutely amazing. You both still have plenty to talk about, and the connection is palpable. Neither of you is having any sort of distilled alcohol for the risk of burning down the restaurant, so palpably are the sparks flying (like I've said, I can't give you gold every time). You go and get a drink at this small place that does amazing cocktails and is just far enough off the beaten path to avoid the tourists and college kids. Things are going great- there's no way there's a problem brewing on the horizon. You don't have a problem.
Oh, don't you?
 |
| BEAR WITH ME. |
You go on some more dates, and things continue to be amazing. You've never met someone like this before. She makes you want to be a better person, to strive for bigger and better things. You're head over heels in love, and she feels the same way. The weeks turn to months turn to years, and everything is wonderful. The passion, the spark, the humor- they're all just like that first night at the party. You know that she's the one. You take her to that nice little Italian place where you went on your first date. As you order dessert, you reach down and take out the ring. You try to make a long speech about how you feel and how much she means to you, but words fail you. Thankfully, she just looks into your eyes and says, enthusiastically, repeatedly, yes. Yes. A thousand times yes.
 |
| "I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another… then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes. Also, bear with me." |
The ceremony is intimate but meaningful. Your families couldn't be more excited for you. You have an old mutual friend, the one who hosted the part where you met, officiate. It's mostly just family and close friends, but it's meaningful. It is, without a doubt, the happiest day of your life.
Now, what happens to your wife?
A.) She is run down by a pair of motorcycle thugs, out for revenge, leading to you becoming a shell of your former self as you become a vigilante on the prowl.
B.) She is killed by a South African crime lord, but the death is staged to look like a car accident, leaving you despondent for years to come, leading to you becoming a shell of your former self as you become a loose cannon cop on the prowl.
C.) She abandons her people to join you and your fellow mutineers as you sail for some refuge and she survives you after you are killed in a slave rebellion, having become a shell of your former self and a hypocritical mutineer on the prowl.
D.) She is killed by a British officer for not being allowed his droit de seigneur, leading to you becoming a shell of your former self as you become a leader of Scottish rebellion on the prowl.
If you picked any of these answers, I'm sorry to say that you are in danger of being Mel Gibson.
 |
| It's going to be okay. |
The good news is that record numbers of people are being diagnosed as being Mel Gibson. It's unclear if this is due to an increased incidence of being Mel Gibson or if we've just gotten better at recognizing and diagnosing being Mel Gibson.
Signs of being Mel Gibson include: speaking with an Australian accent; an affinity for increasingly graphic depictions of violence and torture; rampant historical revisionism to satisfy simplistic tropes and the aforementioned affinity for increasingly graphic depictions of violence and torture; a desire to shout out racist comments within range of recording equipment; unfortunate facial hair decisions; investments in California real estate; walking onto the set of Machete Kills and just wandering around while cameras are rolling; an obsession with dead languages and their use in film; dry mouth; aliens in cornfields; unsafe handling of bear cubs; bizarre facial expressions; dry mouth; dry mouth; no, seriously, you mouth is going to feel like sandpaper; affinity for other Mel Gibsons; and a plague of frogs.
 |
| The vaguely cute but mostly unsettling kind. |
If you believe that you or someone you know may be Mel Gibson, please, call your doctor. Do not attempt to contact the media. The media will not believe you, and you may begin to rant about Jewish Illuminati conspiracies. Do not approach a synagogue with questions regarding Jewish Illuminati conspiracies. Local rabbis have been trained to spot the signs of being Mel Gibson and are authorized to use lethal force in accordance with Leviticus. The plague of frogs will appear to run rampant throughout the city. Do not attempt to wrangle the plague of frogs, as they will literally burn your face off.
 |
| Burning your face off may lead to a rare but deadly form of being Mel Gibson. |
If you or a loved one is becoming Mel Gibson, do not marry, as the wives of Mel Gibson tend to meet unfortunate ends. Unmarried love interests tend to do pretty well for themselves, especially if they are somehow affiliated with rivals or enemies of Mel Gibson.
If you experience the signs of becoming Mel Gibson but are beginning to speak with an Irish accent, do not worry. You are becoming Liam Neeson, which is generally pretty awesome, because he is a pretty cool guy. Other signs of becoming Liam Neeson are underuse in Star Wars films, growing to an impressive stature, fookin' with Nazis, the ability to convince people of anything you say through the power of your voice, and generally being a pretty cool guy.
 |
| Even with Swayze and Paxton in the Kentucky mountains, Neeson is a pretty cool guy. |
If you or a loved one are becoming Mel Gibson, you are not alone. Support groups are available for sufferers of being Mel Gibson and their families to allow them to share their stories of pain, transformation, and hope. Please donate to charities supporting research for the treatment of being Mel Gibson. With your help, we can make being Mel Gibson a thing of the past, and never again will people suffer from this horrible affliction.
Except for Mel Gibson, of course.
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