The majority of emails I get from my vast readership seems to revolve around one subject area. Most of them ask "Jerk Stupidneck, what advice can you give to me, a lowly stinking peasant, that will help me better my putrid and depressing life?"
Your words, not mine my friends. Although I do share the sentiment, I will nonetheless offer these Life Lessons from time to time.
These are lessons I have learned by observing others, through careful tutelage from a mentor (I'm looking at you Big D), and through sheer gut instinct. Now I pass them on to you that you might lift yourself out of the cesspool you call your life. Today's Lesson I learned from a great man - Mr. Orson Welles.
Screenwriter. Director. Actor in theatre, film and radio. Orson Welles was a great man in his day. At the age of 18 months was declared a child prodigy (and these were in the days when you told your kid he was stupid until you were proven wrong - The Golden Era). Through the company of his father he learned magic from various Vaudevillians while his mother bestowed upon him her musical talents as well as a knowledge of Shakespeare.
But all that is boring. The point is that eventually he began working in films and eventually masterminded one of the greatest films in cinema history - Citizen Kane. He can be seen in this clip acting opposite Joseph Cotten in "The Third Man"
Young, handsome, powerful, in the prime of his life. The world was his oyster.
And he, like so many success stories before him, began to eat that oyster. By the time he roasted Frank Sinatra he had retained a few oysters in his belly region, but nonetheless he was a well spoken and well respected artist. Commanding an audience of the era's finest entertainers and taking shots at another great man, Mr. Frank Sinatra.
Shortly thereafter, it seems the oyster began taking hold of Welles brain. Or perhaps, it was the need for more and more oysters that caused him to take on work that would have previously been below him. For reference, view this clip from a special on Nostradamus's predictions called The Man Who Saw Tomorrow
Ok fine. So the arabs teamed up with the Rooskies in 1999 and nuked the hell out of New York. The evidence is inconclusive as to whether or not this happened, but everyone knows that Nostradamus was functionally retarded and could often be found staring at glass beads for hours before spouting off gibberish about caped arab men conquering the west with nuclear hell... well everyone knew that except Orson who decided it was an excellent career move to narrate such stories. I wish would have kept my sweet cape that I used to wear in 1999.
Ok this is simply too much. Not only is it humiliating to the man's memory that you can type in PORK and find a clip with him in it. But that clip also shows a once great man drowned in so much Cutty Sark that he can't see straight. Let alone act his way through a commercial for some carbonated vinegar with some French label glued to it.
Where am I going with this? Why drag down one of the nations greatest achievers?
Because within this sad tale is life lesson number one: Don't waste everyone's time by lingering on longer than we want to tolerate you. Go down in a blaze of glory and be done with it before you embarass yourself
James Dean had a car wreck. Anna Nicole was a car wreck. Hendrix choked on his own puke.
Me? I plan on being the first man whose innards orbit the earth after my crudely made Moon Rocket explodes in the upper ionosphere.