Nicolas Cage, What's On Your iPod?
Have you ever seen Leaving Las Vegas? If you have an alcoholism problem, Leaving Las Vegas will either cure that problem or encourage you to seek counseling.
In the movie, Nicolas Cage plays a man whose life is falling apart because he can't stay away from the sauce. He's drinking everywhere: in bed, in cabs, in the shower; it's disturbing, sad, and - in another case of art imitating life - served as a harbinger of the rest of Cage's turbulent personal history.
Dude needs to take a long vacation, stat:, dry out, spend some quality time with his family, and dig this mixtape we cobbled together for him.
If you can't stop drinking long enough to tour homes in New Orleans with your wife, it's possible that you have a serious problem. If you're "just having a box of Merlot to take the edge off of the fourth hour of The Today Show," you might consider checking yourself into a substance-abuse rehab. If you begin to attack nearby cars - in the belief, perhaps, that said cars are denigrating you or mean-mugging you or just otherwise infringing on the freedom American citizenship affords you to wander up and down streets yelling and whipping your wife around like a rag doll - then you definitely have a problem.
I knew this guy in college - really nice guy - who drank pretty much perpetually, all the time, and while his drinking eventually ruined his relationship with his high-school sweetheart, he never cut back. This was a dude who chewed tobacco, who planned to start a lawn service called "A Cut Above," who needed a six-pack to make it through his homework. And what was weird is that whether he'd had three beers or twenty, his general demeanor and cognitive abilities were essentially identical - unless he attempted to descend a staircase or drive an automobile. This was freshman year, and subsequently those of us who lived in that particular dorm either fled the school or opted not to acknowledge one another or the juvenile follies of that year. So this guy drifted out of my field of consciousness and eventually totally disappeared. No idea what happened to him.
If you've read Infinite Jest - and Gimme Noise will admit that as of this moment he's only like 1/3 through it, but gaining ground daily - you know that there's a lot of laughable future-schlock there, and tennis-related minutiae, and odd subterfuge, but there's also a great deal of insight into the nature of addiction and recovery, and some of the horrible, stultifying lows that people hit, sometimes repeatedly, while ping-ponging between those two poles. Infinite Jest is 1,000+ pages long, and full of footnotes, and could in theory be employed as part of a recovery program, where the user of whatever substance replaces the substance with Infinite Jest and is required as per a rehab-house contract to join an Infinite Jest Discussion Group with other recovering addicts, babbling listlessly about entertainments capable of inducing catatonic states and Quebec separatists and the grim, non-pro pro-tennis circuit.
Brother, if you have to ask...
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