Let it be known that inhaling massive amounts of baby wipes fumes fucks with your brain and messes you up. Case in point: Terrence Howard’s interview with Rolling Stone.
To promote the second season of Empire, Terrence let Rolling Stone into his Chicago penthouse and he also let the craziness fly. Terrence talked to Rolling Stone’s Erik Hedegaard about everything from his messed up childhood (his dad went to prison for killing a dude while waiting in line to see Santa) to how he got Robert Downey Jr. the Iron Man job (yes, he’s still mouth farting about that) to his history of beating women. Terrence admits to slapping his first wife a couple of times, including in front of their children, and says that he “accidentally” hit his second wife Michelle Ghent. Terrence lives in that Chicago penthouse with his third “wife” Mira Pak and their son. At the time of the interview, Mira paid the rent on the penthouse, because he was battling Michelle in court for a piece of his Empire money, so his checks from Fox were being held for garnishment. Mira and Terrence were also secretly divorced when Rolling Stone came to visit, but they were pretending to be married. That’s not even the weirdest thing about Terrence’s life.
Terrence starts the interview by saying that he took the role of Lucious Lyon on Empire, because everyone already sees him as a douche, so he may as well play one. Terrence is hoping that he’ll make enough money from Empire to retire from acting and move to the suburbs where he’ll spend his days continuing to perfect his own theory of logic called Terryology. We already knew that Terrence Howard is a lady-beating gaping asshole of the tenth degree, but I don’t think any of us knew that he’s a mathematical genius.
Terrence says that when his career hit the toilet because word got around that he’s shitty to work with, he began developing his “logic” and when he married Mira, he dragged her into it. Mira tells Erik that she’s trapped in that penthouse and she’s got no friends and they never go out. All he wants to do when he’s not working is make his sculptures.
He continued to love himself by buying scissors, wire, magnets and vast numbers of sheets of plastic. He had a theory. It might seem crazy, it may even be crazy, but a long time ago he’d gotten hold of this notion that one times one doesn’t equal one, but two. He began writing down his logic, in a language of his own devising that he calls Terryology. He wrote forward and backward, with both his right and left hands, sometimes using symbols he made up that look foreign, if not alien, to keep his ideas secret until they could be patented. In 2013, he got married again, to an L.A. restaurateur named Mira Pak, and the two would spend up to 17 hours a day cutting shapes out of the plastic and joining them together into various objects meant to demonstrate not only his one-times-one theory but many others as well.
Erik describes Terry’s sculptures of geniusness as being pieces of plastic that are held together with copper wire or magnets. Terrence couldn’t stop talking about them.
“Since I was a child of three or four,” he says, “I was always wondering, you know, why does a bubble take the shape of a ball? Why not a triangle or a square? I figured it out. If Pythagoras was here to see it, he would lose his mind. Einstein, too! Tesla!” He shakes his head at the miracle of it all, his eyes opening wide, a smile beginning to trace itself, like he’s expecting applause or an award. And all you can do is nod your head and try to follow along. He just seems so convinced that he’s right. And that he is about to change the world.
And he goes on:
“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. We work on them about 17 hours a day. She cuts and puts on the crystals. I do the main work of soldering them together. They tell the truth from within.”
WHAT. THE. FUCK.
That’s some shit that a stranger on meth will tell you on the subway at 3am. You nod before saying that you have to get off, because it’s your stop (and it’s so not your stop).
I was going to say that Mira’s life sounds like utter hell, but I’d rather sweat my skin off in the Ninth Circle than be stuck in a penthouse where I have to glue stupid crystals onto stupid pieces of plastic while Terrence Howard blabbers out some Good Will Hunting on acid shit. That’s more of a nightmare than Bug.
And we really need to keep Terrence Howard and Jaden Smith apart. If they put their minds together, they may discover that zero plus zero doesn’t actually equal zero and then the world will never be the same again. We’re not ready for the fusion of Terryology and Jadenometry.
Here’s Good Terry Howard and his hostage/third ex-wife at an Empire event at Saks Fifth Avenue in NYC today: