Last night, I watched the film called ‘Joe’ starring Nicolas Cage, Tye Sheridan and the late Gary Poulter. I have never really been too much of a Nick Cage fan (with the exception of The Rock) and couldn’t tell you why besides to say that his macho roles are always totally Schwarzenegger’d to all shit.
The movie Joe however, well….wow…is all I can say; this film was super low budget and had a cast that was mixed with regular street actors as well as more famous ones like Cage; but it’s message was PRICELESS. Cage did the performance of his career, in my opinion – and I realize that is likely because he portrays the epitome of a Psychopathic Bringer of Justice and Peace, but his character is EPIC.
I really can’t do a full review of his role and those of the others in the film without creating a very well-written spoiler – which I only do on movies older than five years. This was a 2013 film, so I will not.
However, in reading up on the film and its making, I was shocked to learn that Gary Poulter, who plays the belligerent and drunken father to Sheridan’s character, actually was a homeless “drunk” that was hired from the streets. His portrayal in the film is said to be one of little acting whatsoever. Additionally, he has died since the film was made; he was found face-down in a shallow pond in an Austin, Texas homeless encampment.
This information made the film that much more powerful and hauntingly surreal. Poulter’s character is evil and truly, truly beyond any help or redemption in the film. It was sad to learn of the lack behind any acting done on his part, for starters.
Poulter’s character being a drunken piece of shit to his son, Sheridan’s character, Gary.
Cage’s character, Joe on the verge of snapping with Poulter’s character, T-Daawg.
Either way – Cage fan or not, I suggest you see this film. It is on Amazon and likely available wherever you get movies nowadays.
In my first article in the all-new Psychopathic Bringers of Justice & Peace series, I shared with my readers some of my most celebrated “heroes” from literature, history, and film depictions. This probably gave you a very good idea of how my mind sees a “savior” or a “godsend”; and it’s quite likely not what would be considered “normal” in terms of societal standards (fuck ‘em)…
Pirates, soldiers, beast-like “things” that double as humans, scoundrels, hit men, gangsters, criminals of the most lowly kind; Hell, there’s no doubt in my mind that if I were to run into several of them somehow in a dark alley – I’d be toast by principle, alone.
For this segment, I’m going to examine some generalized reasons behind my unfailing curse of relating to these particular “psychopaths”; and also how the Hell I might openly consider each one heroic in his/her own right. (Though, I already know that many of my readers will not have to reach far in order to completely get it, since they are similar to me in these ways…)
This post examines the darker sides off each character for the most part – – – Next time, we will look at the similarities each of them as Heroes.
Let’s get to know a little about each of these blood-spilling “Boondock Saints“, shall we?
Lisbeth Salander – the Girl With the Dragon Tattoo (Novels by Stieg Larsson)
By the end of this Saga, we completely and totally understand, and accept Lisbeth’s psychological instabilities.
[Shown in photo as Lisbeth Salander of the Swedishfilm version of the Series, Noomi Rapace]
Survivor of SERIOUS multiple types of abuse
needs “alone time” often
resourceful as 10 mother fuckers
must have a set of HUGE nuts
knows who she is
Molotov-Cocktailed her abusive father at age 7
Not Giving a Fuck
Willing to die for what she believes to be right
Willing to kill for what she believes is right
Mr. Hyde – League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (movie)
Mr. Hyde is Not Giving a Fuck When All is Said and Done, He Will Make the Sacrifice.
Legal Hostage/ Fugitive
Betrayed and Embittered
Self-Medicating/ Drug Addict
Anger Management Issues
Complete Lack of Self-Control
Floki – Vikings on the History Channel
Floki Communicates with Nature but Cuts Throats, Too.
Needs Alone Time
Works with His Hands & Tools/ Woodworker
Daryl Dixon – The Walking Dead (AMC Series)
We’ve Watched as Daryl Became Human.
Childhood Abuse Survivor
Deeply Embedded Abandonment Issues
Recovered Alcoholic/ Rehabilitated Criminal
White Trash Childhood
Conflicted by Right and Wrong
Very Protective of Children & Women
Sensitive to the Needs of Others
Willing to Kill for Those He Loves
Struggles with Allowing Himself to Feel and Process Emotion
Totally in His Element Outdoors
Cha Tae-sik AKA “Pawn Shop” – theMan From Nowhere (movie)
Pawn Shop is a Truly Broken Hero.
Survivor Guilt Sufferer
Grieving Widower and Father of Unborn Child
Resigned to His Grief
A Man of Few Words and Many Actions
Fights Urge to Bond with Others
Savage Knife Fighter
Wears His Heart on His Sleeve
Not Giving a Fuck
Lucian – the Underworld (movies)
Lucian Epitomizes Self Control in a Psychopath
Born into Slavery
Massive Amounts of Self-Control
Capable of Deeply Adoring and Loving Others
Savage Fighter by Nature
Willing to Kill for Those He Loves
Long-Standing Blood Feud
Begrudging/ Chip On His Shoulder
Vengeful and Diabolical
Highly Intelligent and Observant
Léon– the Professional (movie):
Leon was a Professional at Becoming a Father and Savior to an abused Girl.
Man of Few Words
Willing to die for those he loves
Frank Castle – the Punisher (Stan Lee/Marvel Comics):
The Punisher Defined the term “Psychopathic Vendetta”.
Today’s morning post has been inspired by – yet, another sleepless night for Yours Truly.
As I was tossing and turning for hours on end, in a bed that I spent way too much cash in vain on (in hopes of it curing my insomnia-esque night time routine), I was thinking about Edward Norton Junior. Okay, well about his character in Fight Club: the narcoleptic corporate IKEA geek with a dastardly alter-ego that pirates control of his sanity for a time. Then I was thinking about Jim Carey’s character “Hank” from the movie Me, Myself and Irene. (In my defense, Hank is actually not a character I like – nor was Tyler Durden; it’s the innocents attached to these fuckers who I find myself relating with time and again…)
BLAM! It hit me in like a soap-sock to the back of the head; and it only tail spun my thoughts from there…
Floki of Vikings
Many of my most endeared and beloved ‘Heroes’, in real life and in the movies, are actually characters defined/depicted as villains, murderous warmongers, savages, psychopaths, head-cases and many other types of negative typecasts. They are ALWAYS the underdog; they are ALWAYS broken and damaged and unable to communicate properly. BUT they are also each individually AWARE of the shit that’s changing them and warping their’ existences.
It seems as though my very genetic sequencing was created on a battlefield somewhere back in time.
On the one hand (my father’s side, and the side of the family in which I was exposed to daily), my Old School Yankee blood hammers a foothold of ingenuity and aggression embedded in my very DNA. My Danish Emigrant family is littered with highly decorated American War Heroes in each and every generation that I know of, including my daughter’s generation. This side of my heritage historically and willingly puts up a well-organized and strategic fight for the glories it claims, no doubt. This side of my family tree is dwarfed in numbers by my mother’s side; and unfortunately, I believe that is because I have lost too many relatives, both distant and close, to warfare.
My Papa (my Dad’s father, who was my Partner in Crime until the day he died about a decade ago) doubled as my daycare provider since I can remember. This was a guy who was, indeed, a War Hero of at least two major wars in world history, a pilot (and it takes a certain kind for this), a Rosicrucian, a Mason, a self-taught Ancient Egyptologist (because he was compelled to explore alchemy, physics, astronomy, astrology, medicinal tincturing and ancient mysticism since his youth), but most notably and memorably for me: he was a magically wise soul. He was a genuine human being. He was one of my favorite people to hang out with for the entirety of my young life, even when I was a shithead teenager with a pierced face and old English block lettering Tattoos that said distasteful things – he never got boring or became too demanding of my time; my time was something that I always had more than enough for him.
I can write this, because he is dead and I am grown now;
During my teen years, he once rendezvoused with me at my car on the side of a dirt road during the wee hours of the morning (during a period in my life when I was swirling around life’s drain amidst teen angst, the shock and trauma of my Dad’s very sudden death, and in turn – the absolute demolition of my family unit as I had always before, and never again – known it; and was out of control in behavior and illegal activities) to offload armfuls of (totally illegal and extremely questionable in his perception) firearms with a stiff lip and stoic expression on his face the entire time. He drove away with at least ten felonies in his hatchback Celica without saying a fucking word to me about it.
I could never tell anyone about it growing up – couldn’t brag about it to my friends or brothers – because the fact that he never said anything taught me the lesson I’m sure he was shooting for: shame in grace, wrong against right, and dedication to those we love. I held it in for about five years before finally breaking one day over a Scrabble match and blurting out something like, “Papa, you know I’d NEVER ask you to do anything bad for me again EVER, right?…”
My Papa and I have the exact, same mischievously set eyes; upon meeting his gaze, I was always instantly triggered to smile, laugh, or giggle. This time though, when his eyes met mine, they spoke volumes of the disapproval and disappointment that he had been holding in all that time. Also quite noticeably though, was a weight that seemed to lift from his frame almost tangibly…and it came straight into my heart and has been with me ever since that moment.
For Veteran’s Day, I bow my head to any and all who have served my country in my place for whatever reasons.
This gratefulness that I feel runs deeply through the tangling roots of dead soldiers grown from my own family tree, and any other tree on Yankee/ Native soil. It most certainly takes someone with heart to be a soldier; thank you to all of the Veterans out there who may happen to read this post. Seriously…THANK YOU.