Mel Gibson: what a beaver

2010-07-14 12:50
If the idea of Mel Gibson communicating effectively with his arm up a beaver (aha ha) seems unrealistic, let me remind you that this is a movie that starts off on the premise that anyone could be married to Jodie Foster. If you’ll buy that, you’ll buy anything.

Back in the real world, or whatever passes for the real world in la-la land, Gibson’s life could be titled something far ruder than The Beaver. After the release of the audio clips exposing him as... well, a beaver, even his supporters must be having a hard time coming up with creative new excuses to defend the indefensible. Maybe it’s only a matter of time before his publicist tries to garner pity by explaining to the media how stressful it is being a Jew-hater in Hollywood.

Failing that, Gibson might be tempted to use his dipsomania, the one-size-fits-all defence for abhorrent celebrity behaviour. Sure, he’s used it before, but this is an excuse that never seems to wear out. Those three magic little words, "I was drunk", could explain away entire lives (Lindsay Hohan’s comes to mind) and has probably done more to save relationships than those other three magic little words which, in this corporatised world, seem about as sincere as a World’s Greatest Dad coffee mug bought in the arrivals section of an airport terminal.

But take it from an alcoholic survivor who knows far more about shitfaced-ness than anyone with only one liver should: inebriation is a lousy excuse. Nobody suddenly turns into an asshole when they’re drunk. All that happens is their guard comes down to let their natural assholism shine through.

In vino veritas, as pretentious people who like to quote Latin idioms like to say, which essentially means that if you’re an asshole when you’re drunk, you’re just an asshole usually suppressed by sobriety. It’s nothing to be ashamed about. If drunken behaviour is anything to go by, it’s easy to conclude that the world is saturated with suppressed assholes, so there’s no need for anyone to feel alone.

But few reach the assholic depths of Mel Colm-Cille Gerard Gibson, a man who seems to think that racism, sexism, homophobia and domestic abuse are all okay with the Lord, so long as you remember that condoms are the Devil’s fingers, and make at least one torture-snuff porn movie about Jesus Christ. I’ll bet that if The Passion of the Christ was about any Jew other than Jesus, the moral majority would have seen it for the repulsive obscenity that it was.

After his famous anti-Semitic sugar-tits tirade, Gibson pulled the drunk card thusly (translated to English from the original Australian-American): "I have battled the disease of alcoholism for all of my adult life and profoundly regret my horrific relapse. I apologise for any behaviour unbecoming of me in my inebriated state and have already taken necessary steps to ensure my return to health."

Now, as it turns out, booze apparently makes Mel relatively polite. Latest rumours indicate that Gibson was stone cold sober when he raged to his girlfriend, Oksana Grigorieva:

"When you go out in public and it's a fucking embarrassment to me. You look like a fucking bitch on heat. And if you get raped by a pack of n****** it'll be your fault, all right? Because you provoked it. You are provocatively dressed all the time. With your fake boobs you feel you have to show off, in tight outfits and tight pants so you can see your p**** from behind."

I doubt that many non-assholes could say something like that – unless they were really, really drunk, and a sober Mel Gibson shoved his hand up their ass and made their lips move. publishes all comments posted on articles provided that they adhere to our Comments Policy. Should you wish to report a comment for editorial review, please do so by clicking the 'Report Comment' button to the right of each comment.

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