The Strange Case of Carlos Estevez

Courtesy of http://www.vchannelnews.com/

I'm gonna hop on the bandwagon for a minute.

Most of us know "Carlos Estevez" as Charlie Sheen, the actor who is currently dominating all of the entertainment/gossip media outlets with Napoleonic zeal.  I was laying in bed last night listening to My Husband snore and I came up with a Charlie Sheen theory.

Don't get agitated, it's just a theory.  It's something to engage my brain when I can't sleep and it's your bad luck I'm capable of typing it up and posting it on the Internet for the world (or my current 12 viewers...10 from the United States, 1 from China and 1 from Singapore, hey guys!) to see.

I think Charlie Sheen is dying.  I think his foray to the hospital for severe abdominal pain a few months ago resulted in some terminal test results.  I think Sheen's long history of abusing recreational drugs and alcohol have caused a number of chronic conditions and culminated in pancreatic cancer.

So he gets this diagnosis and has himself a little reflection time.  He thinks about the survival rate for pancreatic cancer, the effects of chemo and the media coverage of Farrah Fawcett and Patrick Swayze's recent demises and deaths.  And honestly, I think he decided, "Fuck it.  I've got months to live and I'm gonna live them exactly how I want to.  I'm gonna say what I want, do what I want, live with a mini-harem and get my face on camera whenever I have the chance.  I'm not gonna keep going to a job where I hate the people.  I'm gonna suit myself."

I think the guy is James Deaning-it...living fast and dying how he wants to.  Not emaciated or bloated from futile radiation treatment.  Not in a hospital bed where he's too weak to get himself to the bathroom.  Not in rehab ruminating with a counselor about his many addictions and tormented with withdrawal symptoms.  He wants to be in his house: drunk, stoned or having sex with people who know EXACTLY what they're doing. 

He doesn't want to be pitied or fawned over or reminisced with.  Charlie Sheen doesn't want to linger and say anguished goodbyes.  He wants to sear himself into our memories as a shining example of talent and passion that flashes white-hot and burns out quickly. 

Courtesy of http://www.taramtamtam.com/

Maybe it's a still a secret because his doctor can't legally give interviews about his condition (doctor/patient confidentiality).  Maybe that's why he looks so pallid and skinny. Maybe Denise Richards knows and that's why she's been so supportive.  Maybe Brooke Mueller doesn't and that's why she hasn't.  Maybe that's why Martin Sheen referred to his son's addictions as a "cancer."  Maybe Charlie doesn't want to work because he's got a kickass life insurance policy that will provide for his five children the rest of their lives.

Am I projecting a Shakespearean attitude or a tragic Greek eloquence on a guy who may just have Swiss-cheese-crazy-brain from cocaine and booze?  Possibly.  Sheen could also be another Hollywood asshole who's cashing in on his notoriety Spencer Pratt-style.  But I like my Charlie better.  And I think he would, too.