![]() Are we sure this isn’t meth? This sounds exactly like meth. You know who else solders shapes and crystals together and thinks they’re on the cusp of a historic discovery? Crystal meth addicts. I do the main work of soldering them together. I have created the pieces that make up the motion of the universe. ![]() Twenty years from now, they’ll know that one times one equals two. “They won’t have to grow up in ignorance. “This is the last century that our children will ever have been taught that one times one is one,” he says. “I mean, you can’t conform when you know innately that something is wrong.” One times one equals two because the square root of four is two, so what’s the square root of two? Should be one, but we’re told it’s two, and that cannot be.” This did not go over well, he says, and he soon left school. “If one times one equals one that means that two is of no value because one times itself has no effect. Īfter high school, he attended Pratt Institute in Brooklyn, studying chemical engineering, until he got into an argument with a professor about what one times one equals. 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. He began writing down his logic, in a language of his own devising that he calls Terryology. 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. That’s not an anecdote, it’s an origin story. ![]() It’s also illuminating – you hear about Howard’s domestic violence troubles, but I don’t remember hearing that his dad stabbed a guy to death while he and Terrence were waiting in line to see Santa (!!!). After this latest Rolling Stone profile on Howard, I’m starting to worry that he’s legitimately crazy. Terrence Howard is a brilliant actor, and owns an incredible assortment of hats (and scarves), but he also belongs in a rarefied air of wacky interview subjects – your Steven Seagals, your Gary Buseys, your Jean-Claude Van Dammes – who can scarcely open his mouth without saying something so perfectly him that it borders on parody.Īt least, that’s the way it used to be. ![]()
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