A thread in which I tangentially comment on the orginal article
The man known as Hollywoods biggest a-hole
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Hollywood producer Scott Rudin became as famous as one of his movie stars last week when hackers leaked vicious e-mails between him and Sony Pictures co-chair Amy Pascal, in which he called Angelina Jolie a minimally talented spoiled brat with a rampaging spoiled ego.
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He has pushed assistants out of moving cars. He has thrown so many phones at assistants that, lore has it, a box of fresh ones is always on hand. He has fired people for bringing him the wrong muffin, mispronouncing names and, in at least one case, having to attend a funeral. One dismissed lackey wasnt even allowed to put on his coat before leaving the building.
http://pagesix.com/2014/12/14/the-man-known-as-hollywoods-biggest-a-hole/
Set aside Mr. Rudin in particular, for the moment.
How can this be the epitome of one's being? To display such a steady stream of bitterness and anger has to take a toll on one's self. Yes, it's destructive to everyone around them and they are being selfish but hasn't this exact same selfishness become the mode to self-destruction? How can this be anything except unending misery for the person who lives like this?
Rudin fires his assistants after 4 weeks but he can't fire that part of him that makes him so fundamentally dissatisfied with everything including when a person puts on their jacket.
My reflex is loathing but the more I ponder such things the loathing is replaced incredulity and pity mixed with a twinge of contempt.
I just don't get it and I pray I will never afflict myself they way some people do.