by E. Reltso
CHAPTER FIVE
THE MASTER OF ALL ADDICTIONS
There once was a man who wanted to be famous. He considered becoming a mass murderer since they tended to get a lot of fame, but decided he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life in jail, or go the electric chair. Then he decided to become a pop/rock star, but soon realized that would require him to degrade his talents more than he felt comfortable with.
Finally he settled on the perfect scheme—to become a master of all addictions! He had always been extremely strong-willed, such as when he was only five and stopped eating altogether until his mom agreed to give him pizza for breakfast instead of oatmeal. He figured he would become famous by purposefully addicting himself to everything in the world that caused addictions, then publicly overcoming them all in record time to show that he was stronger.
He decided to start with nicotine. Up to that point in his life, if he was even in the same room with a smoker it always made him nauseous. However, he immediately started smoking twenty packs of cigarettes a day, plus cigars. When he wasn’t smoking (or coughing or gagging), he chewed tobacco, even though he hated the stuff since it made him feel like he was going to throw up. But he knew that any worthy goal is worth sacrificing for, so he forced himself to do it.
It wasn’t long until he could blow smoke rings around passing mosquitoes and spit tobacco so accurately that he could hit a moving cockroach at three yards. When he was sure he was addicted enough he stopped abruptly. The withdrawal was more severe than he had expected, and at times the craving was almost more than he could stand. It was sometimes so bad that his hands would shake, his eyes would glaze over, and when he tried to talk nothing but spit would come out. But true to his goal, he never smoked or chewed again, even though he craved it terribly.
Unfortunately, he gained little fame from his efforts. Many people had overcome smoking, so it was no big deal. Realizing that nicotine had been too easy to overcome, he decided that for his next feat he would combine alcohol and drug use at the same time, and lick two addictions at once. That should gain him some instant fame. He knew this was extremely dangerous, but like most true geniuses he was willing to risk his life for such a worthy goal as mastering all addictions.
He immediately started drinking 6 to 8 gallons of alcohol a day—not the light stuff like beer, but Vodka, Scotch and Whiskey. Then he moved to Columbia where he could have free access to a number of illegal drugs, and opened his own meth lab. He also bought a few thousand needles, and made good use of them. He consumed an amazing volume and variety of drugs every day, and incredibly didn’t die in the process. By this time his fame had spread, so he was able to find a number of rich sponsors who were more than happy to give millions to help him afford the drugs he needed to become hopelessly addicted and dependent (all in the name of science and progress, of course).
In no time our hero was pleased to see that his arm resembled a pin cushion, his eyes were constantly bloodshot, and he had a constant problem distinguishing reality from fantasy. When he and his assistants (he obviously had to have help, in his condition) decided he was addicted enough, he returned to the United States in the midst of much publicity, and was taken to a glass booth at a TV station to show the world how quickly he could overcome his addictions to alcohol, heroin, cocaine, LSD, meth and just about every other drug known to man.
A large keg of Vodka was placed inside the booth, along with an amazing assortment of illegal drugs (a policeman was waiting just outside to take our hero into custody, if he used any).
This time, the withdrawal pains and cravings the man experienced were beyond anything he could have imagined. The poor man ranted and screamed, slammed himself into the walls of his glass box and balled like a baby. He hallucinated constantly and contemplated suicide rather than to have to spend the rest of his days without the escape from reality that the drugs and booze gave him. But true to his commitment, he didn’t touch the Vodka or any of the drugs. He showed the world that his will was stronger.
After four weeks of incredible withdrawal agony in the glass booth, our hero was free to go. Because he was so messed up by drugs, he was no longer able to drive (or even walk straight), but he was happy because he had gained his goal of fame and shown he could overcome any addiction. His constant cravings for alcohol, nicotine and drugs were often overpowering and made his life miserable. But of course he never yielded to the temptation to use them again. Such was the price of fame.
However, it wasn’t long until our hero started to feel depressed. Surely there had to be more addictions to overcome than booze, drugs and smoking. Indeed, his public began to clamor for something new, and his fame began to fade. He had to find a new addiction quick!
The answer came to him while at the grocery store checkout stand, while glancing at all the quasi-pornographic magazines placed next to the candy for all the children to see. Sex was a wonderful addiction! Why hadn’t he realized it before? He immediately rushed to the nearest smut shop and bought 300 pounds of the sickest, hardest porn he could find. Although many of the pictures turned his stomach, he knew he had to keep going. When he wasn’t looking at the stuff in magazines and books, he looked at it on the internet. He also started to participate in activities with both men and women that were so sensuous and revolting that they cannot be written here (or this book would be banned even by people who don’t believe in book banning).
In no time, our hero was hopelessly addicted. Realizing he was ready, he returned to the glass booth amid much fanfare, where a constant stream of gays, prostitutes and porn was offered to him (a thick ceiling-to-floor curtain was ready for him to use, in case he decided to indulge his addiction). Gay groups nationwide claimed that, now that he had found his true calling, he would never depart from it. To their amazement however, and in spite of the tremendous battle the man suffered with his physical urges that he had unleashed and allowed to run unrestrained for so long, he turned his back on all of it. He was out of the booth in three weeks and never returned to sexual addictions again.
Although there was a period of euphoria at this new victory, it wasn’t long until our hero was again depressed. It seemed that he had already faced and conquered the world’s worst addictions and his life’s work was therefore over and there was nothing left to do. Of course the addictions had left their mark. He was still too messed up from drugs to ever drive again (or walk straight), and he constantly craved cigarettes and booze. Furthermore, now that he had been through sexual addictions, his innocence and ability to enjoy quiet, peaceful thoughts in his own mind was gone. Now he constantly had graphic images disturb his thinking, combined with strong cravings and urges that are best left undiscussed. But of course, it was all worth it, in order for him to achieve his goal.
In depressed desperation, our hero returned to the grocery store where he had found his last addiction, hoping it would help him find another. And it did! While despondently trying to work his way through the donut aisle past several obese people (who were very hard to get around), it came to him. Food! Why hadn’t he thought of it before! How could he have overlooked the national pastime, the biggest addiction of them all? Excitedly he filled two shopping carts with all the fatty foods he could find, then happily returned home to eat himself sick. He ate constantly, topping everything (even hamburgers) with a healthy dose of whipped cream or sour cheese. He drank cream by the gallon and had three dozen donuts a day (as snacks between his eight regular meals). He had to force himself to keep eating at times when he felt like another bite would make him explode. But he kept at it, to reach his goal. He also drank gallons of coffee and black tea (which by themselves are very addicting) to keep himself awake so he could eat all night.
It took him longer to become fully addicted this time. But slowly his weight began to rise. Newspapers published a daily weight gain index for his many admirers. There was a national outcry of joy when he reached 350 pounds a few months later. He decided he was th
en ready for the glass booth again. By now he had overcome his initial revulsion of constant eating, and instead loved every minute of it. The thought of stopping was horrifying. He therefore knew he was ready.
Local restaurants filled the glass booth with the most tantalizing dishes imaginable. The booth and the entire studio were constantly filled with the mouth-watering aroma of chicken cordon bleu, filet mignon, pizza, potatoes au graten, and dozens of other tantalizing dishes. Millions of struggling obese people (more than half the country) turned on their TVs everyday in the hope of seeing that our hero would succumb to his addiction and eat.
But they were sadly disappointed. Although driven nearly out of his mind by the continuous tantalizing aroma of his favorite dishes, our hero turned his back on all of it. To his surprise, he found that he craved coffee and tea the most, so much so that he couldn’t stop his hands from constantly shaking. Yet he never drank another drop. All he would eat was a little bit of lettuce, fruit and nonfat yogurt. He refused to eat anything fattening. In three months, he was back under 200 pounds and out of the booth. He was both hailed as a hero for overcoming his addiction, and universally despised by people who had tried for years to lose weight without success.
The euphoria of our hero’s latest victory didn’t last long. It seemed he was only content when he had a new addiction to overcome. But it seemed that he had conquered them all. At least he couldn’t think of any new ones to try. He had done all of the physical craving addictions—what else was there? Our hero slipped slowly into depression, which was greatly aggravated of course by his constant cravings for drugs, booze, cigarettes, sex, food and coffee. However, he didn’t yield for an instant to any of these overpowering urges, no matter how depressed he became. He knew that if he did, he would lose the only thing he had left, now that his addiction conquering days were apparently over—his status as a ‘has been.’ If he yielded to the multitude of urges constantly screaming to be fulfilled, he would lose what fleeting fame he still had left. But it was a miserable life.
In desperation, our hero returned to the supermarket that had given him his last two addiction ideas. Sadly however, no new ideas came to him there. Then one day the man had a visit from a religious leader, asking permission to use the man’s example to teach his congregation about how there is no addiction that is too strong to be overcome. Naturally our hero agreed—he could use all the publicity he could get. Then the religious leader asked a question that shocked our hero. “So,” said the religious leader casually, “now that you’ve conquered the handful of obvious addictions, when are you going to start using your tremendous talents to overcome the real addictions out there?”
Instantly our hero was all ears. “What ‘real’ addictions?” he practically shouted.
“Why, don’t you know?” asked the religious leader in surprise. “The obsessive addictions! There’s hardly a man or woman on the planet that doesn’t have one!”
Our hero stared at him blankly.
“Well, you know!” said his friend. “Sports, cars, hunting, clothes, fashion, shopping, exercise, health foods—the list goes on and on. None of these things are bad in moderation, but it’s amazing how many people take them too far. They snub their loved ones and friends since they would rather spend their time with their addiction. Like a man ignoring his wife while watching games on TV all day. Or the woman who can’t stop thinking of new dresses and beauty crèmes and exercise programs to make herself attractive.”
“Wow!” said our hero, his eyes lighting up with all the possibilities. His friend continued. “Almost anything can become an addiction if taken too far. Even moods. Some people are addicted to anger; others to depressed self pity; others to worry. Even religion can become an addiction if taken too far. Look at all the religious fanatics out there. And as people get older, their addictions get stronger, not weaker. Regardless of a person’s age, you can usually identify a person’s addictions just by talking to them for five minutes.”
Our hero was so overjoyed by now that all he could do was pump the religious leader’s hand and say, “Thank you!” over and over again. He had barely tapped the surface of addictions! And he had now found such a treasure trove of addictive obsessions to overcome that it would probably take the rest of his life to become addicted to them all, then conquer them. Our hero’s faith in his life goal was restored, and he set to work immediately.
He decided the first thing he needed to do was to get married, so he could have a loved-one at hand to neglect while he pursued his numerous obsessive addictions. This would make overcoming the addiction much more difficult. Because of his fame he had no trouble finding a wife. He had a wonderful wedding and honeymoon, and enjoyed a very pleasant first 3 months of marriage in order to establish a loving relationship that could be destroyed by addictions. He was devoted to her, and she to him. He almost regretted at the end of the three months what he knew he had to do, but set forth nonetheless on his goal. After all, it was more important than she was.
He decided to first become addicted to work. His plan was to work all day and all evening, and every weekend, and often into the night. Since he wasn’t trained as a lawyer or doctor, which would have given him the perfect profession to do this, he decided to do the next best thing—he would develop and test computer programs designed to make money on the internet.
Not that the man like the internet or computers. In fact, he hated them. But just as he had done with his prior addictions, he threw every bit of his tremendous energy into his effort. In a matter of a few months, he had lost his wife (naturally, she divorced him), but instead had developed an obsessive love of computer wizardry that was so intense, that even the thought of leaving it forever nearly drove him out of his mind with depression.
Back to the booth he went. This time it was set up with the latest and best computer equipment and software to tempt him. Computer geeks of all varieties came every day to tantalize him with intriguing questions. If only they could get him—just once—to yield, and condescend to answer a question, or even to nod or hint at an answer. Or to go over and click the mouse on a computer. Or to even just answer a text message.
But our hero didn’t budge. Not once did he answer any of the geeks. He ignored the computers, cells phones and related gadgetry, and spent his day sitting on his bed staring blankly at the wall. He nearly went mad with restless energy, and the incredible urge to use his newfound computer knowledge once again. After all, with what he now knew about computers, he could make far more money than he had ever made on his addiction crusade. But he stayed firm. He knew that there are some goals almost bigger than life itself that are worth fighting for. In three weeks, he was out of the booth again and never turned on another computer as long as he lived.
Our hero promptly got married a second time and developed another loving relationship. When he had developed it enough so that it could be ruined by a new addiction, and would therefore make it much harder for him to overcome the addiction, he turned to his next choice of addictions to overcome—sports. In no time he knew every team’s score in every major sport for the last 50 years. He knew every batting average, yardage record, total game points earned, etc., etc. He would sit on the couch and eat popcorn while watching sports all day, ignoring his wife while she tried to vacuum around him. It wasn’t long before he had achieved the enviable status of his second divorce, and more knowledge of sports than even the best trained sportscasters. Every thought, every breath, every waking moment was filled with the world of sport.
And then it was time for the booth again. This time, it was filled with TVs broadcasting games, with sports pundits who came to ask his opinion of the odds on the next game, and often with the players themselves who came to offer him their autographs. To their chagrin, he turned his back on all of them (one sports figure was so shocked at having his autograph refused that he went into convulsions). Not once did the man even so much as look at
the TV screens, or talk to anyone about sports. He stuffed his socks into his ears so he wouldn’t hear the games. He hummed and sang to himself when coaches and fans yelled at him about the upcoming sports events. He slept through the super bowl. In a word, he did the unthinkable in today’s world—he gave up sports completely, and for good.
Once out of the booth, the man didn’t waste any time on his next endeavor. He had a bit harder time finding someone to marry him, now that it was common knowledge he would just ignore them later on. But some flouncy women considered him a challenge, to see if they could addict him to THEM more than any other earthly thing. So in the end, he found another wife.
This time (and to his new wife’s chagrin), he decided to become obsessively addicted to an emotion rather than a pastime or a thing. He chose anger as the most common of the emotional addictions. After the honeymoon was over, he started to beat up his wife and go into uncontrollable rages of pure, pointless, ridiculous bouts of anger. Hardly any provocation would set him off. He initially found such behavior very distasteful, since he was naturally a person who prided himself on his self control. But for the sake of his worthy goal, he knew he had to force himself to become an angry ogre, and to lose all control whenever he got even the slightest bit upset.
This time his divorce was granted in record time, and he landed in jail within a week. After beating up all his cell mates and any guard who came within range, he was placed in solitary confinement. By now, his fame had spread far and wide. When the prison warden came to see him in solitary, and left with a fresh black eye, the world knew he was ready for the booth again.
This time, the wildest assortment of people came to see him, to tempt him to become angry. All three of his ex wives came, each demanding more alimony, and calling him every name in the book. Former fans and friends came and ridiculed and belittled him in public, calling him a pansy and a moron. One day, they even brought in an entire pre-school class of drooling children to try his patience. But not once, no matter what anyone did or said, did the man yield to anger. Although at times, the veins on his neck stuck out like they would pop, and his face turned purple with suppressed emotion, he calmly smiled, extended the hand of friendship, and ignored everything evil that was said about him. In two weeks he was out of the booth again.
And so, the course of the man’s life went. Over the next several years he went through the same sequence in respect to cars, listening to music, body building, watching movies and TV, shopping, clothing, deer hunting, model train making, academic attainment (he got 3 Ph.Ds before he stopped and became ignorant again), arrogance, money, environmental activism, moods of depression, gaming, and dozens and dozens of other pastimes and emotions and things. He ended up with over two dozen divorces as well, a feat that put him in the record books as the world’s most despicable man in the eyes of women.
The man had achieved his goal. As the years passed and his temples grew gray, he could hold his head high in pride (when the after-effects of his drug addiction would let him), knowing that he had truly become a master of all addictions. He was revered far and wide and received international fame as a man who could not be overcome, no matter what he became addicted to.
One day, after his 32nd divorce, the man received a visit from the religious leader that had saved him by pointing out all the obsessive addictions that he still had to conquer. The religious leader was complimentary of the man’s success, but expressed regret that there was still one addiction he had not conquered—and would not be able to conquer.
Our hero was naturally intrigued. “What is it?!” he demanded. “I must know! There must be no addiction I leave unconquered before my life is through.”
His friend smiled, and said simply, “The addiction of love.” Our hero was speechless. Seeing he had accomplished his goal, the religious leader left, chuckling under his breath at what he knew the man would do.
And he did. After overcoming his shock, he set about to become addicted to love. He knew that the love he developed could not be physically based, or fleeting or hypocritical, but had to be of the sincerest, deepest and most profound kind. He needed to develop true caring and compassion for others, and a loving commitment to people that would make him willing to sacrifice anything for them. In a word, he had to forget himself in their behalf.
It took more effort at first than the man had thought. He visited nursing homes. He helped old ladies across the street. He volunteered in troubled youth homes. He did everything he could think of to become addicted to love, even though his initial inclination was revulsion (because he had never really liked people).
And then, with the passage of time, he noticed a curious thing. His efforts were starting to work! His service and concern for others started to become sincere. He was amazed to find that he really cared! He started to be pained when others were pained. He worried about people, and tried every way he knew to help them, but without being pushy or intrusive. He cried uncontrollably when he saw people suffering. He even went back to his 32 former wives, apologized profusely for the way he had treated them, and begged their forgiveness. (Several of them wanted to marry him again, but the bigomy laws obviously wouldn’t allow it)
And then, when it was obvious he was ready, he went back again to the glass booth. The whole country was watching in joyous anticipation. Never before had he disappointed them. It was certain that, no matter who came into that booth now, and no matter how sad their story, or how much they needed help, or even how much they just needed a soft shoulder to cry on, he would be callous and aloof and crass.
As a stream of pitiful, sincerely needy people were brought to him, our hero watched them with mournful eyes. Tears started to stream down his face. A child who had lost his sight was brought to him, and was shoved into the man’s arms. What would he do? He obviously had to push the child away.
The man groaned. He held his hands over his eyes. He balled like a baby. He got up, rushed over to the wall of the glass booth, and slammed himself into it in agony.
And just as they were about to take the sightless child away, he rushed to him, caught him up in his arms, and held him close.
The spell was broken! An addiction had been found that the man could not seem to overcome! (Or at least, was not willing to overcome) People all over the country were speechless! They had seen the impossible!! Had the world come to an end?
And in one quiet little church house, a religious leader watching the whole thing on TV just laughed and laughed and laughed.
MORALS:
1 If you’re determined to become a master of all addictions, don’t trust anyone having anything to do with religion.
2 Next time you see a man staggering about with an arm that looks like a pincushion, just rush him to the nearest glass phone booth and lock him inside until he reforms.
3 The only addictions we cannot overcome are the ones we decide we cannot overcome. We control them—they do not control us.
