Only a Handful of People Exist 7: Nicolas Cage

A putrid acting disaster

A snort, a whinny, a stamp of the hoof, and possibly the most irritating rip-off of James Stewart's down-home drawl, introduces you to one of Hollywood's most incurable doses of the clap, Nicholas Kim Coppola. 

Known to the anserine masses hooked on Hollywood tranquilisers as loveable Nicolas Cage, this scrambled-brain simpleton is in actual fact the nephew of his rather famous uncle Francis Ford Coppola. In order to pass himself off as just an ordinary guy during the 1980s he changed his last name to 'Cage'. This also fitted in with his delusional state of mind due to the sad and tragic fact that he thinks he is a super hero like Luke Cage. In reality the only thing super about this clown is his superannuated ego and the sales figure of his comic book collection.

In true time-honoured style this hound- dog faced half-wit was groomed by his uncle who put him into two of his own films to appeal to 80s American yoof. Ping-ponging himself from 'cult' film to 'cult' film, the turgid oaf appeared completely out of his depth and out of orbit. It was then that he discovered the world of blockbusters and cheap and nasty plastic Hollywood scripts. At last he had found his true place in the movies. Not having to play difficult to interpret parts, where he had always consistently failed, but to play himself over and over again, in gut-wrenchingly mediocre form. The slobbering drawl worked its way through truly shocking pap such as Face/Off, Snake Eyes, Leaving Las Vegas and The Rock. 

But the real shite dropped from Hollywood's rectum for the pan slosh of World Trade Centre, possibly the worst movie ever made and also the most ludicrous script ever conceived. Cage gobbled it all up to put himself right on display as the all-American hero saving the day, if not his bankrupted estates, for the whole world to look on in awe.  Here is a man who will do anything to keep himself in the public eye and gorge on his fame for all it's worth. Even if that meant exploiting other people's tragedy and twisting the truth so much it snapped. Cage is the man. The very definition of Mr Corrupt, Shifty and Hypocritical.

The world's worst ever remake of The Wicker Man really showed just how completely talentless an actor you would have to be to make an amazing classic film turn into a vat of steaming excrement. Cage you've done it again my son. Profit over talent. One in a million. Can't wait to read Cage's book on the secrets of his 'acting' technique, which he ridiculously calls 'nouveau shamanic'. As Cage suffers from malapropisms most severe we translate this to really mean 'nouveau shambolic' because Cage is the furthest removed from a shaman you can actually get. 

Here we have a spoilt brat thrust into the starlight despite having no talent, no ability, but a famous uncle who could grease some palms and bring this loathsome snake to the forefront as one of Hollywood's biggest earning 'actors'.

Our 'nouveau shaman' managed to blow his $40 million a year salary and mindlessly forget to pay in the region of $7 million of federal tax. An honest mistake any castle owner could make. It must really be tough to be a multimillionaire like Cage and his non-existent acting skills coupled with his legendary way with the women (2 divorces, 1 marriage lasting for a couple of months, and domestic abuse against his current stepford wife) make him a real loveable chap, just like you or I. 

We can hardly wait to hear about his next divorce, the next property he sells for millions of dollars, the next property he buys for millions of dollars and the next woeful Hollywood blockbuster he stars in. But more to the point we can't wait to see this gangly, pug-ugly faced, drooling, dreary, patriotic redneck dick, shuffle off the planet in a torrent of drug and alcohol abuse in some over sized and kitsch chateau, whilst being filmed by trigger happy Oliver 'utter bullshit' Stone for his latest truth-bending biopic called 'Coppola Cage: Hollywood's plastic shaman'.

Love from Raygun