Rocco's Pop Revolution: Seen through the eyes of someone living it

I guess we lose them one way or another.

Ryan Gosling’s Esquire Magazine is that moment. I tearfully write this post. It’s as if just a few short days ago Ryan Gosling was all hipster and breaking up fights on 14th street.

First off, let’s get into these creepy as pictures and then a diorama he gave the interviewer for inspiration. I kid you not… he bestowed a creepy 3rd grade project on a reporter. *tear* We lose them so fast!

Ok. So that’s pretty weird, but he’s an actor. Actors are weird and crave attention. I get it. But his interactive diorama project that portrays his haunted child hood home, makes me afraid to enter a long-term relationship with Ryan Gosling, which was one time a thing I prayed for at night.

And not to mention (this will really stop your hormones from leaking out for him) the interview. Here are some quotes:

“because I’m lucky enough to have easy access to not one but two Halloween stores. I bought a bunch of masks yesterday.” Gosling shows a curious reverence for certain traditional supernatural icons — ghosts, skeletons, hauntings in general. For weeks he has exchanged e-mails with the photographer who took the pictures for this story, hoping to direct the shoot as a means of exploring his self-revelations.

I really just want him to guest star on Ghost Hunters. I mean, if you’re gonna be a freak… let your freak flag fly and go balls to the wall, ya know??

Know this much about Ryan Gosling: Man loves candy. He speaks of it the way rich men discuss wine; he picks it from the shelves like he’s working piano keys. He knows where it lives on the racks — low or high, above what display, betwixt whatever chocolates squat there. (Gosling has no use for chocolate.) Five stops at bodegas, and one at this 7-Eleven, and in each case Ryan Gosling sniffs out the florid Japanese gelatin as if he lived on the block, as if he shopped there every damned day. Its very presence seems to comfort him. “This is the stuff,” he says, in aisle two of four. Then he piles them on the countertop. Kazoozles atop Nerds Ropes, twin packs of Hi-Chews, green apple and grape. He also feels strongly about Haribos, especially the multiflavored bag. “I like to call this the next level of candy,” he says, with a thready graveness in his voice, either mocking seriousness or giving, in fact, a serious mocking. Over and over again, he uses his eyes to say: Are you with me? More enthusiasm, even as he goes on. “Hi-Chews! Look at these! It’s the candy that never quits on you. This candy is always worth the price. There used to be a candy called Bonkers, which I believe to be the greatest candy of all time.” He pours coffee for both of us, with as much sugar as he can get in, and turns to the register before he continues. A girl stands at one end of the aisle, holding her phone up for a photo of him unaware. “For some reason, they discontinued Bonkers. These are good, you’ll see,” he says, holding up the Hi-Chews. Then he hands me my coffee and says with a smile, “Sugar till you die.”

I know that’s a lot to read, but pretty much he loves candy so much that he transformed into a white version and sexy version of Michael Jackson. Hopefully, minus the letting children sleep over thing.

This all upsets me so much. Someone in Hollywood please cast this guy in a comedy… he’s losing it. If I see him and James Franco hanging out together, I’m staging an intervention.

-Rocco