Alec Baldwin sure has lost a lot of weight, hasn't he? Well, if there's one lesson to be learned from this incident with the paparazzi, it is this: pilates rage is real.
I don't have a lot of science to back any of this up, but that has never held me back. I'm crawling through Season 5 of 30 Rock on DVD, and the episodes that aren't damaged by the rough handling of the library patrons show a Baldwin brother emeritus on the doughy side. And, let's face it--we're all a little on the doughy side.
Sometime last whenever because who the hell knows, Baldwin started to do pilates, which is an exercise regimen that builds the core muscles in your gut by working them relentlessly.
Baldwin himself has Tweeted that pilates has saved his life.
Well, I should say, it has "saved" him but it is not a specific enough Tweet to indicate his life, his marriage, his way of getting around in the world, or if it did, in fact, save him from having to go to a more expensive gym.
It is my considered opinion that these workouts turn a person into a clenched ball of rage.
You cannot discount the fact that the common ulcer tends to cause severe abdominal pain, and ulcers are caused by going around with clenched gut muscles and eating things that are full of acid. Stress contributes to ulcers, and sit-ups and holding a 30-centimeter inflated rubber ball between the legs in an upright position while screaming in pain can cause stress. Having to roll forward on a mat while someone in better shape than you howls in distress after expelling everything in their colon through a lycra garment in your general vicinity also causes stress. It is a logical fallacy, perhaps, but it does contain more logic than fallacy to conclude that pilates adds to stress in the period before the person doing pilates actually begins to see an improvement in their physical appearance.
In Baldwin's case, he is noticeably thinner, his hair is looking better, and he has a much more attractive mate these days. He probably has money and notoriety in amounts that are more pleasant to contemplate. But he stands to lose it all by punching photographers. He stands to end up in jail now because his bottled jar of screeching inner rage popped out like a sideboob full of intrigue at the wrong formal dinner party.
The only salvation he has is the pilates rage defense. He must claim that the endorphins and adrenaline running through his system have been sent into spasms of overdrive because of the intense pilates workouts that he has been thinking about doing over the course of the last few weeks. He must begin to lay the groundwork for the common law defense of "pilates rage."
"Road rage" came into vogue years ago, and has served as a useless legal defense precisely because no one could tie it to diet, weight, or exercise. A smart lawyer could succeed in setting a new precedence here if he or she could tie road rage to a parcel of junk science and get a useless judge to rule favorably. If "pilates rage" can be found to be real, and there's no common sense reason why is should, then celebrities might find it useful whenever they get caught on film turning out somebody's lights on a public street in front of, ahem, a courthouse.
Anyone with a law degree should be able to understand where I'm coming from.