Gem: Nicolas Cage’s House
The apocalypse is a fate none of us want to face, after all, it means the end of the world as we know it. Moan as you will about the state of our planet, we’d all rather it was here than not. Should it happen, there’s one film star gaff I’d immediately head to for sanctuary: any of Nicolas Cage’s houses circa 2001 (In this scenario I also have access to a time machine. Hey, it’s my fantasy.)
Nicolas Cage has a lot to offer those of us in peril following the Rapture. First off, he’s madder than the Westboro Baptists outside a gay wedding. There’s no question that his unorthodox acting methods stem from a deep rooted personal interest in the bizarre. Why does that matter? Well, for starters, his homes are secured behind a wealth of security installations. In place to not only protect him from avid fans desperate for a glimpse at Castor Troy, but also to guard his private collections.
Two birds one stone. His mansion could provide shelter, food and protection from gannets after all they can salvage. Well, actually, I’d opt to spend some time in one of his THREE castles. I’ve always fancied settling in the window of a turret, with a glass of Bourbon so rare it’s only been sighted in the jungles of New Guinea while watching a flaming cityscape. My daydreams aside, it would most importantly offer more than enough treasures inside to keep you entertained for years. See, his abode is under strict lock and key due to his gargantuan comic book collection (which, he sold in 2002, hence specifying 2001.) His obsession with graphic stories extends so far his stage name Cage is adopted from the Marvel character Luke Cage, and he even named his son Kal-El. It’s safe to say his collection is not only vast but features a bunch of awesome first time introductions of well-loved icons. This is the kind of vault you could devote years to wandering through.
Where would you head next once you tire of endless reading and crave something else to distract you from the groans of the dying and wounded outside? Well to his Bel Air mansion and its display cabinets rammed full of weird artefacts. It’d be like hanging out in the museum of natural history….with Nicolas Cage as your batshit bonkers tour guide! Hanging out in the billiards room would afford me plenty of time to learn what billiards actually is, while hanging out in his 1955 Jaguar he has set up in it! Scattered around like most of scatter doilies and other useless shite are a genuine dinosaur skull he outbid Leonardo DiCaprio for and a collection of shrunken heads. I mean, if you’re witnessing the end of the world, it’s not a bad spot to learn a tad about culture while wearing fur-lined slippers (which I’m assuming he has for his guests upon entry.)
Of course, after boning up on history it’d be time to take to the garage and test drive one of his many vintage cars. What better way to tell the remnants of the world’s citizens that you’re a big hitter than cruising around an abandoned neighbourhood in a 1973 Triumph Spitfire?
Can you imagine kicking back in his swanky pad, film paraphernalia littering the walls, flicking through rare comic gems before taking a Jag for a drive through the detritus of the apocalypse? To be honest, it doesn’t matter if Cage is home or not. He could be off on a mission to bite the heads off the world’s remaining bat population…I’d be happy kicking back in that turret.
