Terrence Howard says he gave up $1,000,000 of his own salary to help Robert Downey Jr. get Iron Man after prison. Then Marvel cut his pay from $8,000,000 to $1,000,000, the week his mother died.
In the video below, he tells Joe Rogan what happened when he called Downey for help back.
Howard was cast in Iron Man before Downey, and was reportedly the highest-paid actor in the first film.
He says he had a 3-picture deal: $4,500,000 for the first movie, about $8,000,000 for the second, $12,000,000 for the third.
Back then, the studio didn't want to insure Downey because of his past. Howard says he offered to put up $1,000,000 from his own fee so Downey could get the part.
Before the sequel, Marvel came back with $1,000,000 instead of $8,000,000. His agent hung up on them. The role went to Don Cheadle.
Howard says he called Downey 27 times asking for the same help he once gave him, and didn't hear back for 3 years.
Marvel and Downey have never confirmed his version.
Did Robert Downey Jr. owe Terrence Howard, or is that just how Hollywood works?
Aileen Wuornos was a hitchhiking prostitute working Florida's highways for $30 a trick. She killed 7 men with a single gun and zero hesitation. The FBI classified her as the first female serial killer in American history. Charlize Theron won an Academy Award playing her in the 2003 film Monster - grossing $34 million worldwide. They called her the Angel of Death.
Her own lawyer's goal was to get her executed as fast as possible. Her lover betrayed her to the police and tried to sell the movie rights to her story before she was even convicted. She was executed in Florida in 2002.
In the video below, the Angel of Death sits down with 60 Minutes Australia and explains exactly why she doesn't consider herself a serial killer - and why she's completely at peace with dying in the electric chair.
She said all seven men were shot and left. No mutilation. No torture. Just shot. She called that self-defense, not serial killing.
"Did I go out every day and say I'm going to kill someone?" she asked. "It took 12 months."
Her childhood made the courtroom look mild. Abandoned at 6 months old. Raised by an alcoholic grandmother and a grandfather who beat her with a belt buckle. Her father died in jail - doing time for raping a child - when she was two. By 13 she'd been raped and was pregnant. At 15 she was on Florida's highways turning tricks for survival.
By the time she started killing, she said, she'd simply run out of patience for the next man who tried to hurt her.
She waived her right to appeal. Told the judge she'd see him rotting in hell while she was in heaven.
When asked if she was afraid to die, she didn't pause for a second.
"No. This is a wicked, wicked world."
Was Aileen Wuornos a cold-blooded killer, or did the world spend 33 years making her into one before she ever pulled a trigger?
Aaron Carter sold 1,000,000 albums before he turned 10. When he turned 18, he says the IRS hit him with $7.8 million in taxes his parents never paid.
In the video below, he explains what happened to the money he made as a child.
He was the little brother of a Backstreet Boy, opened for the Backstreet Boys and Britney Spears, and had hits like “I Want Candy” and “Aaron’s Party.” His second album sold more than 3 million copies in the U.S.
California’s Coogan law exists to protect child stars, so parents can’t spend their kids’ earnings. Carter says his parents found a way around it.
“When I turned 18 years old, I got hit with 7.8 million dollars of taxes that they didn’t pay when I was 11 and 12 years old.”
He admits he blew the rest himself on cars, shoes and stuff he calls “stupid.”
The kid who sold millions of records ended up doing 500 straight off-Broadway shows for $654 a week, because it was the only place that would hire him. The IRS garnished his wages.
In 2013, he filed for bankruptcy. His court filing showed just over $8,000 in assets and more than $2 million in debts, including a $1.3 million tax lien.
Then came the moment he never forgot. He says the judge gave him a choice: he could send his parents to prison for 10 years each.
“I will never let you put my parents in prison, no matter how dirty they’ve been to me.”
He died in 2022. He was 34.
The case for his parents: he was a child, someone had to manage the money, and he blew plenty of it himself. The case for Aaron: it was his money, and they left him with the bill.
If you were Aaron, would you have sent them to prison, or did they not deserve it?
Richard Kuklinski was a contract killer for the Gambino crime family. He claimed to have murdered between 100 and 250 people. He earned the nickname "The Iceman" because he froze his victims' bodies in industrial freezers for years to confuse medical examiners and make it impossible to determine time of death.
He used guns, knives, crossbows, cyanide, and his bare hands. No signature. No pattern. Impossible to track. For decades he lived a double life in New Jersey as a quiet family man while working as one of the most feared hitmen on the East Coast.
In the video below, Kuklinski sits across from a psychoanalyst in a prison interview - and within two minutes the doctor pushes the wrong button and watches a man who killed over a hundred people start to lose his composure in real time.
The doctor asks how much someone would have to humiliate him before he'd become obsessed with killing them.
Kuklinski doesn't flinch. He says it depends on his mood. If he was edgy - it wouldn't take much. If he was passive - the person might get away with it.
Then the doctor says something and Kuklinski stops.
"You almost made me mad," he says quietly.
The doctor asks what triggered it. Kuklinski says he doesn't know. He feels a little flushed. A little annoyed. Then he says the one thing that makes the whole room go cold:
"I don't think it's gone to the point that I'm actually going to do anything stupid."
The doctor keeps pushing. Asks who used to criticize him most.
Kuklinski doesn't hesitate.
"My father."
A man who froze bodies to hide his crimes, sitting in a prison chair, still flinching at the memory of his dad.
Was Richard Kuklinski born a killer, or did someone make him one long before the Gambino family ever found him?
Richard Kuklinski was a contract killer for the Gambino crime family. He claimed to have murdered between 100 and 250 people. He earned the nickname "The Iceman" because he froze his victims' bodies in industrial freezers for years to confuse medical examiners and make it impossible to determine time of death.
He used guns, knives, crossbows, cyanide, and his bare hands. No signature. No pattern. Impossible to track. For decades he lived a double life in New Jersey as a quiet family man while working as one of the most feared hitmen on the East Coast.
In the video below, Kuklinski sits across from a psychoanalyst in a prison interview - and within two minutes the doctor pushes the wrong button and watches a man who killed over a hundred people start to lose his composure in real time.
The doctor asks how much someone would have to humiliate him before he'd become obsessed with killing them.
Kuklinski doesn't flinch. He says it depends on his mood. If he was edgy - it wouldn't take much. If he was passive - the person might get away with it.
Then the doctor says something and Kuklinski stops.
"You almost made me mad," he says quietly.
The doctor asks what triggered it. Kuklinski says he doesn't know. He feels a little flushed. A little annoyed. Then he says the one thing that makes the whole room go cold:
"I don't think it's gone to the point that I'm actually going to do anything stupid."
The doctor keeps pushing. Asks who used to criticize him most.
Kuklinski doesn't hesitate.
"My father."
A man who froze bodies to hide his crimes, sitting in a prison chair, still flinching at the memory of his dad.
Was Richard Kuklinski born a killer, or did someone make him one long before the Gambino family ever found him?
Charlie Munger thought McDonald's did a better job educating people than Harvard. He wasn't joking.
In 2010, sitting next to Warren Buffett at Berkshire Hathaway's annual meeting, Munger explained why he considered McDonald's one of America's most underrated educational institutions. His argument had almost nothing to do with hamburgers.
McDonald's takes people at the very beginning of their working lives. For many of them, it's their first real job. And before they move on, it teaches them things that are surprisingly difficult to teach in a classroom: show up on time, follow a system, deal with customers, take responsibility and do the job you're being paid to do.
Munger had once made the same argument while speaking at a major university. He told the room: “I thought McDonald's succeeded better as an educator than the people in the university did.”
His point wasn't that people stayed at McDonald's forever. It was almost the opposite. Many started there, learned how to function in a real workplace, and eventually moved on to much bigger jobs. Munger believed McDonald's deserved far more credit for that than it received.
Then Buffett jumped in — and agreed. He said some of the most important lessons of his own life came when he was just 13 or 14 years old, working for a newspaper boss named Charlie Peterson.
Long before Berkshire Hathaway. Long before he became one of the richest men in the world. Buffett was just a kid learning lessons from his first boss that he still remembered decades later.
Munger and Buffett were making the same point from opposite ends of extraordinary careers: sometimes the place that teaches you how to work isn't a university. It's the place expecting you to show up on time tomorrow morning.
Ted Bundy murdered at least 30 women across 7 states. He drove them in a Volkswagen Beetle - same car, same smile, same routine. The FBI called him the most organized serial killer in American history. Netflix made a $30 million series. Zac Efron played him on screen. He was executed in Florida in 1989.
His little brother Rich was 12 years old, rafting rivers with him on weekends, sitting in the back seat of that same Volkswagen, thinking his big brother had everything figured out.
In the video below, Rich Bundy tells the story of the moment he realized Ted had sent him home early to go murder someone.
They were at the airport. Rich was upset - Ted had cancelled their plans out of nowhere, no explanation. As they waited to board, Rich glanced over at his brother's face.
Ted was staring into the distance. Horrified. Disgusted. By something only he could see.
Rich didn't understand it then. He does now.
Ted had been loading the Volkswagen with rope, handcuffs and a crowbar before their trips together. He would pick up young women on the same roads they drove. Rich was in the back seat for some of those drives without knowing what the bag in the trunk was for.
Ted sent him home that day because he felt the urges coming and didn't want his little brother in the car when it happened.
That one decision broke Rich completely. He spent decades sitting alone in a camper, sometimes not leaving for three days at a time. Can't hold a normal life together. Says he's gotten used to jimmying his way through existence.
Ted protected him from one night. The knowledge of what that night was destroyed the rest of his life anyway.
Was Rich Bundy a victim of his brother, or did surviving that family come at a price nobody could have paid?
Peter Scully was an Australian crminal sentenced to life in prison plus 129 years. His victims were children. The youngest was just 18 months old. He held young girls captive, subjected them to horrific abse, filmed his crimes, and distributed child exploitation material to offenders around the world. After fleeing Australia, he operated in the Philippines until authorities finally arrested him in 2015.
When they caught him, prosecutors from 60 Minutes to the FBI called him the most depraved individual they had ever encountered in over two decades of law enforcement.
In the video below, a reporter from 60 Minutes Australia sits face to face with Scully inside a Philippine maximum security prison - and describes it as the most disturbing moment of her 26-year career.
She refused to watch his videos before the interview. She said once you see something like that you can't unsee it. Colleagues who did watch them were visibly traumatized for days afterward.
Sitting across from him was worse than she expected.
He was smug. Arrogant. He smiled at her questions. When she asked about remorse he paused, looked her in the eye and said: "That's a good question. Well done."
She walked through the house afterward. Up the same stairs those children were taken up. In broad daylight. With a police officer beside her. She said even that was enough to make her skin crawl.
There was a shallow grave in the yard.
Interpol. The FBI. The Philippine National Police. It took three major law enforcement agencies to bring him down. What finally broke the case was a single local officer following a gut instinct nobody else believed in.
The reporter said she got to go home after the interview. She wasn't sure how long his smugness lasted after she left.
Some people sit across from you and you understand immediately that the word "monster" was invented specifically for them.
Peter Scully was an Australian crminal sentenced to life in prison plus 129 years. His victims were children. The youngest was just 18 months old. He held young girls captive, subjected them to horrific abse, filmed his crimes, and distributed child exploitation material to offenders around the world. After fleeing Australia, he operated in the Philippines until authorities finally arrested him in 2015.
When they caught him, prosecutors from 60 Minutes to the FBI called him the most depraved individual they had ever encountered in over two decades of law enforcement.
In the video below, a reporter from 60 Minutes Australia sits face to face with Scully inside a Philippine maximum security prison - and describes it as the most disturbing moment of her 26-year career.
She refused to watch his videos before the interview. She said once you see something like that you can't unsee it. Colleagues who did watch them were visibly traumatized for days afterward.
Sitting across from him was worse than she expected.
He was smug. Arrogant. He smiled at her questions. When she asked about remorse he paused, looked her in the eye and said: "That's a good question. Well done."
She walked through the house afterward. Up the same stairs those children were taken up. In broad daylight. With a police officer beside her. She said even that was enough to make her skin crawl.
There was a shallow grave in the yard.
Interpol. The FBI. The Philippine National Police. It took three major law enforcement agencies to bring him down. What finally broke the case was a single local officer following a gut instinct nobody else believed in.
The reporter said she got to go home after the interview. She wasn't sure how long his smugness lasted after she left.
Some people sit across from you and you understand immediately that the word "monster" was invented specifically for them.
In 1985, Carl Sagan sat in front of the United States Senate and described the weather of 2026.
Not as prediction. As physics.
Sitting across from him was a junior senator named Al Gore — who would later win the Nobel Prize, the Oscar, and build a climate investment fund worth over $36 billion repeating almost word for word what Sagan said that afternoon.
Sagan opened with Venus.
470°C surface temperature. 900°F. Hot enough to melt lead.
"Not because it's closer to the sun," he told the senators. "Venus actually reflects more light than Earth. It should be cooler."
The reason it wasn't: carbon dioxide. A runaway greenhouse effect that turned a planet nearly identical to Earth into a furnace.
Then he looked at the committee and said: we're running the same experiment here.
The senators nodded politely.
Then they went back to approving fossil fuel subsidies.
What Sagan told Congress in 1985:
Global average temperature will rise several degrees by mid-to-late next century.
Local climates will redistribute.
Glaciers will melt. Sea levels will rise.
And the problem cannot be solved by any single nation — not even if the US and Soviet Union agreed on everything — without China.
China, he said, had the world's largest coal reserves and was about to industrialize.
Every sentence was correct.
He also said something that got almost no coverage at the time:
"The initial stages of global temperature increase — one region might benefit while another suffers."
That is the sentence that explains the last 20 years of geopolitics.
Canada's growing season expanding while Pakistan floods. Russia opening Arctic shipping lanes while Bangladesh disappears. The politics of climate was never going to be clean because the physics wasn't distributed evenly.
Sagan mapped all of it from first principles, in a Senate hearing room, 41 years ago.
The part nobody quotes
He didn't say stop burning fossil fuels immediately.
He said: "That has such severe economic consequences that no one will take it seriously."
So he proposed something else — remove government subsidies from fossil fuels, accelerate solar, develop safe nuclear fission, and begin building international frameworks before the crisis made them impossible.
That's not an environmentalist's speech. That's an economist's.
Carl Sagan wrote 20 books. Cosmos was watched by 500 million people across 60 countries. He won the Pulitzer. The ideas in this testimony became the scientific foundation for a carbon market now valued at over $800 billion annually.
He said one line at the end that nobody remembers.
"We are all in this greenhouse together."
In 1985, that was poetic.
Now it's a weather report.
The full testimony is free on YouTube. 17 minutes. Almost nobody outside of climate policy circles has watched it as a complete predictive model — laid out in plain language before any of it happened.
Warren Buffett disowned his granddaughter in 2006, writing that he had never accepted her as his grandchild, legally or emotionally.
Buffett has largely avoided publicly discussing what happened between them. In the video below, Nicole Buffett tells her side of the story.
Nicole had grown up as part of the Buffett family after Warren’s son Peter adopted her. She visited Warren in Omaha, called him Grandpa, and Warren’s wife Susan even referred to Nicole as one of her “adored grandchildren.”
But being the granddaughter of one of the richest men in the world never meant living like one.
Warren paid for her education, but Nicole didn’t have access to his fortune. She worked with children at Family Human Services in San Francisco and built her own life while carrying one of the most famous surnames in American business.
Then their relationship fell apart after Nicole appeared in The One Percent, a documentary about wealth inequality.
She later received a letter from Buffett telling her that he had not emotionally or legally adopted her as a grandchild, and that the rest of his family had not adopted her as a niece or cousin either.
One detail made the letter even more painful.
Buffett signed it simply “Warren.”
Nicole still had a card from only a year earlier signed “Grandpa.”
One of the richest men in the world had spent years as her grandfather. Then a letter told her he no longer considered himself one.
Do you think Buffett had the right to draw that line, or did he take it too far?
Save the video to finish Nicole’s story later, and follow for more heartbreaking stories from behind the lives of the world’s most famous billionaires.
In 1993, Jeffrey Dahmer was 33 years old, serving 999 years inside a maximum security prison in Wisconsin. Three guards escorted him everywhere. One on each arm. Handcuffs on at all times. The most dangerous human being in America - kept alive only so he could rot in a cell.
This interview was never meant to be seen. It sat in the Inside Edition archives for 30 years.
In the video below, a monster wearing a human face sits across from journalist Nancy Glass and answers the one question nobody expected him to answer honestly.
Are the urges still there?
He paused. Then said he wished he could tell her they were gone. But no. Even locked inside concrete and steel, serving nearly a thousand years - the compulsions that turned him into a predator were still hunting inside his head.
He didn't kill out of rage. Not out of hatred. He said he killed 17 men because he wanted to keep them. That the obsession grew until skulls and skeletons weren't enough. Then came cannibalism. Spoken the same way a normal man would describe a habit he couldn't shake.
He asked for several breaks during filming.
His hands wouldn't stay still the entire time.
Fourteen months after this interview, another inmate killed him in prison. When asked what he deserved, Dahmer didn't hesitate for a second.
"I deserve death," he said.
Some people are beyond saving. Some things wear a human face and never were one.
Was there ever a version of this story that ended differently?
David Bowie sold over 140 million records. He invented three different musical personas that each defined an entire era. Rolling Stone called him the most influential artist of the 20th century. He turned down a knighthood from the Queen of England because he didn't think he deserved it.
In the mid-1970s he was also consuming so much cocaine that he later said he remembers almost nothing from that entire period. Not the albums. Not the tours. Not the interviews.
This is one of those interviews.
In the video below, the most creative mind in rock history sits across from a journalist and explains, completely unprompted, how to destroy a city.
Black noise, he says. A specific frequency that shatters everything it hits. Available in the French Patent Office until recently for about three or four dollars. A small device could kill four people in a room. A large one could level an entire city.
The interviewer stares at him.
Bowie moves on to Machiavelli. Then Diane Arbus. Then Frank Zappa naming his son Moon Unit. Then his own son Zowie. Then his wife Angela's thesis on everything. Then a book about the Trans-Siberian Express he may or may not be writing.
At one point he offers the interviewer a part in his next show.
This is the same man who wrote Heroes in a single afternoon. Who created Ziggy Stardust, Aladdin Sane, and the Thin White Duke from scratch. Who produced Iggy Pop's two greatest albums while barely sleeping.
He survived the decade. Cleaned up. Made ten more classic records.
The cocaine almost took all of it. The talent was just bigger than the damage.
Was he a genius who almost destroyed himself, or did the destruction make him the genius he became?
Poker legend Phil Ivey lost to an amateur with an 83% chance of winning the hand. That amateur won $2.5 million and helped bring a generation of paying opponents into poker.
In the video below, Ivey relives the moment an ace ended his tournament and explains what he was trying to hide from the cameras.
“Do not show how disappointed you are, do not let the world see this.”
Ten players remained in the 2003 World Series of Poker. Ivey went all in with a full house against Chris Moneymaker, an accountant who had qualified online. The final card gave Moneymaker a better full house.
Ivey finished tenth for $82,700. Moneymaker went on to win the title, giving everyone watching at home a reason to believe they could beat the professionals too.
New players flooded into poker. For experienced pros like Ivey, that meant more opponents with money and little experience. Poker sites grew, sponsorship deals followed, and Ivey benefited from the boom.
Years later, he also admitted he should have folded earlier in the hand. He could acknowledge his mistake even though the eventual outcome helped his industry.
When an amateur beats the best and everyone rushes to copy him, who really makes the money: the newcomers, the professionals waiting for them, or the casinos taking a cut either way?
The us government tested two auction formats on real debt and barely saw a difference
ian ball, mit 14.12, economic applications of game theory, revenue equivalence.
then the theorem. different auction formats, under stated conditions, pay the seller the same expected revenue.
then the real test. the treasury switched 2 and 5 year note auctions to a uniform price format in 1992, replacing the old multiple price format.
then the result. spreads to market yields landed close for both, about 0.41 versus 0.22 basis points on 2 year notes, 0.33 versus 0.23 on 5 year notes.
then the twist. only the multiple price format showed a real premium to the government, so uniform pricing edged out slightly ahead, not dead even.
watch the moment he lays out the exact conditions the theorem needs to hold.
the two formats were never identical. they were close enough that the government switched.
In 1986 a guy got kicked out of every casino in Vegas for counting cards. So he flew to Hong Kong with $180,000 and started betting on horses instead.
He walked away with almost $900 million.
It was Bill Benter.
He realized horse racing was just another counting problem same math, more moving parts.
He and a partner built a computer model that estimated the true odds of each horse. If his numbers showed an edge, he bet. If not, he skipped it.
That’s the whole trick:
Expected value.
EV = p · b − (1 − p)
Only bet when the probability of winning × the potential payout is greater than the chance of losing.
What’s even crazier is that Benter once gave a 45-minute lecture explaining the math behind his system.
That recording was never supposed to become public.
And almost nobody knows it exists.
This is the lecture that professional bettors and hedge fund analysts studied.
The answer is in this video.
Sam Altman invited Peter Thiel to Stanford to teach a lesson most entrepreneurs still ignore.
His message?
“Competition is for losers.”
In his famous 2014 Stanford lecture, Thiel explained why the biggest businesses don’t win by fighting competitors.
They win by building something nobody else can offer.
Stop asking how to beat your competition.
Ask yourself:
What can I build that makes competition irrelevant?
Because the goal isn’t to win the same game.
It’s to create a game nobody else can play.
Sam Altman invited Peter Thiel to Stanford to teach a lesson most entrepreneurs still ignore.
His message?
“Competition is for losers.”
In his famous 2014 Stanford lecture, Thiel explained why the biggest businesses don’t win by fighting competitors.
They win by building something nobody else can offer.
Stop asking how to beat your competition.
Ask yourself:
What can I build that makes competition irrelevant?
Because the goal isn’t to win the same game.
It’s to create a game nobody else can play.
The anecdote is real and well-documented: Joel Greenblatt ran a weekly investing class for ninth graders from Harlem, had them guess the count of jelly beans in a jar twice.
Once called out loud (avg. guess: 850) and once written privately on cards (avg. guess: 1,771, against an actual count of 1,776). His line: “the stock market is actually the second guess.” Two independent write-ups both quote this from the same talk, “Distinguished Speaker Series: Joel Greenblatt,” a CFA Society Chicago luncheon from December 5, 2018.
But I could not pull its actual captions or transcript this session, so I can’t personally confirm the exact wording and timecode from the footage itself, only from two secondary blog paraphrases. That fails rule 4 (“quotes are verbatim or they do not ship... pulled from a transcript or the frames that were actually read”), the same wall I hit on Griffin and Soros earlier in this session.