In Memento, a severely disturbed Guy Pearce wonders if “the world disappears when you close your eyes.” I hope that the severely disturbed career of Mike Tyson is over by the next time I open mine.

Perhaps the whole Mike Tyson saga is attributable to a short-term memory deficit like Guy Pearce’s in Christopher Nolan’s Academy-snubbed thriller. Perhaps Iron Mike just has no idea what he’s doing at a given point and lives life in brief, incomprehensible bursts. Even a movie plot might not be able to make sense out of Tyson. But then again, maybe it could.

Think about it.

You’re Mike Tyson, and you’re fighting men in suits for some reason. One of them—Lennox Lewis—looks at you. You don’t know why he’s doing this, and you don’t know how many times you’ve done this before. You don’t want to do it again. You have to end the cycle, now, and something tells you that a good way to take care of the situation would be to reach over and take a big bite. Why not? It’s almost as if you’ve done it before…

You’re quickly advancing on Lennox Lewis. You figure that if you—Mike Tyson—are advancing quickly toward an angry-looking reigning world champion, you’re probably about to fight him. All right, then. Let’s go. You’ll ask questions later—including a few about the well-dressed men surrounding you, and the fact that there isn’t a boxing ring in sight.

You’re at a press conference for your upcoming Lennox Lewis fight. Lewis’ hangers-on give you lip, and if they’re going to do that, they’d might as well do it to your face. You start to walk over.

Cameras. You’re at what appears to be…yes, a press conference. Everyone’s looking at you. Were you saying something? Yes, and from the looks of things, it was something pretty inane. You’ve done this before, you think. Act normal. Playing along. Might as well not disappoint anyone. “I’m an animal,” you scream. “I’m the stupidest person in boxing! I gotta get outta here or I’m gonna kill somebody!”

People are looking at you like you’re crazy. All right. Play along. Say something bleepin’ crazy. “I want Lennox Lewis,” you scream. “I want to rip his heart out! I want to eat his children! Praise be to Allah!”

You’re Mike Tyson, and you’re getting beaten up. No idea why. You feel that maybe this has happened before, like maybe you did something wrong last time. What to do? Act normal. Fight back. Just close your eyes and keep fighting. So you do, and when you look up you have not only beaten up professional-ragdoll Lou Savarese, but you’ve taken out the referee as well.

Why is there human flesh between your teeth? Evander Holyfield is surrounded a few feet away from you, being tended to by a medical staff. Why is his ear bleeding? Who did this? The flashbulbs and the sea of wide eyes offer a compelling clue…

You’re Mike Tyson, and you’re getting beaten up. Where are you? No idea. You can’t see. Somebody’s raining blows down on you fast and hard. You taste blood and blind instinct takes over. You reach over and open your mouth…

Hey, you’re in handcuffs! You’ve been convicted of sexual assault! Meanwhile, reporters ponder the most inexplicable smile since the Mona Lisa.

You’re Mike Tyson, rolling with your entourage, and for some reason the photographers are working overtime on you tonight. You smile for them and try to wave, but your movement’s restricted…

You’re on the canvas, having been knocked out by Buster Douglas in 1990. It’s madness.

There you are, surrounding by flashing bulbs and screaming Japanese. What’s going on? Where am I? Am I fighting? And what’s that whooshing sound…