Welcome to The Pagodium — the unedited, uncensored, and wholly inspiring platform where IndyCar-ish personalities don’t have to answer the usual allotment of boring, bullshit questions. Nothing’s off-limits here. Except for anything I deem tedious and/or trite. Or Marty-Reid-ish.

In short, it’s kind of like an online version of “The Tom Snyder Show.” But with more peyote-fueled banter. Less homoeroticism. Equal amounts of handsome.

And obviously, we’ll begin this groundbreaking series with Tony Kanaan. Partly because he’s one of the six people alive who regularly read the Pagoda … but mainly because he’s the Brazilian Carl Weathers. Inconceivably fierce and majestic and proficient with large caliber weaponry.

The Pagodium is yours, Mr. Kanaan.

(And for the record, the bolded sections are Tony’s verbatim answers to the emailed questions. Signed affidavits to this effect are located in the Pagoda Front Office, and are available for review upon request. The Silent Pagoda welcomes the filing of any and all libel suits on this matter. As you were.)

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Let’s start with the one question EVERYONE is asking themselves here: Have you ever granted an interview request to a shittier, less-professional, more decrepit looking media outlet than the Silent Pagoda?

Yes, actually, with a local newspaper in Brazil. My dad had to pay them to do an interview with me. For the record, I am not charging the Silent Pagoda for this interview.

Fantastic. Because frankly, we could have only paid you in discarded lobster claws from Kroger, loose pesos, and 19th century poetry citings. Let’s dig in a bit here. Two part question: When did you first consider impaling a weather vane through Jack Arute’s chest? And secondly, what kind of weather vane was it? (A cow? A rooster? One of those kind-of-racist black-faced jockeys carrying a lantern? Do tell.)

With my poor English, I do not understand the question.

Reading between the lines here, it was a maritime-themed weather vane — a schooner of some sort, probably — roughly 0.038 seconds after first meeting Arute. Well played. Moving on, I’d be remiss if I didn’t throw this out there: When can we expect to see some hookers and knife-throwing midgets in your critically acclaimed V-Blog? I mean, this is America, friend. And in America, we prefer our video blogs laced with whores and dagger-wielding little people (AND — if time permits — inebriated donkeys, violent kicks to the groin, and footage of Emilio Estevez burning in effigy).

I will film a segment when I go on my next trip to Brazil and you will see all of that. It will be the V-Blog BR.

Brazil … the Cradle of All Things Awesome. Always and forever. And I guess while we’re on the subject, when was the last time you told Michael Andretti in Portuguese that he “smells of llama piss” because you didn’t like the car’s setup?

In Texas.

Oh. [awkward silence] Okay. You and the Pagoda are in the same shoddy boat, I see. If only you were given the essential tools and setup to succeed — you know, the mere basics that even “The Pit Boss” and Marty Roth receive. I hear you. It f–king blows, certainly. But that’s not why we’re here. THIS is why we’re here: You, Roger Penske, a Kodiak bear, and Jason Bourne enter into a 4-man cage match to the death. Who walks out the victor? Who’s the first to go down? Be honest.

I will be the victor. The Bear will go down first. Then, while Roger is talking to Jason about business, trying to convince him to open a dealership where they will sell Penske chassis, I will hit them both in the head.

Yep. That’s pretty much how I saw it going down too. (Assuming, of course, that you repeatedly smash Bourne and Penske over the head with the lifeless bear carcass.) Now to the single most polarizing question of our generation: Biggie or Tupac?

Tupac for sure. Still ballin.

Agreed. And as an aside, Tom Carnegie is the only IndyCar person I’ve met who’s staunchly in Biggie’s camp. I’m not necessarily saying he’ll get “taken out,” exactly. I’m just saying it’s a concern. And speaking of concerns, Danica keeps calling the Pagoda Front Office and, frankly, has become a bit of a nuisance. Can you tell her to chill the f–k out?

I’ll make sure to pass along the message.

Much obliged. Lastly, after you win the Iowa race, do you plan to give a shout-out to the Pagoda?

With the way the year is going, I hope I can still win and give the Pagoda a shout-out. I hope you don’t kick me out. I’m going to start a Silent Pagoda fan club and I will be the first member.

A fan club, eh? That may be the shot-in-the-arm we’ve been looking for. That and the ability to italicize words. F–k it. We’re in. We WILL get you atop the mountain. We’ll be the Tenzing to your Sir Edmund Hillary. And when we do, the entire populace of Brazil will rejoice, your fellow Manwolf species will once again roam the plains with pride, and all glory will go to the Pagoda. Then we will feast.

So it shall be.

Godspeed, Tony.