Monday, October 26, 2009

JAMIE DELANO INTERVIEW (1)

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JAMIE DELANO – one of the most important and influential modern comics writers – is coming to the Belgrade Book Fair 2009.
He will be taking part in a panel devoted to him on Saturday, 31. October (Yes, on Halloween), and will have several comics signings and other activities on Friday and Saturday.
Honoring our guest and preparing our audience for this historical event, I'm glad to have the opportunity to publish this great interview on The Cult of Ghoul blog.
The interview was conducted by the well known Serbian translator and comic books fan, Draško Roganović. Previously it was only published in Serbian, in the fanzine EMITOR. This is the first time this interview is made available online, and in its original English form.
Many thanks to Draško Roganović for sharing this with us!
Since the interview is really long and thorough, I decided to divide it into two parts. Here comes part I:
* Draško Roganović: I’d like to thank you, Mr. Delano, for agreeing to do this interview

- JAMIE DELANO: You’re welcome. Thanks for your interest and the thoughtful nature of your questions, many of which require essay-length responses to do them true justice. I can get pompous and convoluted enough in précis, so I’m sure in-depth answers would bore most readers numb. Forgive me therefore if my responses seem a little arbitrary and I leave you to “read between the lines”..

* First off, bit of an odd question to ask a professional comics writer, but: do you even read comics? If so, which ones? Any other writer in the field that you admire or enjoy his/her works?

- I have enjoyed reading some comics from time to time over the last 20 years or so, but I would have to admit, a little shame-faced, perhaps, that I am far from a dedicated consumer of the medium. Then again, these days I am not a dedicated consumer of any medium. Perhaps I read too many books as a young person, sickened myself with The Word. Or maybe, as one becomes a producer, the need to consume withers away. Who knows…? Maybe I’m just arrogant and lazy. I am encouraged by the relatively recent move towards the publication of comics in an “original graphic novel format” from major companies such as DC Vertigo. It has for a long while been my contention that – for mature readers at least – this is the best way to present graphic fiction and to make it available to a wider mainstream audience through both high-street and online booksellers. Most of the miniseries I have written would, I feel, have benefited (and indeed were conceived and created in the expectation of it) from presentation as OGNs rather than, to my mind, irritating monthly “pamphlets” punctuated with inappropriate advertising and available only from “specialist” retailers.

* Unlike most of the writers in your line of work, you don’t have the default “loved comics since i was a child” secret origin. Do you think that lack of hero worship is what kept you, for better or for worse, from becoming like the rest? Apart from John Constantine, who you can’t seem to shake off, will we ever see you take on a character who wasn’t created by you? (though, one can argue that Constantine IS your creation) Would anyone want to read Jamie Delano’s Spider-man?

- Not having a background in comics “fandom” (unlike many of my contemporaries) has probably been more of an advantage to me than otherwise. There is a distinct whiff of incest pervading sections of the medium that I have occasionally found distasteful – inevitable, to some degree, in any genre creativity, I guess, but in comics this is often suggestive of lack of experience of the wider world, rather than a selective devotion to the strictures of a particular art-form. That said, my general ignorance and inattention to ongoing developments in the medium doubtless means that I have overlooked many exciting and worthwhile works.
Spider-man…? It might offer marginal amusement, I suppose, but the pain (not least the creative constraints that inevitably accompany a “high-value property”) would outweigh the pleasure. I have written a few “company-owned” characters in the past – usually as a result of an inability to say “no” and when offered the liberty to employ them as a medium through which to express my own current preoccupations - and have usually been able to find an angle with allows me to sustain my interest long enough to achieve a, hopefully, satisfactory outcome, and I would never rule anything out completely. Generally though, my continuing interest, such as it is, is in the development of original works.

* You entered the field of comics as a bit of a late bloomer, at the tender age of 29 (if my research is correct), almost accidentally. Was being an outsider beneficial, did it provide a different perspective, giving you a chance to develop your individual writing style early?
Apart from Alan Moore’s helping hand, who else influenced the way you were writing comics, when you started? Which authors are you influenced by now?

- Hah! 29 might seem a late age to start a career to one still young, but 25 years on, it feels like I was barely off the teat. Moore gave me a few useful “rules of thumb” to apply to the craft of scriptwriting – but his most valuable act of friendship was to give me the benefit of his insight and enthusiasm for comics as both a valid medium for self-expression, and one which offered a rare opportunity to sustain oneself through the craft of writing. I always had the vague intent to one day be a writer, but, without this “kick up the arse” probably would not have got beyond the stage of mustering a growing collection of “previous employments” with which experience to impress putative readers on the dust-jacket of an imaginary novel.
Whatever a writer’s history and origins, however, he must have an interest and awareness of the “mundane” world if his voice is to be genuine and his fiction have any ring of truth. Like teachers, I believe, writers should be forced to suffer a few years toil at the “real-world” coal-face before being allowed to put pen to paper.
Alan Davis – with whom I worked on Captain Britain, one of my earliest attempts at strip work – taught me a lot about visual story-telling, the scope and limitations of the comic medium. I have learned a few tricks from working with David Lloyd, also, on books such as Night Raven, The Horrorist and The Territory. Nor can the astute but relaxed editorship of Karen Berger be discounted as influential.

* It wasn’t long before you “revolutionized the medium” with your work on Hellblazer, promo pieces claim you “helped usher in Vertigo”... Do you “accept the blame”, so to speak, do you feel your work had an impact on an entire industry?

- Hmmm… I’ll accept my share of the blame, I guess, along with contemporaries at Vertigo, such as Morrison and Milligan – but if anyone must be cursed with the title of revolutionary it is Moore, of course. My own idiosyncratic work may have helped foster the existence of the small, pseudo-literary ghetto that is Vertigo, “but impacting the entire industry” would be way too grandiose a claim.

* Before you became a professional writer, you were driving cabs, experimenting with drugs, and even done a bit of wheeling and dealing on the grey market. Has any of this given you an insight, outlook that you think you otherwise wouldn’t get? How much of your work derives from that?
- As I hint above, a writer without insight and experience of the world about which he writes will pretty soon find himself with nothing left to say. The “world” and the human relationship with it, is the raw material for all fiction, processed by the writer through the lens of his imagination – the quality of his understanding, therefore, influencing the integrity of his work. My own success, or failure, in that endeavour must necessarily be adjudicated by others.

* Now for a standard, comic-booky question – What if Jamie Delano hadn’t become a writer?

- A scary thought: without writing as a means through which to – as Story Johnson puts it in Outlaw Nation, I believe – “make sense of the senseless”… attempt to make impotent the bad craziness of human existence by imagining its worst outrages and containing them on a page, I would probably have turned inwards, inhabiting a much darker and more intense reality than that which I currently enjoy. It’s possible I would have found an outlet for the intrinsic “anger” that I suspect sustains me, through some species of political activism or radical journalism… or maybe I’d have learned how to make bombs. As it is, I’m an ineffectual scribbler… a quiet family man, tending slow-growing cacti as a hobby and helping to school (indoctrinate) my grandchildren in the skills that I hope that they may yet need in order to “change the world”.

* Do you feel you’re still an outsider in the field of comics?

- Heh. I generally feel like an outsider in which ever field you put me. Kind of like it that way. Never been a “joiner”. I’m not with any special interest group, or, in general terms, against any either – and I resent being told I must choose. My philosophical approach to existence… politics… culture… is phenomenological. Call me an unhealthy pervert, but I really prefer just to watch and take notes, and hope to see the funny side.

* Will we ever see a Jamie Delano novel? Your narration (evident from your work on Hellblazer, Outlaw Nation) always had that descriptive, but not overly verbose prose quality, and you yourself claimed that you started writing with novels in mind.

- A completed novel would be a long-standing ambition/expectation fulfilled. I’ve started a couple. Don’t know why I never finished them. I suspect maybe I have too much emotionally invested in the idea to want to risk fucking it up. Comics seem far more disposable, somehow – there’s always another chance to do it right… so far, at least. It’s a counter-productive hang-up that I should develop a strategy to combat. I’m needlessly precious about it – after all, a novel is only another string of words…

* Do you do a lot of experiments with your storytelling techniques? How do you approach writing a comic?

- I’m not consciously experimental when composing a story. Structures usually suggest themselves as the work gets underway. Characters and their need for drama, either of situation or ideas, drive the development of any story for me: it’s an instinctive rather than conscious process. A story is kind of like a hopeful journey. The starting point defined, the route and even the final destination are infinitely variable, the writer shepherding his unruly flock of players in a desperate search for coherence. Sometimes this is achieved, to a greater or lesser degree: sometimes the whole sorry crew is just left stumbling about in the mire of unrealized potential.
For me, all scripts begin with a mood and the germ of an idea which must be encouraged into a full blown disease, revealed in the void of a blank PC screen. These days, the hardest part is removing myself from all the more preferable distractions which detain me, and isolating myself long enough in my grubby, stale tobacco-smoke imbued, office to get the computer booted-up and a calming cannabis cigarette rolled to accompany the large mug of espresso I still imagine that I require to fire my tired brain. If I am able to quickly achieve the required fine chemical balance, and get my fingers into keyboard thinking mode, then all will be well, and some species of story will begin to appear on the page. More spliffs… more coffee… and the momentum will become feverish, the characters will take over and the story will write itself. Later, I will feel like shit from caffeine and THC overdose, but retire content that WRITING has been done. If every attempt were productive, then perhaps the industrial injury required would be worth it. More likely though it will take a week of false starts, coughing and jangled nerves at least before the magic fingers dance.
* You have been working on several screenplays. What are the chances of seeing them realized anytime soon?

- Currently slim to nil, I suspect – although there is some interest in developing several of my previous works for the screen, I am involved in these in only an executive capacity. I have enjoyed experimenting with movie writing though, and may do more of it in the future.

* Your views on writing and writers are especially bleak – the writer as a dysfunctional alien to our world, a scrupleless, social parasite, feeding off of other people’s misery (not to mention his own), for survival and enjoyment. What brought out this attitude? When did it become apparent to you?

- My family and people that know me might well characterise me as someone who has always had a needlessly cynical propensity to dwell on the dark side of human existence as opposed to cherishing its more uplifting tendencies. I suspect my posture is self-defensive, the tactic of a secret, wannabe optimist desperate to avoid disappointment.

* Your works have always been fueled by the local and global political events and injustices, which is evident even in your rare forays into superhero comics. For you, is writing more about telling a story, or conveying a message?

- As I have said, writing for me is a means of making sense of the senseless, a vain attempt to reduce the struggle of existence in a chaotic world to manageable proportions… the madness simplified, encoded in human-scale dramas constrained on a comic-book page. I hope that the stories I tell are more about providing access to arguments than proselytizing a “message”… although, as individuals, my characters are often entrenched in their own worldviews.

* Over the decades John Constantine has been your on-again, off-again soapbox, personal demon and Freud’s couch all rolled into one. Why keep coming back to him? Has your relationship and attitude changed in the past two decades?

- My relationship with Constantine as a character is a strange one: classic love/hate. Sometimes I get sick of the sound of the irritating bastard’s voice (too close to my own, I suspect) but nonetheless, returning to his world, as it seems I inevitably must from time to time, is always akin to slipping on a comfortable old pair of shoes. I think it’s true to say that, without the opportunity to develop Moore’s character through the pages of Hellblazer in those early years, my career in comics would have been limited… no other character would have provided the chance to develop my voice in the same way.
Why keep coming back to him? I can’t help it. And, perhaps if I’m honest, I take a dubious pleasure in re-asserting some kind of “ownership” from time to time. While the character is strong and multi-faceted enough to support the visions of multifarious other creators and, as a professional writer, there is little profit in resenting the creativity of others, I have to admit to a certain, deep-buried, indulgent, possessiveness.

* Did you ever think of Hellblazer as a horror title? In hindsight, would you do anything different with the character, if you could go back and change it all?

- By nature of its supernatural themes and the extremity of its drama, I guess you’d have to say that Hellblazer is overtly a horror title. That said, horror fiction has always offered opportunities through which creators can explore more mundane concerns, codifying social and political trends through the conventions of the genre.
As a writer I am never content with the body of my work. I’m acutely aware that stories could always have been more successfully realized. It’s frustrating as hell, and of course you’d do it differently another time around. But what’s done is done, for good or ill, and I wouldn’t change a word now.

* Have you been reading Hellblazer over the years, and if so, does it feel strange reading someone else’s interpretation of the character? Is there someone you would like to see take on J.C. as his (or her) mouthpiece?

- I’ve looked at it from time to time but, for reasons suggested above, I haven’t immersed myself too deeply in the varied continuity. It could feel a little weird, assimilating another’s take on the character, but you need to maintain some detachment. I tend to think of Constantine existing in parallel universes, each variable existence recorded by a different observer. As to who I would like to see put words into Constantine’s future mouth… is there anyone left who hasn’t had a go? Anyway, all my favorite writers are dead now (well almost – Ballard is still clinging on… just)..

* Your very strong critique of Thatcher’s rule is one of the things that set Hellblazer apart from other comics. How are things in the UK now? After 20 years, is there any improvement?

- Improvement…? Jesus – compared to the way we live now the Thatcher era was positively cozy. All the shit we feared she was preparing the ground for has come to pass with a vengeance. Unbridled globalised Capitalism… a full-blown surveillance society… steady erosion of civil liberty and the right to dissent under the pretext of defence against “terror”… The 21st Century has started out ugly and I don’t see a whole lot of prospect for improvement. For the sake of my grandchildren I might wish to be proven wrong… but the world is generally going the dismal way I imagined it would thirty years ago.

* What is your most personal work during your Hellblazer run?

- I think probably Hellblazer #35 “Dead-boy’s Heart”, a story detailing a formative episode from a pre-teen John Constantine’s life, makes best contact with that intrinsic “truth” that as a writer I search for.

* As the series progressed, your stories became more complex, subtle, introspective. Do you feel that you’ve grown as a writer during your time spent writing Hellblazer?
You have some recurring motifs, such as The Golden Child, a physically, mentally and even morally superior, almost perfect twin that emphasizes the protagonist’s imperfections, flaws and the downside of humanity (Adam and Ethan in 2020 Visions, John Constantine’s stillborn twin). Does the concept fascinate you?

- I hope that I’ve grown as a writer throughout my career – across all my work, as well as within the realm of Hellblazer – otherwise I’d feel I’d wasted my time. One practices one’s craft constantly in the (doomed) pursuit of perfection, learning, inevitably, along the way to tolerate, and even love, the flawed reality.
Perhaps this sense is the root of the Golden Child concept you accurately identify as significant in my work.

* Just like Alan Moore, you too have “met“ John Constantine in real life?

- We passed once on the street – in London, outside the British Museum. Each of us half-turned in vague recognition to the other, mouths parting as if to essay speech... then closing as – not finding suitable words – we both turned and walked away.

* During your early issues of Hellblazer, you were experimenting with adding “backmatter”, little fake newspaper articles or song lyrics from Constantine’s fictitious band to add more depth to the stories and the character, similar to what Alan Moore was doing with Watchmen. Why did you stop that?

- I’m not sure. It wasn’t a conscious decision. Possibly laziness… or crude pragmatism. Starting out, pent up inventiveness feels undammed… but it quickly becomes apparent that an ongoing monthly series requires all the creativity one can muster just to sustain its continuity. Potential material is hoarded, rationed… squandering it on amusing but unnecessary adornment soon seems profligate.

* By creating Chas, the grumpy but faithful cab-driver you’ve given Constantine a perfect counterpoint, an anchor to the real world. Did you know he was voted Best Supporting character at the National Comic Awards held at the Bristol Comicon a few years back? How did he came to be? Was he, at least in part, a product of your taxi-driving experiences?

- Chas is kind of my mildly subversive take on the classic hero’s sidekick. He is the butt of Constantine’s wit, his long-suffering gopher, loyally supportive, constantly at his beck and call… but he is also Constantine’s anchor in human reality, his ground to earth… the one character with license to access Constantine’s human truth, to identify and abuse his weaknesses… to disabuse us of his mystique. The relationship between Chas and Constantine is complex: I’m not sure I even understand it properly… but it can probably best be defined as “love”.
The most ugly crime of the movie “Constantine” was in its reduction of Chas to a gibbering cipher. The best moment was when the devil terminally slam-dunked the irritating little creep.
I’m pleased the character achieved recognition with a National Comic Award – thanks for that information.
Making Chas a taxi driver was probably in part an homage to my previous existence, but also a pragmatic decision to provide the character with an appropriate milieu with which to facilitate his dramatic function.
I understand that a miniseries featuring Chas as lead character is due soon from Vertigo. I’m interested to see how the story treats with him. I know it’s going to look good: Sudzuka is drawing it.

* In The Horrorist, we see Constantine deal with your unique take on terrorism – a manifestation, product of wars, terrors and injustice, a terror elemental, almost. Was this theme a growing concern of yours? Why the decision to make the Horrorist a female?

- I guess The Horrorist is female largely because I wanted to play the story as a literal dark romance – explore Constantine’s pseudo-sexual desire to “feel the pain” again through the medium of an obsessive, irresistible lust for the cruel edge of suffering personified in flesh and blood form – and it would have added a needless layer of complexity if the romance was to be gay.

* In the end, Constantine manages to overcome his jadedness and emotional numbness by facing with the Horrorist, and once again embraces compassion, empathy. Was John Constantine (and for that matter, were you) in dire need of this exorcism of self? And is such a transformation, on a global scale, needed to stop and prevent further horrors throughout the world?

-Empathy is a writer’s stock-in-trade, honing our capacity for it a pre-requisite for the sincere practice of the craft. Empathizing too frequently with the harsher realities of the human experience can leave the psyche feeling a little raw. As with paramedics, emergency workers, magicians, etc., writers can tend to develop a defensive callousness in their attitude to the world in general, their “compassion” increasingly professional. It’s no bad thing to undergo an emotional skin-peel from time to time, I guess.
Hmmm. I don’t know if that answers your question, or not… or even makes sense. You decide.
Universal empathy…? Sounds like an evolutionary ideal… but imagine the excruciating terror humanity would undergo achieving it.

TO BE CONTINUED

A ako baš kuburite s engleskim, ovaj isti intervju možete pročitati na srpskom u STRIP EMITORU br. 6. a manji odlomak iz njega je, na srpskom (pa još na ćirilici) i u POLITIKINOM Kulturnom Dodatku!

Sunday, October 25, 2009

PIGHUNT (2009)

JIM ISAACS

**(*)

3-

PIGHUNT je jedan veseli mali hororček skromnih ambicija, ali sasvim dobar u tome što pokušava – a to je, da zabavi narod nekim otkačenim likovima i situacijama.

početak nije baš obećavajući, ali savetujem da stisnete zube i izdržite. protagonisti su svi odreda nesnosno iritantni: glavni junak je kreten sa neprekidnim samouverenim smeškom na njušci; njegova riba je neka mongoloidkinja (ružna azijatkinja), kao slikarka; a sa njima u lov (!) idu još i njegovi ratni drugari – iritantni mongoloid, iritantni crnja i iritantni debeljko koji sve vreme cvili, kuka, zapomaže, gnjavi i ponaša se kao (nažalost) neinvalidirani brat frenklina iz TCM-a. njima se, kada stignu u šumu, pridruže i dva redneka: iritantni baja koji izgleda kao aca lukas sa vrlo masnom kosom i vrlo lošim zubima te neprestano iskrivljenim ustima, i njegov burazer koji me povremeno podsećao na stivena džefrisa, dakle kao neki vrlo redneck evil ed.

špica i početne scene nagoveštavaju da bi PIGHUNT, kao, hteo da se bavi i nekim ozbiljnijim temama vezanim za nedavne američke ratove u inostranstvu, ali sem jedne dobre dosetke sa ratnim veteranom – prosjakom na ulici, ništa se dalje od toga ne napravi. uvod i razrada traju predugo: podjebavanja ovih kretena u šumi nisu sasvim lišena sirovog duha ('you look like a homeless person', kaže jedan drugome, a ovaj mu odvraća: 'you look like rambo's favorite fuck-bitch!') ali ipak to uzima previše vremena i polagano počinje da smara.

takođe, pošto je ovo ipak low budget, imamo waaaay tooo much of the good ole 1st person camera umesto pigzille koja bi trebalo da bude glavni monster ovde. znači, divlja svinja – od milja zvana ripper – od tonu i po, vidi se nešto malo tek u poslednjih 10ak minuta. pre toga, imamo pomenutu kameru u vrlo skromnim, nimalo reimijevskim lunjanjima kroz šumu, i nešto malo regularnih svinjčića i prasića od po jedva 50 kila žive vage.

stvari, međutim, značajno ožive negde iza 45. minuta, kada jedan od redneck braće popije metak u grudi, a onaj drugi otrči nazad familiji i onda ovi zađu u šume gladni krvi i osvete. tu počinje zabava. pre svega, ovi redneci su izvanredno kastovani i kostimirani. imaju čitav arsenal originalno sadističkog oruđa i oružja. voze neka blesava rukopravljena kolica (nešto između dirty diane i skromnijih uradaka iz MAD MAX II). a scene u kojima oni, onako besni, jurnu u šumu vrede same po sebi gledanja: ta nepatvoreno ludačka vožnja kroz šumetine, ti zaista opasno izgledajući stantovi sa motorima, i sjajna režija tih kadrova stvarno su moćni! zabava se nastavlja i kada redneci sustignu ove 'naše', ali tu već neću da spojlujem. there will be blood, to je dovoljno reći.

sledeći zabavan twist zbiva se kada preživeli dođu u hipi komunu koja u tim krajevima gaji marihuanu (ovo se sve dešava u nekim šumama vrlo blizu san franciska, jer ovi u lov odlaze preko golden gejta), i taj sudar redneka i hipija i lovaca + džinovske divlje svinje zaista vredi videti. naravno, moglo je iz te fore da se izmuze i malo više, ali fuck, ja kako sam se nadao, i ovako sam se dobro udao.

klimaktični obračun sa ripperom jeste skroman, i ograničen sa 2 faktora: 1) reditelj, JIM ISAACS (JASON X!), očito nije hteo niti jedan kadar CGI efekata u filmu, što je vrlo respektabilno, tako da su svi efekti kreatura i maske – praktični, opipljivi, a ne u kompjuteru crtani; 2) no, zbog malo para, nisu sebi mogli priuštiti da prave celu svinju, nego samo glavu, što drastično ograničava scene borbe sa njom, svedene na niz krupnih planova. zbog potonjeg, ta mega-svinja se kreće previše sporo za takvog stvora, što šteti ubedljivosti i saspensu obračuna s njom, jer se ta borba svodi na akciju uzbudljivu koliko i šamaranje paraplegičara u kolicima sa zarđalim točkovima.

no, zbog autentično 'prljavog' i down to the basics pristupa stvarima, spreman sam da ovome progledam kroz prste. PIGHUNT je jedna sasvim pristojna zajebancija, i ako joj priđete u tom duhu, ima tu sasvim dovoljno mesa za jedan solidan mesožderski obrok. možda ne baš tona i po, ali nemojmo preterivati. meso je meso.

ISTINITE LAŽI – izašle!



ISTINITE LAŽI – izašle!

Nema laži, nema prevare - zbirka priča o urbanim legendama Istinite laži sa radovima 21 domaćeg pisca, izašla je iz štampe!

Bila je najavljena još za jun, ali je ipak još malo dozrevala preko leta, i evo je sada, u mnogo adekvatnijoj atmosferi, usred jeseni, pod sumornim i kišnim nebesima, i uoči Halloweena! Prava literatura za pravo vreme.

Zbirka, u izdanju beogradskog "Paladina", nastala je tako što je Skrobonja od brojnih pisaca naručio priče inspirisane urbanim legendama, primenivši isti postupak kao u slučaju prethodne zbirke "Beli šum" (2009) koja je za temu imala televiziju.

Skrobonja je rekao agenciji Beta da će "Istinite laži" moći da se kupe u beogradskim knjižarama "Beopolis" u Domu omladine Beograda, i u "Alanu Fordu" na Novom Beogradu. Na Sajmu knjiga, zbirka će moći da se nađe na štandovima "Tardisa" i "Delfija".

Urbane legende u "Istinitim lažima" imaju veze sa trajanjem košave, hobijima Gorana Bregovića, kultnim Klubom studenata tehnike (KST), gradom Vršcem, beogradskim taksistima i lagumima, fantomima u prestoničkom noćnom prevozu, tajnama veštačkog jezera kod Zvornika, nasleđem rata u Bosni, partizanskim filmovima, somovima u jezeru Jarun, sektama u podzemlju velikog grada, staricom koju pojedu njene mačke, itd.

Nasty naslovnica zbirke, koju je ilustrovao Ivan Nastić, prikazuje devojku sa krvavom, grubo ušivenom ranom na leđima - što je motiv insprisan urbanom legendom o ljudima koje neko napadne iz zasede, onesvesti i na njima operiše, tako da se probude bez bubrega, uklonjenog radi transplatacije. Btw, ideja za ovu koricu je (c) by Ghoul!

Skrobonja je u uvodniku naveo da je autorima pružio slobodu da, ako žele, sami izmisle urbanu legendu o kojoj će pisati. Tom prilikom sam se, recimo, okoristio za moju priču "Sekta prljavih". Barem se nadam da je sekta iz ove priče samo plod moje prljave mašte!

Da podsetim, sadržaj ove zbirke je sledeći:

1. Ilija Bakić - KULA U RUŽI VETROVA
2. Darko Tuševljaković - DOK NE DOĐU ŠEJTANI
3. Adrijan Sarajlija - ABRAKADABRA
4. Jovan Ristić - GODINE U MAGLI
5. Nikola Petrović - DEVOJKA U BELOM
6. Vladimir Lazović i Miroslav Lazović - MUZIKA SRCA
7. Milivoj Anđelković - TRIDESETI DAN KOŠAVE
8. Vesna Ilić - ISTINITE LAŽI, ili REČ-DVE O BACANJU KOCKICA
9. Petar Petrović - 'AJDE DOBRO, SVAKOM SE TO DESI PONEKAD, AL' TI, TI GA BAŠ PRETERA, BRATE ili Gotovo je mojih pet minuta
10. Oto Oltvanji - LEPŠE NEGO PTICE
11. Goran Skrobonja - POKLADE
12. Aleksandar Žiljak - JURA
13. Marko Pišev - GOSPODIN PEPERMINT
14. Ivana Milaković - ČELJUST KOJA DRŽI PRST
15. Zoran Pešić Sigma - TAJNA KOLIBE OD PEČURAKA
16. Spomenka Stefanović Pululu - MARA
17. Ivan Nešić - ODRAZI U RETROVIZORU (BLIŽI SU NEGO ŠTO SE ČINI)
18. Dejan Ognjanović - SEKTA PRLJAVIH
19. Dejan Mujanović - KUĆA LJUBAVI
20. Marjan Cvetanović - MANASTIRIŠTE
21. Zoran Ćirić - NOĆNA KRETANJA

Čim pročitam knjigu možete ovde očekivati moj surovo objektivni i potpuno istiniti osvrt, a do tada, kao teaser, evo kako počinje moje zlodelo:

SEKTA PRLJAVIH

Dejan Ognjanović


Omnis qui bibit hanc aquam, si fidem addit, salvus erit.

(Ko god pije od ove vode, a veruje, biće izlečen.)


Ponedeljak prepodne


Stojim na mostu. Mobilni je na ogradi. Ispod, reka se penuša, blatnjava od nedavnih kiša.

Contacts: Options: Delete.

Brišem imena i brojeve, jedan kontakt za drugim.

Reka huči, kao i automobili iza mene. Vibracije mosta utapaju se u tu blago uspavljujuću, gotovo hipnotičku auru brujanja.

Stavljam mobilni na ivicu ograde. On drhturi na vetru. Kupila mi ga majka, da uvek može da me čuje kad poželi.

Gledam oko sebe. Niko me ne primećuje. Svako hita svojim poslom.

Srednjim prstom guram telefon i on odleti ka reci: smeđi talasi smesta ga progutaju.

Delete

Osetim se lakšim, kao da sam sa sebe zbacio teg.

Zurim u vodu što se valja poda mnom, privlače me njena snaga i moć. Da li je to jedini način da postanem deo nečeg većeg od sebe?

Delete: Annihilate

U reci se stvaraju mali vrtlozi. Grančice se kovitlaju u njima. Plastične pivske flaše tonu i ponovo izranjaju iz talasa.

Sa leve ruke skidam časovnik: poklon od oca. Da uvek znam koliko je sati.

Buć!

Vadim novčanik. Cepam ličnu kartu (oduvek sam mrzeo tu odvratnu fotografiju u njoj; to nisam ja, nikada to nisam bio!), i ushićeno je bacam. Ispisuje spirale kroz vazduh dok pada u blatnu vodu i nestaje. Cepam papirne novčanice, pretvaram ih u raznobojne konfete i gledam kako ih vetar nosi ka vodenoj površini. Izvrćem džepove i sitniš bacam za tim. Ispražnjen novčanik nehajno bacim malo dalje. Na kraju – ključevi od stana. Uz buć! koje više zamišljam nego što ga zaista čujem i oni nestanu kao da ih nikada nije bilo.

Delete

Reka je veća od svega, ona guta sve i prekriva sve, ona upija i nosi, ona preliva, ona teče, ona ostaje. Čak i most koji se nadnosi nad njom drhti od njene snage.

Da joj se pridružim?

Korak, odavno sanjan, sada lakši no ikad.

Ali, nešto me zadržava. Osećaj bestelesnosti me prožima. Meso, kosti i iznutrice pretvoreni su u eteričnu izmaglicu. Preobražen sam u sablast, i ova vrsta egzistencije odjednom mi prija. Želim da je još malo istražim. Da ispitam ovo novo stanje. Da razmrdam ove mišiće od ektoplazme. Da vidim kuda će me odvesti.

Gde god. Šta god. Reka je uvek tu.

Ona nikud ne žuri, a razloga za žurbu nemam ni ja. Ovako lagan nikada se nisam osećao. Ovo je za mene nova senzacija. Nekako, nemam srca da je prekinem.

Možda je to samo izgovor. Možda je to samo kukavičluk. Ali nije me briga. Večnost ništavila mi ne gine. Za čas ili za dan, ono je tu.

Do tada, bez ikakvih planova ili namera, bez strategije, bez cilja, vrzmaću se dok mi ne dosadi. Jer dosada, taj bauk koji mi je do ovog sivog jutra ispijao svaki čas postojanja, sada je iščezla. Zaintrigiran sam. Lagan sam. Najednom želim da se prošetam svetom, ovim novim svetom u koji sam ušao onog časa kada sam pokidao i svoju poslednju vezu sa njim.

Saturday, October 24, 2009

GOD'S PUZZLE (2008)

TAKASHI MIIKE


**(*)

3-


predugo su za ovaj razbrbljani film krcat mudrijaškim dijalozima bili dostupni samo neupotrebljivo imbecilni, mehaničko-mašinski 'prevodi'. prvu pojavu pristojnog prevoda proslavih premijernim prikazivanjem ovog produkta, pa sada predstavljam prikaz.

GOD'S PUZZLE je teen drama za geek zaluđenike matematikom, fizikom i astro-fizikom. zvuči nelogično i nepraktično – otkad pa taj soj uopšte ide u bioskop? – ali jedino alternativno objašnjenje bilo bi da je ovde miike rešio da se malo glupira ozbiljnim pitanjima, i da naizmenično glumi 'pamet' i sprda se sa istom, a vezano za krajnja pitanja vasione.

u samoj premisi nalazi se zametak nečega što je svakako godilo miikeu – a to je ideja da je naš svet daleko od savršenog (blago rečeno) i da možda ne bi bilo loše ovu gomilu sranja zameniti nečim boljim. a ako u tom procesu ova gomilica strada, well, what the hell. to je sentiment s kojim mogu da saučestvujem, a javlja mi se da može i miike. iako se on ne poziva na blejka, u suštini to je etitjud koji bi za moto mogao uzeti reči williama blake-a: 'you must either create a system of your own, or be enslaved by another man's.' moto glavne junakinje GOD'S PUZZLE-a mogao bi da glasi: 'you must either create a universe of your own, or be enslaved by this cthulhu nonsense bullshit one.'

dakle, jedna cura koja kao da je izašla iz filma sion sonoa (i.e. with a lot of ISSUES!) istovremeno je teen-genijalka koja bi da jedan akcelerator čestica u obliku znaka za beskonačno ( ) upotrebi za igranje boga, tj. stvaranje novog univerzuma, bez obzira na posledice po ovaj. no, sve je ispričano iz perspektive jednog simpatično-blesavog zgubidana koji je zalutao na studije fizike (tačnije, zamenjuje svog brata-blizanca, koji je otišao na putešestvije po indiji u potrazi za mudrošću!). baš zato što je autsajder za svet fizike, on ume da povremeno postavi i neko razumno pitanje koje 'studioznima' i 'ozbiljnima' ne bi palo na um, pa se tako stvara zanimljiv duet u kome su lupetanja i zaista komična (ne)snalaženja ovog momka neki od hajlajtova filma.

ono što nije zanimljivo jeste nehumano predugačak razgovor – u trajanju od bar 20 minuta, usred filma – o pitanjima teoretske fizike, koji nije toliko neshvatljiv koliko je neinteresantan i nesvrsishodan. ništa bitno ni za zaplet ni za likove ne otkriva se u tome, nego je pre svega jedan netipičan miikeovski exces i iživljavanje. zapravo, i likovi i njihovi međuodnosi postavljaju priliku za mnogo interesantniji film nego što miike na kraju isporučuje, a to važi i za 'spektakularnu' završnicu na akceleratoru – koja prosto nije dovoljno zanimljiva niti uzbudljiva.

ljubitelji uvrnutosti zarad uvrnutosti svakako će više od mene ceniti to što miike usred kvazi-saspens scene sve okrene na zajebanciju i ubaci rock-n-roll tačku, ali ja moram priznati da sam u ovom filmu uživao samo sporadično, dosađivao se ponegde, i sve u svemu, iako je to vredno i neobično gledalačko iskustvo, svakako ne spada u vrhove takashi miikea. miikeovo polu-sprdačko bavljenje velikim pitanjima u, npr. IZO-u bilo je daleko uspešnije, i u smislu ideja, i prosto filmofilski gledano.

zato i ovako srednjačka ocena. fino je to, ali nekoherentno, neujednačeno, površno i – blentavo.

Friday, October 23, 2009

MY BIG AMERICAN ADVENTURE (10): povratak sa juga, i Uskrs


U ovom nastavku videćete
-neke fotke sa poprišta većih bitaka iz američkog građanskog rata (ah, ta divna vremena kada su svoju pohlepu i krvožednost utaživali koljući se međusobno, umesto koljući i bombardujući druge... tamo, daleko od sebe...),
-još par završnih impresija sa Juga,
-te opis autentične proslave Uskrsa kod jedne druge moje USA domaćice, Liz, u njenoj slatkoj kućici na obali...

Povratak

Poslednji dan na Jugu (četvrtak) Džon je bio tako fin da nas liši svog prisustva na putešestviju. Objašnjenje je bilo da je svakodnevna vožnja i jurnjava počela da ga iscrpljuje, šećer mu raste, ovo ono, hteo bi jedan dana natenane da odmori u Ronijevoj kući i šetnji po okolini, umesto da pođe s nama. Meni je bilo jasno kao dan, a malopre mi je Stef to i explicitno potvrdila: u pitanju je bio njegov hir, čin prkosa, način da pokaže neslaganje sa činjenicom da smo Stef i ja bili kolovođe, a da on sve vreme samo kaska u pozadini, povređene sujete što niti odlučuje kad i gde se ide, niti koliko se ostaje, niti šta se tamo radi, itd. Bilo je to obično durenje razmaženog deteta, ali nas je time toliko 'pogodio' da smo bili skroz opušteni tog poslednjeg dana, i zezali se bez brige o tome da li hodamo prebrzo, da li bi Džona zanimalo da uradimo ovo ili ono, da li smo se previše zadržali u biblioteci na netu, itsl.

Roni je, istina, pošao s nama, ali ovog puta sam ja sedeo napred, i ćaskao sa Stefani. Roni je bio srećan dok god je imao svoju pauzu za pušenje s vremena na vreme, a sve ostalo je trpeo sa stoicizmom matorog buckastog glodara koji kroz dimove nikotina nadgleda sve te prolazne priče o davno iščezlim indijancima i njihovim krhkim tvorevinama. To je bio dan u kome smo obišli Poverty Point, i najveći deo vremena proveli vozeći se u turističkom mini-vozu (otvorenom) u kome je vodič, samo za nas troje, nadugačko i sa ljubavlju pričao o tom lokalitetu, vozio nas okolo, penjao se s nama na 'pticoliku' humku, itd. Imajući u vidu da ovaj čovek već par decenija priča ovu istu priču 3 puta dnevno, bio sam zadivljen odsustvom mehaničkog, neunesenog prepričavanja: stvarno nam je sve to pričao kao da to po prvi put u životu čini, išao u detalje, provaljivao se, itd.

Vratili smo se nešto ranije no obično da bismo imali vremena za komotno pakovanje i da bi Roni (a na moje traženje) raspalio roštilj. Tako i bi: večerali smo stvarno predivna rebarca na roštilju (u stvari, to je golo meso, bez kostiju, ali skinuto sa rebara); ovaj Roni je, kao i većina samaca, stvarno moćan kuvar. Šteta samo što je lečeni alkos, pa ni on nije imao vina u kući. Ja napravih manji faux pas na njegovo pitanje da li bismo nešto popili uz večeru, ali preko mog traženja vina se brzo i lako prešlo. Oh, well, šta se tu može.

Dok sam čekao večeru gledao sam THE KISS OF DEATH (novu verziju B. Schroedera) na TV: ništa posebno, ali dovoljno gledljivo da nije sasvim ubijanje vremena. Ali William H. Macy je tragično miscast u gl. ulozi. Tokom večere navratio je Bili sa devojkom i drugarom da se pozdravi s nama: nije večerao, već je otišao u kuhinju sa muškarcima gde su uz pivo pričali neko vreme dok smo Stef i ja gledali film. Ovi ubrzo odoše, a nakon filma i ja, onako prijatno popunjen fino spremljenim mesištem, odoh u postelju.

Povratak je prošao glatko i bez naročitih avantura: Roni nas je odveo na jedno fast food mestašce u blizini aerodroma, i tamo smo doručkovali oko podneva. Avion je poletao u 14.00 h a mi smo predali prtljag i završili sve što treba još oko 12.30. Ja sam vreme ubijao čitajući onu Nan Madol knjigu (koja na kraju ispade neupotrebljiva za moje svrhe, jer taj drevni grad ipak ni izdaleka ne podseća na ono što meni za roman treba). Dan je bio topao, čak vruć, ali naravno aerodrom je air-conditioned. Letovi su prošli glatko, i bilo je beskrajno uživanje posmatrati mora oblaka ispod sebe dok smo preletali čitav američki kontinent. Naravno, bilo je i velikih deonica bez oblaka, pa se moglo uživati u raznolikim predelima skroz dole. Kad smo uveče stigli u Berkli bila je izmaglica sa okeana, i znatno svežije. Bio sam srećan što sam napokon 'kod kuće'.


Uskrs

Sa Liz (mojom drugom domaćicom – u obližnjem Oaklandu - vidi sliku) sam se dogovorio da me do njene vikendice odbaci Lisa, njena drugarica, koja će tamo ići popodne, oko 16 h. To mi je više odgovaralo od opcije da tamo idem sa Liz, ujutro u 10, što je prerano za moj bioritam. Tako i bi: u sunčano i prelepo popodne Lisa je došla ispred I-Housea i pokupila me. Tačnije, vozio je njen sin. Simpatičan momak, krupan, osunčan, zlatokos, fudbaler i surfer, blago-blentave face.

Kad stigosmo u Lizin beach house, dve mlade djeve tamo zatekosmo u malenom bazenu na porchu iza kuće, koji gleda ka laguni. To su bile Moli, Lizina ćera (svecka putnica, upravo stigla iz ture po Evropi; inače, ima napadno bubuljičavo lice koje bi i bez toga bilo… hm, neprivlačno) i njena prijateljica, ex-babysitterka, izrazito ružna Mexikanka od one drevne, astečke fizionomije neoplemenjene evropskom krvlju. Razmenili smo učtivo ćaskanje o tome ko smo i šta smo i bla bla, ali ništa iza toga. Inače, čim smo prišli brdu iza koga se nalaze Muir Woods i skroz dole Stinton Beach – ušli smo u maglu. Sasvim druga klima u odnosu na ono što ostavismo u Berkliju. U početku sam bio razočaran, hteo sam sunce na obali, ali ubrzo počeh da se primam na taj gotski ugođaj. Jedino je hladnoća bila pomalo neprijatna, budući da sam krenuo u kratkoj majici, i sa sobom poneo samo jedan dux dugih rukava, koji nije bio dovoljan. Dodatno se smrzoh kad videh ove dve u kupaćim kostimima kako se brčkaju u bazenu, NAPOLJU! Voda je, naravno, zagrejana, ali opet… nisu celim telom uronjene u vodu. Brrr…

Lizina vikendica je u skroz fancy privatnoj naseobini u koju se ulazi kroz kapiju sa čuvarem, tako da ne može svaka šuša da bane u blizinu imanja ovih bogatuna. Te kuće vrede u proseku između 2 i 4 miliona, i to se uglavnom i vidi. Prijatno mesto, mada ja tu nikad ne bih živeo: kažu da stalno imaju tu maglu koja dolazi s okeana. A i previše su natrpani, jedni do drugih: i pored ograda i zidova i svega, ipak tu nema dovoljno privatnosti za moj ukus. Sama kuća je vrlo prijatno mesto, sa finom baštom okolo (rastinje i cveće u njoj ne prepoznajem, sve neka lokalna vegetacija), i sa pomenutim izlaskom na vodu, tj lagunu. Vrlo prijatan prizor kroz francuski prozor, direktno na vodu, i brda u pozadini.

Ubrzo smo mi mlađi krenuli u šetnju ka okeanu, pod izgovorom da vodimo mnogobrojne kučiće (3 Lizina, 1 Lisino, i 1 od Lizinih nemačkih suseda koji su nam se tamo takođe pridružili). Za to vreme su žene spremale večeru. Šetnja je bila izuzetno prijatna, iako je nebo bilo na samo 50-ak metara iznad nas, a ja morao da obučem preveliku Lizinu jaknu u kojoj sam sigurno izgledao kao kreten (ali mi je barem bilo toplo)! Pario sam oči na lepim vilama koje su se prostirale s obe strane ulice, a vrlo brzo se nađosmo prvo pored lagune, a onda i okeana.

Bila je oseka, i na plaži su bile gomile nečega plavog. Prvo sam pomislio da su u pitanju neke alge itsl. morske trave; kad priđoh bliže, shvatio sam da se radi o milionima nasukanih meduza, utamanjenih svakodnevnom surovom božanskom šalom genocidnih proporcija. Milioni i milioni života nasukanih na obalu neživota pukom besmislenom ćudljivošću Tvorca. Gazio sam po lepljivim, ljigavim stvorovima dok su pseta razdragano trčala po pesku. Huka zapenušanih morskih talasa koji su se razbijali o obalu činila je sasvim prijatnu zvučnu pozadinu pod oblačnim nebom i između brda u izmaglici. Plave umiruće meduze bile su jedina živahnija boja u tom gotskom sivilu. Na plaži je bilo još nekoliko ljudi žena i dece koji su šetali pse, pa čak i nekoliko surfera koji su se lomatali po talasima.

Kad sam se vratio nazad, počeo sam nešto malo da razgovaram sa Debi, Lizinom simpatičnom, buckastom sestrom, i dopali smo se jedno drugom na prvi pogled. Shvatio sam da je ona daleko nekonvencionalnija i zabavnija od Liz (koja je divna žena, ali preterano normalna za moj ukus). Pričala mi je o svojim putovanjima po svetu, naročito po Indiji, gde je išla van svih turističkih ruta i uobičajenih lokacija, rizikujući i život i sve po krajnje neprohodnim deonicama, među ljudima koji nikad nisu videli belog čoveka, a kamo li ženu. Vrlo zabavna žena, skroz otkačena, u najboljem smislu reči. Da se ne bih dosađivao sa ovima dok čekam večeru, ponudih se da pođem s njom do radnje (kolima, naravno) po foliju. Tu se još malo zbližismo uz smeh…

Večera je bila opuštena, i vrlo prijatna: najzad malo prave hrane kod ovih Amera, a da nije na Jugu. Roštilj, šnicle, kobasice, pristojna zelena salata… i, ovog puta, odlično crno vino (Merlot). Posle svega toga nekako sam našao mesta i za 10-ak krupnih jagoda prelivenih čokoladom… Naravno da sam i ovog puta bio najsporiji od sve dece, ali me to nije toliko sekiralo jer sam se osećao među svojima, i jeo sam natenane. Dve preslatke ćerčice ovog Nemca nas izljubiše pred spavanje, a ubrzo se i ostali povukoše u svoje odaje. Meni je bila dodeljena 'dnevna' soba, koja je odmah uz kamin imala ležaj koji gleda ka francuskom prozoru i pravo na lagunu. Predivno mesto. Slušao sam neko vreme vidre (!) kako se dozivaju u noći, a onda zaspao. Kad sam se ujutro probudio, prvo što sam video bila je prelepa laguna pod izmaglicom…

Pre doručka sam se malo zezao sa kaminom u kome su spaljivane novine i kartoni, malo se šetao ivicom doka i posmatrao sprud koji je izronio pod osekom (sada su se vidre gegale po njemu), a malo se igrao sa Debinim kučetom koje mi je posebno priraslo srcu nakon što sam čuo njegovu tužnu priču. Naime, tog prelepog, velikog zlatnožutog psa prethodni gazda je tukao i izgladnjivao, i u jadnom i bednom stanju je nekako završio kod Debi, koja ga je dovela u normalno stanje. Normalno, ako ne računamo to da je i sad sirotan vrlo bojažljiv, i da cvili u snu.

Nešto malo sam listao Lizine art-slikovnice, a onda dođe vreme za Uskršnji lov na jaja (egg hunt), što je ovde uskršnji običaj (umesto tucanja). To obično rade deca i mlađi, ali pošto sam ja zaostao u razvoju, a i gost sam, koji nikad u životu nije učestvovavo u ovako nečem – dadoše i meni korpicu, kao i ovim dvema curicama, pa krenusmo po avliji da tražimo 'peraške' koje je Liz tog jutra sakrila na raznim strateškim mestima. Bilo je zabavno, iako sam ja popuštao devojčicama, koje su se baš primile i vrištale od radosti čim bi našle neko jaje. Moram da priznam da ih je Liz dobro i lukavo sakrila – na kraju je bar 5-6 komada ostalo nepronađeno, i to će tu i ostati... Ja sam sakupio 9. U korpici su već bile čokoladice i bombonice, sve to lepo ukrašeno trakama i čipkama i koječime, pa je baš bilo simpatično. Nadam se da dobijem slike koje je onaj Nemac načinio dok smo lovili jaja, mora da su zabavne – ja, mator, sa decom tražim jaja po avliji. (Update: Nemac mi je kasnije dao CD sa slikama, lai je to tako nevešto 'narezao' – tj. nije – da slike nikada nisam dobio kako valja.)

Onda dođe doručak (pristojan, kobasice i sir itd.), koji sam morao da zbrzam jer smo već pomalo kasnili na davno-zakazani sastanak sa drugom grupom koja će nas čekati na vrhu brda, odakle je trebalo da se spustimo na tradicionalni uskršnji hajk. Dakle, ideja je bila da se natrpamo u 3 kola, odemo na vr' brda, iznad ćebeta od magle, tamo parkiramo, a onda se spec. stazama za šetnju spustimo niz brdo, kroz šumu u magli, do parkinga u podnožju (na koji će Moli da doveze kola a onda nam se pridruži). I tako i bi.

Samo u prvih par minuta mi je bilo žao što je bila magla, a onda počeh da uživam. Uostalom, već sam toliko puta (sa Stefani) išao u šetnje šumama po suncu – ovo mi je prva u životu, koliko pamtim, po magli. Ugođaj je bio fantastičan – bukvalno. Ionako smo bili prilično tiha grupa, a magla dodatno utišava celu okolinu i sve je bilo kao u potpuno odsečenom delu sveta, u interzoni gde svakodnevni zakoni ne važe. Uglavnom sam ćutao i hodao sam, iako u grupi, napajajući oči nadrealnim prizorima. Ako sam govorio, to je pretežno bilo sa Debi. Ona je bila tako fina da mi učini, i uslika me na par lokacija, recimo ja –skroz u crnom- stojim na vrhu brda koje izranja iz magle, ili kasnije sa visokim drvećem polusakrivenom u magli, ili na kraju, sa zalivom koji se vidi sa vidikovca na kome sam stajao.

Sve vreme šetnje Liz je svako malo zastajkivala i pokazivala exotične i zanimljive biljke, i posebno se oduševljavala kad god bi naišli na neku vrstu velikog zelenkastog puža golaća koji je gmizao po lišću i grančicama žbunja. Impresije sa ovog hajka su rečima teško opisive, i jedino slike mogu bar donekle da ih prenesu – još uvek čekam Debi da mi ih pošalje... Inače, u jednom trenutku kad smo se Debi i ja izdvojili iz grupe ona mi je otkrila malo 'pikanterija' vezanih za Liz: naime, ona je u procesu razvoda (kao i 2/3 amera koje sam upoznao), i nije joj baš lako, naročito nakon što su joj deca, sva 3 komada, istovremeno napustila kuću i otišla na sve strane sveta (sin je u Australiji, Moli stalno negde putuje, a druga ćera je cowgirl na nekom ranču).

Tek kad smo stigli do nadonje tačke, tj. parkinga, Liz mi predstavi čoveka koji nam se pridružio na hajku (sa ženom) i sve vreme fotografisao. Ispostavilo se da je to Stephen Goldblatt, čuveni direktor fotografije, snimao THE HUNGER između ostalog. Ja se oduševih time, i malo proćaskah s čovekom, iako on nije bio previše pričljiv. Jedva sam iscedio par detalja iz njega (kaže da su lezbo scene snimali 3-4 dana, da je K. Denev imala dublerku, da Skota zna od ranije, pre tog filma, jer mu je snimao neke kratke, da je on snimao ceo film, dakle uključujući i scene sa spec. efektima, da mu je Dick Smith bio dobar prijatelj, itd.). Na moje pitanje kazao je da mu je najbolji i najdraži rad onaj u ANGELS IN AMERICA (mnogohvaljena TV-serija/film od 6 sati). Poslednje što je radio je novi film M. Nicholsa, sa Jude Lowe-om i Julijom Roberts (za koju reče da je ne simpatiše, da se ponaša kao umišljena zvezda...); za film reče da će biti veoma kontroverzan zbog explicitnosti sex scena i otvorenih sex razgovora... Ipak, pošto je samo odgovarao na moja pitanja, bez previše elaboracije, ili kontra-pitanja, gledao sam da ne budem nametljiv, te nisam previše zapitkivao.

Kad smo stigli nazad u Lizinu 'vikendicu' bilo je taman toliko vremena da nešto malo prezalogajim (nisam previše ni ogladneo od doručka, 3-4 sata ranije), pa sam uzeo samo malo šunke, sira i vina; odmah potom Goldblatt i nj. žena su morali da pođu nazad u Berkli da bi stigli na neko dešavanje, a kako žive na 300 m od I-House, pošao sam sa njima. Vožnja sa Goldblatovima je protekla mahom u tišini, odnosno, Stephen je pustio neku svoju muziku, i sem malo nebitnog ćaskanja nismo mnogo ni pričali. Ostavili su me ispred IH, i tako se okončao ovaj prilično bogat i zabavan vikend.