RT @Boo_Gray1983: My review of The Language of Dying by the lovely @SarahPinborough is up here! http://t.co/JjakcSqXV8 #geekplanetonline
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As some of you may know, in our most recent ASSJam we interview Jeremy Make about a documentary he co-directed called kART Across America. In the interview, we talk briefly about a flick he did called Ink, which is one of our favorite films. Just for shits and Skittles, we decided to go into the archives (Myspace) to find the interview we did with him about Ink.
NOTE: This interview was done in character and with the approval of the writer/director. We hope you enjoy.
Warning: the following interview will make a lot more sense after you watch the film Ink, which you should do immediately. it's still funny, though
One of the great joys of being eternal, besides the fact that we’ll be able to watch Spencer Pratt slowly rot to dust, is that we seem to keep running into beings that exist “outside the norm” if you will. We know some vampires, our chauffeur is a werewolf (granted, he’s as threatening as a Smurf, but still), we hung out with a truly insane carnival for a while (we still miss Lodz. That man knew how to party), and we’ve even irritated a few deities. Recently, however, we uncovered another form of paranormal activity that’s a lot more fun than the films and we just have to share.
Did you know that the cast of Rent is responsible for giving you good dreams? It’s true. As soon as you fall asleep, they sneak into your house, play with your stuff, and sing La Vie Boheme in your ear to make your slumber enjoyable. And who brings bad dreams? The cast of Starlight Express (Really not surprising, if you’ve seen the show).
Even more interesting, there is a small group of beings called Pathfinders whose sole purpose seems to be creating elaborate, Rube Goldbergesque scenarios to get people exactly where they need to be exactly when they need to be there. Forget about the government interfering in your lives; worry more about guys with electrical tape over their eyes.
Through a series of adventures involving four nuns, a swing set, a bottle of Jack, and Ryan Phillippe, we happened to make the acquaintance of one such Pathfinder, an entertaining, mildly deranged man named Jacob, who apparently made sure the nuns got to the strip club in time for the donkey to start the fire, all because we had to meet him. We sat there, watching Phillippe burn on the swing, and spoke of bad movies and our mutual hatred of Chris Kattan. So we decided to give it a shot and see if he’d be up for an interview, which was the question he’d been waiting for. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do it then (He had to go set up a car crash to help some douchey dad), but he gave us his email addy ( This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it ) and said he’d be waiting for our questions.
We got his answers back and, surprisingly, they weren’t all “asdfkjtghqeropui asdgi;lhcnac gjhapi;lh”. Enjoy.
HIM: Really? You’re really asking me questions by email? I’m blind. What were you expecting? I’m dictating this to Allel. She does what I tell her.
US: How does one become a Pathfinder?
HIM: In life, there’s a rating system. Like on hotornot.com. Those on the highest end of the scale, become Pathfinders (they are few and far between; I know of only one other, but he’s missing his olfactory sense, so you can imagine what good he would be). Those on the lower end of the scale are useless. I am a Pathfinder. For obvious reasons.
US: How did you lose your eyes?
HIM: Lose my eyes? What are you talking about? You think just cause I’m blind, I don’t have eyeballs? They’re just fine, thank you. Itchy, but fine.
NOTE: We probably should have asked him why he’s got the electrical tape over his eyes, but we thought that might be a bit intrusive.
US: What do you remember of your life pre-Pathfinder?
HIM: My mother. Her hair, not grey but white. Like a spilled can of paint. She was killed by her boyfriend just before I died. That was the last thing I remember. I woke up in a forest. At least I think it was a forest. Could have been a really big landfill.
US: How much did you really know before Allel came to you?
HIM: She taught me everything I know, I’m just the weakling behind the curtain.
Did you get all that, Allel? I talk, you type. No funny business.
US: Where did you get that lovely little box?
HIM: It was a gift. Came with a bow, but I think it was purple. Got rid of that, added a couple touches, don’t worry about it.
US: Did you help people like Douche Dad out of kindness or are you just bored?
HIM: I’m never bored. I have counting to do, a job. Liev sent me to help a girl. Precious, confident, a woman in a girl’s shoes. She sounded like a young version of me. Wait.
US: What do you do when you're not disrupting people's lives for the better?
HIM: I practice ....Fujian.... white crane martial arts. HA! Who am I kidding? I don’t fight.
I make all my own clothing. I just finished knitting a sleeveless unitard. All the kids are gonna be wearing them next Halloween. Get yours today.
US: What did you do after you left the hospital?
HIM: Before I could get out, I ran straight into one of the sliding glass doors. Those fucking things register a person’s movement so slowly. What happens when there’s a real emergency? Seriously.
When I untangled myself from the tempered glass and bent metal, I ran. And ran. And ran a lot more. I told them to put the emergency pop in an open, reflective area. Not 13 miles from the point of contact. But, as they say, when nature (duty?) calls … run like Hell.
US: Who or what do you answer to?
HIM: Voices, Liev. What my body is telling me (I listen to my body before anything else; it tells me when to pee).
US: When was the last time you got laid?
HIM: Right now. No, really, right this instant.
US: Have you ever gotten lost?
HIM: I don’t know what season we’re in, what color my shoes are. Yes, I get lost.
US: How many Incubi does it take to screw in a light bulb?
HIM: One. But he uses both eyes.
US: Twinkies or cupcakes?
HIM: Sour Patch Kids.
US: Shave or wax?
HIM: My face: shave. My back: wax. But Allel does both for me.
NOTE: We need an Allel for our own.
US: Would you punch a five year old? What if they really deserved it?
HIM: Only if they roared at me.
US: Would you rather attend a taping of Glenn Beck's television show or eat a live baby?
HIM: I’d rather watch Glenn Beck eat a baby live.
NOTE: So would we, actually.
US: What would Brian Boitano do?
HIM: Me.
US: Have you ever danced with the Devil in the pale moon light?
HIM: Once … twice, but he smelled of mothballs and failure.
US: Have you ever formed a long lasting friendship at a urinal?
HIM: You guys are still coming over next weekend for beers, right?
US: Namaste
NOTE: Extra super special uber ultra mondo fudgey crunchy chocolaty coco thanks to Jamin and Kiowa Winans and Jacob himself for making this interview possible.
NOTE 2 ELECTRIC BOOGALOO: In case you forgot, McLintock (Our chauffeur/lycanthrope) is dead. Still don’t miss him.
