SM: Please describe the way you dance to someone who’s never seen it.
PH: Complete Spinal Liquidation. This sets in slowly, with an initially timid bopping motion, followed by a sideways pseudo-swimming. Then everything goes jello and I’m on the dance floor in a big way, taking up some serious real estate and confusing physicians.
More concisely: Epilepsy with purpose.
SM: If you were heard to say,”I feel lucky to be a guest here.”, to what situation would you likely be referring?
PH: Americana Amusement Park. They have a patriotic bear on their logo,if I remember correctly.
SM: T.S. Eliot, C.S. Lewis & William Blake have been tricked by a sinister magician, and their lovely girlfriends have been spirited away to the magicians lair. How will you help them ensure their maiden’s safety?
PH: Eliot and Lewis, you’re running point. Blake! Pay attention! You think that engraving’s going to save your ladyfriend? Look, let’s get serious here. Eliot and Lewis, you’re dressing as… you got the costumes, right? Okay, good, good. So you’re the emus, and we get Engraving Boy here on the back wall, in the blind spot. What?… okay, kiwis, not emus. Kiwis, everybody’s got that, right? Blake? Okay. So while the two kiwis are confusing the magician with… well, you’ll have to think of something, won’t you? But you two are good at diversions. We can do this! So while you’ve got the asshole scratching his head and rolling his eyes, Blakey here scales the blind stretch of wall. Straight to the top with the harness. I’m on pulley detail. Now we… Blake! I’m not warning you again! Don’t think I won’t drop you half way up, you fancy sot! All right. Enough talking. Ready? Okay. Let’s do this thing! On three: Teeeeeeeam Murder!
SM: When do you go for a walk, and what do you look for?
PH: Almost never. Probably food.
SM: Please regale us with an anecdote.
PH: On the way back, walking over the bridge again, all of the sound is siphoned from the world. The city is quiet and gray over my left shoulder, and all the cars purr to nothing. The light has turned red and there is an almost tangible quiet enveloping all of us: me, the drivers, the people on the pavilion. My steps are warm, and I am trying to capture any of this, but then the light changes, the engines buck to normalcy, and whatever we were in loses us to the rest of our day.
SM: When was the last time you were in a church or house of worship?
PH: Easter 2004? Not sure. But I’m sure I enjoyed it. Church is my favorite theatre.
SM: How do you act when you travel alone in an unfamiliar place?
PH: Completely quiet. Hopefully people think I’m a killer. Or a writer. Or a writer who kills people because he’s not really such a great writer and has a deadline to meet and needs material. Or a killer writer. As in awesome.
SM: Please describe the last time you were caught in extremely unfriendly weather conditions.
PH: WET! MOVING AIR! MORE WET! SLIDING CAR! PULL OVER? MORE FAST AIR! DARK WITH OCCASIONAL WET!
SM: If you were to illustrate what you think your archenemy has in his pockets right now, what would you be sure to include in your drawing?
PH: Folded glossy 8 by 10 of Slipknot? Signed?
SM: Please compose a brief poem or haiku on the subject of your choosing.
Jill, what’s the problem?
I don’t think it’s contagious,
So stop freaking out.