Mostly obscure. I like thinking about stuff like the hymen. Where does it go? Does it really disappear, or is it still in one of those folds, and if so, which one? Would we all sound the way we do during sex if we'd never heard pornography, and the corollary, do Amish people sound like us when they have sex?
I'd like to meet:
Candace Pert is a neurology researcher at the NIH and an evangelist for mindbody. Plus she lives around the corner from my mom, so I'm thinking a picnic with Candy would be cool and not out of the question.
Mikhail Bakhtin and Georges Bataille kicked in my head in a good way, but they're both dead, so we won't be picnicking any time soon.
Music:
Steve Roach's music is always on in my house, my car, and my head. Trip hop, Iron and Wine, Sufjan Stevens. Music needs balls. It should never sound like the musician's holding his/her winky in his/her hand. Never ever.
Movies:
My favorite movie used to be American Beauty - (*cruel spoiler alert) I still cry when Spacey dies and then talks about the beauty of life, and I've only seen it, like, twenty times.
But now my fave movie might be Little Miss Sunshine.
Second, or I guess third fave is Big Lebowski. Someday I'll go to Lebowski Fest, dress as a nihilist, drink white Russians and learn to bowl. Anybody wanna go with me, and we can drop our joints in our laps on the way?
Television:
I'm a writer and I like observing people, so I love reality shows. But who doesn't? I want to have a reality show of my own, where I can put people in funny positions and ask them about their bodies.
Books:
Reinventing Eve, a life-altering book about how to be a brave woman who isn't afraid to love.
A Pattern Language, by Christopher Alexander, which is ONLY the best book about anything, but mostly it's about how people move and interact in physical space, and in the world.
Donkey Gospel by Tony Hoagland. Tony Hoagland understands what it means to be a person, particularly a thinking, feeling American male person, and he has the balls to talk about stuff everybody else is scared of.
Heroes:
George Bush. Oh relax, I'm KIDDING. My real hero is Marty.
* Little known fact - Marty is also George Bush's personal hero, and his and Laura's bedroom is papered in pictures from Marty's life.
