G. S. Carnivals
08-12-2009, 04:53 AM
TLO Member Interview: puppet nonsense
Conducted by Phillip Stecco
1) How did you first encounter the work of Thomas Ligotti?
Rafael: It was a chance occurrence in a bookstore I frequent. I’m always looking for something strange, something strange and horrific at the same time. Thus far I had not had too much luck, but as usual I was perusing the books during a break from school and happened to have my eye caught by a small book with a disturbing looking doll’s head on the cover (Teatro Grottesco). After reading the back I knew I had discovered something special, and after reading the first story, "Purity," I knew I had finally found what I was looking for. Since then, I have been feverishly seeking more of Ligotti’s books to add to the collection.
2) What are some of your favorite works by Mr. Ligotti?
Rafael: Currently, if pressed to make a decision, I would have to say that "The Clown Puppet" is my favorite. I love strange upheavals in reality, and this story has it. I have had terrifying experiences of a similar nature as the story's main character, and see it as a sort of interpretation of the same feelings. So far I love everything I’ve read from Ligotti.
3) What other writers do you enjoy reading?
Rafael: Mark Z. Danielewski comes to mind. His books House of Leaves and Only Revolutions were complete revelations for me. Interestingly enough, while reading House of Leaves I came across a word that intrigued me (De-realization) and which led to my discovery of the name for the long-time condition I was suffering. I also really enjoy Algernon Blackwood, and was stricken after reading his tale "The Willows."
4) Do you have any favorite singers or musicians?
Rafael: This one shouldn’t be as tough as it feels. I used to listen to a lot of rock like System of a Down, Tool, Helmet, AIC etc… and I still enjoy that music, but as it has turned out, I am most likely listening to Classical or strange electronic ambient stuff that borders on just sound. I really like anything by Akira Yamaoka, the composer for the Silent Hill games. I would recommend his work to anyone that likes to foster dark atmospheres.
5) Do you have any favorite artists in the visual media?
Rafael: Michael Parkes, Rene Magritte, Salvador Dali, Max Ernst, Hans Bellmer, Joel Peter Witkin, Francis Bacon, Henry Fuseli. There are others that are not coming to mind…
6) What are some of your favorite movies?
Rafael: The Holy Mountain, El Topo, Inland Empire, The Others, The Fall, Eyes Without a Face, Jacob’s Ladder, anything by Tarkovsky. I’m a film student. I love lots of movies.
7) Do you watch television?
Rafael: No.
8) What foods do you enjoy eating?
Rafael: I enjoy spicy foods; Thai food, Indian, Mexican. I’m a vegetarian as well.
9) Do you have any odd hobbies or collecting fetishes?
Rafael: I guess I don’t collect much besides books. Used to collect guitars and movie memorabilia until I realized I didn’t have money. Hobbies are weightlifting, making films, making music, video games, Visual Effects, 3D modeling, Matte Painting, reading.
10) What recreational activities do you enjoy?
Rafael: I lift weights and get some cardio five days a week. Besides that I don’t have too much time to dedicate. I do love to go hiking and camping when the opportunity presents itself.
11) What makes you laugh?
Rafael: Ridiculousness. Absurd things. I do a lot of voices and play many characters at home, regardless of friends present, and that makes me laugh.
12) Life?
Rafael: When the conditions are sufficient for “life” as they are for me now, I am considered to be living. However, I can think of no adequate definition for “life.”
13) Death?
Rafael: Same as life, hard to define such a thing. When the conditions are no longer present for my body to “live” it will “die.” I don’t see any magic in death. Everything I consider “me” will still be here, and unless reincarnation is true, I’ve been dead far longer than I’ve ever been alive. If that’s the case, I should be far more terrified of living than dying.
14) Work?
Rafael: I have had a pretty black history with work. I dislike work, or at least the work I do. I make people coffee. I see this as a waste of resources and I don’t think it is beneficial to our species in the slightest. Sometimes I think I would rather have a job moving rocks from point A to point B. Perhaps my degree will get me something interesting and creative.
15) Do you have any interesting work anecdotes to relate?
Rafael: I do. In fact, I have a nightmare anecdote that brings to mind, to some degree, the nightmares of Ligotti. Please forgive me for the lengthy response, as this is quite a story. During my grade school/High School years, I did a lot of experimenting. This included copious amounts of marijuana, alcohol, and perhaps more importantly, mushrooms and LSD. Now, in the years leading up to this event, I had had a few experiences. These I always assumed were flashbacks, periods that would last a short or long time and be quite similar to hallucinations. I wrote them off as that anyway. Flash to about six years later… I would still have these “episodes” as I liked to call them (to myself of course) on a rather regular basis, mostly at work. Work was a stressful place for me and this always triggered the episodes. My job was managing a Starbucks in a Safeway. It was terrible. No one wanted to be there. Everyone called in all the time. We wouldn’t get our breaks. They always cut our hours, and this meant that I was there ALL the time. It was a nightmare, though not quite a real nightmare at that point. On the day of the “episode” it was Friday, and there was a college football game (OSU) not more than a few blocks away. Everyone had called in again, and it was all up to me. I was staring a 14-hour shift in the face with no possibility of escape. The stress was unbelievable and I knew something was going to go horribly wrong. I don’t remember exactly what initially triggered the episode, but I do remember a young boy standing at the register staring at me with several people behind him. I knew the moment had come. Suddenly my senses were melted. Sounds that should have been barely audible were thundering inside my head. Vague shapes darted in and out of my peripherals and my lips went completely numb. I was gripped in complete terror. I was sweating profusely and trying to hold myself together. Unfortunately for me, a Friday game day means it’s going to be insanely busy, and this Friday game day was not going to break tradition. Person after person began filing in and joining the already ridiculously long line, and every one of them was watching me. Their eyes were alien and seemed malicious. I tried not to look at them. When I took orders my hands looked to be acting of their own volition and stretched to near infinity to the register I could barely see. Everyone I looked at stared at me strangely. Did they know? Did they know I had gone insane? I felt certain that they could tell something was going on with me. What the hell was going on with me for that matter? It was no flashback. I knew that. This was something different. This was serious. I could no longer feel my body, but stand a foot or so back from it and watch what was happening. I could hear my voice, yet it held no significance for me, and I barely knew it was I who was talking. Time slowed. Seconds passed as hours, and the line never thinned. Then came the most terrifying thing I have ever experienced. A woman. She was standing in front of the register waiting, and when I looked up into her eyes, they were not human. They were sort of like cat’s eyes, or like a snake’s eyes, except the iris ended about halfway up the eye. I shot my gaze down. It is perhaps worth noting at this point that this little addition to the “episode” pushed me into a level of paranoia and fear I had never experienced and hopefully never will again. When I saw the woman with the “reptilian” eyes I started to become MAD. My mind reeled with the implications. Was she alien? Was she some sort of demon? Could I see her “true” eyes because of the state I was in? I was completely gone. Nuts. I thought that either this woman was some sort of inter-dimensional monster or that I had gone insane. I made her drink and continued on the line. I had some small fantasies about running out of the building screaming, but I didn’t. My heart was racing unnaturally fast, at least it seemed so at the time, and I thought I might go into cardiac arrest. Suddenly, and to my complete devastation, I caught a glance of another woman out of the corner of my eye. She had the same eyes as the other woman! I continued to work. It was all I could do. I was trapped. After what seemed like an eternity, the line faded and I was standing there alone. I was trying to slow my breathing and become grounded in reality. I was trying to think of what I should do. Then, and I will remember this till the day I die, the second woman I saw came back. She stopped at my kiosk and smiled at me. It was not a horrific smile, but a friendly, loving smile. Her eyes were still dragon’s eyes, but she smiled the most beautiful smile I could have ever hoped to experience. My panic started to fade. I felt my body coming back and I started to relax. Then she began to talk to me. It was a relatively short conversation, and I don’t recall everything said, but I do remember that near the end she saw a rose on the corner of my kiosk that a woman from the floral department had brought over as there was a sale going on. She bent over and smelled it, looked up at me smiling and said, “My name is Rose, and I am infatuated with them.” I gave her the rose and she thanked me, smiled, and left. I had noticed that on her way to the kiosk she had come from the deli. I ran over to the deli and asked a girl, Kelsey, if she had seen a girl with “crazy” eyes. She said she had. I immediately knew I wasn’t insane. I asked her about them and she said that it was some sort of eye deformity or something. What are the chances that two people would come in on the same day to my coffee kiosk with the same irregular eyes!? I have always wanted to thank Rose. There was one opportunity, in Eugene Oregon, a couple of years later. I was a judge at the Guitarmageddon guitar contest and after judging and leaving, I saw her. She was leaving with one of the guitarists, probably her boyfriend. I wanted to say something. I wanted to tell her what had happened to me that day and that she had helped me out of my darkest moment, But I didn’t have the balls. I couldn’t bring myself to do it, and I haven’t seen her since. If I ever get the opportunity again I most certainly will take it, as crazy as it will sound. Anyway, a couple of years later I learned about my condition by a chance occurrence with a book. I have Depersonalization/Derealization disorder. And up until about a year and a half ago, it has been constant, 24/7, in this state. I have learned to control it however and I only have “episodes” now in the most extremely stressful situations, which I try to avoid. For those interested, here is some information on the condition: "I find myself regarding existence as though from beyond the tomb, from another world; all is strange to me; I am, as it were, outside my own body and individuality; I am depersonalized, detached, cut adrift. Is this madness?" -Henri Frederic Amiel Depersonalization disorder (DPD) is a dissociative disorder in which the sufferer is affected by persistent or recurrent feelings of depersonalization and/or derealization. The symptoms include a sense of automation, going through the motions of life but not experiencing it, feeling as though one is in a movie, feeling as though one is in a dream, feeling a disconnection from one's body; out-of-body experience, a detachment from one's body, environment and difficulty relating oneself to reality. Derealization (DR) is an alteration in the perception or experience of the external world so that it seems strange or unreal. Other symptoms include feeling as though one's environment is lacking in spontaneity, emotional colouring and depth.[1] It is a dissociative symptom of many conditions, such as psychiatric and neurological disorders, and not a standalone disorder. It is also a transient side effect of acute drug intoxication, sleep deprivation, various occult practices, and stress. Derealization is a subjective experience of unreality of the outside world, while depersonalization is unreality in one's sense of self. Although most authors currently regard derealization (surroundings) and depersonalization (self) as independent constructs, many do not want to separate derealization from depersonalization.[2] The main reason for this is nosological, because these symptoms often co-occur, but there is another reason of great philosophical importance, namely, that the phenomenological experience of self, others, and world is one continuous whole. Thus, feelings of unreality may blend in and the person may puzzle over deciding whether it is the self or the world that feels unreal to them.
16) What is your earliest childhood memory?
Rafael: I don’t remember most of my childhood, and even most of what has occurred since is a grey blur. I do have an interesting memory though. At several and unpredictable moments in my early childhood I remember having a strange sensation come over me. I would become frightened and get out my Dad’s bible. I would try to read it but my eyes would “slip” off the words. I also remember having these strange visions of blackness with a trench of what I can only describe as sand flowing through it. Occasionally a rough black “sand” would flow through intermixed with the other sand and when it happened, it hurt me physically and mentally. Keep in mind I had a nice childhood, these are just the things that stand out for me.
17) What is your fondest childhood memory?
Rafael: Good question. When I was really young, I’m terrible with ages, I used to visit an old woman. Her name was Jean Colina. She would read to me all day long and I would just hang out at her apartment. She used to read me those bug books. I’m not sure what they were called. They were about the life of these tiny bugs. Anyway, I really loved Jean. I guess she died some time ago.
18) Who has been the most influential person in your life?
Rafael: This is a tough one. It may have been Lao Tzu or Thich Nhat Hanh, which I guess could have been inspired by Buddha.
19) Do you have a special plan for this world?
Rafael: I have no plans for this world. I lament going to college sometimes and wish I would have chosen something that did something positive for someone. I feel like, being born into a relatively fortunate situation, that I have a responsibility to help those that weren’t. At the same time, however, I wish I could live in seclusion, or perhaps even deep in the forest.
20) What else should we know about you?
Rafael: That’s more than I’ve told many close friends truth be known. ☺
Conducted by Phillip Stecco
1) How did you first encounter the work of Thomas Ligotti?
Rafael: It was a chance occurrence in a bookstore I frequent. I’m always looking for something strange, something strange and horrific at the same time. Thus far I had not had too much luck, but as usual I was perusing the books during a break from school and happened to have my eye caught by a small book with a disturbing looking doll’s head on the cover (Teatro Grottesco). After reading the back I knew I had discovered something special, and after reading the first story, "Purity," I knew I had finally found what I was looking for. Since then, I have been feverishly seeking more of Ligotti’s books to add to the collection.
2) What are some of your favorite works by Mr. Ligotti?
Rafael: Currently, if pressed to make a decision, I would have to say that "The Clown Puppet" is my favorite. I love strange upheavals in reality, and this story has it. I have had terrifying experiences of a similar nature as the story's main character, and see it as a sort of interpretation of the same feelings. So far I love everything I’ve read from Ligotti.
3) What other writers do you enjoy reading?
Rafael: Mark Z. Danielewski comes to mind. His books House of Leaves and Only Revolutions were complete revelations for me. Interestingly enough, while reading House of Leaves I came across a word that intrigued me (De-realization) and which led to my discovery of the name for the long-time condition I was suffering. I also really enjoy Algernon Blackwood, and was stricken after reading his tale "The Willows."
4) Do you have any favorite singers or musicians?
Rafael: This one shouldn’t be as tough as it feels. I used to listen to a lot of rock like System of a Down, Tool, Helmet, AIC etc… and I still enjoy that music, but as it has turned out, I am most likely listening to Classical or strange electronic ambient stuff that borders on just sound. I really like anything by Akira Yamaoka, the composer for the Silent Hill games. I would recommend his work to anyone that likes to foster dark atmospheres.
5) Do you have any favorite artists in the visual media?
Rafael: Michael Parkes, Rene Magritte, Salvador Dali, Max Ernst, Hans Bellmer, Joel Peter Witkin, Francis Bacon, Henry Fuseli. There are others that are not coming to mind…
6) What are some of your favorite movies?
Rafael: The Holy Mountain, El Topo, Inland Empire, The Others, The Fall, Eyes Without a Face, Jacob’s Ladder, anything by Tarkovsky. I’m a film student. I love lots of movies.
7) Do you watch television?
Rafael: No.
8) What foods do you enjoy eating?
Rafael: I enjoy spicy foods; Thai food, Indian, Mexican. I’m a vegetarian as well.
9) Do you have any odd hobbies or collecting fetishes?
Rafael: I guess I don’t collect much besides books. Used to collect guitars and movie memorabilia until I realized I didn’t have money. Hobbies are weightlifting, making films, making music, video games, Visual Effects, 3D modeling, Matte Painting, reading.
10) What recreational activities do you enjoy?
Rafael: I lift weights and get some cardio five days a week. Besides that I don’t have too much time to dedicate. I do love to go hiking and camping when the opportunity presents itself.
11) What makes you laugh?
Rafael: Ridiculousness. Absurd things. I do a lot of voices and play many characters at home, regardless of friends present, and that makes me laugh.
12) Life?
Rafael: When the conditions are sufficient for “life” as they are for me now, I am considered to be living. However, I can think of no adequate definition for “life.”
13) Death?
Rafael: Same as life, hard to define such a thing. When the conditions are no longer present for my body to “live” it will “die.” I don’t see any magic in death. Everything I consider “me” will still be here, and unless reincarnation is true, I’ve been dead far longer than I’ve ever been alive. If that’s the case, I should be far more terrified of living than dying.
14) Work?
Rafael: I have had a pretty black history with work. I dislike work, or at least the work I do. I make people coffee. I see this as a waste of resources and I don’t think it is beneficial to our species in the slightest. Sometimes I think I would rather have a job moving rocks from point A to point B. Perhaps my degree will get me something interesting and creative.
15) Do you have any interesting work anecdotes to relate?
Rafael: I do. In fact, I have a nightmare anecdote that brings to mind, to some degree, the nightmares of Ligotti. Please forgive me for the lengthy response, as this is quite a story. During my grade school/High School years, I did a lot of experimenting. This included copious amounts of marijuana, alcohol, and perhaps more importantly, mushrooms and LSD. Now, in the years leading up to this event, I had had a few experiences. These I always assumed were flashbacks, periods that would last a short or long time and be quite similar to hallucinations. I wrote them off as that anyway. Flash to about six years later… I would still have these “episodes” as I liked to call them (to myself of course) on a rather regular basis, mostly at work. Work was a stressful place for me and this always triggered the episodes. My job was managing a Starbucks in a Safeway. It was terrible. No one wanted to be there. Everyone called in all the time. We wouldn’t get our breaks. They always cut our hours, and this meant that I was there ALL the time. It was a nightmare, though not quite a real nightmare at that point. On the day of the “episode” it was Friday, and there was a college football game (OSU) not more than a few blocks away. Everyone had called in again, and it was all up to me. I was staring a 14-hour shift in the face with no possibility of escape. The stress was unbelievable and I knew something was going to go horribly wrong. I don’t remember exactly what initially triggered the episode, but I do remember a young boy standing at the register staring at me with several people behind him. I knew the moment had come. Suddenly my senses were melted. Sounds that should have been barely audible were thundering inside my head. Vague shapes darted in and out of my peripherals and my lips went completely numb. I was gripped in complete terror. I was sweating profusely and trying to hold myself together. Unfortunately for me, a Friday game day means it’s going to be insanely busy, and this Friday game day was not going to break tradition. Person after person began filing in and joining the already ridiculously long line, and every one of them was watching me. Their eyes were alien and seemed malicious. I tried not to look at them. When I took orders my hands looked to be acting of their own volition and stretched to near infinity to the register I could barely see. Everyone I looked at stared at me strangely. Did they know? Did they know I had gone insane? I felt certain that they could tell something was going on with me. What the hell was going on with me for that matter? It was no flashback. I knew that. This was something different. This was serious. I could no longer feel my body, but stand a foot or so back from it and watch what was happening. I could hear my voice, yet it held no significance for me, and I barely knew it was I who was talking. Time slowed. Seconds passed as hours, and the line never thinned. Then came the most terrifying thing I have ever experienced. A woman. She was standing in front of the register waiting, and when I looked up into her eyes, they were not human. They were sort of like cat’s eyes, or like a snake’s eyes, except the iris ended about halfway up the eye. I shot my gaze down. It is perhaps worth noting at this point that this little addition to the “episode” pushed me into a level of paranoia and fear I had never experienced and hopefully never will again. When I saw the woman with the “reptilian” eyes I started to become MAD. My mind reeled with the implications. Was she alien? Was she some sort of demon? Could I see her “true” eyes because of the state I was in? I was completely gone. Nuts. I thought that either this woman was some sort of inter-dimensional monster or that I had gone insane. I made her drink and continued on the line. I had some small fantasies about running out of the building screaming, but I didn’t. My heart was racing unnaturally fast, at least it seemed so at the time, and I thought I might go into cardiac arrest. Suddenly, and to my complete devastation, I caught a glance of another woman out of the corner of my eye. She had the same eyes as the other woman! I continued to work. It was all I could do. I was trapped. After what seemed like an eternity, the line faded and I was standing there alone. I was trying to slow my breathing and become grounded in reality. I was trying to think of what I should do. Then, and I will remember this till the day I die, the second woman I saw came back. She stopped at my kiosk and smiled at me. It was not a horrific smile, but a friendly, loving smile. Her eyes were still dragon’s eyes, but she smiled the most beautiful smile I could have ever hoped to experience. My panic started to fade. I felt my body coming back and I started to relax. Then she began to talk to me. It was a relatively short conversation, and I don’t recall everything said, but I do remember that near the end she saw a rose on the corner of my kiosk that a woman from the floral department had brought over as there was a sale going on. She bent over and smelled it, looked up at me smiling and said, “My name is Rose, and I am infatuated with them.” I gave her the rose and she thanked me, smiled, and left. I had noticed that on her way to the kiosk she had come from the deli. I ran over to the deli and asked a girl, Kelsey, if she had seen a girl with “crazy” eyes. She said she had. I immediately knew I wasn’t insane. I asked her about them and she said that it was some sort of eye deformity or something. What are the chances that two people would come in on the same day to my coffee kiosk with the same irregular eyes!? I have always wanted to thank Rose. There was one opportunity, in Eugene Oregon, a couple of years later. I was a judge at the Guitarmageddon guitar contest and after judging and leaving, I saw her. She was leaving with one of the guitarists, probably her boyfriend. I wanted to say something. I wanted to tell her what had happened to me that day and that she had helped me out of my darkest moment, But I didn’t have the balls. I couldn’t bring myself to do it, and I haven’t seen her since. If I ever get the opportunity again I most certainly will take it, as crazy as it will sound. Anyway, a couple of years later I learned about my condition by a chance occurrence with a book. I have Depersonalization/Derealization disorder. And up until about a year and a half ago, it has been constant, 24/7, in this state. I have learned to control it however and I only have “episodes” now in the most extremely stressful situations, which I try to avoid. For those interested, here is some information on the condition: "I find myself regarding existence as though from beyond the tomb, from another world; all is strange to me; I am, as it were, outside my own body and individuality; I am depersonalized, detached, cut adrift. Is this madness?" -Henri Frederic Amiel Depersonalization disorder (DPD) is a dissociative disorder in which the sufferer is affected by persistent or recurrent feelings of depersonalization and/or derealization. The symptoms include a sense of automation, going through the motions of life but not experiencing it, feeling as though one is in a movie, feeling as though one is in a dream, feeling a disconnection from one's body; out-of-body experience, a detachment from one's body, environment and difficulty relating oneself to reality. Derealization (DR) is an alteration in the perception or experience of the external world so that it seems strange or unreal. Other symptoms include feeling as though one's environment is lacking in spontaneity, emotional colouring and depth.[1] It is a dissociative symptom of many conditions, such as psychiatric and neurological disorders, and not a standalone disorder. It is also a transient side effect of acute drug intoxication, sleep deprivation, various occult practices, and stress. Derealization is a subjective experience of unreality of the outside world, while depersonalization is unreality in one's sense of self. Although most authors currently regard derealization (surroundings) and depersonalization (self) as independent constructs, many do not want to separate derealization from depersonalization.[2] The main reason for this is nosological, because these symptoms often co-occur, but there is another reason of great philosophical importance, namely, that the phenomenological experience of self, others, and world is one continuous whole. Thus, feelings of unreality may blend in and the person may puzzle over deciding whether it is the self or the world that feels unreal to them.
16) What is your earliest childhood memory?
Rafael: I don’t remember most of my childhood, and even most of what has occurred since is a grey blur. I do have an interesting memory though. At several and unpredictable moments in my early childhood I remember having a strange sensation come over me. I would become frightened and get out my Dad’s bible. I would try to read it but my eyes would “slip” off the words. I also remember having these strange visions of blackness with a trench of what I can only describe as sand flowing through it. Occasionally a rough black “sand” would flow through intermixed with the other sand and when it happened, it hurt me physically and mentally. Keep in mind I had a nice childhood, these are just the things that stand out for me.
17) What is your fondest childhood memory?
Rafael: Good question. When I was really young, I’m terrible with ages, I used to visit an old woman. Her name was Jean Colina. She would read to me all day long and I would just hang out at her apartment. She used to read me those bug books. I’m not sure what they were called. They were about the life of these tiny bugs. Anyway, I really loved Jean. I guess she died some time ago.
18) Who has been the most influential person in your life?
Rafael: This is a tough one. It may have been Lao Tzu or Thich Nhat Hanh, which I guess could have been inspired by Buddha.
19) Do you have a special plan for this world?
Rafael: I have no plans for this world. I lament going to college sometimes and wish I would have chosen something that did something positive for someone. I feel like, being born into a relatively fortunate situation, that I have a responsibility to help those that weren’t. At the same time, however, I wish I could live in seclusion, or perhaps even deep in the forest.
20) What else should we know about you?
Rafael: That’s more than I’ve told many close friends truth be known. ☺