When is the fucking movie going to be done already?

As the saying goes, a rolling stone gathers no moss. But it will often gather a lot of dirt, and it can gather blood too, if it rolls over any small creatures along the way. And if that stone rolls in the arctic or the mountains, there's a great chance it could gather snow and become an avalanche that engulfs entire towns in a breathless prison of ice. That said, I don't know when the movie will be done, because our definitions of done are surely not the same. How do you define done?

Done meaning my neighbor can put it in her Netflix Queue because she read about it being at a festival. So... when?

Oh, that done. Spring of 2009.

What about theaters?

Theater screenings would happen sometime before going onto DVD, but after today. I can't be more accurate than that, because I have too many film festival judges to bribe and distribution executives to extort.

What is your ultimate goal for the film – your highest hopes?

My highest hope is that a wealthy arts patron recognizes my filmmaking talent and commits to bankrolling all of my projects for the rest of my life. Right below that one is the hope that I'll actually finish the film before I die. That would be pretty great too.

How many push-ups can your heart do?

My heart recently took the Presidential Fitness Test and I'm sorry to say she failed to meet the standards of fitness mandated by our country's physicians. She's not in poor health, per se, but she's avoided strenuous activity for the last ten years or so. But for the last six months I've had her on a challenging workout regimen. I'm like Chiun to her Remo Williams. She's riding bikes like a motherfucker. Of course she has sustained a few mildly debilitating injuries, but she'll be juggling pickup trucks in no time, I'm sure of it.

If your heart is female, is your penis also?

Yes, my heart is female, like my penis. However, my penis is also an android, sort of like Daryl Hannah from Blade Runner (but without the stripe, thankfully).

Do androids dream of electric sheep? Or just David's penis?

Androids dream about stars coming at them rilly fast, flocks of toasters with wings flying by, a chain of pipes that grows ever longer, or whatever the fuck else I tell them to. For the record, I disapprove of your use of the word "just" in your question.

Do you ever dream about yourself dreaming – and in the second dream you're really spooked by what your dream is dreaming about – or is that just me? Do I need help?

You don't need help. You need to share. I want those dreams. At best, I dream that I wake up and start getting dressed, then I wake up and wonder why I'm not dressed yet.

Do seagulls fall in love?

Seagulls fall in everything. Love is the least of their worries. I once saw a seagull with one leg fighting a seagull with three legs. It frightened me to no end. If they joined forces, they'd be unstoppable. No beach-goer would be safe ever again. The seagull apocalypse, our world leaders held ransom for bags of sliced white bread. A city of sand paved with droppings. A global bird revolution. Apparently, they didn't feel the same as I did, and they soon flew off their separate ways.

You mean like "Jonathan Livingston Seagull"? Or like "Dump Chicken Makes Breakfast"?

I mean like "Ubiquitous Winged Vermin with Mouths Bigger than their Brains and Stomachs Bigger than Both of them Combined."

What can we expect from this movie? (11 words max)

The truer the love, the lesser the truth.

Sounds great. What else? (3 words left)

Honor the soothsayers.

What have you learned about yourself through this process that you'd rather you didn't find out?

I learned that traveling in a van with a bunch of dudes is about as glamorous as it sounds, which is to say not very. I learned that knowing how to use an electric can opener did not give me the training needed to gracefully operate a professional video camera. I learned that less planning in the beginning means way more work in the end. I learned that I could easily fall in love with San Francisco, and that I probably couldn't afford that love. I learned that despite my love of words, I cannot articulate tour experiences to people who weren't there. And I learned that phone companies will shut down my cell phone if I don't pay the bill for three months. Okay, maybe I already knew that last one.

What did you learn about the world that you didn't know, and what did you learn about the world that you'd rather you hadn't learned?

I learned that it takes for-fucking-ever to drive from Dallas to Kansas City. And I learned that just because I flirt with the universe, it doesn't mean the universe will flirt back, especially if the universe is in a monogamous relationship with someone more attractive and more successful than I am.

What did Davy learn about love? What did he learn that he'd rather not have? Does he have a girlfriend now? Can I have his phone number?

I can't answer any of those questions, because they will ruin the dramatic suspense that I'm meticulously crafting. But you can have his phone number: (248) 262.6861. God speed.

Are you still enjoying the process?

I enjoy it most when others participate. My friends Lauren and Sarah have been contributing a great deal, and Davy too. Talking with friends and dreaming up ideas has made this project a better one, and more fun for me too. I love that I'm finding ways to work literature into this film; pulling theories from Deleuze and Baudrillard, quotes from Amy Hempel and Susan Sontag, finding inspiration from poetry and fiction. It's thrilling. But my favorite part of this process is doing interviews where I can name-drop Gilles Deleuze like a big ol' fucking pimp.

How can others participate? Can we come over and leave prints on the monitor and go aaaahhh? Can we send clips of ourselves over with the hopes that you'll make them into a music video? Can we do something over the intertube? Or are you just throwing us a bone?

Others can participate by going to the documentary's MySpace page and leaving long ranting comments about love and how much it sucks sucks sucks. Or making videos about how much love rulz rulz rulz! Or by writing me messages that say, in essence, "You are so incredibly talented, I admire your courage, your mind is so fascinating, give me your mailing address so I can send you care packages full of fruit, how much money can I give you?"

If you could do it over, what would you do different?

I'd read the user manual. I'd write the story before shooting, especially if it's a documentary. And I'd never ever go to sleep.

When you do sleep, do you subconsciously edit or twitch your hand as if it were operating the mouse?

Actually, my hand is the only part of my body that doesn't twitch when I sleep. It remains entirely still, while I writhe around it.

Is there really a pool table in your "office"? Does that present a problem?

My office is in the basement of a house in Ann Arbor. A saintly family lets me room in their attic and work in their basement, and shoot pool on their pool table when I need a break from staring at computers. The biggest problem it presents is that I don't use it enough. And that after a year and a half, I still completely miss the cue ball once every few games. It's disgusting.

C'mon, don't bullshit me. You know you miss more often than that. Is there a dart board? What do you do when you're not editing and talking to yourself?

I talk to inanimate objects. Thankfully, they don't talk back.

How do you find the energy and willpower to keep going while working alone, away from people, sunlight and vegan cookies?

I make a daily excursion to local business establishments to frighten the staff with my unkemptness, absorb as much sunlight as Michigan can afford (which is to say quite little), and, yes, eat at least one vegan cookie per day. This ritual holiday makes life as an editing zombie quite satisfying.

Through this film, have you learned more about love, or has it just fucked with your libido?

I recently read 120 Days of Sodom by Marquis de Sade, and I did most of my reading in coffee shops on the University of Michigan campus. Sometimes while reading his graphic descriptions of coprophilia, I'd be distracted by some student walking nearby, and I couldn't help but imagine them in the scenario I was reading about, whatever it was at the time. Marquis de Sade was an agent provocateur; he ensnared readers into his perverse words against their will. I admire that ability. What I'm saying is that when compared to how it feels to read de Sade, the effect of this documentary on my libido has been minimal, at most. But it has made me awfully pale, which certainly could affect other people's libidos, should they be in the same room as me.

Will the movie raise the viewers' libido? Will it make them fall in love with the person they're sitting next to, or at least with their partner all over again?

This won't be a date movie, no. If I see documentation of people making out during this movie, I will personally become a certified minister and marry those people, because I think that's just beautiful. But I doubt it will happen. Best case scenario: learn how to love better by seeing someone else's mistakes. Worst case scenario: the sun explodes and we all die. Actually, worse than that is if we all lived. That would be a long, cold, cannibalistic winter.

Do you think this movie will shock, entertain, humor, empower, influence or intensify the audience?

If I can only pick one, I'd say that this film will empower audiences. Viewers will learn a lot about their own love lives by witnessing the mistakes of others. And if I could pick a second one, I'd pick humor, because nothing better complements a mistake than a crowd of people laughing. Oh, playground ethics.

Who came up with the title? Were there any good runner-ups?

We found the title on the road, at the PostSecret headquarters in Virginia. You'll see it when the movie's finished, so just ease up already, sheesh. Other choices were Losing Heart, A Van with a View, The Art of Losing Each Other, and Sandwich Time!!!! And yes, with four exclamation marks.

Aren't all of our hearts idiots, or just some of ours?

I can't speak for everyone else, but my heart's certainly not an idiot. My heart is a brave princess.

Oh, that answers the question about the penis...

Exactly.

Is celibacy underrated?

Celibacy is understated and overrated. Not enough people talk about how little fun it is. If more people talked about it, less people would do it. It's one of the greatest tragedies of our time, right up there with "Full House" reruns and the declining availability of ketchup chips in the USA.

 

That's not the answer I was looking for. What I'm looking for is something like: "Chris, true love will find you regardless of how long it's been since another human being touched your body." Ok, take two: Is celibacy underrated?

Chris, true love will find you regardless of how long it's been since another human being touched your body. In related news, I hear you bought a new sex doll?

It's not true, I don't think. But I have vivid dreams, and sometimes they muddy the line between reality and not-reality. So will this film make me hate my life more, or feel good about celibacy?

This film won't do anything for you that you're unwilling to do yourself, i.e. admit to owning a sex doll. Your life will be the same as before, only you'll be older, and thus closer to your death. Happy viewing!

Who would win a fight if love were the weapon – Jesus or the Buddha? Or Satan?

In Milton's Paradise Lost, Satan spies on Adam and Eve and thinks to himself, "Ah gentle pair, yee little think how nigh / Your change approachees, when all these delights / Will vanish and deliver ye to woe, / More woe, the more your taste is now of joy..." So, yeah, my money's on Satan, for ruthlessness alone. What a bastard, je l'aime.

Does Satan have a heart? What would he get out of your movie?

Satan is one of the fallen angels, and I think lacks both heart and genitals. Anatomy aside, I can sum up in one word why Satan would like the documentary: comeuppance.

 

Ok, now that I've looked that word up, who would really fucking hate this movie? Will it actually piss anyone off? Seagulls? Republicans? Your mother?

I don't think Newt Gingrich will love the film, but he prolly won't hate it either. I think the first person to hate this film is going to be me, because I've always been like that. I mean, I'm a white anti-racist, a male feminist, a queer-friendly heterosexual, an able-bodied dude who can pop wheelies in a wheelchair. I'm an embarrassment to myself.

Why do birds suddenly appear every time you are near?

Please refer to my earlier thoughts on seagulls.

Who designed your gloves?

The FEMI was by Zoe Woodbury-High, and the NIST was Liz Woodbury. The gloves themselves were machine crafted by children in an unknown Asian town. I apologize.

 

Are humans meant to eat other humans' hearts?

Are artichokes human? If I can ever progenate to create a species that is half artichoke and half human, you'd better fucking believe I'll do it. You know how some linguist claims that "cellar door" is the most beautiful phrase in the English language? Well "artichoke baby" came in a close second.

That sounds like a good title.

I'll share that with my board members.

I drink your milkshake.

I ated it.

Is film the perfect storytelling device? In what ways is it superior to literature? And how is it inferior?

I love to read, and I'm an incredibly slow reader. I like to reread sentences multiple times, savor certain phrases again, write ideas in the margins. Also, I have bad vision, and often I space out and realize I haven't been paying attention for a few pages or so. With movies, I don't have that freedom. Because film is time-based, I am less in control of the pace. Film requires less active participation of the viewer -- the audience has the option of sitting there like plants and letting the film just happen to them. And for that reason, it's a great opportunity for storytellers to deliver a well-crafted story. And in that sense, it's an ideal way for dictators to deliver propaganda. Keep that in mind next time you watch the Transformers movie.

If there was an accompanying book for this movie, what would the book look like and what would the opening line be?

There is an accompanying book, in a spiritual and associative kind of way. It's called The Thief's Journal, written by Jean Genet, and the opening line (translated from the French) is "Convicts' garb is striped pink and white."

I'm serious. Try again. Coffee table book? Zine? Graphic novel? Erotica?

It definitely wouldn't be erotica, unless you find not showering erotic (some do, e.g. de Sade). Probably an animated zine written on e-paper. For serious.

Do you appear in the movie, or just the other guy whose name starts with D-a-v?

I make a cameo appearance or two, but mostly it's about that other dude. And just now I remember a line from Helene Cixous: "We must all deal with the unconscious effects of our proper name." Davy and I have more in common than our first syllables. You'll have to wait for the movie to know what I mean.

 

What would you change about mainstream film if you could make it more like literature? Length? Plot structure? Prettiness? Marketing? Catering?

If I could make mainstream film more like literature, I'd make people stop going to theaters because they found a quicker way to absorb information, like a nanotech needle straight into their brain. That notwithstanding, I'd like to see more poetry in mainstream film. Not like characters who are poets, but a more poetic sensibility, a more complex appreciation for subtlety, less spoon-feeding. My biggest complaint is that mainstream films don't make the audience work hard enough. If a viewer won't reach out to my film, I don't want to give them a hug.

After writing Ulysses, James Joyce got tons of criticism for the difficulty of his novel. His response: It took me seven years to write it, and if it takes you seven years to read it, SO BE IT. And I just realized now that a former professor of mine told me that anecdote, and I have no idea if it's really true. I hope someone lets me know.

What would you change about books to make them as sexy as movies? Or would you leave them well enough alone?

I don't know what you mean, I think books are way sexier than movies. Maybe that's why I hardly date these days.

Did anything really incredible happen to you while filming this or in post production?

Yes.

How long did it last? What color was it?

It was red, and it lasted forever.

How did it affect you? Did it get on anyone else? What treatment did you seek? Does it appear in the movie?

Oh, I can't describe it, it's beyond words, beyond translation. H.P. Lovecraft called it the "unnameable." It's like that, only with less tentacles. But no, you won't see it in the movie. Not this movie, at least. Maybe the next one.

Awesome. Good night.

Toodles!