This post will not be about my esoteric style of writing.
Long ago, I was a boy scout. Hard to believe--I know--but I was, and eventually I managed attain the rank of Eagle Scout. Anyway, that's that not really important here, what is though, is that on my second or third camping trip, I was paired up with Gary (not his real name), a kid who the rest of my patrol (a subset of the troop I belonged to) thought was weird. I assumed it was because he was awkward and his dad, who was one of our scout leaders, was a jerk, but that wasn't why at all, as I would soon find out.
That first night, as I was trying to get to sleep, Gary started talking to me. I was surprised at first, he wasn't the most talkative of fellows, but seeing a chance to actually get to know him I went along with the small talk. Things were going fine, until this little exchange:
Gary: You know what, sometimes, when I'm lying awake in bed at night, I like think about the perfect murder.
Me (a little confused, a little concerned): Huh?
Gary: The perfect murder. Getting away with it, scott free. I think I could do it. Did you ever think about that?
Me (starting to get weirded out): No.
Gary: I do all the time. I love plotting it out. I'm smart enough, you know? I could definitely get away with it. No one would ever be the wiser.
Me (weary): That's kind of strange...
Gary: I'd like to try it someday. I really think...
Me (getting out of my sleeping bag): You know, it's a nice night. I think I'll sleep outside.
Needless to say, I was creeped out. I hadn't though about this incident for awhile, but was reminded of it while watching Shohei Imamura's 1979 film, "Vengeance Is Mine." It's the story of a Japanese serial killer, who was on the run from the cops for 78 days during the mid or late 60's (I can't remember for sure, I think mid). It's a strange movie, laboriously paced, yet packed with plot. I like it though. It's got plenty of violence, boobs, and a twisted sense of humor. Plus the lead actor, Ken Ogata, is more than a little awesome. Really, what more could you ask of a film.
Oh, one last thing. Years later Gary and I were on the same highschool tennis team (I know, boy scouts and tennis? Yeah, I was a cool). He no longer talked about murder, but what he did do was wet his pants.
