裸體午餐

剛看了91年產的電影"Naked Lunch", 非常另類的電影﹐很迷幻的感覺。由David Cronenberg 依據William S. Burroughs的書(曾在美國被禁)作藍本攝製。看看影評﹐多數也說是沉迷毒品的年代﹐但自己看完後反而覺得和毒品無太大的關係。無論是黃粉﹑黑粉﹑黑膏﹐甚至外星腦汁﹐怎樣看也不像簡簡單單令人迷幻的毒品﹐而可以是人世間許多令人沉迷的事物。而當中最毒的﹐就是無法令人自拔的思想﹐要戒掉黃色的殺蟲粉嘛? 慢慢揉合黑色的粉末﹐從而轉換﹐你看不到改變﹐但改變就是會自然的取而代之。記得自己有試過把自己的陋習轉移過嗎?

自己﹐昆蟲﹐毒梟﹐每個角色或多或少也是某種醒覺﹐或某種沉迷﹐有些片段看過後也不清楚是否還埋伏了些更抽像的寓意﹐因為當中帶著些不知是否被鋪排的凌亂感。我想﹐遲些還需要看多次﹐才能肯定有沒有遺漏了一些甚麼訊息。我﹐真的是在做選擇嗎?

下面第一段對話﹐只是一開場的對白﹐已警戒了你這不是一齣普通戲。當然﹐也有不少人看過後說這套電影是無法理解的垃圾。至於下面第二段的故事﹐是用來送給不喜歡的人。因為世界正是太多這種人了。(呠~~~~)

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Hank:"They can either paint it, or draw it, or write it down
and then pass it on to somebody.
They read what you're saying, and then they reexperience.
That's the only connection you have with that, man.
So you can't rewrite... 'cause to rewrite is to deceive and lie...
and you betray your own thoughts.
To rethink the flow and the rhythm
and the tumbling out of the words...
is a betrayal.
And it's a sin, Martin.
It's a sin."

Martin:
"I don't accept your, uh...
Catholic interpretation of my compulsive, uh... necessity to rewrite
every single word at least 200 times.
Guilt is -Thanks.
Guilt is the key, not sin.
Guilt 're not writing the best that I can.
Guilt 're not, uh, considering everything from every possible angle.
Balancing everything."

Hank: "Well, how about guilt re-censoring your best thoughts?
Your most honest, primitive, real thoughts...
because that's what your laborious rewriting amounts to, Martin."

Martin:"Is rewriting really censorship, Bill?
Because I'm completely fucked if it is."

Bill:"Exterminate all rational thought.
That is the conclusion I have come to."

Martin:"What is the man talking about? I'm being serious."

Hank:"So is he."

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Did I ever tell you about the man
who taught his asshole to talk?

His whole abdomen would move up and down,
you dig, farting out the words.
It was unlike anything I ever heard.
Bubbly, thick, stagnant sound.
A sound you could smell.
This man worked for the carnival,you dig?
And to start with it was
like a novelty ventriloquist act.
After a while, the ass started talking on its own.
He would go in without anything prepared...
and his ass would ad-lib and toss the gags back at him every time.
Then it developed sort of teethlike...
little raspy incurving hooks and started eating.
He thought this was cute at first and built an act around it...
but the asshole would eat its way through
his pants and start talking on the street...
shouting out it wanted equal rights.
It would get drunk, too, and have crying jags.
Nobody loved it.
And it wanted to be kissed,
same as any other mouth.

Finally, it talked all the time,
day and night.
You could hear him for blocks,
screaming at it to shut up...
beating at it with his fists...
and sticking candles up it, but...
nothing did any good,
and the asshole said to him...
"It is you who will shut up in the end, not me...
because we don't need you around here anymore.
I can talk and eat and shit."
After that, he began waking up
in the morning with transparent jelly...
like a tadpole's tail all over his mouth.
He would tear it off his mouth
and the pieces would stick to his hands...
like burning gasoline jelly and grow there.
So, finally, his mouth sealed over...
and the whole head...
would have amputated spontaneously
except for the eyes, you dig?
That's the one thing
that the asshole couldn't do was see.
It needed the eyes.
Nerve connections were blocked...
and infiltrated and atrophied.
So, the brain couldn't give orders anymore.

It was trapped inside the skull...
sealed off.

For a while, you could see...
the silent, helpless suffering
of the brain behind the eyes.

And then finally
the brain must have died...

because the eyes went out...

and there was no more feeling in them
than a crab's eye at the end of a stalk.