
I’m fond of video. I enjoy watching people who are long dead suddenly come back to life in a discolored, crumpled piece of film strip. It’s like engaging old heroes in dreams, attempting conversation with one of them as he trods along, unaware of his audience. He repeats the same movements and actions over and over again, slumping on a chair, slurring his words, smoking a cigarette or reciting poetry. Ghosts in black and white, drifting across the monitor, silently smiling or brooding. It’s all wonderful.
Here are some videos of dead writers; ghosts on the TV screen. The Native Americans were right — film does capture the soul.
Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Jack Kerouac
Henry Miller
Anais Nin
JG Ballard
Allen Ginsberg
Hunter S. Thompson
Georges Batailles
Charles Bukowski
Pablo Neruda
Ken Kesey



ah, henry miller