Slowly I pass, like one who comes from so far
that he does not think about arriving
Borges In praise of serenity
In a detective novel of which I forgot the title, someone commits a murder with an icicle.
What is it exactly: ‘to commit a murder’? Does a killer cherish his victim, himself, his weapon? Aggressive people are often techno-fetishists, men who continually wriggle coins in their trouser pocket as if it were their prick, or lovingly fondle a concealed knife they need to pick a bone with someone, whomever. People, who like to have a pair of antlers hanging over their fireplace, rifles hanging on the wall.
In their chilling film No Country for Old Men Joel and Ethan Coen put an over sized spray canister in the hands of their mega-killer.
With a steel-straight face this butcher has ‘heads or tails’ decide over the life and death of his victims. Under high pressure the ‘gun’ attached to the canister shoots an air pulse into the brains or bangs out the locks from its door. Like the icicle, leaving no trace.
He is as unmoved as the chilling device with which he finishes people’s lives. Without a trace both fetish and fetishist lose themselves in each other. Man become the Thing incarnate.
As Polanski, in The Fearless Vampire Killers, has a silly professor of good will stupidly helping evil spread over this world, in No Country for Old Men two friendly boys aid the creep with the canister escape.
Could it be, that the inspiration comes from Shakespeare’s Othello, who said to Iago: “If that thou be’st a devil, I cannot kill thee.” Othello then adds: “I am not sorry neither: I’d have thee live; For, in my sense, ‘tis happiness to die.” Evil, like Coen’s Butcher ‘tortured’, but living on.
Jenseits von Gut und Böse – Beyond good and evil.
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Sierksma, Haarlem January 2010