Mister Lonely-No-More: Harmony Korine Takes Our Quiz
Nick Haramis
January 05, 2009
For quite some time, things weren’t looking good for Harmony Korine, the 35-year-old writer of Kids and experimental director behind dogmatic and divisive films like Gummo and Julien Donkey-Boy. But, rather triumphantly, he overcame a crippling drug addiction and was welcomed back into the spotlight with last year’s heartbreaking Mister Lonely, his first feature in eight years. He just released The Collected Fanzines (Drag City), a series of eight amateur publications that were produced over the past 15 years, which feature musings, ramblings and Matt Dillon’s old phone number. Here, the ultimate bad-boy of American cinema, unleashed.
Biggest Compliment: I once walked a poodle at a dog show in the summer of 1988. The judge pulled me to the side after the contest and whispered in my ear, “I like the way you work a leash.”
Best Celebrity Rumor: I can’t say exactly, but it involved a dead starlet and a swimming pool of semen.
Worst Beating: An illiterate fifth grade teacher I had from the Ozarks burned my cheek with a scalding metal spoon. I had caught her meditating in the dark after school—she had made an altar out of hundreds of stuffed animals. She was burning a tiny effigy of her husband. The hot spoon was a silent reminder of what was to come if I dared inform the authorities. Ten years later, this same woman went on to become a prominent member of the House of Representatives.
Most Colorful Lie: The last lie I told was in the spring of 1998, and it was a whopper, I’ll admit. But it saved my life and allowed my second cousin twice removed to have an early release from a rural, sub-par mental institution.
Best Prank: Success.
Worst Run-in with Police: That involved a hit-and-run on the part of the pigs. They know what they did.
Biggest Risk: Juggling three small egg crates filled with dookie in an attempt to seduce a wayward MILF named Tammy.
Inspirations: Peace of mind. A mellow life. Crunk music. Investing in spy equipment and communist memorabilia. Having dance contests with myself. Placing last in the local triathlon. All of these things, plus a firm belief in the Lord.
Lonely is… what life was like when I was an orphan.
First Childhood Memory: Getting smacked in the face by a gimp.
Proudest Moment: When I gave up glue.
Biggest Extravagance: Milk sacks and diet cola.
Best Way to Die: Wrapped in tin foil and praying to Allah.
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