Salon.com > Russ Spencer

A close encounter with Chris Carter

Fri, 28 Apr 2000 16:00:00 +0000

Chris Carter, the world leader of the sci-fi geeks, is also the definitive anti-geek. You
might expect the brain behind "The X-Files" to look like one of those guys you see at
the "Star Trek" conventions sporting a mullet haircut and glasses held together with
duct tape, but Carter doesn't even wear glasses. He's tall, tanned and handsome,
well-scrubbed and well put together.

He made a rare public appearance recently in Santa Barbara, Calif., which is where he
lives part-time. It's also the place he most likes to surf. That's what they say about
him in the online chat rooms, anyway. They also say his nickname is "Carver" from his
days as a writer for Surfing, and that he surfs goofy-foot, which means he keeps his
right foot forward. He chose the character name Mulder because it's his mom's maiden
name and named Scully after famed baseball announcer Vin Scully. But if you're an
"X-Files" fan worth your salt, you already knew that. There's little they don't know about
him, those fans. In the chat rooms, Carter is commonly referred to as "God."

Sissyfight

Thu, 27 Apr 2000 16:00:00 +0000

You might be surprised to hear this, but one of the masterminds behind the Web's nastiest and most notorious new interactive game -- Sissyfight 2000 -- is a card-carrying academic brainiac. Eric Zimmerman, a freelance game designer out of Manhattan, is also an adjunct professor at the Parsons School of Design and New York University. The 30-year-old intellectual/geek has lectured at more than 30 universities about the aesthetics of video games, writes scholarly papers on the social theories of play and discusses his chosen field with a hybrid lyricism, mixing words like "transgressive" and "butt-ugly" in the same sentence. Which, at first, belies the fact that Zimmerman, along with the staff of Word.com, helped create the meanest, most popular little back-stabbing game on the Net.

Where you find it

Sat, 25 Mar 2000 17:00:00 +0000

A crummy old plastic bag floating in the wind above a dirty sidewalk. It's not an image that one might immediately think of as beautiful, or moving, or important. But it is perhaps the most beautiful moment in this year's most beautiful film -- "American Beauty" -- a moment that sums up the lyrical grace of the film, and embodies the idea that fate does what it wants with us, and even if we are going around in circles on a dirty street, ultimately, if seen from the outside, there is a beauty in our little dance.

I went to a script-writing seminar a few weeks back that was attended by six of the year's best screenwriters, three of them Oscar contenders -- Charlie Kaufman, who wrote "Being John Malkovich," Eric Roth, who co-wrote "The Insider" and Alan Ball, who wrote "American Beauty." Much of the attention in the seminar, both from the audience and from the other members of the panel, focused on Ball, for obvious reasons. Not only is he the front-runner for the Oscar, and not only will "American Beauty" most likely win best picture, but there is a kind of newness to the tone of "American Beauty" that makes it almost seem like a landmark film, a kind of paradigm shift in the portrayal of the pain and despair of everyday life in ways that recognize both its comedic and tragic aspects and make it seem, ultimately, all worth it.

Striptease U.

Mon, 07 Feb 2000 17:00:00 +0000

Until last week, there weren't too many places a bashful novice could go for professional striptease instruction. And what a shame that was. Because these days, a professional "house dancer" or "feature entertainer" working in a "gentleman's club" can earn upwards of $100,000 a year, sometimes a lot more. And good coin isn't the only perk. She has her days free, the work keeps her in good shape and she gets to claim her Victoria's Secret bills as a tax deduction.

The Pure Talent School of Dance recently opened its doors -- or rather, the doors belonging to Scarlett's, an "upscale gentleman's club" in Clearwater, Fla. -- to help aspiring strippers make the most of their God-given talent. Twelve young women, from Kentucky, California, New Jersey and other far-flung locations, showed up for the first day of classes.

The school is run by the Pure Talent Agency, which represents 250 adult dancers, booking them at more than 2,500 gentleman's clubs nationwide. Pure Talent plans to host its weeklong course once a month, and the owners say there is already a waiting list of aspiring entertainers.