Lame

It was the downtown scene, but not in the heart of the city itself, but in one of the outlying, mini-downtowns outside the main core. Not quite suburbia, but still its own little mini downtown. And I was in the scene.

I was producing and directing and finding all of the talent for a new show, on public access I could only guess, called simply "Lame." It was ironic and bitter and biting and socially commentative all at the same time, depending on your point of view. Or it could be purely artistic. I offered no comment, only featured performers and others willing to go on camera and simply do what they did.

Today was some guy from Japan--who couldn't speak a lick of goddamn English--and his gig was eating strangers' toenails. He'd cut them, fondle them, and then just chew them up, right there on the street. He was clearly a fetishist, from the pure rapture he exhibited in the practice, but there was more to him, I felt. He'd just get people to agree on the street to drop their shoes and socks, and he'd snip all kinds of toenails right there, and then just pop them in. There was more than enough pure carny in this act, but I felt there was just a little more. He was equal opportunity in his act, which I loved.

I shot quite a bit of him doing his thing in various venues, but then turned to some kind of act that I knew to be arriving via parachute. I was in an open-air mall, about three stories around me on all four sides, and I wasn't too sure about the safety of them coming in. I didn't know anything about the act, what they did and how, and if it would even be interesting, but I was more than willing to film a few folks drifting into this open-air mall in broad daylight without any warning.

I wondered if there was any liability in it for me.