
The Mysterious Dr. Tallon. Boy poet, filmmaker & apparent dweller in the opium parlors of 19th Century Limehouse.
Child of the same backwoods that inspired H.P. Lovecraft’s “The Whisperer in The Darkness” & now transplanted to New York City. Straight up 11211, the hippest palindromic zipcode of these United States.
Having found his mad Rimbaud book on the consignment rack of the St. Mark’s Bookshop– first, second & third impressions: “This is the craziest thing I’ve ever seen.”– I deciphered the various clues and codes and maps included therein and hunted down our man. We’ve been pals of the bossom ever since. Let me sleep in his bed. Was very concerned about the number of pillows.
Had borrowed a magick lantern & through it projected his magnum opus. A film that he’s been laboring on either 6 or 2 years, or his whole life, depending on your system of mathematics. As the lights went dark, I had a pang of worry– like, what if it sucked?– but that was only The Adversary giving ugly thoughts. I need not have worried. It’s a massive achievement.
Does a mean impersonation of Jim Carroll & demanded a rewrite on 2/3rds of this content.
At the ripest age of them all: 28.
December 18-19th, 2007.
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Hollywood Nazis
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So you are alive and in NYC! You look more like Jack the Ripper or is it Riper? I miss the Tallon that I read every night for his poems and his insights.