Clarke definitely made a joke about my hair… but the real joke was that amidst the fear and exhilaration neither of us (Peddy nor I) had any means of recording with us. No video camera, no stills camera, no tape recorder, and no cellphone-all of it was back at the hotel. Thus my first lesson in making documentaries was never to leave the room without a camera as that is exactly when all the good stuff happens. And for those who don't know what I look like let me just say that Clarke and I differ dramatically in our stylistic choices. My long bleached dreadlocks and titanium hoop earrings stand in clear contrast to his thinning British hairline and rimless spectacles. We may share the same taste in sarongs but I couldn't tell from the long blanket that covered his legs. Despite the searing Sri Lankan heat Clarke was very comfortable bundled under his duvet with no AC and nothing but a slow ceiling fan to stir the air. Before I go on allow me to explain something. I didn't say that Clarke was unreachable in the sense that he was being held in an unknown underground black bunker somewhere. Certainly, if you are able to afford the cost and sustain the 10 to 20 hour flight (depending on where you come from) you will be able to walk up to his house, knock on the door and probably get a quick handshake and a nice picture for your family album. What I meant is that a passionate armada of assistants and agents surrounds him constantly and-under his guidance-ensure that the outside world is parceled based on importance and relevance. Being that I am two generations and several continents removed from Clarke and at least an entire generation below his closest staff member I certainly had the feeling that my honest desire to present his story to people my age would be politely ignored. Or as Clarke put it in his latest Egogram, "Every offer, however reasonable, should be responded to with a 'kindly drop dead'."

Clarke smiled at us from behind his large mahogany desk. Rows of books and a myriad of autographed photos completely covered the wall behind him and to our left side. We walked past a small seating area and were invited to sit down. The unexpected turn of events certainly didn't put us at ease, but imagine our surprise when all of a sudden Clarke declared that he knows me, that we've met somewhere, and that he absolutely knew Peddy, and that we spoke before. We assured him that while we thought about him long and hard in the past few months we never actually occupied the same space and time. He laughed; attributing his confusion either to my "crazy space hair" or the fact that it was a full moon outside… he said that he dreams a lot and that he isn't sure anybody's interested in it.

The first thing I realized when I saw this wonderful mind sitting in front of me is that the carbon based body it was encased in was certainly not immune to the ravages of that elusive of dimensions-time. It's strange, when you study a person for as long as I did, to finally meet him face to face. The symbol he becomes tends to be larger than the actual two-point-six cubic feet he actually occupies. I briefly explained to him that we came all the way from Israel, especially for his birthday, to present him with some gifts and get the most up-to-date snapshot of the human species. I said that while I had questions on anything from extra dimensions to extra-terrestrial intelligence, I was particularly interested in his view vis-à-vis the illogical affair of faith and reason. This seemed to have "switched him on" and he proceeded to deride religion as "a cruel evil invented by the "devil" to obscure "god"." It was certainly one of the better explanations I heard considering the fact that usually most of them seem to fall into the standard formula of RELIGION equals POWER HUNGRY INTELLIGENTSCIA plus TRULY HUNGRY MASSES times THE AVERAGE HUMAN'S INABILITY TO EXPLAIN EVERYTHING divided by AN INSANE FEAR OF DEATH.

Finally he was getting a little tired so we said we'd love to return tomorrow if possible. Clarke checked his calendar and said he could squeeze us in between his morning nap and his afternoon schlaaffstunde. I asked him how he felt and he said that he is being taken care of by his family and that for an ex-diver and Polio survivor he was doing pretty well for himself. I was never a sentimental person and quite frankly, until recently, I was certain I am the best thing that ever happened to me. But shaking the hand that shook hands with every astronaut that ever went to space, that operated the first RADAR, that penned all those marvelous lines, that sent man to the stars, had had a mystic effect on me. Or it could simply be the close proximity to kanyakumari- India's southernmost tip said to be a gateway between this world and several possible others. Clarke asked that we try to come early because that's when he's sharpest. Then he bellowed a loud "shalom" and we were out the door.

As we quietly walked back to our hotel I was lost in thought. I could only hope that we will be able to tap into the man's awesome power of extrapolation one more time and I'd like to think that our Mediterranean naiveté will prove the right way to go. Either way we are one step closer.

2005-12-16 17:21:51
4 questions

Me: how are you sir?

Clarke: ok, ok.

Me: Do you remember us from yesterday?

Clarke: speak up please.

Me: Can you hear me?

Clarke: yes, yes.

Me: You said that you don't believe in god but that you are very interested in him.

Clarke (smiling broadly): or her…

Me: …or her. What have you found?

Yalle - buffallo

That's how started and almost ended my entire interview. Let's rewind. The tuk-tuk dropped us in front of 25c Barnes Place, next door to the Iraqi Embassy. And on this particular morning I could swear it would've been easier for me to get an interview with the Iraqi ambassador than with Mr. Clarke but I quickly shook that thought out of my sleepless head. The night before was a ball of nerve wrecking anticipation spiked with the local Arrack, which the Sri Lankans distill from coconut juice to an inflammable golden spirit reminiscent of Scotch and Rum with a hint of Tequila.

Soren Kierkegard talks of three stages in the individual's development. The Aesthetic, which begins and ends in despair but which is full of pure indulgence, absolute free choice and no commitment. We all go through that stage and some of us, like Cosmo Kramer, never actually leave it. Then there's the Ethical stage, which is marked by a loss of individuality in favor of the universal rules of society and a commitment to making the right global choice regardless of the individual's desires-to which the working family man is a living epitome. The final stage is the Religious, which is marked by a paradox that states that the individual rises above himself and above society's rules and goes through life in leaps of faith-quite unlike going to church every Sunday or keeping kosher on Shabat. Our journey has compelled us to become religious. We HAVE to believe that we are doing the right thing. We had to believe that Clarke will talk to us or he simply wouldn't have. Believe that the old recluse would emerge from his shell one last time. On the surface everything was saying no. But just beneath the waves an entire cosmos was saying maybe. Sri Lanka's old name is Serendib, and serendipity played a big part in our pilgrimage. The day before the interview, in the middle of the worst looking and smelling place in Colombo's market district, we ran into Ajid, a Muslim clerk in the old Sri Lankan municipality. Ajid had a poetic take on life, which was summed up in "eating, sleeping, and fucking" but, sure enough, he told us that while jogging a few nights earlier he saw Clarke in his red Mercedes admiring the sunset on the Galle beachfront.

So we climbed again into the side office and met with Nalaka, Clarke's personal secretary. His courtesy didn't hide the fact that he was amazed that we got this far without going through the formal channels of rejection. I recounted the story so far and impressed on him the notion that we came out of respect, passion and genuine concern but he maintained that since he didn't know us and since the UK agent didn't know of us, then logically we didn't exist and therefore had to disappear and come back when we have proper clearance. I couldn't blame him but I wanted to. I couldn't understand why a man like Clarke wasn't documented around the clock in the hope that, perchance, he will have an enlightening piece of wisdom to share with the world. Quite frankly, I wasn't ready to accept the simple fact that perhaps Clarke felt that he was done with the world. I wasn't ready to give up on him.

In the midst of all the excitement we realized that we had no formal credentials on us. No business cards, no bios, no show reel, no references on demand or recommendations upon request. Nothing. We were aliens. Worse, we were suspected terrorists. On the secretary's insistence Peddy went back to the hotel to get our passports leaving me to slowly stew in the cozy one hundred five degrees office under the secretary's fiery gaze. I felt that at any moment he would turn to me and call the whole thing off. Peddy, in the meantime, didn't exactly have it easy. The tuk-tuk that drove him to the hotel ran out of gas half way there. Then the room door wouldn't open. Then the room safe wouldn't open. Finally, on the way back, a train pulled into the station but unlike a normal train it protruded into the road so no one could go through until it finished unloading and loading its passengers. A stupid train stood between Clarke and us and as time was running I knew Clarke's alertness was fading away toward his afternoon nap. I should have listened to the Tao.

Yalle - tsunami memorial 3

As if that wasn't bad enough, Hector Ekanayake came up while I was waiting. I couldn't tell if he remembered me from the day before but he seemed tense and almost angry as he stormed past me into the wing that housed Clarke. He came out five minutes later announcing that Clarke didn't really like to be filmed and that I could only ask him 4 questions! That's it. No do-overs. No second takes. No "10 minutes today, 10 minutes tomorrow". Nada mas. I couldn't believe that I came this far from so far to be faced with such an ultimatum. I was angry and hurt and selfish. And now I'm speculating, but how can it be that the people who wanted nothing but the best for Arthur would completely miss my intentions and refuse to co-operate until I got cleared by an agent, half way across the globe, who's never met me? Clarke didn't send a man to the moon by going with the grain. Why shouldn't I do the same? Granted, Clarke did send out a clear directive to refuse all media offers. But why then did he agree to see us? If the answer is always a positive no then why did his secretary let us in? And then why only 4 questions? But insane as it was it was the best offer I got so far. I grabbed it. Peddy arrived shortly after and as our passports smiled for the photocopy machine we went to set up in the study. Mr. Clarke was wheeled in and 15 minutes later we got ourselves an interview and a snapshot.

And now everybody is dying to know what was asked and what he said.

Let me say that we got much less than we wanted but much more than anyone will ever get. Not to infringe on any rights, I will hold off on the final tally of Q&A until I know for sure what is happening next or until the movie comes out. Don't hate me. Work with me here.

As a fan I can safely say that I'm glad I was able to see Sir Arthur C. Clarke on his birthday under a full moon, make him laugh with a "I invented the satellite and all I got was this lousy T-shirt" T-shirt, make him cry with breathtaking images from here to the edge of the universe in the "What's out there?" picture book, and make him think about life and everything. As a filmmaker, I've much to do to bridge the gap between intelligence and spirituality.

Slim as it may be, there is still a chance that we will meet him again. I am talking to the UK agent. I am trying. I don't even know if Clarke will want it, if his family will allow it, or if he will have the time and energy for another fifteen minutes of filming. But God knows the world needs it.

If He or She is listening, now will be a good time to do something.

2005-12-17 20:22:29
Time off

So we're playing the waiting game. Waiting for the UK agent to get back to us. Waiting for Clarke's secretary to get back to us. Waiting for the wheel to turn around. We're taking a few days off to explore the countryside and the myriad of cosmographic areas around Sri Lanka. These are places that are said to be gateways to another world.

In 1962 the Prime minister of India said that the time for war and politics is over and now is the time for Intelligence and Spirituality. It's been over 40 years and it seems that we are still barely scratching the surface. If Clarke won't speak, maybe he'll write to us and answer some of our questions. Otherwise, we'll have to start looking elsewhere for answers.

Fax to Mr. Clarke, Wednesday, December 28, 2005
From Lio Spiegler

This is a fax from Lio Spiegler, the Israeli with the "crazy space hair" that came to see you withhis friend less than 2 weeks ago. Your secretary suggested that the best way to receive answersfrom you is via fax.

When we first met you seemed eager to talk and we have made an appointment to meet the nextday. We have met on the 15th where I presented you with a funny T-shirt and a book with the most recent pictures from the outer limits of space. I hope you enjoy them. Unfortunately ourmeeting was extremely brief and I was only allowed 4 questions-hardly enough to satisfy mycuriosity or yours. Since I couldn't see you in the meantime, I have taken some time to travelaround the island you have made your home. I met some wonderful people and saw some amazing proof for human ingenuity. Most of all, the people I've met from Sri Lanka and abroad expressed a genuine desire to hear you and see you on film.

Mr. Clarke, as I said in my last email to you I am very interested in doing a documentary filmabout your remarkable life of firsts, beyond the satellite and Space Odyssey. I would like to frame this film around a series of timeless and timely questions-some of which you've heard when we spoke-that will bring viewers closer to your wonderful mind and, in the process, shed some lightabout the future of mankind. I hope you are interested as well.

Yalle - wild peacock

I don't know if you've received my recent emails but I have been trying to arrange for anotherinterview with you. Unfortunately, neither your agents nor your secretaries have gotten back tome. I know that you, as they, must be busy with the holidays and that you tire easily but even 20minutes at a time would suffice to cover a lot of ground.

I am about to leave Colombo but would love to meet for another interview. If you think this is apossibility, please don't hesitate to let me know. I am staying at the Taj Samudra in Colombo,room # 318, the phone number here is 244 6622.

I'm sure you've addressed some of the questions I have in your books but the desire is to get themost up to date snapshot of our civilization. The best way is a one-on-one interview but I will settle for a satellite interview or for faxed answers.

I am working feverishly to get the necessary clearance from all the agents and there is a goodchance we will meet again soon. In the meantime, I am faxing the list of questions and would greatly appreciate it if you could address any or all of them at your convenience.

You can fax or email your response to
Lio Spiegler
+ 972 3 561 0882
or +972 3 642 5041
B4I8U2@HOTMAIL.COM

Mr. Clarke, even if we never meet again I hope our visit has brought you joy. You are a trueinspiration and I can only hope you're planning to stick around for the Hilton Orbiter inaugurationor until I secure the formal clearance to film you-whichever comes first…

Happy New Year and Shalom,
Lio

2005-12-24 00:29:22
Spirituality and suffering

No news yet from anyone. Not even a "kindly drop dead" for Xmass.

Clarke's secretary didn't even respond to my courtesy email. Clarke's UK agent didn't reply to my plea for clearance. if I didn't know better I would swear everyone is working together to prevent the world from hearing Clarke's final prophecy.

I wish it were so dramatic. I guess the reality is that too many people have a function to fill around Arthur and their "job" is more important than ensuring that this great man is documented on every second that he can breath. And he can barely even do that.

Yesterday we arrived at Sri Pada (Adam's Peak). This powerful mountain is lodged like a crisp dark triangle between chains of green ridges. It is a sacred site for Buddhists, Muslims, and Christians, and it became quite momentous for a couple of Jews as well. People come from all over to climb this mountain in a religious experience equal to the Muslim Hajj. We are not religious and can barely believe half the things we can't see but after about three thousand steps you are bound to get a little holy. Holy shit that is. When we set out at 3am we couldn't even see the top of the mountain we were scaling. We knew the trail was about 7km long and roughly 1.1km tall but nothing could prepare us for the actual scaling. Well, that's not exactly true since anyone who had read Clarke's Rendezvous with Rama knows that the insane staircase and ladders that led from the center of the flying cylinder to the flat world inside it was modeled, rightfully, after Adam's peak. I'm not sure Clarke has even scaled it but he is not likely to any time soon since they are still working on the handicapped parking place below and the cable car will not make an appearance before the end of this century. It took us about 3 hours of straight climbing. If you're not a spiritual man when you leave, you become one around the 4500th step, just before you can make out the final plateau at the top. Shaped like an ominous flattop pyramid, the tiny platform at the apex houses two small temples. One contains the footprint of Adam or of a Hindu god -depending on who you ask. The other structure houses a bell that climbers can tall while making a wish. I wished for a blanket and hot tea. No luck. Marvelous sunrise nonetheless.

I am not sure but I am beginning to see a pattern. It seems that anywhere you turn, religious experience is always associated with pain and suffering. Why is that? Why can't we have a little bit of pain to remind us that we are human and then a nice escalator to a higher level of existence? Kierkegaard said the aesthetic stage begins and ends with despair but that a true leap of faith is done with fear and trembling. Yesterday I felt a little bit of both. Our host at the lodge below the trail said that the mountain had cured him of diabetes. He showed us his foot, which was scheduled to be amputated a few years ago. I don't know if science helped him out or what, but after climbing the mountain over a hundred times I guess it finally took pity on him. Which is more than you could say for the thousands of butterflies that fly to the top to die.

If there is a connection between western manipulation of matter and eastern transcendence of time -we haven't found it yet. But we are looking. I'm sorry I can't write more often but Internet service here is as much spiritual as it is scientific. More from Colombo after Xmass, which, for a Buddhist country is quite sickeningly pervasive.

Well, gotta be merry.

2005-12-24 11:39:07
Captain's log: Earthdate 241205

There comes a time when one must admit defeat. For me that time has not yet come.

But it is time to make some tough decisions. I came here to try and interview Arthur C. Clarke as a basis for a documentary film about his life and about our future. I got an interview. More accurately, I got an interrogation. I am trying to be nice to everyone and play the game and anyone who knows me will agree that it is not an easy job for me. But out of respect for Clarke I tried. I wanted to make a film about clairvoyance but instead I am reduced to bureaucracy.