Encounter With Ellison
By John McGondel

On Friday night Oct. 30th Harlan Ellison, one of the greatest, if not 
THE greatest, and most prolific writers of speculative fiction was a guest 
lecturer for the Boston Center for Adult Education. 
          For those who have actually had the honor of experiencing Ellison in 
person, and for those who know him through his writings, many adjectives 
come immediately to mind: arrogant, ego-centric, blunt, obtrusive, sarcastic, 
uncompromising, loud-mouthed, foul-mouthed, vitriolic, maniacal, cynical, 
over-bearing, ill-tempered, intolerant, and vengeful are but a few of the more 
positive ones.
	True to form, Ellison exhibited all of the above-expected traits plus 
numerous others.  The lecture was held at, of all places, the Arlington Street 
Church in Boston, and let the records show that Ellison entered the church,  
promptly defamed it in his usual manner, and was able to put on a successful 
program complete with book signings and reception afterward. All without a 
rumble from above.  Not one lightning bolt.  It would appear that not just us 
mortals are in awe of Mr. Ellison.
	He quickly used the podium to make mincemeat of several well 
known TV, radio, and literary personalities, while still taking the time to 
berate a fellow writer who has been slow to repay a debt.  He then managed 
to spend no small amount of time dragging his sister Beverly through the 
mud.  The man spares no one.  His observations seem to be a way of 
showing us, or warning us, that he is the consummate literalist whom will 
tolerate no less than perfection in his work, ergo, he has the same inherent 
rights to insist upon nothing less from the rest of us.  If you need to be put in 
your place, Ellison will do so with relish, (And maybe a little mustard).
	The church is a huge gothic cathedral and was a perfect venue for 
Ellison's rantings and ravings.  With his height (or lack thereof), and now 
that he has a rather generous paunch, the most accurate way to describe him 
in person is this: mix equal parts Robin Williams and Mick Jagger in a 
blender. Add some well- seasoned cobra snake venom, and a healthy dose of 
crack cocaine. Then have Joe Pesci drink it.  He strutted up and down the 
aisles, gesticulating like a wild man.  He bounded up onto the altar and 
shook his fist towards the heavens, bellowing into the microphone.  A 
demented evangelist at a tent revival. He is a passionate showman and 
shameless shaman.  And  comedian extraordinaire.  A one-man band and an 
instant circus. 
	But always his eyes are missing nothing.  They sparkle like twin 
lasers, capable of scanning the room or pinning you to the wall.  His voice is 
powerful and vibrant, and his dialogue crisp, tailored and always insightful.  
There was a woman doing sign language besides him, translating his words, 
and Ellison seemed to take that as a personal challenge.  The resultant duel 
was a constant source of entertainment in and of itself.  His non-stop motor-
mouthed rhetoric and her hands a blur trying to keep up with him.
	Then there was a guy who asked Ellison where he had bought his 
jacket, which was a mustard yellow carnival barker's style polyester piece.  
Ellison asked the man "Why?" to which the man responded, "I'd like to get 
one like it."  At that point, while still lecturing, Ellison walked over to the 
man, took off the yellow coat, and gave it to him, without missing a word. 

(****editor's note****:  when this piece was sent to Ellison for vetting, he 
left a three-minute rant on my answering machine in which he described himself
as "inarticulate with rage" over an error in the piece and demanded I call him
immediately.  Subsequent discussion revealed the "polyester piece" Harlan gave
away was in fact a $500 cashmere Hugo Boss jacket.  I will spare you the
evil of Lovecraftian magnitude which was ascribed to this error, suffice it to 
say that HE does NOT wear polyester.  We now return you to the review...)

And when this big old middle-aged hippie guy with long gray hair 
developed a persistent cough while Harlan was speaking, instead of getting 
mad, Ellison stopped the show to give the man a throat lozenge and a glass 
of water, then invited the man to sit up on the stage with him.
	That's Ellison.  He'll make you laugh.  And make you cry.  Though 
uncontrollable and unpredictable, he'll always make you think. He is the 
little kid in all of us who got kicked around by the school bully, but who 
fought his way to the top and he can now bully the bullies.  He could be 
Rambo's drill sergeant.  An encounter with Ellison is like getting a bit of 
sado-masochistic brain candy to shock us out of our complacency.
          His lectures are a must-do for all intelligent people. If you get the 
chance, buy a ticket. Then check your ego at the door, put your seatbelt on, 
and hold on for a magic carpet ride. You'll always get at least twice your 
money's worth.  
And Harlan, if you ever read this: Thanks again for that throat lozenge.