I suppose you might be curious to know what a man can be like who does not love men. Very well, I am such a man, and I love them so little that soon I am going out and kill half a dozen of them: perhaps you might wonder why only half a dozen? Because my revolver has only six cartridges. A monstrosity, isn’t it? … I was born like that. - Erostratus, Jean-Paul Sartre
Bad Behavior Has Great Rewards
EROSTRATUS
… everything went along much better starting from the day I bought a revolver. You feel strong when you assiduously carry on your person something that can explode and make a noise … I simply put it in my pants pocket and then went out for a walk … I felt it pulling at my pants like a crab, I felt it cold against my thigh. But little by little it got warmer with the contact of my body. I walked with a certain stiffness, I looked like a man with a hard-on, with his thing sticking out at every step. I slipped my hand in my pocket and felt the object … As a result, I never went out without my revolver … I looked at people’s backs, and I imagined, from their walk, the way they would fall if I shot them
“I know your character,”he said to me. “His name is Erostratus. He wanted to become famous and he couldn’t find anything better to do than to burn down the temple of Ephesus, one of the seven wonders of the world.”
“And what was the name of the man who built the temple?”
“I don’t remember,” he confessed. “I don’t believe anybody knows his name.”
“Really? But you remember the name of Erostratus? You see, he didn’t figure out things too badly.”
… Erostratus, his story was encouraging. He had been dead for more than two thousand years and his act was still shining like a black diamond. I began to think my destiny would be short and tragic … I felt a strange power in my body when I went down into the street. I had my revolver on me, the thing that explodes and makes noise. But I no longer drew my assurance from that, it was from myself; I was a being like a revolver, a torpedo or a bomb. I too, one day at the end of my somber life, would explode and light the world with a flash as short and violent as magnesium.
“Why must I kill all these people who are dead already?”
I let myself become slowly occupied by my crime. In the mirror, to which I often went to look at myself, I noticed the changes in my face with pleasure. The eyes had grown larger, they seemed to be eating up the whole face. They were black and tender behind the glasses and I rolled them like planets. The fine eyes of an artist or assassin.
When the big man passed me, I jumped and followed him … I took out my revolver: it was cold and bright, it disgusted me, I couldn’t remember very well what I was supposed to do with it … I wondered if I wasn’t going to throw my revolver into the sewer. Suddenly, the man turned around and looked at me, irritated … Then I knew I was going to start screaming. I didn’t want to: I shot him three times in the belly. He fell with an idiotic look on his face … I ran as fast as my legs could carry me … I shot twice. People began to scream and scatter … I ran into a cafe … and locked myself in the lavatory. There was still one bullet in my revolver … After a while, a voice said, “All right, open up. We won’t hurt you.” … I told myself, “If they get me , they’re going to beat me, break my teeth, maybe put an eye out.” … I hurriedly put the barrel of the gun in my mouth, and I bit hard on it. But I couldn’t shoot, I couldn’t even put my finger on the trigger. Everything was dead silent.
I threw away the revolver and opened the door. - Erostratus, Jean-Paul Sartre
I Hate the Weakness
It's a Shame isn't it? The Old Monsters are a thing of the Past. No one is afraid of Wolfman anymore. You're more afraid of your Neighbor than you are of Wolfman. The Horrible isn't a fantasy anymore. The Horrible is next door. Your cousin, your Mailman, your Wife... Who's going to Cut your Throat Tonight? - The Doctor
