Q.
The Raptors.
Q.
No, the name of the team is the Raptors. I'm a human.
Q.
Listen to me. I am not literally a dinosaur.
Q.
My neck is perfectly normal-sized.
Q.
What the fuck is a Cardassian?
Q.
What the fuck is Star Trek: Deep Space Nine?
Q.
I buy my food at a grocery store, man, I'm not a pack hunter. Are you going to ask me any serious questions?
Q.
I really enjoy playing in Toronto. I think Canada's really neat. It's a neat place. It's just really neat.
Q.
Off the record? It's fucking Canada, guy. Of course it blows.
Q.
No, I'm not a fucking dinosaur. You know what? We're done here.
Q.
OK, that's it. Yeah, I'm actually a raptor. Watch this!
Q.
You asked for it. Ew. When was the last time you washed your neck?
Q.
Call your own damn ambulance. I've got a date with a gallimimus. I'm out.
*****
I Googled "Brief Interviews With Hideous Men" the other day, and the Radmanovic interview was on the first page of results. That's troubling to me, so I thought I'd better explain what the hell is going on.
The format for these interviews is taken from David Foster Wallace's extraordinary book of the same name, which includes a series of interviews in which the questions are not seen. Seriously, the book is astonishingly good, as one might expect what with it being written by the greatest living writer of the English language and all. And no, I'm not just saying that to avoid a cease and desist letter (I'm pretty sure this is fair parody); I'm saying that to encourage him to write another novel, for pity's sake. It's been ten years. Come on. We're waiting, our breath bated. Please. I'll beg if I have to.
So if you came here looking for the DFW book: buy it. If you came here looking for real interviews with physically ugly individuals, no dice. Alors. Good luck.
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