Harlan Ellison

Grow up, Harlan!, we've been wanting to tell him for the last, oh, 20 or 30 years. "Angry Candy" might make you stop wanting to tell him, which is fortunate, because it wouldn't do any good. "This is a book of stories that you may think of as angry candy," Harlan Ellison tells the reader, with characteristic bossiness, in his Introduction; then he asserts that "they will please and entertain." And damned if they don't.

Re the cover story on James Cameron and his new TV series "Dark Angel" ("Hey, It's a Small World--and He's Adjusting," by Greg Braxton, Sept. 24): In the mid-1980s, author Harlan Ellison made some legal rumblings in Cameron's direction concerning the similarity between the story line of "The Terminator" and stories Ellison had written years earlier. As a result, video versions of the film contain an added line in the credits "acknowledging" the work of Ellison. Now comes the news that "Dark Angel" will follow the adventures of a young, "genetically enhanced" superhuman female, working as a messenger in a future America that has undergone social breakdown.

What's behind the full-page ad in the trade papers the other day in which Hemdale Film Corp. "acknowledges the works of Harlan Ellison" following a "dispute" regarding "The Terminator"? Why does a similar acknowledgement appear at the end of the new "Terminator" videocassette and on prints destined for cable TV?

The rain forest ecologist, the famously grumpy novelist, the state park executive and the board members of an exclusive private school have never met in the same room. But working the levers of love and obsession independently over the past 20 years, they have fashioned a remarkable deal to preserve the beauty and beasts of a wooded Sherman Oaks canyon. And strangely enough, one of the ultimate winners may be Tarzan. You remember: loincloth, Lord of the Jungle, "you Jane"? That one.

In January, 1981, when I was a miserably unhappy graduate student at MIT, one of my friends dragged me to a lecture by Harlan Ellison. I didn't want to go; I wasn't in the mood to listen to some rich, successful writer spout cliches. I was too busy wallowing in my career crisis. What I heard that night was an astonishing, 3 1/2-hour web of interlocking stories delivered at high speed and without notes, a positive frenzy of communication. His message was simple: Nothing less than your best should ever be good enough.

Ten Reasons for a Long TV and Movie Writers Strike: --Nothing is nobler than the struggle of the overpaid to be more overpaid. --It's refreshing to see a labor dispute where bread-and-butter issues are replaced by croissant-and-caviar issues. --The money for the poorest TV writer's salary will be freed to feed the entire nation of Ethiopia. --If it goes on long enough, bean-field workers will go out in sympathy for Harlan Ellison. --The average American may turn from watching TV six hours a day to reading, eventually replacing the networks with something new: literacy!

Re the cover story on James Cameron and his new TV series "Dark Angel" ("Hey, It's a Small World--and He's Adjusting," by Greg Braxton, Sept. 24): In the mid-1980s, author Harlan Ellison made some legal rumblings in Cameron's direction concerning the similarity between the story line of "The Terminator" and stories Ellison had written years earlier. As a result, video versions of the film contain an added line in the credits "acknowledging" the work of Ellison. Now comes the news that "Dark Angel" will follow the adventures of a young, "genetically enhanced" superhuman female, working as a messenger in a future America that has undergone social breakdown.

Anyone who's seen either the original "Terminator" or "Terminator 2" knows the cyborg from the future is practically unstoppable. As though snuffing out dozens of people while raking in millions at the box office isn't enough, it turns out he can do one more thing: remove screen credits. At least that's what Edgar Award-winning writer Harlan Ellison thinks. And he ought to know. It's his credit.

The eager, sober-faced audience knew they were in for it when Harlan Ellison asked how many of his listeners fancied themselves writers. More than half the crowd of about 160 people shifting uncomfortably on hard chairs in a room at the Warner Center Marriott raised their hands. Ellison, who has written stories about people caught flat-footed and slack-jawed in the face of unexpected danger, paused a moment, perhaps to allow the weaker-willed people time to flee before he pounced.

"Artists are damn fools and deserve what they get. They deserve to be ripped off and beaten down. They deserve to be used and to make millions for others. They deserve it because they are stupid and naive." With characteristic irreverence, novelist and screenwriter Harlan Ellison delivered a fulmination Saturday during "A Day's Pay for a Day's Art."

The eager, sober-faced audience knew they were in for it when Harlan Ellison asked how many of his listeners fancied themselves writers. More than half the crowd of about 160 people shifting uncomfortably on hard chairs in a room at the Warner Center Marriott raised their hands. Ellison, who has written stories about people caught flat-footed and slack-jawed in the face of unexpected danger, paused a moment, perhaps to allow the weaker-willed people time to flee before he pounced.

Anyone who's seen either the original "Terminator" or "Terminator 2" knows the cyborg from the future is practically unstoppable. As though snuffing out dozens of people while raking in millions at the box office isn't enough, it turns out he can do one more thing: remove screen credits. At least that's what Edgar Award-winning writer Harlan Ellison thinks. And he ought to know. It's his credit.

In January, 1981, when I was a miserably unhappy graduate student at MIT, one of my friends dragged me to a lecture by Harlan Ellison. I didn't want to go; I wasn't in the mood to listen to some rich, successful writer spout cliches. I was too busy wallowing in my career crisis. What I heard that night was an astonishing, 3 1/2-hour web of interlocking stories delivered at high speed and without notes, a positive frenzy of communication. His message was simple: Nothing less than your best should ever be good enough.

"I'M SUICIDAL," says Harlan Ellison cheerfully. "I'll throw it all down the tube. I don't care." Ellison is sitting in the Art Deco dining nook of his house in the hills above Sherman Oaks and explaining why he walked away from a $4,000-a-week job writing stories for the revived "Twilight Zone" in 1985. For the Christmas show, Ellison had made his contribution to the battle against racism with an 11-minute segment about a black Santa anti-Claus who preys on white bigots.

Grow up, Harlan!, we've been wanting to tell him for the last, oh, 20 or 30 years. "Angry Candy" might make you stop wanting to tell him, which is fortunate, because it wouldn't do any good. "This is a book of stories that you may think of as angry candy," Harlan Ellison tells the reader, with characteristic bossiness, in his Introduction; then he asserts that "they will please and entertain." And damned if they don't.

"Artists are damn fools and deserve what they get. They deserve to be ripped off and beaten down. They deserve to be used and to make millions for others. They deserve it because they are stupid and naive." With characteristic irreverence, novelist and screenwriter Harlan Ellison delivered a fulmination Saturday during "A Day's Pay for a Day's Art."

Suppose you saw a car commercial that repeated five times--in one minute--that the model was an import. Then imagine if that same advertisement hardly mentioned who was selling it. What car maker, with its headlights on straight, would run such an ad? Toyota? Nope. Nissan? No way. Volkswagen? Not even close. How about--Chevrolet? Early next month, television viewers living on the West Coast will see ads for a new line of cars called Geo to be sold by Chevrolet.

It has been almost a year since Steven Spielberg stood at the podium at the 1987 Academy Awards show and said it was time for film makers to rethink their priorities and reacquaint themselves with the value of words. After a decade of special-effects addiction, Spielberg seemed to be swearing off the stuff and offering to lead other traveling-matte, rear-projection and animatronics junkies back to the land of plot, story and character.

Suppose you saw a car commercial that repeated five times--in one minute--that the model was an import. Then imagine if that same advertisement hardly mentioned who was selling it. What car maker, with its headlights on straight, would run such an ad? Toyota? Nope. Nissan? No way. Volkswagen? Not even close. How about--Chevrolet? Early next month, television viewers living on the West Coast will see ads for a new line of cars called Geo to be sold by Chevrolet.

Ten Reasons for a Long TV and Movie Writers Strike: --Nothing is nobler than the struggle of the overpaid to be more overpaid. --It's refreshing to see a labor dispute where bread-and-butter issues are replaced by croissant-and-caviar issues. --The money for the poorest TV writer's salary will be freed to feed the entire nation of Ethiopia. --If it goes on long enough, bean-field workers will go out in sympathy for Harlan Ellison. --The average American may turn from watching TV six hours a day to reading, eventually replacing the networks with something new: literacy!