Bolondokháza 3.0 - Szaladgálj a folyosókon, senkit sem zavar.
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Bolondokháza 3 Interjú

Az interjúért köszönet Anitának. És a csirkés elemzésed egyáltalán nem szar, nem ezt mondtam. De bocs. A Type O egyáltalán nem illik a zenei világomba, de lehet, hogy csak azért, mert eddig még nem hallottam tőlük semmit. De nem hülye ez a Peter gyerek. Jó a szövege.

August, 1995

We met with Peter Steele in the hectic days just prior to Type O Negative's 10-week stint on the road with Queensryche. When he walked though the door, we couldn't help but hold out breath. At 6'6" and 220 pounds, Steele commands a room like a comic book hero come to life. His long, jet black hair streams down his broad back as his eyes - the unreal green of a living forest - survey the studio where we are setting up the photo shoot for this month's cover.
In our first and sunsequent conversations, the nature of his sexuality becomes defined by three recurring images - fire, wine and blood. Fire is the lust, wine is the communion, and blood the danger - and ultimatly the fun - in the ceremonies of his desires. He tells me about his fantasies: satisfying the lusty cravings of a maiden clad in rubber lingerie and spike heels; his favorite, making love - surrounded by a ring of flames - to a woman so hot her passions alone could set the bed on fire and consume them both; and of course the one about...

playgirl: If I were to write down your sexual fantasy, do you see a story? Does it have a plot - a beginning, a middle and an end?
PETER: I like the woods. I love autumn. I would imagine that this fantasy would take place in that environment, perhaps under the light of a full moon; a nice big fire.....I imagine we're by a pond, surrounded by the elements. I suppose that she would be having my way with her.
playgirl: What does she look like?
PETER: Tall. I don't want to have bend down too much. I've got back problems.
playgirl: Is that from your days with the Parks Service?
PETER: (laughs) No that's from incomplete evolution I would imagine. From what I understand, man is not quite ready to stand upright; which is why we have back problems. We're not really meant to walk on two legs. There are times we should be walking around on all fours.... But maybe we should be getting back to the bedroom scene.
playgirl: Or the forest scene...OK, she's tall...
PETER: Her hair color is inconsequential. I do prefer light eyes.
playgirl: So you're in the forest minding your own business, when....
PETER: Here she comes like Little Red Riding Hood down the path, and I guess I'm the Big Bad Wolf? ....This is hard.
playgirl: What else she she wearing?
PETER: I like latex. I like leather. I like fur. I like sensuality...things that have a very nice feel to them. Regular clothing is fine, too, of course. I wouldn't expect her to be wearing a latex outfit in the woods.
playgirl: This is your fantasy.
PETER: True, but I'm so rooted in reality that I have a difficult time fantasizing because I put so many mental limitations on things. It has to be within reason for me to get excited about it.
playgirl: If it isn't realistic, do you start to laugh?
PETER: If it isn't within reason, the fantasy ceases at that moment. It has to be attainable.
playgirl: OK, you're in the woods, the woman is coming toward you. She's tall, and she's pale?
PETER: I would say she's pale.
playgirl: She has light eyes, and for the sake of arguement, we'll say she has black hair...
PETER: And very full lips.
playgirl: What does she say to you?
PETER: "Get the hell out of my backyard?" I'm only kidding. Maybe she doesn't say anything. She just sits down right next to me. Maybe, by some chance, I have a bottle of wine with me, the fire's already built, the flames are reflecting off the pond, and without saying a word, I give her some of the wine from my glass - or my mouth.
playgirl: Then what happens?
PETER: Touching... maybe she puts her hand in mine.
playgirl: What part of her do you want to touch the most?
PETER: Her face, very gently. So I can fully absorb her contours. I want every sense to be excited. I want to smell her. I want to touch her. I want to see her. I want to hear her voice and I want to taste her. I want every sense to be capacitated.
playgirl: The fire is burning... you're sitting down... touching her face.
PETER: She's touching my face now. There would be a lot of touching. Like I said earlier, I would pass wine from my mouth to hers.
playgirl: Does that have anything to do with all the blood in your lyrics? Blood is very sexual...
PETER: Blood is sexual. Blood is violent. Blood means something extreme to everyone.
playgirl: It's life, isn't it?
PETER: And it's death. It can mean pretty much whatever you want it to mean. It's the ultimate symbol....But as far as the wine goes, it's a very sensual drink. It's sensual to give somebody wine from my mouth... as long as I've brushed my teeth within the last couple of hours. (laughs)
playgirl: What is feminine to you?
PETER: High heels, skirts, not a lot of makeup, but some. It doesn't really matter if she wears makeup or not. It doesn't change her psyche. It just appeals to me. I like long hair. It doesn't always have to be long, but that's what I prefer. There are some women who know how to smoke and some women who don't know how to smoke....
playgirl: Do you smoke?
PETER: No. I think that smoking is an extremely feminine thing. When I see men smoke, it's very effeminate to me. It's like a man walking around with a dildo in his mouth. It's the same thing.
playgirl: What about kissing women who smoke?
PETER: Sexually speaking, I like to watch women smoke. It's very sensual. If I'm going to kiss a woman who smokes, it's probably because I'm attracted to her, first off, and the act of smoking just augments that. So even though I don't like the taste, I can overcome it.
playgirl: So, when I go back to my office to write your "as told to Playgirl" fantasy, I'm going to have to have this high-heeled babe in the middle of the forest smoking a cigarette.
PETER: That's pretty much it.
playgirl: So, one more time, tell our readers what your ultimate sexual fantasy would be.
PETER: An old mansion in the dead of winter, in front of a huge fireplace, on a bearskin rug, surrounded by a circle of black candles... just having foreplay for hours. I would be working my way along her body from top to bottom - extremely slowly - over the course of days maybe... until she passes out.
playgirl: From pleasure or exhaustion?
PETER: Pleasure... or maybe lack of food. (laughs)