“The Apple Doesn’t Fall Far from the Tree” — Sean Stone in the Limelight
SEAN STONE on Acting | Filmmaking | Poetry | New World Order | Spirituality | Eastern Philosophy, &c.
By Chris Douglas, Nov 26, 2020
The above video (link here) represents the interview I had with Sean Stone, earlier on this November 18th, in the year twenty and two thousand.
I will begin by confessing I am an encyclopedist and the founder of AUTHORPÆDIA® — the world’s only encyclopedia dedicated to authors. I think in terms of books, authors, and biographies. And so, I do literary archeology (metaphorically speaking) only recently becoming the host for AUTHORPÆDIA LIVE, my production show on AuthorTV®, a platform created to complement our encyclopedia for the purpose of promoting authors and their books.
Not knowing Sean at the time of my research, I initially thought of interviewing Sean’s father — the great Oscar-winning director, Oliver Stone — and since I am a veteran theorist and a pedant “thinker,” the first thing I did in my preliminary to planning the interviewing material was to watch few other interviews on YouTube, hosted by people way much better and much more charming than I am. (Conceited me…).
I wanted to feel the pulse, the spirit of Oliver Stone behind the microphone, and to getting as much information about the furnishings of his character before I could attempt to contact him, to see which questions usually pleases or irritates him in case the discussion touches upon a controversial subject; and so, I was interested to see how well-versed hosts master their questions; how they would tickle Mr. Stone’s narcissism, speculating upon his ego.
But, to my surprise, the man who created Scarface, JFK, and Snowden, and who co-wrote, The Untold History of the United States — to mention only few of his bijous — had appeared to be extremely humble. I remember my father telling me when I was very young that the greatest people in history were also very modest. Only the nuveau rich make an exception. The parvenues.
I watched for hours… interview after interview… falling in love with Oliver Stone’s character.
One more video and I’ll reach out to him, I told myself, notepad in hand, and searched for another video, when I noticed Sean’s name. Wow! Like father like son! a voice inside my head said loud enough that it came out of my mouth. My cat, who was on top on me, also watching Sean with owl ayes began to meow, which is the way of cats expressing curiosity.
Before long, I read about Sean Stone, somewhere, that he lived in an apartment with his cat, and I instantly remembered Mark Twain’s words, “When a man loves cats, I am his friend and comrade, without further introduction.”
So, I had to tell Sean he had a new friend. But first, I ought to invite him for what is now a memorable interview. Not in quality of sound and production, (technical skips happen especially when you are a practitioner of Murphy’s law) but in spirit and content. In my email to Sean I mentioned his book, New World Order, which underlined my invitation. And of course, I rushed and bought it on Amazon.com, without second thought.
Half hour later my heart skipped few beats as I read his acceptance to my show: “That would be incredible, he wrote. I actually have two more recent books Desiderata a cosmic fairy tale and The Ephemeral Shades of Time, a poetry book… Shoot me some available dates and times and we can coordinate…”
That’s it? I thought Hollywood stars were never reachable. Spoke to a friend, a talented old chap, screenwriter from LA, who told me not to even THINK of reaching out to Hollywood actors, or directors. I mean, I can try, he said, but they almost never respond. And if you want to talk to their agents most of them have their heads so far up their asses that when they speak they sound like infatuated colon polips; and most of their managers are arrogant distant bastards, wallowing in parasistic wealth. (Must say, “most of” so that I won’t get sued). As for the actors, they think they are gods, he said to me. Too rich and spoiled with fame.
That was my friend’s response when I had attempted to send out my screenplay, Dire Straits, a quasi-Scarface type of action born of a true story. I had adapted it from the novel written by retired Police Captain Marshall Frank who is one of the world’s best crime story writers, today.
Yes, but this story is coming right out of police files, I told him. This “picture,” if made, will make hundreds of millions of dollars, and I haven’t met one human being who refused money.
“IF MADE,” he shouted. IF is the question here. Chris, there are millions of screenplays floating around, each writer thinking their story is the best story that was ever written. All have in their pitch “big bucks offers”. Why do you think they’ll pick up yours? Nowadays actors, producers, filmmakers, write their own stories. So, buddy… my advice… forget it with them snobbish folks and go make your own movie!
He was right. In my interview Sean said, “it is so sad to see so much talent wasted. We put ten percent of effort in our work, and ninety percent looking for financing. It’s ridiculous…. I wish everyone had the fair chance to reach their dreams. So much unknown talent is wasted out there. You gotta do your own film…” or something to that effect, he said.
But neither filmmaking nor acting made the main theme of my interview with Sean. His writing. His books. His poetry did, which is a symphonic concert of celestial blaze, dressed in whispers, love, and velvet hugs, all bathed in tears and euphoric lukewarm expectations, which explain the enigma of Divinity — all one within one soul.
I played his audiobook, Desiderata, against a musical backdrop, many times.
During the interview I asked Sean, (paraphrasing): “how come a man like you, young, super successful and glorious in all, e.g., acting, filmmaking, television, show hosting, writing—not to mention handsome and healthy—can suffer? Because poetry is born of suffering, and is boundless. You are a man of great success. When do you have time to suffer?”
His kindhearted smile tracing a most serene face spoke a thousand words.
I remained silent, contemplating. Few seconds seemd like years. I thought only gods can be boundless in their creation. Do gods suffer too, I was questioning myself? A voice in me whispered — YES. Greek and Roman gods had suffered. Even the “biblical YHVH” — the anthropomorphic deity who mesmerizes believers with its verses and stories; He was shown to suffer when writing his verses…. And since god is in us, it follows…
But, I am an agnostic, although spiritual. I think the Universe is an intelligent entity because it has character, conscience, and symmetry. Call it God if you want, or just call it “Universe” like Spinoza did, but since we are part of It, and It is in us, it follows that the particle residing in us, making us like “them,” is capable of emotions. Hence—suffering.
(Thinking)
There’s a continuous torment before our eyes, which produces pain.
Sean said, “all we must do is open our soul to see. Everyone is a poet, everyone has talent. We are all ONE.”
It makes you think. With watery eyes we watch our dear ones leaving us; we see our pets and flowers dying; we watch our rivers infested and slowly ebbing; forests cut without compassion; poverty and famine is growing in a world when a single man makes three thousand dollars every second while sleeping (it’s called passive income); we witness destruction, genocide, diseases; and we fear the over five thousand genetical maladies and thousands of viruses waiting to attack a child in his cradle and other thousands following him all life; we stare at our children who are predestined to ongoing wars to fight for the rich; babies dying of inanition with flies buzzing around their mouths, and vultures awaiting to pick the skin stuck off their bones.
It takes poetry to observe that the bird who sang so wonderful this morning on our porch tomorrow will not come back; the howling of a wolf will not be heard; our lover might say goodbye to us forever; and that the Sun will die one day, and us, poor mortals, shall be no more. It takes a poet to declare eternal love to a ladybug, who rests on his or her finger only to leave a second later to its unknown destiny.
Poetry is music to the deaf, and color to the blind, for one cannot hear nor see without it. There is neither beauty, nor gentleness, in a world without poetry.
A French surgeon and biologist who was awarded Nobel Prize in medicine, a man by the name of Dr. Alexis Carrel, in his book Man, the Unknown, written in 1932 in New York, (hard to find, by the way) had written that you can look into the human brain and body under the most powerful microscope in the world, and there is one thing you will not find: Conscience.
In the course of our interview I said to Sean:
“If people listen to a piece just like this [Desiderata]… like the one we’ve played right now—and you cannot get over it […] once you get off that trance — because you are in trance when you write poetry…even your prose has poetry in it….
For a moment I lost my track of mind. But I continued,
“I think I found what Carrel or other doctors couldn’t find. I think I found your conscience. I don’t want to say this to be cute nor funny, but I think I’ve known you for thousands of years.”
“I’m very flattered, Sean said… It’s always nice to have someone who recognizes your work. You’re talking about success? Success is being able to make something. To be able to create something, put your energy in it; but it takes a team…it takes people to also recognize what you have to offer, and I feel that very much…that many artists, most artists in this planet, are misunderstood and perhaps not embraced.
I think this is my great grief that I carry in my heart, and I would love to see a transformation on this planet where we can shift our energy and our focus away from hating and misunderstanding to loving and understanding, and if we use Art as a bridge, I know that .. Schiller talked about it, that essentially the future of relationships between countries and politics and diplomats is the artist and the poet. The poet is the one that understands and hears and listens at a deeper level, and shows you where we are connected, and shows you where there’s misunderstanding, and clarifies….”
“That is what we need to foster on this planet and that’s really what drives me…, as I pose; in my heart what drives me is that there’s such a lack of emotion when it comes to our artistic feeling that everyone is an artist, everyone is a creator, but they are not tapping into it…, they’re not being allowed to tap into it…, they are not given the tools to tap into it; they are not in a society that fosters art; it is so much of a society that’s in fear all the time; and this is like the great enemy I think you know that everyone faces, right?… […] right now we are in a world that’s full of fear, — this is what this is — where you either break or you transcend. Right?”
“We all have that fear: you either think you are a mortal being and you are a material being and you fear of sickness and death and decay and attack — or whatever may be… stops you and blocks you, or you transcend it and you realize, I am this eminent divine being; as you said we’ve known each other for ten thousand years… probably… who knows…. What is years in the cosmos? You don’t count the revolution of the Sun when you’re travelling around the galaxy… So, I know I’ve been around there… I know it. That’s where some of my poetry and some of my writing comes from; those memories and those visions….”
“But the point is… everyone should have that privilege to remember who they are. What they are doing is an excavation of Self… and that’s what the artist’s path is — the alchemy of the character.”
“Basically, you go through writing something and you delve into the dark, and you bring it to the light, and you try to transform yourself in the process, so maybe to explain, expand on what I said earlier what inspires me too, is when I feel something going on the Zeitgeist, of within myself as a reflection of the Zeitgeist, because there is no outside world without me in it… right? Everything I’m experiencing outside is a reflection of me… I have to go into that, I gotta go and feel, and I have to judge it up, you know, go into the garbage and okay, clean it out… what’s still useful here, what can be refined and used and what can be put back into the earth as fertilizer, right?”(Chuckles) “That’s the journey… and it is a very profound and powerful experience.”
“I wish everyone had the opportunity to do more artistic work in their life. You know, it doesn’t matter if it’s painting… you name it… playing, you know, singing a song, writing a poem, writing a story, writing a book… whatever…”
“We need art in this world because this is what gives us the courage to survive in the face of so much injustice and unfairness and pain and suffering… Life is suffering, as Buddha told us.”
“Yes, life is suffering, Sean said with inflections in his voice, so we need ART to at least make it — bearable.”
The ending remark of Sean Stone reminds me of one of my closest friends by the name of Exantus, an old timer who says he lived before history was born, a poet who traveled among galaxies telling stories of alter-dimensions and endless love — just like Sean does — who said that nowhere in the universe where he had been he felt dolor, pain, love, and passion the way he did when he lived on earth, bragging how other beings in those worlds keep legends from which their children learn — legends that talk about a jewel planet called Gaia, where its inhabitants mastered the art of suffering and the art of love, and they call it — Poetry.