American Anarchist Page #3

---

of the cookbook.

My hunch is that

it was a publicity stunt.

Probably designed

by Lyle himself.

I was just way out of my depth.

I think I was feeling

uncomfortable with

some of the questions

that I was being asked.

Whether it was

a correct thing to do,

to put this kind

of information

into the hands of people

who might hurt

themselves or others?

I did not try

every recipe in the book.

I have never made a bomb.

I've never made

LSD in my kitchen.

I didn't try any of

the explosives recipes or...

I didn't try any of those.

The portion of the book that was

increasingly difficult to justify

was the part on explosives

and bomb-making.

Increasingly I was

feeling that

that wasn't me.

And what

did you do about that?

Um...

Well, um...

I tried to ignore the fact...

I mean, basically,

I just put it aside.

I didn't think about it.

I think it's quite hard

to contradict something

that has gone out into print

with my name on it,

and there's 100,000, 200,000,

a million copies, I don't know.

It's hard to come out and say,

"I don't agree with this."

And then you think,

"Well, why did you

write it in the first place?"

You know,

"Why didn't you think about it?"

So I'm wrestling with that

during this time.

But you did speak

about it in court in 1973?

Three or four, yeah. Yeah.

In a Denver courtroom,

Lyle Stuart and I were being

sued for copyright violation.

The book they said that the

copyright had been violated on

was "150 Questions

For a Guerrilla."

They wanted to show that I had

basically plagiarized this book.

And your role

in the trial was to...

Oh, I was on the witness stand

for most of the day.

The plaintiff's lawyer

would ask a question,

I would answer the question,

and then I would say,

"and furthermore,

da-da, da-da, da-da."

He asked me about

Bangalore torpedoes.

A kind of explosive device.

So I gave him

chapter and verse.

I came across as credible.

There had been a huge change

from the New York City

Bill Powell,

who went to promote the book,

and the individual

who showed up in Denver.

The judge ruled from the bench

and threw

the plaintiff's case out.

And what was your

reaction to the outcome of the case?

Oh, I was delighted.

I was delighted, yeah.

So you don't recall

during that period thinking,

"Why am I defending this book

that I don't even agree with?"

No, no, it...

I wasn't defending

the book or the content.

The focus was

on winning the case.

I thought the plaintiff

in this case

was out to make a quick buck

at my expense.

There needed to be a...

you know, a strong defense.

During the '70s,

you could talk about

what you did

to distance yourself

from the book.

Did you do anything to distance

yourself from the book?

Not publicly.

I mean, I didn't put out any

public statements in the '70s.

I became a father.

That was huge.

I went through confirmation

as an Anglican.

So there were a number of things

that were going on for me,

emotionally, spiritually,

but I didn't do anything

during that time

to publicly distance myself.

Primarily because the book

had sort of dropped off.

Sales were way down.

There was no media attention.

And I thought

it was just going to go

and die a quiet death

on its own.

I didn't spend much time thinking

about "The Anarchist Cookbook"

to be really

frank with you, yeah.

I had decided that

I wanted to be a teacher.

And particularly I wanted

to work with

kids with

emotional learning needs.

Hyperactivity,

attention deficit disorder.

I can recall the first day.

I went into the classroom...

It was a treatment center

for children

who had been taken away

from their families for abuse,

children that were neglected.

The kids had basically

been abandoned.

So, I had 12...

11-year-old boys

who had all sorts of issues.

In some respects,

I think I saw some of myself

in these kids.

I wanted to be there for them.

I was born in the United States.

I was born on Long Island.

My dad worked

for the United Nations,

the spokesman

for the Secretary General.

And when I was about two,

he was transferred to Britain,

which is why I sound

the way that I do.

Soon after

we arrived in England,

my dad put my name

on the waiting list

for one of

the leading boys schools.

And he really

had a dream, I think,

of me going to Cambridge.

We would go

to Cambridge on holidays

and he would point

to King's College chapel.

And he would say, "This is where

I want you to go to University."

Kind of a dream for me,

which, needless to say,

I didn't fulfill.

And then, when I was about

11 or 12,

my dad was transferred

back to New York.

It would be fair to say that I was

a royal headache to my parents.

I didn't see

the relevance of school.

I had run-ins with the law,

and at that point,

Mom and Dad said

they were going to send me

to boarding school.

Which, was okay

for the first year.

Second year was difficult.

I didn't make it

through the year.

I was expelled.

Had to do with

vodka and marijuana,

and gently pushing

a teacher's car into a...

a ravine would be

an exaggeration.

It was a sort of incline.

And the car rolled

gracefully into a tree.

I decided at that point

that I would make my exit

towards New York City.

I went to work.

The impetus

for writing the book

was a combination of

a number of different things.

There was some genuine anger.

I think I did want to publish.

I wanted to be a writer

and I wanted to publish.

I told my father

after the book was published.

Before it came out,

but after I had

signed the contract.

It was Easter Sunday.

I went out to White Plains

to have Sunday lunch.

My dad and I

at that point in time

were sort of estranged.

It was just easier when I wasn't

fulfilling his aspirations

to maintain

a distance from him.

Initially he was quite excited

by the idea that

I'd published a book.

I think his

excitement diminished

when he learned about

what the content was.

Having said that,

he was very clear

that he respected my right

to express it.

He just didn't have

to agree with it himself.

I hope they like onions.

I wonder.

I mean, it's a bit of

a disaster if they don't.

We both were working

at a school

for emotionally disturbed

and learning disabled children.

Ochan was in the elementary

school, in second grade

as a student teacher,

I was teaching

in the high school.

In Bill's mother's attic,

there used to be a big box

of newspaper

clippings, and cuttings,

and articles about Bill.

I don't think I even had a copy of

the book at that point in time.

I think your mother did.

Yeah, my mother still does

have a copy of it.

-Um...

-That's kind of funny.

Yes. Yes, it is.

I think I was able to

rationalize it as a young adult,

saying, "Okay, I can

understand this

as part of someone's past."

Adolescent past.

I know Bill must have been

a very angry person

as he was growing up.

But I didn't see that anger

that is so obviously

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes