David Fincher: I heard about a German man who put an ad on an internet site saying he wanted to devour somebody. Someone actually answered the ad.
Ursula K. Le Guin: That’s not quite enough for me, but I know exactly what he means, and it is what I fall back on.
Fincher: Let’s see where it goes.
Le Guin: It never goes away.
Fincher: No one was ever injured.
Le Guin: Because they know they haven’t got time.
Fincher: I gave up worrying about that years ago.
Le Guin: I had this physicist and he was in a prison camp somewhere.
Fincher: The thing got cloud-seeded by way of one magazine story.
Le Guin: This is what a lot of mystical disciplines are after—simply seeing, really seeing, really being aware. That’s what makes it generic.
Fincher: I don’t make Big Macs.
Le Guin: Go away, just let me write.
Fincher: I don’t like obsequiousness.
Le Guin: Which is cool. I just got drunk on it.
Fincher: That’s a story I was told and it has probably been hyperbolized, by me. It was out of context.
Le Guin: The point is that, whoever opened them, the doors were being opened. You had to get to know the owner of the store.
Fincher: Everybody dies. They’re dark and sinister but wrapped in this perfectly humane, affable package.
Le Guin: I’m just not a good candidate for conversion.
Fincher: I need you to stop blinking.