For Helnwein
A story by Stephen King. An American schoolboy, twelve or thirteen years old, fascinated, in his small-town monotony, by documents on the German concentration camps - the way his classmates are by Superman. The formula for his fascination: THEY JUST DID THOSE THINGS.
At his daily bus stop, he recognizes a face he has seen in photographs, under a black cap with death's insignia and above a black SS uniform. The boy blackmails the unidentified murderer into talking: HOW DID YOU DO THOSE THINGS. The murderer talks in order to save his life. Curiosity becomes the urge for real experience: the two of them found Murder, Inc. and rid the small town of dogs, tramps and other "unworthy life"...
How can a friendly person like Helnwein stand making his - excellent - painting into a mirror of the terrors of this century? Or is it that he can't stand not doing it?Does his mirror just reflect the attitude of the century: TERROR WITHOUT END IS BETTER THAN ENDING IN TERROR, which comes form the over-evaluation of death, a consequence of tabooing it with statistics.
Perseus guillotines the Gorgon in the mirror, and when the head falls, it is his own. How many heads does a person/man have in our age of mirrors?
(translated from german original)