Striking the Match |
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| Written by Agnes Cadieux |
| Friday, 09 July 2010 00:00 |
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Oh, sacred Fire, you are the bearer of warmth and light. You are the means by which we can cook food, heat water, and release energy. But sometimes, you pique our interest in ways we did not anticipate. Sometimes, we take our fascination of you beyond roasting marshmallows and drying socks, and find ourselves wrapped up in your dangerous embrace. And we realize that we cannot get enough.  During my travels I sometimes bump into the most interesting people. On one such stopover some years ago, a friend of mine quietly admitted that he had an unquenchable desire to burn things. Despite the care he had taken to keep his hobby a secret, I had gotten the feeling he enjoyed watching things go up in flames. Besides, nobody who doesn't smoke carries around that many lighters - and I'm not talking the 99¢ gas station cheapies, either. Within their circle they are known as firebugs, pyros, and torches, but those of us on the other side of the fire know them as arsonists. For reasons ranging from lazy entertainment to vengeful malice, these men and women take flint in one hand, combustibles in the other, and watch from afar just how far their fire will spread. Unfortunately, a hobby like this requires a certain level of anonymity, but, after a quick search and a lengthy wait, I was able to get in touch with "Bob" to see what it was about fire that seemed to brighten his day.(Cult)ure: When did your fascination with fire begin? Bob: As long as I can remember. It happened when I accidentally burned a hay field down when I was in grade eight, actually, and, well, it sort of took off from there. (Cult)ure: What was it that drew you to it? Bob: The violence of it -- and the illusion of control. Well, trying to control something that can't be controlled. When I lost control in that hay field, though, it was exhilarating. (Cult)ure: What do you recall your first experience with fire to be? Bob: I was five and my dad was working on a car and it caught fire while he was inside it. He survived, but I will never forget it. (Cult)ure: What do you remember feeling at that time? Bob: I don't remember feeling, but I remember the sound. Have you ever heard metal burning? It was like that. Otherwise, there were some mundane things, like campfires, and such. (Cult)ure: What is the most amazing thing you've seen when you play with fire?  Bob: Everything about is it unusual. I can't really explain one particular thing. It's different every time, and yet it's the same. The elements of it are the same, but the intensity of it still strikes me. (Cult)ure: What is your weapon of choice? Bob: I don't really have one. Unpredictability is the best choice in this game. We did at one point play ‘dodge ball' with fireworks, but I can tell you the most fun I've ever had was using those emergency road flares. (Cult)ure: Have you ever gotten caught? Bob: No. Just for the record, though, I'm not criminally inclined -- at least not anymore. (Cult)ure: Have you ever gotten into a situation where you knew you had taken it too far? Bob: In the moment or afterwards? (Cult)ure: How about both. Bob: Never while I'm in the moment. The illusion of control was always there. Afterwards, when I look back, I realize the entire thing was never really in my control. (Cult)ure: Do you have any regrets? Bob: I try not to. Obviously there are things I wish I hadn't done, but I don't think I'd go as far as calling them regrets. (Cult)ure: And finally, after doing all the things you've done, do you condemn or condone fire-starting? Bob: Condemn. No matter what. Contrary to popular belief, Bob doesn't smell like smoke, nor was he rude, loud, or socially prominent in any way when we lived in the same city. He leads a normal life in a normal town and has normal friends. But beneath his quirky sense of humour and unusual talent for dinosaur impersonations, there lies a desire to court with the sacred, the fearsome, and the ever-inspiring force: Fire.
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