In his memoir ''Permanent Midnight,'' Jerry Stahl regaled readers with harrowing stories of his stint as a heroin-addicted TV writer. In ''Plainclothes Naked'' (on sale Nov. 6), Stahl, who's back on the small screen as a writer for the hit CBS series ''C.S.I,'' makes it clear that fiction can be much weirder than fact. The plot centers on a rogue cop's struggles to keep a photograph of George W. Bush's freakily decorated private parts out of the headlines and away from two inept but murderous drug addicts. EW.com talked to Stahl about the President's potential payback, writing crime-kink for ''C.S.I.'''s Nov. 15 episode, and why Oprah will NEVER invite him to her book club.
The Commander in Chief's genitals play a key role in your book. Considering how popular he is right now, is this a case of really great timing for you as a writer, or really bad luck?
I'm not sure George can actually read books. I imagine there's probably a presidential reader who does it for him. On the other hand, I imagine he'd be happy that somebody's saying he actually has balls. There are plenty of doubters. So I'm here to say, not only does he have them, but rumor has it they're tattooed. There's also a gay character in the novel who's obsessed with Dick Cheney, because the old Cold Warrior's so soft and vicious, like some kind of ruthless Pillsbury Doughboy.
At the end of the book, the rogue cop, Manny Rubert, suggests he might run for Congress. Do you think this codeine-popping ex-junkie has what it takes?
Why not? Manny probably won't attain the illustrious heights of, say, Rep. Gary Condit, but my guess is he knows enough about manipulation, duplicity and street-smarts to handle himself respectably. Since he doesn't really care about money that much, his constituents could probably be guaranteed to get their potholes filled. However, all that's in the sequel.
At one point you said you had five unpublished books hiding somewhere. Can we expect to see those anytime soon?
Considering what gets published these days, I'd say I'm extremely lucky to be in print at all. My writing has never been embraced by what the late, great Terry Southern used to call the ''Quality Lit Crowd.'' None of my books has ever been reviewed in the New York Times, and my last novel, ''Perv, A Love Story,'' was not even reviewed in the Los Angeles Times after it showed up on their best-seller list. The people who dig my books -- the wretches -- do so without a pat on the ass from mainstream media. Which is extremely, if perversely, flattering. Osama and Britney Spears will be married in Vegas before Oprah lets me in her book club.
Recently you did a cameo for ''Zoolander,'' and you also played a doctor in the movie version of ''Permanent Midnight.'' Any thought of changing careers?
Acting is absolutely the best job in captivity. Not only do you work about three minutes a day, but the food is amazing and you get to hang out with all kinds of interesting freakazoids. It's basically like being paid to hang out and stuff your face. There are worse ways to make a living -- and believe me, I've done most of them. For a guy who was working in McDonalds at the ripe age of 38, acting is quite a thrill.
You've been brutally honest about how you feel about the television industry, and yet you're in demand. How does that work?
Actually, I never dissed the TV industry that much. I basically dissed myself for winding up working there. Anybody who works in television and then complains about their creativity being thwarted should be taken out and dropkicked. That's like signing on as elephant trainer and whining cause you don't get to work with poodles. It is what it is.
You're listed as a consultant/writer to ''C.S.I.'' Given some of the creative deaths and mutilations in ''Plainclothes,'' are you the go-to guy for funky ways to die on the show?
I take no credit for any of the genius material which shows up on ''C.S.I.'' -- except for what you see in my own episodes -- and even then, they give me plenty of help. William Petersen [the series' star] and I actually met in the sauna at the Hollywood Y. We used to sit there and shoot the shit about books. Apparently he'd read some of mine, and for some ungodly reason thought I'd be the right guy to kick down a few scripts for his show. So that's how that happened. To this day I barely recognize him with his clothes on.
What can we expect from future episodes?
My next episode is November 15. It's the S&M episode, called ''Slaves of Las Vegas.'' Just walking on the set and seeing that somebody'd actually written ''I'm a dirty little stink-boy!'' on a blackboard one hundred times made it all worthwhile. So far I've written about a female cannibal and a dominatrix. What's not to love?
No matter what you do, it seems the label ''ex-junkie'' precedes your name. Is that a difficult cross to bear?
Having no legs, no bowel control, and no internet access is a cross to bear. Being called an ex-junkie is nothing. I've been called a lot worse, believe me.
You're also signed up for ''Prison Fish,'' a jailhouse memoir about a businessman who lands in jail and uses his skills as a corporate player to survive. What is it like adapting someone else's real life story?
For my money, Phil Kaufman (''The Right Stuff'') is one of the three or four greatest directors alive, and when I got the call about doing Jimmy Lerner's book, I didn't have to think about it. I was brought in to write a script because Phil had read my prose, which is hugely gratifying when you consider that this is the man who adapted Milan Kundera, Tom Wolfe, and the Marquis de Sade, not to mention everybody's fave sexaholics for ''Henry and June.'' Of course, having seen my own life brought to the screen and having witnessed up close and nine feet high what can happen in that process, I am hugely respectful of the man whose experience I'm trying to transform into a movie. You literally have someone's life in your hands, and your primary obligation is to honor that in every moment you write.
