February 4, 1998:
a symbolic victory for
all who struggle against
evil and oppression.
The Pied Sniper:
Noel Godin's Flavorful Terrorism
by D. Trull
Enigma Editor
dtrull@parascope.com
On February 4, 1998, Belgian anarchist Noel Godin cemented forever his place as a legend in the worldwide struggle against evil and oppression. Godin masterminded the flawlessly executed Bill Gates pie ambush in Brussels, with at least four cream pies pummeling the Microsoft chairman directly in the face as he entered a government building to attend a formal reception with Flemish dignitaries. The sight of the world's richest man smothered in whipped goo, looking just like one of those fat, haughty high-society ladies caught in the crossfire of the Three Stooges, was many a subversive's dream vision brought deliciously to life.
Although this was the first of his pastry onslaughts ever to achieve mass notoriety in the United States, Godin has been throwing pies at the rich and pompous for nearly thirty years in Europe, where he is renowned as "L'Entarteur" ("he who pies"). Godin happily labels himself a terrorist -- a "comical terrorist" -- and he carries with him the requisite radical ideology and set of unconditional demands: "Everything is awful around us, so let's try to have fun," he says.
A man of many talents, Godin spends his time as a writer, a cinema historian and an actor when not involved with conspiracies of the cream. He attended law school but dropped out during Europe's widespread student protests of 1968. This turbulent era sent Godin down a lifelong path of embracing anarchism and iconoclasm. It was through an unlikely circumstance that he came upon pie-throwing as a means of political expression.
Godin began writing an uproarious news column for a Belgian film magazine in 1969, which he filled with completely false "interviews" with celebrities and reviews of films that did not exist. Oddly, this completely mainstream and straight-laced periodical was published by the Belgian Catholic League, which had no clue that Godin's satirical excesses were anything but the truth. "I got away with it purely because I had a credulous editor and the magazine was not distributed outside Belgium," Godin said.
In these fanciful news columns, Godin wrote that fictional director "Georges Le Gloupier" had thrown a pie at real-life director Robert Bresson, and that a friend of Bresson, author Marguerite Duras, had retaliated by attacking Le Gloupier in kind. Shortly thereafter, when Godin learned that Duras was really coming to Belgium, he seized the opportunity to transform his imaginary celebrity jousting into reality. Godin and his friends concocted a plan to pie Duras, who personified a literary trend that they referred to as "the 'empty' novel." In November 1969, she became the first victim of L'Entarteur.
Over the ensuing years, Godin and his self-styled "gang of bad hellions" have continued delivering just desserts to famous faces whose egos have been judged worthy of deflating. The primary target remains celebrities from European arts and entertainment circles, but the products of Godin's unique anarchist cookbook have also walloped television news journalists and political figures. Godin selects his prey with thoughtful and deliberate care, and not just any run-of-the-mill media doofus is worthy of making the cut.
"I flan people in the spirit of the abusive letters the Dadaists sent to worthless celebrities," Godin said. "The aim is always to denounce them in some way. I do not want to slide into facile sensationalism. Every victim has to be thoroughly justified."
Which brings us to Bill Gates. The software emperor has occupied a place of honor on Godin's wish list for some time, and L'Entarteur offered the following explanation when the Netly News asked why Gates deserved the humiliation of a sugary sortie:
"Because in a way he is the master of the world, and then because he's offering his intelligence, his sharpened imagination and his power to the governments and to the world as it is today -- that is to say gloomy, unjust and nauseating," Godin said. "He could have been a utopist, but he prefers being the lackey of the establishment. His power is effective and bigger than that of the leaders of the governments, who are only many-colored servants. So Bill Gates was at the top of our lists of victims. The attack against him is symbolic, it's against hierarchical power itself."
Adding to the conspiratorial intrigue of the Gates pie attack, an anonymous employee of Microsoft's Belgium office tipped off Godin's gang with details of Gates's itinerary for his Brussels visit. Insider betrayals like this have become common among workers who want to see their bosses get a pie in the face, even without Godin actively seeking assistance from moles.
Godin's creamy commando unit for the Gates operation totaled 30 individuals. The Microsoft informant notified them that Gates would be escorted by five armed bodyguards and four policemen, and though they were nervous, the Godin team felt their advantage in numbers would ensure success. In the tradition of all great puppetmasters, Godin himself did not participate in the actual pie-throwing, but rather watched the maneuver unfold from a cafe across the street. He feared the police or the press would recognize him, which could have foiled the whole mission.
As Gates entered the elegant Le Concert Noble for his meeting, Godin's squad let fly with a total of 25 pies. Godin reports that four pies hit the victim right in the kisser. Gates's body guards were too stunned to even draw their weapons. With his glasses opaque and half-cocked, and creamy white filling sputtering from his lips, the crustfallen CEO was whisked away to a private room by his disheveled entourage. He soon emerged spic and span, with a shaky smile failing to mask his obvious indignation.
Godin is exceedingly scrupulous and exacting about the art of pieing. Although Godin and his gang do not bake their ammunition themselves ("we are very lazy," he explains), they buy only top-quality pies made from fine ingredients, ensuring that the filling and crust are light enough that they could cause no injury on impact. Godin believes that a pie should never be thrown: for a hit to be done properly, one must get close enough to the target to press the pie directly into the face without flinging it through midair. In addition, Godin says that the first five seconds after a pie attack can lay bare the victim's true inner character, according to his or her reaction. "Accurately delivered, a cream pie is an uncannily precise barometer of human nature," he has noted.
For example, film director Jean-Luc Godard sportingly laughed it off after Godin creamed him, going so far as to defend the pieman from being banned for life from the Cannes Film Festival. On the other hand, Godin's arch nemesis, new age philosopher Bernard-Henri Levy, has responded to several pie assaults by hitting Godin in the face -- with his fists.
And what depths of Gates's personality did his reaction reveal? One news report stated that Gates stood paralyzed immediately after getting plastered, blank and emotionless, "as if bolted to the ground." Godin expressed disappointment at Gates's lack of any discernible human emotion with a face full of pie, musing that "He had a kind of promotional smile that became a kind of smile made of sand..."
It wasn't until he got nice and cleaned up that Gates came up with some attempt at witticism, in a quip possibly scripted by his handlers. "The worst part was that the pies were not very tasty," he said. (Ho, ho, ho... that's funny, Bill, because the worst part about Microsoft is that your software is not very good.)
Although Godin's political pie-throwing may seem like a particularly European brand of eccentricity, it's important to note that Noel Godin has a counterpart in the annals of the American counterculture. Aron Kay, a fun-loving Yippie activist, earned the title of "The Pieman" for lobbing pies at a stellar array of key figures from the Vietnam era and beyond. Among the many recipients of Kay's wrath: William F. Buckley, Daniel Moynihan, Phyliss Schlaffly, William Shatner, Anita Bryant, William Colby, Andy Warhol, and virtually every major player in the Watergate scandal except for Richard Nixon. The Pieman retired in 1992 after pieing Randall Terry of Operation Rescue. For some unfair reason, Kay has never achieved the level of mainstream recognition that Godin enjoys in his country.
With Gates now successfully crossed off, the remaining figures atop Godin's hit list include Bill Clinton, Tony Blair, Tom Cruise, John Travolta, and his all-time number one most-wanted pie recipient, Pope John Paul II. Godin considers the Pope a dangerous enemy of humanity because of his stand against contraception, and if tight security keeps Godin from ever planting a pie directly in the Pontiff's face, he hopes at least to fling cream-filled condoms at the Popemobile.
Cynics have accused Godin of being a self-aggrandizing publicity hound motivated by the sale of photographs his associates take of their creamed victims. But Godin insists he's only in it for fun, and for the satisfaction of taking "superstars" down a notch or two. He steadfastly refuses frequent offers of money to hurl pies at certain celebrities, since it would compromise his anarchist principles to become a mercenary.
The Bill Gates pie incident has indeed been a revelatory phenomenon, if not so much for exposing Gates as it has the nature of the news media. It has been disturbing to note just how much of the coverage has been pro-Gates, anti-Godin. Reports have disingenuously described how Gates rebounded with good humor after enduring an "unfortunate" mishap. Godin has been painted as an unwelcome and foolish nuisance. Time magazine saw fit to characterize his antics as antiquated and puerile, and chided him for not "getting with the times."
Has it really come to this? Has the American establishment so completely lost its sense of humor, that we can't see that hitting Bill Gates with a pie is not only harmless, but also funny as hell? Noel Godin, we at ParaScope salute you. Here's to hoping the sentiment of your noble slogan will ring throughout the ages:
"Let's pie! Let's pie! Nincompoop guys!"
QuickTime Movie of the Creamed Bill Gates from CNN Interactive
(Alas, this footage only shows the chaotic aftermath of the pie attack, and not the moment of impact, but it's still worth a look. A larger version is also available for true connoisseurs.)
Pie-Throwing Anarchist Noel Godin
(A web site created by an avid Godin admirer -- includes several informative articles and a few pictures.)
Netly News Network: "Let's Pie! Let's Pie! Nincompoop Guys!"
(An excellent exclusive interview with Godin by Hugues Henry.)
The Pieman web page
(The personal site run by Aron Kay, containing an autobiographical account of his colorful career. Warning: the tons of pictures take an extremely long time to download.)
Bill Gates Pie-in-the-Face Game
(Requires the Active X plug-in ThingViewer)
Other sources: The Observer Magazine; Newsweek, Februrary 19, 1998; CNET News; The L.A. Times; Reuters; Associated Press. Special thanks to Ruffin Prevost.
© Copyright 1998 ParaScope, Inc.
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