HEDIA PROJECTS: SON OF l·:A NA/DADA
1. Live TV covera ~ e. 2 cameras prefered '~1 opeaators. Occurs at various times throughout play. Options for camera persons to captur e intersting things no matter how we rehearse scenes.
2. Dream sequence: suggest techniques that are over~sed to get across idea of dreaming. "Death is a dreamless sleep". Song accompanies video. Taped in mountains w/ various cast members doing apparently normal things like you do when on zxzx vacation, like fishing , hiking , skinny dipping. Must be very bizarre and prefer lots of stupid comic stuff.
3. Tape of Little Girl coming do~m street of theatre. Appears to be live. Suddenly she vanishes as she gets to door of theatre. She is on another plane and can't seem to make contact on the earth plane. This could happen several times as she tries to get conscious. Finally she does and the live camera shows her walking into the space. (Also we can repeat this gimmick several ti es, i.e. the idea of the video surprising audience with tricks, so they never know what to expect.
4 . John Lennon rehearsing. Could be a variety of tapes showing him playing, trying to work thorueh a song . He also plays live. Use several monitors for this sequence. The search for meaning in life by finding cr eative outlets. Dut it's bull shit. Life doesn't exist. Therefore you can't be creative. We jult make op the word to get by without going nuts.
5 It would be great if we have time to locate some film clips or something of various gangster movies. Or still photos. To accompany Lauren Bacall scenen.
6 John Lennon Story. This is a false stor y about the life of J 0 hn Lennon. I will write scr ipt w/ Steve Hardy. Short but absur d.
7. Photos of video of scenes w/ LG walking down streets, searching through· trash.
8 . Shots of Tap D.ancinr, Duddha walking thoough trash.
9. Shots of Stiltwalker walking thr ough t r ash.
Shots of I,.J',.J 7.
The impoartant feature is t h~ t I want to encourage additional video/fil~/photos from people who are doing video f or show. This could be stuff already completed or could include ne~T or in-pro~ress projects. Also l hope f or ·ma ximum input f r om media people, because it's no t my field. And once we are open in April, I hope "'e can ontinue to add new thin p, s and take out ~That's not working. It will be an intense work period w/ very complex scheduling involved so we must be highly organized. 25 people are being scheduled, so we can't fuck off.
12. Oops. An abstr act scene needs taping in a studio. Actors going through movements which are choreographed. They a r e pantomiming. Meanwhile, live, they are oinp, through the same moveme nts eEcept they are using a •tretch material, tying it to various locations in the theatr e. Probably can use Access for this taping. I
JL Story apsect (Scene one).
Good evening. My nameis JohnLennon. I am dead.a I want to sh~re some things' I've learned about life after life. Iwant to do this because I'm such a good sport. I'm an ancestral idol already. I could change people's lives. I could change your life. ~elieve me.
Listen.
Since death is truly the ultimate purpose of your life, I have now made myself acquainted with this truest and best friend of mankind so that he has for me not only nothing terrifying anymore but much more that is tranq~iiizin~ • and co n_,.e. i ng •
>Ja tc h and 11 s ten. (?•ti med scene as JL speaks i t. Very !as t. )
If death is accepted by us already, we need not wait for it, be it near or far, with fear o~with contempt. Because we have accepted it, we know what .....- · ~ ...... it is. ,.e know that we are -creatures. And our end belongs to us. In this way the~ riddle of lifea and death is no riddle of thought or imagination. zixx It ls a matter of life. It is here and now. JL singsand plays1 "Our end belongs to us." ·- . Urchins join in asthey emter, singing the chorus "Our end belongs to us."
I ; ...
a I (Our End Belongs to Us/ adapted from Emily Dickins n) John Lennon. I died for beauty, but was scarce Adjusted in the tomb. When one who died for truth was lain In an adjoing foom.
He questioned softly why I failed? "For Beauty," I replied. "And I for Truth- the two are one; We brethren are," he said.
Like a meteor flaming brightly, Briefly flickering in the sky, Came a man knew all beauty Hidden from the cleverest eye. He met me there past spa•e and time He led me past ancestral memories And into a tunnel of brilliant light. The light spoke to me not in words But as though thorugh me: all is clear I learned our end bel ngs to us. 1/ ~~~_, '7' Our end be.i o gs to us V/f,17V Our end belongs to us. %/ / . ~--~~~~~--- ~ ~ (Repeat opening section)
And so, as kinsmen met a night, We talked between the rooms, Until the moss had reached our lips, And covered up our names.
Our end belongs to us. Our end belongs to us. Our end belongs to us. '/ , . ' ..'
sc ~n e two. Brisge from JL into Big Emma. ---;r;;; /f ~ As Urchins and s-ing end of song, televisions ~ on showing street. Group of urch coming down street. They come into theatre space lo~king for the i le
The Actor/Narrator speaks, as others freeze.
What is it 6ike to die? I have often asked myself this question. Have you? It is a question, after all, which all of humanity has been asking. The questionarouses the most powerful emotions from people. Doesn't it? Yet it is very difficukt to talk about death. You wa~t to know why? Two whysr ·one. the subject is taboo. Oh yes. To be in contact with death in any way, you know, even just talking about it, somehow confronts us with the possibility of our own death.
The second why is more complicated because it has to do with language. Words. Words. Words, Words. Words. Words. Words. Words makes allusions to what we have experienced through our senses. Most of us here have never gone through the ultimate sense experience.j)~4~+A- So wecompare death with things we know w about·. Take sleep. Sleep. Sleep. You are in a deep sleep. Deeper. Deaper. Deeper. Sleeper. Deep. Deep Sleep. Slee ~ . C ~ l~ ~leep .
(E:veryo-:1·3 ;c; ea. •s t: o slowly move into a trance-like state.
Dying is like
ory. It U V/ J)£-o vacation~~
= • • ' • • • J
Urchins improvisation.
After the urchins are all present, there is a scene which shoild change each night. The elementa of change is very important. Their reason for· being there, we should find out, is because they want the Little Girl to come and play with th~. When Big Emma points out that they haven't been around to play with Little Girl in several years. In fact, she's never even seen kmcdwwicuwxx them around before. They say that's true, but they just thought about her for some reason. They knew her from school. And she was quiet and all. So they thought they'd wade through the trash and see if she wanted to play. Big Emma tells them Little Girl left a year ago. Don't know when to expect her back, if ever.
Then The Guardian of the Door activates w/ Singer/Narrator.
S/N. Death is a dreamless sleep. It comes upon us as we yawn Our way through the universe.
A tiny canine animal Was taken to the vet With the in•truction "Put her to sleep." But what was· meant was·: "KILL HER"
Death is a deeamless sleep It come• upon us as we yawn Our way through the universe. " . • • . I
seeae tlaee. Blfctge fzoa: .... •• ••ia.
~e urchins are yawning. They exit. Lennon sits off to the side.
Big Emma. She is in a cardboard kitchen with adjoing dining roon. Furniture is painted onto the walls. Thareis one table in the kitchen which is practical and one in the dining room. She is cooking toast and putting it piece by place onto the table in the dining room.)
I don't know. I mean I think anyway. It was last year at this time, I think, when that bitch, my daughter, told me all I ha~ to do was walk out the door and my life, my way of seeLr :::1i.:1:.:s ·1o uld' cha:tge. So I mmt: "'-:t t : 1~ ·! ,)or e! :::1 hea. We crossed the street. She and the Large Dog went :'-forth and I went South.
I don't know. Then I got scared. Felt guilty about leaving behind all my duties, my responsibilities. My husband. came back. Everything was gone. The swimming pool. The water hose. The toaster. The toast. The binoculars. The miniature toys sat. Everything. 1\nd my husband, what's-his-hame was lying o6 the floor. Oh shit he was dead. I mean, I thought to myself& Rily shit he's daaJ.What am I gonna do? I thought to myself. So I stArted to pick him up. I mean hewas my husband, after all. J\nd I started talking to him, see, like he was alive. Jeez, ya look awful, I said. Ya look like you been the seventh world war or something, ya know. Ya look scared shitless. I thought there was peace in death ya know.
Then he pops up in my arms. Holly shit was I scared then. And he starts screaming&
A man is dying and, as he reaches the point of greatest physical distress, he hears himself pronounced dead by his doctor. If there is a doctor. Which in my case, there wasn't. He begins to hear a buzzing, like a buzzer buzzing. Just \ buzzing. Or maybe it's a rinting, like a ringer ringing. And at the same time hels himself sliding very rapidly through a long dark tunnel. And then he finds I himself outside his physical body. He is still in the environment of his death ·I place, but he is an obsarvor now, a spectator. A part of an audience. '. A death audience. He watches from a deeply ~islltressed state as attempts are I, made to revive him •• In a state of emotional upheaval. There's no need for that! 1Then he doesn't mind anymore. he gets used to his new condition. He still has / a body. But it is different, with different powers from the physical body. j Things begin to happen. Others come up to him. To meet. To help. He glimpses spirits from his past. Like a bad Frank capra movie. Friends who have already died. Thevmagically a warm, friendly spirit, loving, a spirit never encountered nefore- a being of light• appears.
Without using words, the spirit asks a question which forces him to evn~uate his life. Then there is an instantaneous playback of major life events. It's like a rerun of memories. Suddenly hefinds himself at some sort of border. It is the border ~~hich separates earthly llfe and other life.
And that's when you came in you bitch, mu husband said to me. I had to come back to earth here because my time has not yet come. And since I'm back you have forced me to resist death. I am ove~lhel m ed by joy, love of you, and pence. I will reunltlwith my physical body and live again. I nm going out to tell others about my experience. Then he rnn out the door and was hit by, a ~~ssing ' ~ J {kAe;eee,_ c ~ n ~~~/N~ ~ instantly killed. lf( ) I didn't bother to .go out there as the ambulnnce .cleaned up his body and \_STJ $u. • slipped 11: on~?, ~~e - - ~ - ~::c~~':.· _I ~ ~~t watched fr~~ . :~e window, from behind the curtnln, c l~ ... ..) .. ·" l:...... _ •• u·-l:Jhbor or sorn e .... .;l .. ~ . if/?A~ ~ 6 ~-~ ' • I
( As Big Emma looks out curtain, street w/ Large Dog. They reco ~ ch other. ance between ~~ the two as they at to see one aonth r thro curtain. LG is seen only ---- on monitor; B seen from rear. Finall G enters space w/ Dog. BE starts toasti ng pause. BE begins to speak: nothing like words come out. Instead, there is music. BE tries several times. Then: ). ·
LG. I'm playing music through you so you won't talk.
BE. )Music)
LG. Don't even try. I decided on the way back here, I didn't want to hear from you right off. So don't try. I have some things to tell you before you tell things to me.
BE. (Music)
LG. I see you've noticed it al~eady. It takes some lohger than others. Frankly ~t m I'm surprised you saw it right off. Well, it's part of me.
VI,.. (Music •. BE hides. behind curtain. TV's monitor her from rear. The Guardian of the Door activates~ Singer/Narrator sings: ~ 7/ stx. 6/tc..t- I'm a alae~ blues bopper, baby. ~~~ My light is gonna shine on you ~ I'm a black blues bopper, baby I'm gonna tell you something new.
You say you woke up this morning Your head vas in a tizzy Feeling so low down bout living And your mi2S mirror makes you frowa. Pick up your lectric razor machine Put it gainst your crusty face. Machine starts pullin out hairs Like it vas some wh~sker harvester Hold on tight when Iife is comin down
Cause I'm a black blues bopper, baby My light is gonna shine on you I'm a black blues bopper, baby I'm gonna tell you something new.
You say you heart ain't into living When there must be better things to do Like going away from people And leaving the earth behind Dyin won't cause heart ache When there's nothin left to do It's just a cheap word to hide us From knowing vaht's to know Dyin ain't no bug black hole Dyin,U.b it won•·t harm your soul Dyin ain't no TV soap Dyin is the best of dope And you're dyin, dyin, dyin. • . f
I'm a black blues bopper, baby My light is gonna shine on you I'm a bla k blues bopper, baby I'm here to tell you something new.
(Guardian performs some intricate movements with arms and head. It looks like a code or a message as sent by flags in. the navy. Something like that. LG adjuats herself onto corner near front window. LG begins low volume monologue w/ her alter ego. It is miked so it sounds like she is speaking to herself, or rather between her selves, male and female.i)lixtwaatzx
~ LG. Ah, nuts. All i know is i went away from here a year ago. Lokin for change. lJ; I thought. It's different when you're looking for change. As opposed to just being aware of change. I think. I never found change. It found me. All the time. Change. And every time change happened, I was surprised. Like change in me, for eaample. Part of me dies when I change. It's sad. I mean a part of me is always dying through my changes. Death happens all the time. You'd think ~ I 1 be be used to it. Death. Death. Death. Death of me. My death. Me die. I die. ; ~~ Mo dead. He dead. dead. Dead. dead head.
~;' ~ _ It was like this: I walked out that door there. Ran out. With my· mother on y/ !I ~ 0 ; ~ ~") /"- 1 •my right arm. The Large Dog 1e•shed through my left hand. We ran across the o l I ./1..7 street. Then I went North. She vent South. God, that must mean something. ~ "~ l :J', "'""' /.. I can tell. It's got to be a syiabol at least. Or a sign. An omen, maybe. ~ "- ...,.' a ..) 1 Anyway. North. I went North. All the rubble. The shit, the crap in the satreets. Severs clogged up. Radios blarini full blast out broken windows. Announcements: ~ Don't step in the shit. Avoid the garbage flies. Let no rata cross your body at night.
How can you find yourself. You can't concentrate with all that kind of stuff around. Looking for my•elf. Ah, yes, I was on a quest. Looking for me out there in the shit and garbage. I was sure all I had to do was walk out the door and I'd get the messages. Questions anavered. -Gurus. You know: gurus with the answers and all. But I just got more and more confused about me.
~- Then there were the diversions. The government called them that. More like world wars. Millions killed. But buildings still standing. I mean those that were left in the first place. World war seven passed by in a few minutes. Suddenly the corporation was changed again. More death. New leaders. Water executives. In power nov those big guys with the funny suits and those little water canteens strapped to their sides for sale. But who can a~ford them?
f?.f&.\nd there I was. Just wDi:Jigwalking around. Aimless. Footloose • . exzt... Carfree· Looking for me. Or so I thought. And wham. I died again. I mean part of me. I left here a Little Girl. I know I was that cause I read the play. And there I was: this character called the Little Girl. I was written down there on the page and all. Me. The Little Girl. No neme or nothing. I mean: nothing personal. Just the Little Girl. So I believed it. I thought it was true. I mean, you usually believe things when somebody'• taken the time to write it down pn paper. And then, you knowm, when you get an entire group of adult people ~ogether an d they put on the play just like you saw it written down there. I mean that gives you more a sense of identity than i f it's not written down. I think so. £7 So: WHAM. There I was. I died again. This time a voice, a being, a kind of light appeared. It was him. Itwas me. I mean I think it was me creating him, but he was within me and without me. I mean.·•• John? John? Are you here? ~ ~ . (s · .. . '
(Guardian cranks up. Actor/Narrator enters. There is conflict between A/N and Singer/Narrator as they sing the following.)
AN. Everey play has got a story. Of this I've been told. And stories always have connections. So it's important that you get this part.
S/N. Every play has got a story So let me sing you ours one tL~e. Listen closely to my story Cause now is the onjj time it matters.
AN. The story of our play:
garbage in 6fr . - r:-.a:.·a ,.ms u Little Girl Who ran away from home. She wns looking for a friend But she found only garbage. She wandered through the North She wandered through the East. She wandered throught the West. And she never went South. Oh no she never went South.
ntere was garbage in the North ntere was garbage in the East. ntere was garbage in the '-lest. 'n\ere was garbage every place she turned. She turned around and round. She scurried under gcound. She looked for hel{,friend .al ;tc!t'ft"'!--h And fu sought him day And all the time she looked for him She was hounded by the furies Oh yes hounded by the furies.
And what she didn't know · As she searched through fields J\nd ran throughthe wodds Was her friend was all around her And her friend was •••~xh••< by her side. Sh.,came.back to hom•~ her place. And as she looked her in the face Her mother told hertenderly As she held her in her arms, Girl home is where the heart is Home is where it's at, girl. ~ Little Girl. (Speaking to Big . Sometime after· she returns through the doo th Large Dog. She has been away. Last year's a ence saw her and Big Emma run out the door at e end of the performance. So far they have seen B.i go through .--the boring ritual_9.f. - toas ead and heard an opera-like singer-perform an aria psychically. The/ aria is a de ption of events outside the space which h to set the locale and mood of the performance e Little Girl has returned, somewhat disillus:i, 1 ed a confused about her identity.)
I am an enigma to myself., Mama, Big Emma. After I left here, I roamed through the rubble, sidestepping half• dead lesions who would have prefered to think there is still a quantity of life left. There are persons, you know, out there, still -- surviving, who feel nothing-• as you feel nothing in here. I was searching. I saw people searching me. We were looking for each other. But there was nothing there. At least I think not. I know I saw people. And I saw nothing. I lacked the means of comparison necessary for self-knowledge. You see what I mean? I mean, I kept the dog by me always. Cause, see, I can distinguish myseif from him. In point of anatomy and physiology, I could see there's a difference between me and the dog. But as a conscious, reflecting being, gifted with speech, I can see how I'm different. The dog lacks all criteria for self-judgment. So far as he knows he's here, on this planet--at least I think it's a planet; it seems like one--as a unique phenomenon. He can't compare himself with anything. Are you hearing? See, I was looking him in the eyes. Like this, see? And I thought these thoughts. Like I just told you. And he sort of grumbled, and tried to look away. Not cause he was bored or unloving, but just because he didn't have any frame of reference for looking me back in the eyes. Then there was this split-second thing that happened. Like this energy or something that zapped down from somewhere out there in the cosmos. I hate that fucking word. And I came to this realization about the dog and about self-knowledge . The possibility of comparison and hence self-knowledge would arise only if he could establish relations with quasi-human mammals inhabiting other stars. See? This dog can't compare me. . · I
BUT WHERE DID I GET THAT MESSAGE? Where· did this realization come from? Not from the dog. Not from inside me. It had to come from only one place; from some quasi-human mammal on some other star. What do you think of that? Look: you and me. I can't see much difference. I can't achieve self-knowledge by understanding you. We're to much alike in our psyche. But the possibility of self• knowledge resulting from an encounter with a creature of similar structure but different origin! Say, for example, a quasi-human mammal from another star. Now that's startling. But it's not likely, is it? That you or me or the dog for that matter will meet up with this quasi-human. I mean, i know it's there. It's out there cause I felt it. &1t it's not in the cards for me to meet up with it. What I'm likely to meet up with is much more terrifying, because the' search has to come back here. Back inside me. And what's there? A SHADOW. You know what?: by exploring my soul, all I've ever met was shadow~. And what's to be done with shadows. All I can do is reach out, hanc·.• in-hand with the shadows, aRa tiJflun uthc• 1 pf ' 1ka 7. ' . tb1Z ill) Chelt Ut' acqaaift'UoRil~. I aeaa ,. aag ~ ~·&IJA ~a• PC- J~ilde Bu.. _I e&ll touch o+ber~. ~ 7-o ~' ~i~ :. If there were others. Whict-. there aren't. It's mana, Mama. It's touching you unco··iciously. And the touch can last as long as you or I don't disturb it by conscious int~ntion. (Long pause.)
BIG E~:!A. non't, you little shithead . • (LONG pause. Lir II
As Little Girl goesabout investigating, very slowly, her environment and commenting upon her feelings, The Actor/Narrator steps to center.
A?Nt And so lite goes on. In a tiny, uninspiring building storefront in a modern city gone defunct, a Little Girl returns home after a year's abscence. The Little Girl's father has been brutally murdered by the street cleaner. And her mother is a zombie. She has been on a search for identity. And the result of her search has brought her back to her home. Her homes a tiny, uninspiring building storefront once used bya group of itinerant actors in the technology-priented twentieth century. But she has lept over vast continents, entire consciousnesses.
As we examine this life-fresco, it is important to ponder the Persian story ot the love condition. Withthe Persian Magi there was a religious law to the effect that a man could do nothing more pleasing to the gods thaU to till a field, to plant a tree, and to beget a child. Many have called that wisdom.
The coanectionbewteen death and traveling is primeval. In our tapestry of death and dying, death is a voyage of discoverx, objectless and inexplicable to friends. J\nd the return home is sic! Jbhn Lehnon. This here is a tribute. This here is. See? It's got pictures of me from when I was alive. As if that was ever important. Oh. This here is the ~remiere Memorial Edition. Picked it up in a grocery store. Here's something: 1 ' Theyw were so close. They had so much to live for. Yet assasin's bullets stilled a voice which had given the world a message of freedom and a bridge over the generation gaps. John Lennon is indeed a voice for the ages ••• II See that? those dot dot dots. I never diiknow what they were for. And here's pictures of me and Yoko. And then some early ones of The Beattles. ,(lie reads some from the section about his murder. Concludes with:) His Wbice was the volce of youth, a veice of freedom bridging the genera~on gaps. It was a voice that died tragically in the courtyard .of the Dakota apartments that Monday night of December 9, 1980. '' ~ But John Lennon has left his legacy for all the world to have and to hold. His voice wasxts· stilled, yet it really wasn't. zIt has been preserved on records, on Tv films and tapes, and in movie footage that shall remain for as many years as any of us and the genera ions to follow, shall apprecate John Lennon's monumental contributions not only to the world of music, but to the world itself.d Shiver me timbers. Maybe I really was more popular than Jesus. tG. John? John? Is that you? JL. Yeah. LG. It's crazy, ya know. I mean I know you're always with me. But sometimes I get real scared. I need support. JL. Yeah. LG. You JD9st stay by me. Stay with me. Jl. Okay. LG. I can't be let loose. I mean I.walk around all day talking to myself. I'm an enlightened individual. I've grappled with life's problema and dilemmas. I shouldn't be talking to mY,Pelf. I should be settled. I should at least know whether .x I'm a girl or not. JL. Yeah. !) LG. So am I? I mean whcch of me is real? JL. t-laht' s real. That's real. 8 LG. You're such a walrus. JL. (Farts.) . ' . · I LG. Look, John, please tell me. JL. I just farted. • LG. It seems basic that I find out whether I'm a boy or a girl. I've just got to figure it ~ut before I grow up. I ~ JL. Here's a little someching I was working on in Kansas just before I left ~ ~& (.7 the earth plane. A little ditty I put to8ether in the privacy of my apartment r ~ d ri g those las five ye s when I was a househuaband. / ..M ,. -;:tJ , ,t/1\)~ (JL is seen accompanying himself. He playa live and sings as the various V ~ monitors show him playing other instruments. The song can be any song. J LG. But what does that have to do with my problem. JL. Look, I'm just a guide. I mean I didn't sign on for this gig. You just happened to pick me up while you were astral projecting. Typical. Wherenver I fuck off this always happens. Some little groupie ••• LG. I'm no groupie. I have the moat developed consciousness oi any human since conac6•u••ess was formed. JL. Very impressive. Listen: you want to know who was my greatest idol? LG. No. JL. Then I'll tell you. It wasn't Elvis. It wasn't Chuck Berry. Not Jerry Lee Lewis. Not Buddy Holly. Not Dylan. It was ••• it was ••• it was •••• I can't seem to recall his name right now. But he wrote songs about people with low level consciousness. Butt level conscoiusness. Cause that's where they think from. You know butt level. Cause that's where their noses are all the time. In other people's butts. He was a lot like you. He wasobsessed with identity. I mean you look for it everywhere, asking stupid questions. He knew it didn't matter. His identity was to make himself look older all the time. I mean the cat was looking right at death all the time. And he was my idol. What the fuck was his name anyway? BE. (Has been watching.) Hey. What you doin? LG. Forget it, mama.· BE. Forget what? Who's this? JL. Pleased to meet ya, mom. ~•ts Name's John. BE. Oh yeah? You look a lot like that guy. What's his name? LJ. Yeah. What was his name? That's what I wanna know. - ~(Guardian cranks up.) LG. What's going on? JL. Finally. Now maybe I can get some ' , A/N~ And now for the entrance of a most impowtant S/N. Hey you c:ut the c:rap. You cant tell my story You'=• just some sap. A/N. Shove it, Caruso. (Monitor pic:ks up Stiltwalker outside, coming down sidewalk. He is telling his favorite joke and enjoying it. He is ·interviewed througheut the next.) Jl. Hey. That's not him. I thought it was him. BE. Who? I LG. Who? JL. HIM. Him who vas supposed to be him. LG. You mean ••• ? JL. I think so. (BE can't keep up. She returns to toasting.~ Long pause.) S/N. Appleas, peaches, pumpkin pie, Who's not ready, holler aye. Ready or not ••• A/N. Alright. Alright. Hold it. Look, we're building an entrance here like it was Hello Dolly or something. It's just Buddha. pause.) Bu-who-who-da Bu-who-who-da-da Bu-who-who-da-da-da Bu-who-vho-da-da-da-da (A rhythm is begun. Others join in. Cameras pic:k ~~~~ down street. He is walking on walls and sidewalk ~t±me:i fight to get to him to interview him first. But he remains aloof. Not responding. He comes into space as others are still chanting.) JL. Here he is. LG. Is this him? JL. HtmseU. (LG gets onto knees. Bows low.) TB. Arise, child. Didn't John tell you? JL. I never had time. TB. Your search has touched me and the charm which your presecence here r adiates· adds itself to the brilliant burst of things I love. And I wish to make it clear from the start: I only love things. I love their spakrle and I love their charm. LG. But how do you love things? I thought things only existed to be manipulated. ~~ Wait! This must be a test. ~· TB. No test. You are correct. Things existl to be manipulated, but with love, dear. LG. But I don't love men. I don't love women. I don't love things either. TB. Yes, child. You must learn to love love. JL. I'm sitting over here when you want me. MaxxJawxwj••~~~··*x•••••rxx TB. You must open your heaet. LG. I know. TB. Did you suffer in your travels from thought plane to thought plane? Ddid you suffer in· your travels to arrive at a point of suppressing your passions in such a dull and uniform life? For I am sure, in your heart' in hereisn't it?) that your emotions are as varied as the richness of the rainbow colors, and that their combinations are more varied than even the infin.te spaa of the 1 universe. v~ ~ ~ ~ LG. I have cried so much that I have now come back home, to a point where I ~ ~ ~~} can no longer distinguich between tears of sorrow and tears of joy. ~~ · TB. Such taagedy you express. It is clear that I am here now because you are here nov and we can't be elsewhere. LG. Yes. TB. And it is true that I have arrived at a state of all sensation, an equilibrium which, even in Spring, cannot submit the iove of• another human being to being troubled. Fear not, child, your troubles are about to end. LG. All of them? TB. All of them and none of them. Ask me. ~ G. Questions? You mean ask you questions? Do you believe that a man can live alone without ever putting himself out for another person in reciprocal exchange of attractions and reactions? Do you really believe that man can live without loving? ·' TB. Absolutely, child, because happiness in this case would only be a sort of sickness. LG. Of the greatest human dillemma in the world, which is the greatest? TB. Yours, child. LG.Is life endless? TB. Of course. LG. Is there life on other planets? \ TB. There are no other planets. \ LG. Is there God? TB. Yes. LG. Are you God? TB.I am God reincarnate, as are you. LG. Am I a boy or a girl? TB. ~~at? Would you repeat that? LG. Boy or girl? Am I a boy or a girl? TB. Yes, you are, child. Now let's see, I think I must prepare for a ritual or s~ething here. Let's see. You must sit there. And I'll peeform here. S/N. Where are they now, The Buddah and the Girl? S..X They are dropping stories like a rosary of pebbles Falling on the road to discovery So they can find ~eir way back. A/t~. But soon it will be night and they will~ be able to find the road that ~~ q - ~ they marked with the pebbles, because the next"" day the pebbles will look just Jt? like all the others on the road, and everything will be thrown into confusion, ~-·~O the confusion which we try to escape from every day • \ .-OJ!""' • I S/N. Y You are right. . ~ t ...... D~./) We can never turn back a Y' ~ On the road of memory. /-{ } Ridin down some dark road somewhere J A There's danger at the end of the line r"J .f)l' !15 But you gotta get back late tonig t f / . \ Or tommorrow you'll be drivin back. J Can't think about what's up or down Can't worry _on trips around the town 1 r;; obody can turn you and pdlur you out. · l Buddha song/monologue: A young chief married and soon aften1ards his wife fell ill. He sent around everywhere ior the very best shamans and healers. If there was a very good shaman at a certain village, He would send a canoe there to bring him for his wife. None of them could help her help herself let go. She was sick a long time and then she died. Now the young chief felt poorly about the loes of his wife So he decided to find.someone who would carve his wife's image. He went all over searching for a carver who could do this. One day a man wlked up to him very confidently and said: "You are going from village to have wood carved like your wife's face, And you can't find anyone to do it, can you, now?" I have seen your wife walking a great deal with you •••• I am going to try to carve her image if you will allow me. Then the carver went after a piece of red cedar and get going.' / , When he finished he went to the young chief and said, :;;to/~~ "Now you can look at it if you want to." \.. .:...:...t:) ,.: ,. • , ) So the chief went with him and entered a cave. ~ -- ~ · · There he saw his dead wife looking just like she used to look. He was very happy and he took the sculpture home. He dressed the image in his ,.,ife 1 s clothes and loved The carving as he had loved his wife before she died. One d~y, as he was mourning, he felt the image move. His iwfe had also been very fond of him. At first he thought the movement was imaginati:jo~ •A!o/.1 1 But from the'H~~rfEIW~;h~d it every day. ;-.t!,-/ Y • .-,:: _ t• ,. Because he...... Mp-.zc. ~ ·~l cbme to life some day. He always kept the image close to him. Some time later the image gave forth a sound from its chest Like crackling wood on fire~ and the man knew it was ill. He took it away and iound a small cedar tree growing from the floor. The image of the young woman grew every day to look human, People came from afar to see the woman and be astonished at the cedar. ·The woman moved very little and never talked to .anyone at all, · But her· husband dreamed .what she wanted to tell him anyway. J ;J ~ ->It was . through his dreams that .he knew she was talking to him. ( "- ~ ( ·/:. ~o ) . I . ' . I • • • ~ . .,._,.. I • .L ' . .. BUDDHA'S SOO G TB. Buddha sings a cosmic blues type give opportunity to sin~ and dance. Lrrics should be satire of relig gen ally, not merely making fun of Zen. Approach to song is somethin ke I'm a t dancin buddha and I'm gonna lay some trips on you so you n save your life a d meet your death. Song might have little parables it that make no sense. \ccompaniment is Nick playing piano separately o a pre-recorded monitor. ) . • . ·J LG. (She has been sort of in a trance.) I understand. But still, your answers are philosophical and theoretical based on the assumption that I have faith in thr truth of life after life. But I still need to know. TB. You still need to know. To know. You already do know. LG. Am I a boy .or a girl? TB. (To JL) She dwells on this, doesn't she? JL. I 1ve been with her long enough to know that it's on her mind. TB. And does she know other things? JL. Oh yes. She has a good grasp on what's what. TB. Thenwhy this obsession about sexual identity.? JL. I don't know. God knows, Yoko straightened me out on that but damned if I can remember the lesson. TB. Not important any more? Jl. Yes. Shall we? (They appear to meditate.~ LG begins commentary with herself, between her ~ sexual selves.) LG. I'm going to stop here. That's how I travel. I improvise my trip. You have to do something to catch your breath when time-tripping and astral warping. But I don't see any station sign. I wonder if this is the right station? Excuse me, air, bu't could you tell me the name of this place? You are in the store, some miles from the border, about 2300 kilometers ~ in altitude, 50th meridian, pleasant climate most of the time·, recommended by doctors for people who aave nothing wrong with them. Sensations of the ·~p"'XX alpine. Winter sports •. Skiing, skating. It is charming. Could you show me to a hotel? Behind the train station, lady, is the Hotel de la Gare et des deux terminus. }~dern comforts, hot and cold water, television, private baths out back. Cheap too. I really like this place a lot. You ought to. It's here especially for you to see, to experience. .. . · ) . ~ "I, G~ . V ~ n JL seem TB. So it's true that the rich man lost his fortune the other evening? JL. True. Vast sums of money. But judging from the telly this morning, it does not involve the loss of client's moeny. TB. Only his personal fortune? Not a single penny lost that belongs to another? JL. His wife's fortune too. TB. Shh. It is he approaching. I see him. Let's not give him the impression that we know anything about his loss, for often this type of tragedy, by the mere fact that it has been made public and is a topic of interest in conversation, can drive its suffering victim to abandon the weak life that still animates the dead carcass. ~"'"'='T(--- (Interview in the ltreet with a Gangster.) Gangster: No. There is no hopcof regaing my fortune. None at all. I am happy to have ~ost it. It was weighing heavily on me, dripping into my bloo4 veins. But now I am happy and full of hope. It is only now that I have become rich. (Inside:) ~ LG. Raise It is very strange that they do not suspect the anxiety which scatters my actions in the wind, and which, here at the theatre, will peel off the rind of confusion which imprisons the t&ange of their sinister existence. Excuse me, but I don't see what all the people are doing at the theatre. I have already told you. They are going to the theatre. But they don't have to walk down this street to get there. Actually, that's true. This scene could be more abstract. ~irst of all, I forbid you to discuss the emotions. I forbid you to ask, or even discuss, emotions. The conclusion of your discussion might have, even if only for a seconf, a passing show of truth, in relation to a brilliant or banal phrase. Excuse me, and I protest, madame, b~cause it's possible that you yourself ~ don't know what you want. But if we remove ourselves fram the action, then we / .{ can understand. J,v~ ~~ "t?"(' \ ~ - • We are the words of God, walking the earth connec ng words into elegant - 1~ p rases, but stripped of the meaning. \\,.-~ - .) 16 (Knocking on door. It is the !-! eighbor Lady. Pause as Big Emma answers door.) / • • I BS. Yes? NL. Excuse me. I was just••• B.E. Yes? NL. Well, I saw your light on and I was just••• BE. It's nothing. Just a light. Nl. Are you? I mean is it? BE. No. You wanna come in? NL. May I? BE. Please. NL. Thanks. BE. watch out for the furniture. NL. Sure. Say this is real nice. Like your place. Say isn't that John Lennon? Sure you are. You're John Lennon. I don't know who your friend is, but you're John Lennon. I heard about you. You were an ancestral idol for awhile. S/N Hey th·ere 'ya got a smoke? I'd like a smoke for my head. Hey there got a sm6ke? I'm asking 'fore I'm dead. A/N. You're the man with the songs, Huh? Boil it down, you're .,...,._.s longer must the take on burdens not hi~. He can dump them on of civilization The plow is drawn by two oxen. NL. What's oxen? AVn. An ox is an animal, generally white, w~ tolerates many things mainly because it is too busy chewing its cud to do anything about it. And a ~ o wants a smoke because the oxen has not transported the tobacco. NL. There's a rich oan out there, ya know. Looking inside. BE. Let him look. He won't see anything. Gangster. We are all rich men. And colored people are well brought up. NL . Hhich color? Gang. I see a tableau in there. An anonymous society is being formed for the purpose of roasting the corpses of · , colored people. :11. Which color? Gang. And the colored people, because of the severe rains this year, are becoming more and more abundant. I have a plan to grind them up and sell a new product called "colored powder." t-lomen can use it. They can pat it onto their light faces and it will be absorbed into the pores to protect them from the harsh rays of the mutant sun. And also they can rub it onto their genitals, men• and women alike, and they will have rhythm. Or they can inhale it throguh , . 1 tfte "nasAl pa~sage. You don't need to understand the slave mentality, passed down over years of submission, to guess that this substance called colored powder is really gold. And it will earn a great deal of money. LG. To live. To die. Go right. Go left. Stand up. Sit down. In front. From behind. Above. Below. 'Jhat•s this stuff anyway? The islands have so many things in store for me. Hy heart is a restaurant where the entire world eats to its heart's content, without paying thebill or leaving twenty per cent. Can't do this. Can't do that. Gangster. (Is inside by now) Well, so what's this? You bhe actor? You the light guy? You the stripper? You the audience? So what? I'm a gangster, see. I was first conjured when ••• S/N Hold it! You sonofabitch. No narration. You can't cop that gig. Gang. Huh? NL. Decorum. Stand over there like you're waiting for Lauren Bacall. (TB and JL do something which seems to have great power, as though they are waiting for the cltmax.) LG. (Sings.) The night, like a plug, was closing off the large pipe Out of which the day leaks, the luxury of its light. The lives, little and big all at once again, still felt the dream and the sleep another time To weight the black antique smoke on the scale Of their eyelids, docile and heavy with songs. I was standing there measuring the residue of time Deposited by memory along its journey, Slices of rare words of fleeting and artful images To grind these hard and heavy grains into thoughts. il2~z of the brain, Dust of this world Nothing here can gain All is unfurled. Love covers the eyes of my heart and mind: Horrible, ugly fish, monsters of the clouds, The hatreds, the pains, the crises, the horrors, The vices, the germs and evil spirits, All strike me, humiliate me, bite me and tear. Love knocked on the closed doors of time With gentle taps on my young breast But nobody stirred in the next door room. And I got up to answer myself at the entrance. It waa my body in death and it was not me. Flour of the brain, Dust of the world Nothing here can gain All is unfurled. I• • J .. Z/ / I The Dancing Buddha speaks in a kind of tongue w/ The Little Girl. 11- How lovely your torsoe, my love. ?:;-- What' a ••• that 1 tJ- How lovely your toraoe, my love. ~- I'm••• sorry ••• i ••• didn't quite (!;-How lovely your torso, my love. :.;. .. My love, I got my ..ZZ. love. 6 .. How lovely your torsoe, my love. G ~ How samathing something torsoe, my love. Ia that getting it? ~ ~ Yea. How lovely. your torsoe G-My love, yea i knav, how lovely your torsoe, my lpve. · d"* Yea. How lovely your torsoe, my love. <;-Yea, hov, lovely your torsoe, my love. f>.+ ~ - AND ' TOCEOTHER: HOW LOVELY YOUK' TORSOE MY LOVE. 2-But really it makea no· aenae or little aenae or nonsense or incense or garden fiance hence a dense performance~ (This can be done with any sequence of linea, nonsequitors, questions, etc. Section m~ be impr~vised each night during performance or maybe we need to get some good choices from rehearsals and select the beat-- advantage to that is the production values probably are higher with reheareed scenes. But spontaineity gets lost in the performance. Need to firgure a way to have it well rehearsed ye.t allow for maximum freedom between the two performaers. The song they sing should repeat the developed scene in similar fashion to what ia written above here. ie, that each libe would be a different· character, either little girl or buddha. Just as they enact the above dialogue in 'somevhat of a realistic fashion; they will also sing !n duet form the same scene. Little girl probaly s nga something reaeabling opera a~iaa. Buddha sings something jivey and upbeat. . .. Gang. There's that bull shit philosophy. Look at me. I'm rich. I mean I was rich. I was a rich man. I said: I am rich. But I was poor, because I was xiKk poor when I was rich. I w..\}.rf\ rich with life now that the wallet of my heart is. no longer encumbered with innumerable visiting cards that destiny deposits with bitterness on persona~ who, neverk being at home, are constantly causing traffic jams of the spirit on the principal arteries of the city and of memory. JL. Hey you bastard. I know you. You tried to x.x% ruin me back there on the earth plane. TB. So what? JL. It's okay cause I'~ not judging htm about it. I mean I even worked it out during life there. Then they killed me. Then, and I had a hard time letting go of this one, then they stuck all that shit on me after life there. NL. You were an idol, you know. Gang. A media freak, that's what he was. Yeah, I know you. You're Lennon, that ancestral idol, .rightZ JL. Yeah. Gang. Yeah. I know you. Hated your guts when you were alive. But when you died? Another thing. Had to develop untille4 soil. JL. What's the riff? Gang. That John Lennon, along with the greats, Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Kennedy, Hendrix, Joplin, Kennedy, all those persons represented the 1960's. They were hope. Things could be better. Christ, I mean really! Hope? Idealism? A better future? Really? Hey, look, you were ·a great message. A fabulous collctive massage. The end of an eral 1'You better withdraw and protect your internals like John did those last years. There are c ~ azies out there with guns. Nuts with violent thoughts. You better steal yourself away or you'll be next~IWhat a joke. Give peace a chance. Who are you shitting? I still remember how we laughed in our smoke-filled back rooms about that. Somebody suggested we push it for being the national anthem. Dump that Woody Guthrie song. And then when you were in hiding those years, well, I admit it, I was a little scared, but we knew we had you neutralized. So you were roaming around the country, fantasy-oriented living. Then you ended up living the great fantasy. Perfect. And that album we sold after your death. Perfect. Extolling the virtues of dedication to wife and family. To hell with anything else. Peefect. It couldn't have been better if we'd programmed you for it. I remember that actor we hired to run things. How we'd chuckle in the war office and whistle that tune. Give peace a chance. All the time we were gearing up for those small wars that would finally, after all those~ years, get us to the international business at hand of world· war three. I mean, Christ, how could we even prepare budgets and projections for world war seven, if we couldn't get number three on the boards. NL. Well, I don't remember. I just saw pictures after it was over. •. . . "• . (Stiltwalker has entered theatre somehow.) sT. Say, I saw all the activity in here. Thought you could use a good laugh. Say, what's that. Television? You got television in here. I thought this was just a plane store. You got television? In a theatre store? Hey, look at this. You got several televisions. You got, lemme see, one, two three, four teclvisions. Say, that's something. Six of them. ~~at channel you got here. (He switches channels• Watches some local sttcom a few seconds. Then he flips d al. Monitor shows members of audience.) ·- _... bad. This is a good show. LG. I have this dim premonition that power-hungry gansters would one day use me as a means of deadening people's minds. 'mon, whddaya mean? Not power hungry. I mean gangsters aren't hungry for power. They're mad for it. Okay, power-mad gangsters then. Anyway I had this premonition and just like always it seems to come true. Who's this guy anyway? You mean the one .in the suit? Yeah. I mean what's he doing in this part of town. They never come he" e unless they're after something. They either want to take something or they want to humiliate us. Remember that time we were walking in what used to be Newark? You were beside yourself with rage and grief at the suffering and humiliation. You're just too sensitive. ~ eed to calm yourself some. Yeah, that's just great. Be detached. You make me feel c~~azy sometimes. Like I was Siamese. Like I'm stuck with you and can't shake you at all. Hey, what do you want me to say? I yam what i yam. ~~~ ell, just remomber you• afe not your body. L l V Yeah. Yeah. ~ ~ ~ ~ /,( ~ ~::~~~;c~n~a;n~n~e:I~-~O ~ ~~~ i~ n~ s ~ a~ r~ e ~ f ~o : l ~ l 7 o :w ~ i ~ n ~: L : a ~ u ~ r : e ~ n ~~~~~~~~~~~ ~t:~ ~ VI ~-yv They are try ng auto raps. She is being hounded. Camera operators to interview her. She finally escapes into theatre space. Urchins are left outside, pounding on door.) Hey, what's this. One of them starlets, I bet. Look at this. LB. Phew. Haggots. I'm sorry for intruding like this. But sometimes they just won't give me a break. May I sit? Thanks. (Sits at table.) Gang. Here's lookin at you, kid. You must remember this. A kiss is just a kiss. A smile is just a smile. An asshole is an asshol. And a rose is just a tree to be talked to. ) l • ~ /,_;i.. ::c-.-., ; -.A-- J •: :, -:. '3-!.."i . LB. Oh? " .. . Gang. You look like you're waiting for someone. It's that rose in your book there. What's the book anyhow? Oh. Anna Karenina. Lots a names, huh? LB. Oh? Gang. So, uh, you're here, waiting, huh? That it? Look. You don't need this. Nice girl like you. Why don't you ••• LB. How do you know that? Gang. It's the rose in Anna Karenina. LB. No, love, the other•• Gang. Other? LB. Nice girl. How do you know that? Gang. Well, I been around. (He then begins an elaborate monologue based on slices of dialogue from various 40's gangster types; suggest Boga~t, Cagney, Lorre, Karloff, legosi, raft, robinson, etc. The speech should be disconnected and not make sense beyond the obvious parody. LB is bored and impressed.) LB. I rose from obscurity like a rocket from the silo. Hy hard boned face and smoky eyes made me a photographer's dream when I was just a teenybopper. Gang. You're a real Joe. Swell, baby. I fell in love with you the first moment I saw you. LB. You remember those days, Bogie? Gzng. Yeah, sweety. s a ement we signed: We, the undersigned, as American citizens who in the constitutional democratic government, are disgusted and outraged by the continuing attempt of the House Committe on un American Activities to smear the motion .picture industry. We hold that these hearings are morally wrong because: Gang. Of course I remeber baby. l1y speech to HcCathhy: This has nothing to do with Communism. It's none of mJ business who's a Communist and who ianit. We have a well organized and excellent agency in Washington known as the FBI w o does know these things. The reason I am flying to Washington is because I am an outraged citizen who feels that my civil liberties are being taken away from me and that the Bill of Rights is being abused and who feels that nobody in this country has any right to kick around the Constituion of the u.s., not even the UnAmerican Activities Committee. LB. What ever happened to the good ole days? Gang. They're dead and gone. Things change, baby. . I I • ' • ti t • ~ L. Very nice, but you're both full of crap. BE. Uh-huh. Hey, be nice to my guests. NL. BUests? They just wandered in here off the streets somewhere. Acting like some movie stars. Who you think you are anyway? Urchins chasing after you to get autographs. What kind of reality is that anyway? Gang. My reality, you dumpy slob. Shut yer trap before I do it for ya. Sorr19 baby. No respect anymore. LG. Wait a minute. This is my story. You can't just barge in here, none of you, like you ownedthe place. You just can't do time tripping like it was normal and expect people to keep up. Now you just focus in and get some perspective. You think you're really here or something? Nothing is here except what I will. ST. Hey, I like this show. You watching this? (Comments on the action on the '/r; monitor.) ~- ~:: ::: i :::: c :::: · : r : t ~ oN :p::::·n::::n:-:::.:r::~o:.:::::.pt music.) Now here's the situation. Before the story ends for the year, I must experience some change. I've got to die. Narrators? What's next? A/N. In this time of change, what happens when a little girl runs up against images from her unconscious?. How does she know which images have meaning for her and can help her along her journey toward enlightenment? S/N. The green is grassier on the other side. ~ Nobody knows what's lived and died. I Feeling jumps heavily onto the plane Ain't no use trying to complain. ( -...... ' r • . • • 'Ts! Back to the ritual. See here, now. Everyone in his or her I place. His or her. For those who are uncertain about his or her, )( that person should sit here and look awed and inspired. ~~ JL. The serpent and the moon Can regenrate themselves Symbols for life and death .. Solar and lunar consciousness Within and without time's field. rt' a the eighthnight of the moon TB. You must kill the baser nature as well as the ideal. Forget the difference between good and evil. JL~ When you forget Thenyou get Back into the garden No good or evil. It's the eighth night of the moon. TB. I divine your situation. And let's set this over with, saall we? You rejected the societal progran. There is tension between what is put on you and what you need. You wear a mask because of your adloescent awareness. You've got a centering problem, not a sexual identity problem. Tell me your dreams, child. LG. All of them? TB. Uell, a few of them will do. And in order, please. LG. In order? Of what? JL. Can we get on with it? TB. In order of their significance. Dreams, you know, provide us with views od the future (does that exist? I don't recall.). LG. One: Lots of animals. A seprent kills and devours• the other animals. But God ....a comes .from four corners and gives rebirth to all the dead animals. Two: An ascent into heaven where pagan dances are being celebrated; then a descent into hell where the angels are doia8 good deeds. Three: a bad boy has a clod of earth and throws it at passersby. Four: A desert on the moon where I sink so deeply into the ground ~I reach hell. JL. Isn't this enough! TB. QUite right, John. We've heard enough, my child. I shall speak through another. (The others try to speak, but only music comes out.) t~ ' . L~A • TB. Ah, yea, it is clear. These are ~ not dreams. LG. They're not? TB. Absolutely not, :~~~J~ ~~ ~ ar ~ e ri t ~ h ~ e ~ f fc o ~ ur tunes of fortune. Would you like to h~a r-~ ~ clearly. Then put on your earphones and tune in. (They then perform a song and dance routine using her drema sequence as the basis for the improvisation.) Something is overpowering me. I feel the spirit.)<. Watch out. You're supposed to sing. With dreams upon my bed thou scarest me And I am afrighted with horrible visions. For instance? S/N. One: The Chirst vision of yourself. For as in Adam all die, In Christ shall all be made alive. Hey, what's happening here? Hoe do you know that? I have a detsiny. I see a shadow approaching. It hovers ahead of me. I can almost make it out. ~ TB. Now, wta.ch. (Gang. and LB seem to be prodded, like Topper by his friendly ghosts, and they go through an elaborate but wuick choreography making grunting and moaning noises as though possessed.) LB. Two: the dances in heaven ••• Gang. And the deeds in hell ••• LB. are shadows of moral values ••• Gang. which are always changing ••• LB. dying and rebirthing ••• Gang. and dying again. (XI NL is activated as though something is under her skirt.) NL. (Loud.) Three: the passersby are hit with dirt. The passersby are bad .. 5/N ...The · shadow .. Watch. outl (All hit the ..floor. S.ilence.) Stlit. Hey, what's going on. Gang. Hit the dirt, G.I. Ya wanna hole in your thick skull? ST. I can't hit the dirt. That;s why I 1m up here. To avoid the dirt. Gang. Hit it, buster! LB. (Sexy.) Say, I lila your poles. You have another one hidden under Here? ST. Watch it, lady. Hands off the merchandise. Ouch. Careful. Watch it! Oh, never mind. Continue. .. . • • j( (A loud noise from outside, everyone hits the floor. The Stiltwalker - ~ -watks among them as though they are trash.) ST. Yuk. OOH. Blah. Gagagagaga. Nyany~yanyanyanyanyanyanya. Oops, say, wait a minute. Four: The hole in the moon is adloescence and it's not hell. It 1 s death change. (All move backwards and are clumped against the wa-ll.) LG. It's as if future events are casting a shadow bact by arousing in me old thought forma. Something fatal is about to happen. JL. You bet your aaa. TB. I roll the crystals of time. Hmm. I roll the crystals of time a seond ·time. Hmm. For the third and final time tonigh~ I roll the crystals of time. Hmm. (Laughs a bit. Chuckles. Lauga~ again. Giggles. ETC.) LG. What? Is this what? S/N. Fear of d~k. The interrogation begins ~t night. It is twilight now. Shadows from buildings Crawl into my room Creeping up walls Leaning on furniture Flattening me against the chair. Brilliant neon shatters suddenly Blinding billows of light Disorientation Swept into the lulling rhythm Movement .behind retina: The wueationa are great Mammoth webs of conausion Terror Darkness is absolute. It never comes. (S/N has a pistol which he loads slowly through the iinal scene.) 2..:1 \ -~ 'l'HE FINAL SCENE. (This scene is seen by audience on two levels. On TV monitor is seen the cast performing what seems like a mimed scene of abstract nature. They are apprently attaching imagined articles to the floor and wall, etc. 1-!eanwhile, live they are actually performing the same movements but with elastic stripping. The timing is as precise as possible. Music plays in background, poeticians speak poetry, LG chants as the elastic slowly engulfs her. The movement sequence is cimplete; the actors step to side. The LG speaks quietly· her final monologue.) LG. I am on ~·way, · TraYeling the road to where spirits live. I look. at the road, far ahead, down that way. Nothing happens ·to me as I am a spirit. I am a spirit, of course, I am, As I go down the long clean road. It is true that my spirit meets the others As they come towards me in the night. I am glad to see them and be with them. I have a right to be there. I cannot help it. I must leave because the ppirit Has called me back. I must go, I must obey. So I am going direct to my spirit. There are places down there where all the people Live whom you have seen over and over. They have gone·· when the time has come. Mow I cannot say what they will make of me. I may take the form of a cloud. I wish I could be a cloud. I take the. chance of whatever is offered to me. Whena cloud ·comes this way, you will say: "Look, there she is, a female cloud And -holding hands with a male cloud." When I get to the place of -the spirits, I will ·hear everyth-ing you ask. You must .always remember me. You must talk about me. I will be able to hear everything you say. I am a spirit and I bless you. I thank you. for all you have done. I hope to see you some day. We send you good wishes. Thank you. (She steps from the· webbing. A/N takes her· place in-webbing. O~~ers exit. LG crosses street, turns, looks into theatre;· A/N shoots JL who dies and then rises and walks across street to LG. A/N begins JL opening monologue and either playing instruments or painting wall.) t? ;c; ad 6~ w-/