ILLICH 11

Reverse Temporal Engineering by Antony Sammeroff

A scratch night comedy in one act for two actors.
Acknowledgements to Finn Townsley and Gareth K. Vile.

Cast:
TOM. An obnoxious self-described possibilitarian, probably in his early to mid-twenties.
STU. Another character who is more obnoxious than Tom.

Reverse Temporal Engineering.

Tom enters the stage from one side speaking on his mobile phone.
TOM [speaking into his mobile]. Alright man? ... Yeah I'm at my parent’s house... Where are you?... Alright cool that's near mine. 
Stu enters from the other side of the stage, speaking into his phone, they are in different locations.
STU [speaking into his mobile]. Are you coming out tonight?
TOM. I would but I left my wallet in my flat so I'm waiting on my dad coming home and giving me a lift, but he's on night shift.
STU. Damn that sucks.
TOM. Yeah I know. It’s shit.
STU. It’s shitter than shit. It’s like - a turd sandwich with shit as the bread.
TOM. You’re a classy guy. Can you not just conjure up my wallet since you're near mine and I'll walk into town and meet you there?
STU. Well uhm... Maybe I could do that, if I dunno, I had your freaking keys.
TOM. Teleport?
STU. Not invented yet. Why are you at your parent’s house anyway gaylord?
TOM. Well my new brother in law was visiting.
STU. Haaaaa he's bangin' your sister.
TOM. Ummm… yeah. And?
STU. Well, it’s more than you're getting.
TOM. It is more than I'm getting from my sister... not quite as much as I'm getting from your mum.
STU. Touché good sir, I consider myself bested. I assume by your response you like him then?
TOM. Like him how? I'm afraid anything I say will just be construed as an excuse to make a gay joke.
STU. Probably. Well, just like, since you’re, you know, cool with him… how should I put this sensitively?… Ramming? Hm, no. How about ploughing? No, let’s go with Ramming, I like Ramming - original and best. Since you’re cool with him Ramming your sister every night - takin’ that cute little ass to town - I’m supposing you get on with him.
TOM. Such a way with words! I think you managed to make your point really clear there. What a talent. Yeah I get on with him great! Better than with my sister actually hahaha.
STU. Why’s that?
TOM. Well he smokes for one thing, and she doesn't, so we can go out for a fag.
STU. Ah true, that does make him the better human being.
TOM. Indeed.
STU. So when will I catch you? The weekend?
TOM. Balls to that, I’m coming out.
STU. …Of the closet, you surely mean. By the time you walk to yours and then back into town…
TOM. Teleport?
Stu checks his watch.
STU. Noooope… still not invented yet, try again in another half an hour.
TOM. Do you think teleportation will run on the principle of moving particles through a quantum wormhole to another location and reassembling them? or more like a copy and paste mechanism, where the model is molecularly replicated, but the copy is dispatched during the integral process?
STU. Don’t care. Why?
TOM. Well supposing I’m meant to be in two places at once, I could just teleport myself but conveniently forget to “cut” before I “paste” and then there would be two of me.
STU. Yah, but the real you wouldn’t even essentially be at both meetings, so you’d have no memory whatsoever of one of the events. And then what would you do with the copy afterwards? You can’t just Edit/Undo after you control/c control/v. That would be a bit inconvenient to explain away.
TOM. Hmmm yeah I guess you’re right. Maybe he would become unstable and break down of his own volition after filling me in on the details, or maybe his organs could be harvested for science.
STU. No, no, that’s a sentient life form! You’d have protests from People for the Ethical Treatment of Clones.
TOM. Damn those ultraliberal hippies at PECA.
STU. You only want two of you so you can suck twice as much cock as you normally do anyway. To be honest, you’d be better off Reverse Temporal Engineering it.
TOM. What, you mean sucking off one cock, and then going back in time afterwards to suck off another one so that I didn’t have to miss out on any of the juicy cock-sucking opportunities presented to me?
STU. Sure. I actually just meant Reverse Temporal Engineering it so you could be at both meetings at the same time and remember, but your admission of love for the cock was equally satisfying.
TOM. More satisfying, surely?
STU. Indeed.
TOM. How much more satisfying?
STU. Seven. Seven times more satisfying.
TOM. And yet, still not as satisfying as your mums vagiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh.
STU. Damn! Struck by my own sword. You’d also age faster in subjective time while sucking on all those cocks, or being at each of those meetings.
TOM. That’s right actually - but that’s not the only risk. At the second event you could refer to something that happened at the first event which hadn't happened yet subjective to everyone else and confuse people, then – bam! – quantum time paradox, just like that! And the universe collapses in on itself.
STU. That I could deal with, it's all the bullshit you’re talking that troubles me-
TOM. Damn! You really know you lack charisma when a microcosmic temporal contradiction bringing forth the immanent annihilation of the universe along the axes of both time and space is preferable to what is presently occurring in subjective...
STU. Yeah, all that crap would be a relief!
TOM. Ok... I have an idea... Ask behind the bar if your friend left his keys for you.
STU. What are you talking about?
TOM. Look I'm 100% sure this Might work.
STU. Oh you're certain it'll work maybe?'
TOM. Approximately.
STU. On average.
TOM. As a distinct non-zero possibility. In a multiverse all distinct non-zero possibilities become actualities.
STU. In an infinite universe everything that can exist must exist.
TOM. Look, that’s pub talk. Save it for the pub.
STU. But, you're not coming out to the pub because you were at your parents’ house ramming your gay brother-in-law and you left your wallet in your flat.
TOM. Ask behind the bar if my keys are there.
STU. And how exactly do you expect this to work?'
TOM. Well let's see, I saw it in a movie once.
STU. Saw what in a movie?
TOM. This. Teleport isn't invented yet.
STU. Yes, I said that. Twice in fact.
TOM. But, if time travel is invented within my lifetime I can plausibly reverse-temporal engineer things so my keys are left behind the bar for you.
STU. O…kayay... But first - Is the movie you saw this in Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure?
TOM. Fuck the shut up!
STU. Don't you mean...
TOM [interrupting]. Whatever!
STU. But was it though?'
TOM. Obviously. But that's besides the point.
STU. I think that is the point exactly. I think the point is you're taking your queues from a sci-fi-teenage-comedy genre-confused mash up.
TOM. Like Biodome.
STU. What the fuck is Biodome?
TOM. Watch it and see.
STU. You're a dick.
TOM. Yeah, but if you never watch it you’ll never know.
STU. If a man is alone at his parents’ house and no one has a clue what the fuck he’s talking about, will he shut the fuck up?
TOM. Get my keys.
Stu moves to the side to address the barman.
STU [to the wings]. Here! Mate!...
Stu produces a set of keys from the wings.
STU. ‘kin ‘ell! He had your keys!
TOM. See, told you.
STU. ‘the fuck dude?
TOM. ‘the fuck indeed. See, I’m a possibilitarian.
STU. You're a retard. Why didn't you just reverse temporal engineer the keys into your parent’s house?
TOM. Never thought of that.
STU. That’s because you're a retard.
TOM. Not too retarded to do this.
The keys disappear from Stu’s hand or person.
STU. 'kin ell where did they go?
TOM [producing the keys from his pocket and jangling them]. Right here.
STU. Jesus Christ that's awesome!
TOM. Ask the barman for the drink I got you.
STU [addressing the barman again]. Here! Mate!...
Stu produces a pint from the side of the stage.
STU. ‘The fuck dude!
TOM. Yeah you're totally getting in the next round.
STU. Except not I'm not because you're wallets still in your flat, and you're at your parent’s house, and I don't have your keys anymore to go and get it for you.
TOM. Dammit! I am a retard.
STU. I said it first.
TOM. Well, [Tom produces the wallet from his pocket] here it is now I suppose.
STU. You know, this is a very convoluted way to meet up under the circumstances.
TOM. Yeah you're right... We should sort that out.
Tom hangs up the phone and walks across to the other side of the stage to join Stu.
TOM. Hey man.
STU. Hey, Pint?
TOM. Fuck yeah.
They walk off towards the bar like best of friends.
END.

Two Quarks Interact

A quark Interacts with her friend in a cafe, 'I'm so Down! I'm just too Weak to resist his Charm, he makes me Spin, I feel so Strange'
'Don't worry' her friend says, 'I know you've hit rock Bottom, but keep Strong, I'm sure you'll end Up on Top - take Charge - It's meant to be!'
'How do you know?'
'elementary, Particle, you're Composites.'





dedicated to Finn Townsley


21-09-12 update
A quark Interacts with her friend in a cafe, 'I'm so Down! I'm just too Weak to resist his Charm, he makes me Spin and I feel so Strange! How did I ever get so Entangled?'
'Don't worry' her friend says, 'I know you've hit rock Bottom, but keep Strong, I'm sure you'll end Up on Top - take Charge - It's meant to be!'
'How do you know?'
'Elementary, Particle, you're Composites.'

"Static Speed Dating" by Antony Sammeroff and Finn Townsley 04/12

Cast:
Narcissist (f)
Shy Guy (m)
Insane Girl (f)
Arrogant one (m)
Humourist (m)
Yogi (f)
Intelligent One (m)

Narcissist enters the stage and addresses the Audience.

Narcissist. Hi, I'm a narcissist! I’m into...me, and the things I like, and I really like people who like Me! I really looking for someone who’s interested in talking about me, and likes listening to things I say about life. My perfect partner would look just as attractive as I do but wouldn't have much of a personality so that he could be like, a blank canvas that I would project whatever I want in a man onto. So I'd think that he was exactly the man I wanted despite who he actually was! Ok text back!

Narcissist moves to the back of the stage to watch. Shy Guy enters the stage and addresses the Audience.

Shy Guy. I'm the shy guy. I'm really sweet and tender, and not in any way sexual. I'm the kind of guy you tell your friends you want, and you wish you were in love with, but when you meet me you're just never really attracted. I tend to watch from afar without ever making a move. I think that friendship will one day lead to love, but it never really does. I live in my imagination and I'm artistic: a musician , watercolour painter or short-story writer. I hang out in groups of people who speak about lofty matters but I just listen and never really say much. If I do find a girlfriend she'll be a little more sociable than me, and will probably stay with me for years and years and years, but only cos she's afraid of change. Please be that woman.

Shy Guy moves to the back of the stage to watch. Insane Girl enters the stage and addresses the Audience.

Insane Girl [Overly Enthusiastically at First]. Hi!!! [suddenly self-conscious, she corrects herself] I'm the girl with self-proclaimed insanity! My normality confuses me so I try to make up for it by regularly doing arbitrary things, which may seem 'random,' as they call it, but are all actually completely premeditated! I consider my clothes to be a feature of my personality, because I don't really have one. My perfect partner would be as bland as I am but be in no way self-aware enough to consciously recognise how banal he is!

Insane Girl moves to the back of the stage to watch. Arrogant One enters the stage and addresses the Audience.

Arrogant One. Hi, I'm the arrogant one. I don't care who you are really, you're just an extension of my will upon the world to love me. My standoffishness attracts you to fill the void as you wonder why I’m not showing any signs of interest, but I'll be done with you as soon as I get bored, because I've had you and I need to prove myself! I need to constantly reaffirm that I can have other people, otherwise I won't feel secure in my status. Realistically, lets come together and perpetuate out own cycles of self-loathing. Call back! If you think you can handle me.

Arrogant One goes to the back of the stage and puts his arm around the Narcissist with the implicit assumption of success. She is only too glad for the attention and they pair up, while watching the rest of the speed-dating candidates.  Humourist enters the stage and addresses the Audience.

Humourist.  Hi I’m an alcoholic! Just Kidding! I’m the one who uses humour to cover my insecurities - Just kidding! Well no, not really. I tell jokes a lot! I pretend not to care if nobody laughs but actually in dying inside - Just kidding! Well, no not really. Everyone seems to like me, but no one wants to date me. I can't understand why because I’m always the life and soul of the party! I'm just not quite sure if people are laughing with me, or at me - Just kidding! Well no, not really. Hahaha! I want you to love me! I've been obsessively in love with my best friend for years but I promise not to compare you to her too much... If you choose me I promise devotion, love, and altering my personality in any way shape or form that suits you, quite despite my basic human needs. Just kidding! Well no, not really.

Humourist moves towards the back of the stage and, seeing that Narcissist is already spoken for moves towards Insane girl and prods her in the belly playfully, she gapes dramatically and then starts play-fighting with him, slapping his hands, before suddenly wrapping her hands round his neck and trying to lick his ear while he moves tries to move his head back out of her reach. Finally the kiss once on the lips and settle down as a pair, his arms round her waist, to watch the other speed-dating candidates. Yogi enters the stage and addresses the Audience.

Yogi [Slowly and drawn out, with a sense of calm]. Namaste. I'm the one who does yoga. I'm looking for a spiritual life-partner who will talk about self-attainment and non-attachment while bolstering my spiritual ego by telling me how honest and full of love and light our relationship is compared to those of the common herd. We’ll sip green tea while he ignores his own emotional environment and dismiss any signs of mine as a mere symptoms of the ego, which can be overcome with sufficient chanting and meditation. The Lotus Flower is ever in the water but not of it. Inlakesh. We are one. 

Yogi finds her way over to Shy Guy, presses her hands together before her and bows then leans over to kiss him on the forehead, he blanches for a second embarrassed, and not knowing quite how to react, but he bows back self-consciously. She takes his hands before her and holds them up, then slides them round her waist onto the small of her back, and the two watch the final performance as a pair.

Intelligent One. I’m the intelligent one who’s completely socially inept. Sometimes I come across as a bit interesting at first, but I’ll soon put you off by talking down to you and belittling your opinions. I can’t understand why being serious all the time doesn’t create attraction and I only talking about worldly matters and social science to the exclusion of all personal thoughts and feelings. I look down on most people for being too frivolous anyway and any jokes I might make require extremely specialised knowledge to understand so I’m looking for someone bookish whose as boring and serious as I am. If you’re interested in meeting up to exchange opinions, or better still listening to my ideas, especially on how the world should be run, please email me at this address.

Intelligent One turns round to inspect the talent and realises everyone has already paired off.

Intelligent One. Balls.

Lights go off, actors organise themselves in a row.

Lights come back up and actors take their bows.

Act 1 of Counting Down The Days, by Antony Sammeroff and Finn Townsley (with subtitles for humour)

Aritist: (Excited) Oh so you’ve read Adorno’s On the Fetish-Character in Music and the Regression of Listening.

[Oh, fantatic! You're someone as smart as I am!]

Lush: Yes, indeed, I found it most enlightening, but I have to say Tea-adores reliance on outmoded views expressed in the last instalment of Marxes Das Capital somewhat retrograde. (Cooughs) But speaking of cultural theory, did you not find Sartre’s Nausea expressed a most simplistic view of human angst.

[Yes, slightly smarter, but lets talk about something I know more about than you. I'm feeling angsty but am so emotionally stunted I can only refer to it obliquely.]

Arist: I no longer remember anything of, nor can I comment on Angst. It seems so far away, distant, ever since I met the woman. 

[Sorry dude, can't feel ya, I'm getting laid!]

Lush: A Woman? Singular? Surely the plural would be far more worthy. Why, Would Byron set his heart on one? Was Alexander to be tamed? Would Huxley settle for that ragtag Laura alone? But of course not! A man of letters exists to be loved: if by one, well it is, if by more than one, why even more so. For imagine if a man should conclude to write only, arbitrarily, with the letter D. Such a stunt upon his vocabulary would that bring. And likewise, why should the language of love be so limited, if only for a woman.

[What? Just by that one chick? 99 Problems and a Bitch ain't one! Variety is the spice of life! It's good that one chick is into you, but so much better if more people want to shag you. Why would you give it all up for one woman?]

Artist: But were she a letter she would express all the syllables and more so besides. Had you had seen her eyes, like the sun and moon burning bright within that face of which the cosmos is merely an effigy, then you would surely only begin to fathom the depths of affection that well within my breast. Then you would know, that there could be no other sun and moon that could possibly illuminate, nor capture, the heart of the man that I may hope to one day call the earth that these heavenly bodies humble in their orbit.

[She's the best thing ever! If you saw her face the way I did you'd be like "I wanna tap dat" but you wouldn't even know how much I wanna get with that shit! I'm bangin' her and it's so awesome! Do you know how awesome it is? No, cos you're not bangin' her, obviously, but it's so awesome that I don't wanna bang anyone else, ever! And I just feel so lucky that she wants to bang me too!]

Lush: I have gazed upon those celestial bodies that you declare all too fare, as those common features of her face, and I feel you are too much romanced my friend and all too soon, by those baubles that sparkle, not with the light of the sun but only in the sunlight. I fear you will taste these forbidden fruits, much to your folly, and from the gates of Eden I will have to bid you a sad farewell. 

[Yeah she's got an alright face, but it ain't nothin' to write home about. One the spark dies down you'll be all like Dang! Wish I'd put bros before hoes!]

Artist: If Eden is the price to pay for bliss, then for what? When Eden holds no longer bliss, for that which we dare call Eden pales in comparison to those temptations held without, then of what is this fair paradise Eden reduced to but mere shadows upon the walls opposing the platonic form of Love. But we are excommunicated from Eden only to return to it, perhaps not in body corporeal, but in our ethereal heart of hearts, where we find that very true bliss of union with the god incarnate in man, is in the womb of that fair rose we call the woman. 

[Yeah the stuff we done like drink, philosophise, go out sarging (and bum) was pretty awesome at the time, but bangin this chick is so far beyond all that shit. Infact bangin this chick is the new drinking, philosophising, sarging (and bumming.)]

Lush: Why deny the possibilities of the infinite joys that could exist outwith, for those finite joys that must exist only it the confines of that paltry warmth that is her one. As a great man once said, “Marriage is the tomb of love.” Yes, indeed sex is a battle and love is a war, but would Sun Tzu commit himself to strike on only one front in neglect of all the other affairs of state? “The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike,” and you, my friend, will forget her. 

[But there's so much more than bangin this chick to experience. You shouldn't bang her to the exclusion of everything else because when it end you'll feel totally empty.]

Artist: “This soul should fly from me, and I be chang'd
Into some brutish beast! All beasts are happy,”

[Let me feel empty, she be drainin' me dry bro!]

Lush: “For, when they die,
Their souls are soon dissolv'd in elements;”

[Yeah, and when you're dry you'll be nothing.]

Enter Victoria.

Victoria: Fare artist do you await my call? Charming lush are you yet here past the sunset? With tongue so eloquent yet step’d in vicious poison. Away! Lest thy carriage reveal thy true nature, for it is but a pumpkin dressed in grandeur awaiting the stroke of dawn.

[Hey babe, you ready to go? Oh god not you! The sarcy cunt, why don't you fuck off on home.]

Lush: Save they words sweet scented succubus. Do you not see how you have reduced this once great man, in swaddling bands, to worship in the shadow of thy visage. Will you leave him weeping at the gates of hades as you dance back into Pluto’s arms?

[Yeah you're hot but you're still a bitch. You've got him pussywhipped alright. Go to back to Hell and fuck Satan.]

Victoria: Oh how your words wound me like the sharpest bolts of slings and crossbows. Should you feel that the appeal of thy wits are of more allure than eves of mine tender bosom, then let the kind artist decide how better he should spend out those last dwindling hours of twilight.

[Harsh! Well if you think he'd rather hang around gabbin' to you then get down with this, why not ask him what he thinks?]

Artist: Let me not decide! 

[Duuuuude, unfair!]

Lush: ….Dare thee use thy womanhood to seduce? For what do you think you are but Helen come again?! Do not tempt Agamemnon to send his ships for I will besiege the gates of Troy if it means to lose Achillies a thousand times over in the pursuit. Yet till the morrow, have your wicked way, for Odin held trust enough in Loki’s better nature to let him roam free and to fall (to artist, without pause) by his own errors.

[Got him pussy-whipped, huh? You think you're all that and then some? I will go to town on you bitch! But fair enough, if he wants his hole I'm willing to stand back and let it happen.]

Victoria: (mockingly) Then let our paths not cross once more till Ragnarok ensue. Come now gentle artist, turn thy sweet fingers again through these fragile threads and sing of me once more my praises.

[See you in Hell! Come on babe, tell me how much you love me.]

Artist: Yes, a thousand times! A thousand times and yet a thousand more should it please the swooning heart which beats within thy tender breast.

[Sure, I'll do anything for you.]

Act 1 of Counting Down The Days, by Antony Sammeroff and Finn Townsley

This is the kind of thing that Finn and I do when we're up till 9am drinking rum.

Aritist: (Excited) Oh so you’ve read Adorno’s On the Fetish-Character in Music and the Regression of Listening.

Lush: Yes, indeed, I found it most enlightening, but I have to say Tea-adores reliance on outmoded views expressed in the last instalment of Marxes Das Capital somewhat retrograde. (Coughs) But speaking of cultural theory, did you not find Sartre’s Nausea expressed a most simplistic view of human angst.

Arist: I no longer remember anything of, nor can I comment on Angst. It seems so far away, distant, ever since I met the woman.

Lush: A Woman? Singular? Surely the plural would be far more worthy. Why, Would Byron set his heart on one? Was Alexander to be tamed? Would Huxley settle for that ragtag Laura alone? But of course not! A man of letters exists to be loved: if by one, well it is, if by more than one, why even more so. For imagine if a man should conclude to write only, arbitrarily, with the letter D. Such a stunt upon his vocabulary would that bring. And likewise, why should the language of love be so limited, if only for a woman.

Artist: But were she a letter she would express all the syllables and more so besides. Had you had seen her eyes, like the sun and moon burning bright within that face of which the cosmos is merely an effigy, then you would surely only begin to fathom the depths of affection that well within my breast. Then you would know, that there could be no other sun and moon that could possibly illuminate, nor capture, the heart of the man that I may hope to one day call the earth that these heavenly bodies humble in their orbit.

Lush: I have gazed upon those celestial bodies that you declare all too fare, as those common features of her face, and I feel you are too much romanced my friend and all too soon, by those baubles that sparkle, not with the light of the sun but only in the sunlight. I fear you will taste these forbidden fruits, much to your folly, and from the gates of Eden I will have to bid you a sad farewell.

Artist: If Eden is the price to pay for bliss, then for what? When Eden holds no longer bliss, for that which we dare call Eden pales in comparison to those temptations held without, then of what is this fair paradise Eden reduced to but mere shadows upon the walls opposing the platonic form of Love. But we are excommunicated from Eden only to return to it, perhaps not in body corporeal, but in our ethereal heart of hearts, where we find that very true bliss of union with the god incarnate in man, is in the womb of that fair rose we call the woman.

Lush: Why deny the possibilities of the infinite joys that could exist outwith, for those finite joys that must exist only it the confines of that paltry warmth that is her one. As a great man once said, “Marriage is the tomb of love.” Yes, indeed sex is a battle and love is a war, but would Sun Tzu commit himself to strike on only one front in neglect of all the other affairs of state? “The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike,” and you, my friend, will forget her. 

Artist: “This soul should fly from me, and I be chang'd
Into some brutish beast! All beasts are happy,”

Lush: “For, when they die,
Their souls are soon dissolv'd in elements;”

Enter Victoria.

Victoria: Fare artist do you await my call? Charming Lush are you yet here past the sunset? With tongue so eloquent yet step’d in vicious poison. Away! Lest thy carriage reveal thy true nature, for it is but a pumpkin dressed in grandeur awaiting the stroke of dawn.

Lush: Save thy words sweet scented succubus. Do you not see how you have reduced this once great man, in swaddling bands, to worship in the shadow of thy visage. Will you leave him weeping at the gates of hades as you dance back into Pluto’s arms?

Victoria: Oh how your words wound me like the sharpest bolts of slings and crossbows. Should you feel that the appeal of thy wits are of more allure than eves of mine tender bosom, then let the kind artist decide how better he should spend out those last dwindling hours of twilight.

Artist: Let me not decide!

Lush: ….Dare thee use thy womanhood to seduce? For what do you think you are but Helen come again?! Do not tempt Agamemnon to send his ships for I will besiege the gates of Troy if it means to lose Achillies a thousand times over in the pursuit. Yet till the morrow, have your wicked way, for Odin held trust enough in Loki’s better nature to let him roam free and to fall (to artist, without pause) by his own errors.

Victoria: (mockingly) Then let our paths not cross once more till Ragnarok ensue. Come now gentle artist, turn thy sweet fingers again through these fragile threads and sing of me once more my praises.

Artist: Yes, a thousand times! A thousand times and yet a thousand more should it please the swooning heart which beats within thy tender breast.


Click here for awesome annotated version!

Lock and the Emerald Eyes for New Writing Festival

I just finished the 3rd major rewrite of the second play I ever had staged "Lock and the Emerald Eyes" ("Lock..." for short - teehee.)

It's been a nostalgic ride, Laura Jones did a great job of stage managing it last time it was performed at the end of 2009! (Wow sounds like a long time ago when you put it like that!) We had some very memorable actors take on the roles and do very well in them, and Finn Townsley stage managed it not long after our friendship was beginning to burgeon into something more than valued acquaintances, we've never stopped working together since.

The most important changes are that the roles of the two most prominent females have been expanded considerably which was more in line with my original intentions, and the ending has majorly been expanded to the same effect. There are some new jokes, which are always welcome additions in my book.

I don't really know which excerpt would be fit to leave so I might just put in some of my favourite lines/jokes:

LADY2: Oh Lock you are a delightful scoundrel! I fancy you must have a girlfriend!

LOCK: A girlfriend? Heavens no! Nothing of the sort! I have merely a wife, a mistress and a lover...

THRICE: Did you remove Self's eyes?

LOCK: Why should I care to remove Self's eyes?

THRICE: It is of no interest to me why you should care to remove Self's eyes. I have asked whether you did or not, and that is all I want to know! For if you did, then here is the end of you mischief, Lock.

LOCK: I, er... I... 

THRICE: Have I not asked you a direct question?

LOCK: One must ever be watchful of asking a direct question lest it provoke a direct answer… 

THRICE: I shall break every bone in your body and fling what is left of you, piece by piece, across the sky and beyond the very sun!

LOCK: What good would that do to Self? Whether I removed her eyes or another did, I'd wager that I alone have the skill and cunning to find new eyes to replace them. If you carry out your threats Thrice, then you will always have an eyeless wife...

LOCK: Would you agree, if only for the sake of argument, that if all men were to defer to the law of the jungle in governing their affairs, pandemonium would result?

TEAR: I’m as likely to agree for the sake of avoiding argument.

ZISA wraps her hand around [the emeralds] gently within TEAR's palm and the two struggle over them.

TEAR: They. Need. To. Be. Re…turned…

ZISA: Not. On. Your. Life… They’re. To. Be. Cast. Into. Our. Rings…

TEAR: You. Don’t. Understand. Their. Worth…

TEAR prizes them from her grip at last, and with them in hand he makes to leave.

ZISA: I believe the going rate is THIRTY PIECES OF SILVER!!!

LOCK: Though there is little doubt that most of what men say and do amongst men is only to influence others into acting in whatsoever way we may please, perhaps... it is my bent to be more direct in the matter.


LOCK: Now come with me and I shall show you a fine trick! Follow me as I journey to the very pole of this sphere, where the earth meets the sky and sucks it into its fiery lungs! In that place lies is a fissure which opens into the heart of this hollow sphere, where dragons flush their wings against the scorching rays of the inner sun, and nearer the surface, dwarves mine both day and night for gleaming stones to fill their treasuries. 

DEVALYN: To what nature do we owe this sudden visit... Is it business? Or is it pleasure...

LOCK: Pleasure naturally. I never involve myself in business if I can possibly avoid it! Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say... that all my business in invariably pleasurable.

LADY1: Now she does nothing but toss and turn in her chamber, a sullen ship on stormy oceans, dreaming of her love...

LOCK: My dear Thrice, I do not crave attention, I command it! 

Love pretty much all of Self's new lines:
SELF: Predacious Privation! Exploit and Extort! 

SELF: (making to scratch his eyes out) I shall do unto you quite the same injury!

SELF: Give to me my due you duplicitous deceiver!

SELF: You beast! You shamelessly unscrupulous, scandalously insincere brute!

LOCK: Oh how your words pain me like the sharpest bolts of slings and crossbows. 

Counting Down The Days - totally need to turn this thread into some kind of something, a bit Chekhov

Pop on the kettle, I'm headed home.

• • VJ
    I'm sick of your insane demands
    

    
    
  • 
    
    

    See this is exactly why I work late honey, I've just had enough, is it so much to ask that when I come home after a hard days work to put food on the table for you and the kids and make sure you've never wanted for anything in your life that I get a nice warm cup of tea when I get home. Jeez.
    
    
  • VJ
    I've gone apeshit and buried the tea in the garden. Why do you leave me at home all day with these precocious little brats?! I hate their accents and the way they wobble around my living room. I want to be free, FREE to dance and stick class As up my bum! Is it really so difficult for youself-important patriarchal cunts to understand a these basic female needs?
    

    
    

    
    
  • 
    
    

     Now come on darling thats completely unfair, you know I tried my best to support you getting into the academy but it's hardly my fault you had two left feet, I always warned you to practice more or at least take up singing or improv classes to broaden your skill set. As for the kids it's not my fault that you were to coked up in our former years to remember your contraceptive pill, and if they're brats it's only because you always appease them and let them get their own way because you can't be bothered to put your foot down. As for their accents it was your own caprice to leave them with that Romanian house maid, she cost an absolute fortune, but did I say a word about it? No, even when she raided the cabinet for my 35 year old single malts and topped then up with water as though I'd never notice. Horrendous woman she was.
    
    Yes, you made our cold, cold, desolate bed and now I'm the one who has to lie in it. We both do darling, so we might as well make the best of what we've got.
    

     
  • 
    
    

    Alas I remember all to well those endless days when we were young, and innocent and in love and never had to ask anything more out of life than those eternal walks through the park in summer time, our hands clasped inseparably together.
    
    You used to laugh at my jokes back then, however frivolous they were. Now you just snort and make snide remarks.
    
    Ah to be back in those days, when you smiled that glorious smile I knew I gave you butterflies in your stomach, and the mere notion in turn gave me butterflies in mine.
    
    That was before you lost your looks of course. Yes, you let yourself go the moment you cleaned up trading in one vice for another. You no longer felt the need to inspire my attentions clearly, and on the rare occasion you did let me make love to you it was more like going through the motions, putting coins into a machine to keep the music playing, satisfying a basic need. No, there was no love being made then, none at all, but it was at least better than what passes between us now. How was I to guess the woman I worshipped, my sun and my moon and my very northern star, could turn out to be such a soulless, soulless, godless harpy? God forgive me for saying so.
    
    I've turned old, and I'm dull. I've lost whatever limited intelligence I once may have had, and what's more I'm hopeless. Not even I have hope for myself now. I'll never know
    the feeling of what it is to be alive again. Not likely.
    
    I'm just counting down the days now. Counting down the days.
    
    Finn Townsley If you had only listened to me Antony, back when we strolled the streets and the name Victoria had never even entered your mind. A free spirit you were back then, a little dove caught in the up drafts of lust and life. Intelligence and women abundant had you those days, and when the wine flowed free and the fragrant summer air rolled off the hills and made hearts leap and minds soar we would head out unto the town. Drink and dance we did, making much merriment and speaking of lofty things as we enriched the lives of those around us.
    
    Finn Townsley  
    But then, on that fate-full night, when your eyes locked across the room and I felt a piece of your soul go forever. Her stare captivate you my friend, and the man I knew was over come by giddy passion. "Be on your guard dear Antony," I said as we strolled lazy down the banks of the river one afternoon "for she is a pretty poison, a sweet scented devil, and I know you may for now think she is a very goddess come to earth, the Helen of our time. But be not foolish as was Agamemnon, and squander your kingdom for your bride, for there is so much promise in a spirit such as yours, and to see it drained by this harpy would truly break my heart." Ah, if I could turn back time, the things I would have shown you, but alas you were proud and reckless. You shrugged of my concern and day by day waste in front of this opiate of a woman.
    
      Finn Townsley  
    But now, what have you become my friend? The husk of a shell and nothing more, for if what I witnessed done to a great mind is love, then I shall have no part in it! Will this travesty ever again share in the sweet bounty of Eros, as the raven quoth, never more. But my friend there is still time, spare thy farthing from Charon's hand and trade it for an ale instead. Return to our haunts, dear Antony, although we are richer in years, neither you nor I are passed this hills crest yet. We will once again return to the lives of men with a future and goal, a life of freedom and pleasure. Spare not another thought on that harpy Victoria and return to the true companionship of a brother in arms.
    
    
    
    

fish and moose pilot

Last night Finn and I finished the first draft of our screenplay for the pilot episode of a sitcom called Fish and Moose, why not click here for the synopsis.

We went out drinking to celebrate and sent it on to friends for feedback, more news in future no doubt :-)

Illich Sketch Show @ Pilot 4 during Edinburgh Fringe

So the Illich Sketch Show was performed live for the first time in the history of the world, ever, ever last night at the Flatrate event, Pilot 4.

Euan Sinclair had this to say on the matter:
"Our first live show was every bit as chaotic as you'd imagine, but Illich went down well with that Edinburger lot. And we performed a new sketch - written three days' previous - that we intend to inflict upon YOU!! ILLICH Hath Spoken."


My brother Jono drove us down from Glasgow and kicked around, even made a cameo appearance as Illich character Mad Dog MacGraw and friends Finn Townsley, Adrianna Polito, and others turned out to support. Yay.

The 10th installment of Illich will be up on youtube shortly. Exciting stuff.

Blogging and "Fish and Moose"

I have this new blog so I guess I should do what blogs are for and blog
I just don't think I'm as pretentious as I was when I got livejournal as a teenager, I always seemed to have something I at least thought was very insightful to write back then.

So I've been a busy little bee

Monday Stuart came over to talk about Close and Faraway the play I am composing music for, and hear what I'd got so far which is a few melodic themes with accompaniment and variations thereupon XP more work soon.

Tuesday night I went out to a creative writing open mic during the West End Festival at Partick Library and heard some people read out poems and bits of prose. I also read out The Pragmatist and recited A Musical Poem which inspired me to post those up here, as well as a couple of other bits and pieces you can check out if it pleases you:

Heart of Matters
The Pioneer
Nympholepsy 

Afterwards Finn came over to work on Fish and Moose which is a sitcom-esque play we started writing maybe a year ago (which is now looking more like a screen play.) FIND OUT ABOUT IT BY CLICKING HERE. The interesing thing about this piece of writing is it started out life as an extensive list of jokes that we had coined over the course of several nights out. Us having a few different strands to our senses of humour, characters began emerging through the jokes as you could think "well that line could be said by the same person that said that line" ...and then storyline started to weave itself around the development characters. It has shown out to be a really cool, interesting and original way of writing, consistently funny, with some very unexpected results regarding the depths of some of the characters. Lots of happy coinicdences and subtext that was coined without preconception.

Today I'm off to Jonos to complete editations on the new Illich sketches, so hope I can post the new one up in the next day or two.