13 заметок с тегом

vespertine

Под покровом ночи. London

I spend the rest of lunch hour talking to them about my favorite spots back home—Honest Jon’s, Rough Trade East, and Out on the Floor, the record shops I hang out in. I tell them about my mean but sexy Irish girlfriend, Fiona, and my best blokes, Tam and Natz. By the time lunch is through, I’ve created a universe I can see down to the last detail—the Sex Pistols and Joy Division posters on my wall, the fags I smoke out the window of the flat Fiona and I share, the nights spent playing music at the Hope and Anchor and the Halfmoon, the days devoted to cutting records at Abbey Road studios. When the bell rings and Charlie says, “Let’s go, you todger,” I feel homesick for this London I left behind.

Под покровом ночи. Who are you?

There was an Old Man of Peru,
Who never knew what he should do;
So he tore off his hair,
And behaved like a bear,
That intrinsic Old Man of Peru.

~~~

There was an old Person whose habits,
Induced him to feed upon Rabbits;
When he’d eaten eighteen,
He turned perfectly green,
Upon which he relinquished those habits.

~~~

There was an Old Person of Cromer,
Who stood on one leg to read Homer;
When he found he grew stiff,
He jumped over the cliff,
Which concluded that Person of Cromer.

~~~

There was a Young Lady of Russia,
Who screamed so that no one could hush her;
Her screams were extreme,
No one heard such a scream,
As was screamed by that Lady of Russia.

~~~

There was an old Person of Burton,
Whose answers were rather uncertain;
When they said, ‘How d’ye do?’
He replied, ‘Who are you?’
That distressing old person of Burton.

Под покровом ночи. I love you

‘Hello?’

‘Hello, Mandy. This is Dan.’

‘Hello, Dan.’

‘Mandy, the reason I’m calling is…’

(pause)

‘Yes?’

‘The reason I’m calling is… that I have something important I need to say to you.’

‘OK, Dan. What is it?’

‘Um… Er… Although we’ve never met I think we’ve got to know each other pretty well over the years from our talks over the telephone.’

‘Yes, I think we have too, Dan.’

‘You do? Oh good. I’m glad you think so, Mandy, because the truth is…’

‘I love you.’

‘What? Mandy, did you just say I love you?’

‘Yes I did, Dan.’

‘But that’s… that’s wonderful! I can’t tell you how happy that makes me! Because that’s what I was about to say to you! I love you too, Mandy! I love you! I was so nervous about ringing you today. I didn’t think that you felt the same way. I mean I hoped that you might but it just didn’t seem possible. But now I know that you do, it’s… wonderful! Isn’t this wonderful, Mandy?’ (pause) ‘Mandy?’

‘I wasn’t talking to you, Dan.’

‘Eh?’

‘I’m sorry, Dan. When I said I love you I wasn’t talking to you.’

(long pause)

‘Then who were you talking to?’

‘The telephone.’

‘What?’

‘I love you so much. How I wish that you could speak for yourself.’

‘What?’

‘Bye, Dan.’

Под покровом ночи. What is it that I do?

You follow PC Carter and Mr Edwards as they walk away from the hospital, through the village, past lit yellow streetlight after lit yellow streetlight.

They pass a small, square building in a state of disrepair. The building’s bricks are crumbling and its windows are boarded up. The words ‘Gladeville Undertakers’ are printed in black above its door. The words are faded, almost illegible.

PC Carter points at the faded black words.

‘What do you think that means?’ she asks.

‘It doesn’t mean anything,’ says Mr Edwards. ‘Mr Anderson is crazy.’

You fly through the derelict building’s door and emerge inside a small, dust covered room. An elderly man wearing a black suit is standing behind a wooden counter in the centre of the room, lit from above by a single yellow bulb. This is Mr Anderson. No one has entered the building for as long as Mr Anderson can remember, for no one in the village knows what the building is for, including Mr Anderson himself.

‘I am an undertaker,’ he mutters to himself. ‘An under taker. An under taker. A taker of unders. I am an undertaker. I undertake. What do I undertake? What is it that I do?’

Под покровом ночи. Gold Temple

You see a gold temple.

The gold temple is glowing; it is emanating a gold aura of extraordinary brilliance. The gold light touches you and you feel bliss.

The gold temple has no windows, no doors, no openings of any kind. Its exterior gives no indication as to the nature of its contents.

What shape is the gold temple that you see? What shape is its base? What shape is its roof? What shape are its walls?

The gold light that the gold temple is shining continues to touch you and you continue to feel bliss. You gaze in wonder at the enigmatic edifice. It is a seamless vision of endless fascination. You could gaze at it forever.

Tick.

Suddenly the gold temple vanishes and you see only these words on this page.

The feeling of bliss has disappeared.

Where is the gold temple?

Под покровом ночи. The absurdity of it all

When the yogurt took over, we all made the same jokes.

“Finally our rulers would have culture.”

“Our society is curdled.”

“Our government is now the cream of the crop,” and so on.

But, when we weren’t laughing about the absurdity of it all, we asked ourselves, “How did we ever get to the point where we were, in fact, ruled by a dairy product?”

Под покровом ночи. Crucio

~~~

WARNING!

A VERY VERY VERY DARK MATTER.

NO JOKE.

~~~

Foster Parents So you want to be just like Jesus, do you?

Katurian And she said, “Finally you fucking get it!” (Pause.) And they stared at her a little while. And then it started. (The dreadful details of the following are all acted out onstage.) Her foster-mother embedded in her daughter’s head a crown of thorns made of barbed wire, because she was too lazy to make a proper crown of thorns, while her foster-father whipped her with a cat-o’-nine-tails, and after an hour or two of that, they asked her, when she regained consciousness …

Foster Parents Do you still want to be like Jesus?

Katurian And, through her tears, she said, “Yes, I do.” (The parents place a heavy cross on the girl’s back. She walks around with it in pain.) So they made her carry a heavy wooden cross around the sitting room a hundred times until her legs buckled and her shins broke and she could do nothing but stare at her little legs going the wrong way, and they said to her …

Foster Parents Do you still want to be like Jesus?

Katurian And she almost got sick for a second, but she swallowed it so she wouldn’t look weak and she looked them in the eye and she said, “Yes, I do.” (The parents nail her to the cross and stand it upright.) And then they nailed her hands to the cross and bent her legs back around the right way and nailed her feet to the cross and they stood the cross up against the back wall and left her there while they watched television, and when all the good programmes were over they turned it off and they sharpened a spear and they said to her …

Foster Parents Do you still want to be like Jesus?

Katurian And the little girl swallowed her tears and she took a deep breath and she said, “No. I don’t want to be like Jesus. I fucking am Jesus!”

Под покровом ночи. The poor thing

Press Man Please. I’ve got my blind mother to look after.

Hans (yawning) Do ya?

Press Man I’m all she’s got.

Hans Where’s that whiny violin coming from? Oh yes, your mouth!

Press Man She’s not just blind, she’s deaf and dumb too, the poor thing.

Hans She’s blind, deaf and dumb? She’ll hardly notice you’re gone!

Под покровом ночи. Don’t axe stupid questions

Press Man Oh. Shit. Hello again.

Hans scratches his nose with the axe.

What’s the axe for?

Hans For axing things. Don’t axe stupid questions. [...]

Press Man For axing what?

Hans For axing whom.

Marjory For axing who.

Hans Oh, I thought it was ‘whom’ when we don’t know whom we’re axing.

Marjory We do know whom we’re axing.

Hans We do. He doesn’t.

Press Man Well I do now!

Hans Oh, he does now.

Под покровом ночи. Minor changes

Marjory Did the children like it?

Hans Like it? They loved it, mate. Even the thick ones. And there were loads of them, it was all rich kids.

Marjory They loved it? They loved ‘The Little Black Mermaid’?

Hans Um … everybody loved it, reallly. Yeah. Although, y’know, I had to make a couple of changes. Minor changes.

Marjory Changes?

Hans Just to the title … and some bits about, y’know, the lead character.

Worried, Marjory comes to the front of the glass.

There’s no such thing as black mermaids! Everybody knows that!

Marjory But …

Hans But what?!

Marjory There’s no such thing as mermaids!

Hans Splitting hairs! [...]

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