The funny thing about windows is that while you might be staring in or staring out, the window-
It’s a funny thing being a window, because while mostly people want you, open or closed, in a room or in a door, someone always wants something from you, but mostly, mostly they ignore you. Seldom do they, whilst looking through you stop to ponder, my what a lovely window, it’s mostly just the sun they want, or the breeze. Everyone likes windows, indeed they love them, but then, like most possessions, like most architecture, you’re there to sit pretty, to be enumerated amongst someone else’s splendor and forgotten save in times of someone else’s need, desire or whim.
Sounds an awful like being a person in someone else’s life.
What then, is it like to be a window forever gazing out, looking within and stared through.
You want me to tell you about what?
The spider’s touch?
The Monkey’s Laugh?
Or perhaps you’d like to hear what this old woman’s seen.
It was like a day like any other day, casually filled with making a living rather than living it, staring into spaces only people kept their eyes upon, imbibing the ghost of meals and drink, it was just the wanting that gave us feeling. Only breathing that bore any meaning any more. Any more there was, just about the wind, a kind of air that shook our very molecules, imparted tones our bodies wouldn’t tell for years. Bump covered, blister ridden, yipping about Hollywood and Politick Remedies. There was a slow Death on every Boomer’s door but quicker to the babies upon us, but that day, when The Quick Scream came, nothing remained for The Reaper the day Immortyz hit shelves, the day The Day that Death Left.
Time to do whatever my heart desires
Watch it saunter off into the sunset
No, shut up. We’re talking gas pedals now.
I don’t want a gas machine, I need a love bean
To grow a beanstalk, plant a bean
Why’s everyone in love with beans
Bouncy beans, jumping beans, jelly beans
Pinto beans, dreamy beans, the beans only beans could dream about
It’s not another dream, it’s the only one.
In the pool mists are rising a crunchy bunch of creamy beans
Black eyed, kidney, black, refried bean
Dipped, dried, soaking, crunching, munching bean
With dogs or gravy, burrito, soup, big poop bean
Lyma, lima, lonely, little, lovely bean
Interrupting this word vomit for some Live Coverage of some Developing Elements
People aren’t listening anymore and I mean it
When I say that the people in this room are the only people left.
Now I’ve signed some Non Disclosure Agreements, so you’ll understand when I don’t tell you why.
I can’t, I really want to, but I’m a man of my word, and I promised not to tell- BUT
I can safely tell you that everyone else is dead, your family, your friends, your enemies, your bosses or employees, even everyone you’ve ever known with a facebook profile, and then everyone else. Unless they’re here in this room now. And I know it’s one of you, I know you’re here. I haven’t seen your face but I know your smile. I can smell you out!
Tomorrow there is to be a eulogy for Tomorrow or Tomorrow or Tomorrow, or whatever Macbeth said.
Tom Arnold likes to complain about Tom Arnold a lot. Who could blame him? But Arnold Palmer, now there’s a mensch.
Palming Arnold Schwarzennager is really quite wonderful
I still can’t work it out in my head.
Hey, listen to the nonsense going on.
This is pure nonsense, straight from the source.
Nonsense in the flesh pouring here such liquided delights
Mouths gaping like the night
Puttered out such vicious illogic
Tried of fancies and noise
Whimsey litter, blank ideas
Bereft of sense or poise
Whiskey’d lips meet mine graces softly by the bar
Peering into the void
Whispers of babies laid to rest eyeing ennui
Gasping bravely girls and boys
Whizened elders grasping for self or soul in their minds
Their senses playing coy
I am the the the the the the the the the warm body of the stars forever away, in the heavens,
Exploding in your heart
The chaos of a doodle
The interference on The Screens
The doubt sewed when possessions lost, never stolen, never missing, just gone.
Get Gone, or get out.
(The Nonsense disappears in a flash, taking his chair in the audience as applause fills the air, sitting, so as not to disturb a person, puts on a chicken hat, never clucking, just watching, waiting for the show to go on, when all eyes shift to him, slowly and ever so carefully, curiously, they turn as they are want to do, just discoverin’ for themselves the man in the corner with a chicken hat on his head. Vandalinda on the camera finally starts to chime in
VanDalinda: That was good Michael, but we’re gonna need you to take it from your line “The Funny Thing about Windows”, we pretty much lost all the video after that but I think we got sound. Did we get sound Retro?
Retro: Yeah we got sound.
Vandalinda: We got sound, great. Great! We got sound. We’ll just take it from that line and start shooting.
Michael: But you’re supposed to be shooting, weren’t you just shooting?
Vandalinda: Rehearsing the shot, standard practice filmy stuff, you get the picture, had to line it up right, you know, frame it out, plan the picture, plan the picture, it’s the stuff of any great cinematographer. But great work-
Retro: Yeah, dude, great stuff, sounds great!
Michael: This is a live show. I just did my set.
Vandalinda: Yes, precisely, we’re at a live show at (insert name of theater) you’ve just come from a long day of napping and preparing for this shoot, they called your name and you came to the stage and performed Magic, Michael! Like any bachelorette party could dream of and you’re slightly stoned but you’re ready, you did those stretches and now you’re ready to give everything, Michael, give everything for the stage.
Michael: Wait seriously? You didn’t film any of this?
Retro: (looks at an audience member): he’s so method, staying in character, who does that?
Vandalinda: That’s right Michael, get angry with the camera man, he’s just doing his job, he can’t take anymore of this, but he’s got a wife and a family, and everyone thinks he’s kind of cool, most of the time, or so he likes to think. But you don’t care you’re a STAR! And nobody’s gonna get in your way, especially not some camera man who can only piss between the sheets and cry out at a vengeful god. Ok? That’s your motivation. Now, we’re gonna play back your audio for you so you won’t have to talk, just mouth all the words that you just said and we’ll be in great shape.
Retro: Dude you sound so fucking dope, Dude.
Michael: What the Fuck.
(Vandalinda turns to an audience member with the Clapboard)
Vandalinda: Nonsense Take 2 Scene 1 In which Dynaeris gets her boats
(Soldatious sings an aria, high, but within his range, operatic in style while the sound of planes flying and bombs dropping, never landing, fill the air. The room goes black with the projection of stars, very sparse and sporadic fill the room, A creature moves in, all in black, with a gapingmaw shining bright, laughing at it’s prey- the audience.”)
Let’s play a game.
(Lights come back on, Michael is in a full black costume with a puppet mouth in his hands, and speaks through the puppet)
Vandalinda: That’s a wrap people! Seriously, everyone, great job. Solid stuff. Ben, if you could show folks out in an orderly fashion. (Ben starts to usher people one at a time out of the theater into it’s halls.)