Friday, February 15, 2008

An Excerpt From...

An Excerpt From Something That I’m Not Really Working On That Isn’t Really About Death All That Much

a play by Larry Kunofsky


( A quick editors note: This is a short one act but is definitely a longer post than most we've had here. But it's not that that long. So read it all the way through. It's good stuff. Also I apologize about the weird formatting of the text. Blogspot is not the best text editor. )


(HEARNE is inside in his PJs and bathrobe. He hasn’t been out all day. He sits at a table with old newspapers and coffee.)

(BRAILEY comes inside from outside with things from the Bodega in a plastic bag. He places the bag on the table and stands around. They bith mostly face out without ever looking at each other at the same time, unless otherwise indicated.)

HEARNE

Y’know who died?

BRAILEY

No, who died?

HEARNE

Sting.

BRAILEY

Sting?

HEARNE

Sting is dead.

BRAILEY

Sting-Sting?

HEARNE

Yeah. Dead.

BRAILEY

Sting as in The Artist Formerly In The Band The Police Who Then Reunited With The Police Even Though No One Cared That They Reunited?

HEARNE

I don’t know how many other guys named Sting there are. Is that guy’s name, works at The Bodega, Sting? I mean, I don’t know Bodega Guy’s name, but my guess, as to whether or not Bodega Guy’s name is Sting, would be Probably Not.

BRAILEY

Sting is dead?

HEARNE

Sting is dead, yeah.

BRAILEY

Sting is not dead.

HEARNE

I know. It’s okay.

BRAILEY

What?

HEARNE

We all face these things--

BRAILEY

No, listen. Sting is not dead, really.

HEARNE

Denial is a legitimate stage--

BRAILEY

Look, you’re not listening,

HEARNE

Oh Death, Where is Thy Sting?

BRAILEY

Sting is not dead.

HEARNE

Seriously?

BRAILEY

Yes!

HEARNE

Why are you saying that?

(There is a pause as BRAILEY goes off and Googles Sting. The actor playing BRAILEY never actually leaves the stage, he just stands there and waits for the moment to pass.)

BRAILEY

I just Googled Sting and Sting is not dead.

HEARNE

There’s no Google confirmation on Sting’s demise?

BRAILEY

Quite the contrary, actually. In fact, Google confirms that Sting is still among the living.

HEARNE

Can Google prove this?

BRAILEY

There’s a Live Feed.

HEARNE

Oh. Live Feed.

BRAILEY

Correct. Of Sting. On Sting’s official website. Of Sting. Alive. Sting is currently going live, which would require him to be not dead.

HEARNE

(Filled with so many conflicting feelings.)

Well. Good for Sting. The Sting is Dead. Long Live The Sting.

BRAILEY

You seem disappointed.

HEARNE

I couldn’t be happier for Sting. And Trudy. And their nineteen children. And the other Police, regardless of whether or not anyone would care should they choose to reunite yet again. And all involved. I just… All these feelings. Flowing. So hard. To redirect. The flow.

BRAILEY

That’s only human.

HEARNE

That’s good of you to point out.

BRAILEY

Only, don’t go too far. In that. A man is officially not dead. Rejoice.


HEARNE

(Unable to completely shake the sadness.)

Huzzah, Sting.

BRAILEY

Who told you Sting was dead?

HEARNE

Paige.

BRAILEY

Where did Paige hear that Sting was dead?

HEARNE

Paige did not reveal her sources.

BRAILEY

Paige should be careful about what she says.

HEARNE

All these questions blazing through my mind. What would Sting’s death say about the health risks of extreme yoga? Would the gravestone say Gordon Sumner? Or would it actually say Sting? Which would be retarded.

BRAILEY

Y’know who Paige told me was an anti-semite?

HEARNE

Denzel Washington, I know, Paige told me.

BRAILEY

Exactly. So there you go.

HEARNE

What does Denzel Washington’s anti-semitism have to do with Sting not being dead?

BRAILEY

Denzel Washington is not an anti-semite.

HEARNE

I wouldn’t be so forgiving about the anti-semitic remarks that Paige has told us Denzel Washington has made, simply because of his vast and significant body of work.

BRAILEY

Denzel Washington has made no anti-semitic remarks. He is only as anti-semitic as Sting is dead.

HEARNE

How do you know Denzel Washington is not an anti-semite?

BRAILEY

How do you know that Denzel Washington is an anti-semite.

HEARNE

Paige told me.

BRAILEY

Aha.

HEARNE

It’s Paige’s word against Denzel Washington’s, as far as I’m concerned, and I don’t know Denzel Washington to have a conversation with him, despite my familiarity with his body of work, so I have to take Paige’s word for it, now don’t I?

BRAILEY

Paige’s sources are unreliable.

HEARNE

She said she saw it on the news.

BRAILEY

That’s what she told me initially, as well. However, when pressed further, Paige was forced to admit that all she truly remembered was that she heard Denzel Washington say something in an interview on E! in which he said, and I quote from Paige directly “something that probably was about the Jews, but not in a direct way, but it made me think of the Jews, which sounded, I think, really not good.”

HEARNE

Why that’s not very much of a source at all.

BRAILEY

Exactly my point.

HEARNE

I’m relieved. I admire the body of Denzel Washington’s work deeply, because of its vastness and significance. My admiration for his body of work would be severely tainted by his now clearly nonexistent anti-semitism. Nevertheless, would that his nonexistent anti-semitism were to actually exist, I would mourn that loss with great lamentation, not unlike my earlier mourning of Sting.

BRAILEY

Denzel Washington is neither an anti-semite nor dead.

HEARNE

Have these pronouncements of yours been confirmed, in the final analysis?

(There is a pause as BRAILEY goes off and Googles Denzel Washington. The actor playing BRAILEY never actually leaves the stage, he just stands there and waits for the moment to pass.)

BRAILEY

I Googled Denzel Washington and no word exists regarding his death.

HEARNE

Surely Google would report such a tremendous loss to the African-American and Arts and Entertainment communities. And bravo to great talents such as Denzel Washington’s for making such communities so far from mutually exclusive.

BRAILEY

As far as someone being an anti-semite, I believe that here in the United States, a person is innocent until proven an anti-semite. I don’t know what they do over in the State of Israel.

HEARNE

Now that will be just about enough of your anti-Zionist remarks out of you.

BRAILEY

I have yet to utter an anti-Zionist remark.

HEARNE

Well are you a Zionist?

BRAILEY

I’m not an anti-Zionist.

HEARNE

Well you’re either for us or against us.

BRAILEY

That may very well be part of the problem.

HEARNE

Perhaps we should refrain from the political altogether.

BRAILEY

Agreed.

HEARNE

We should put aside our differences in this time of mourning.

BRAILEY

No one has died. Google was very specific.

HEARNE

Know who’s dead?

BRAILEY

No, who’s dead?

HEARNE

Oh. I thought you were an authority on Dead.

BRAILEY

No. I just try… to follow… reality.

HEARNE

Is Lee Marvin dead?

BRAILEY

Yes, Lee Marvin is dead.

HEARNE

I saw Lee Marvin on a bicycle riding down the street just the other day.

BRAILEY

Well you didn’t.

HEARNE

I could swear that I had.

BRAILEY

It must have been a Lee Marvin look-alike.

HEARNE

Could there possibly be much of a market for such a profession?

BRAILEY

I wasn’t suggesting that Man On Bike did it for a living.

HEARNE

Lee Marvin and his bicycle was this close to me. I could swear it. He feels that close right now. Perhaps this is how we always feel when we lose someone. On the one hand, they’re gone. On the other, they might just as well whiz by on a bicycle.

BRAILEY

Do you really feel that you, yourself, have lost someone in Lee Marvin?

HEARNE

Yes. We have, obviously. We, as a Culture. But I have, as well. I, as an individual. Yes. He wasn’t just a tough guy, y’know. He was underrated. And there’s something about his work in The Dirty Dozen that’s quite touching.

BRAILEY (Flippant.)

I’m sorry for your loss.

HEARNE

You’ve always been flippant about grief.

BRAILEY

I’ve never been flippant about grief. I’m flippant about what you call grief because what you call grief is something else and that something else is profoundly less substantial than grief.

HEARNE (Pain.)

You don’t know.

BRAILEY

You’ve never lost anyone.

HEARNE

You don’t know.

BRAILEY

You don’t even know what it’s like to lose someone.

HEARNE

You don’t know.

BRAILEY

Excuse me. I know what it’s like to lose someone. Over and over again. Sometimes, it seems, without cease. And I know when I know someone who knows what it’s like to lose someone. I can spot someone who knows a mile away. There’s a light around them. A dark light. It doesn’t illuminate, it’s a light that casts everything in shadow. A dark light that screams. It doesn’t glow, it screams, and I can hear it. I can hear it and see it both. And you, sir, have no glow, have no scream about you. I see or hear nothing from you. There is no light. You, sir, have never known loss. You have never lost anyone in your life and you don’t know what it’s like.

HEARNE

You don’t know! You don’t know! You don’t know!!! YOU DON’T KNOW!!!!

(Silence. There is a stare-down.)

BRAILEY

Okay. Listen. Stop saying that. Seriously.

(Silence. Staring, Face to Face.)

(PAIGE comes inside from outside. They barely acknowledge her, but that’s okay.)

PAIGE

Y’know who’s dead?

HEARNE

No, who’s dead?

BRAILEY

Paige, now is not a good time.

PAIGE

When is it ever a good time for Death?

HEARNE

Actually, Paige, Brailey’s kind of right.

PAIGE

Oh, Hearne, does that mean you boys are getting along? How good.

HEARNE

Paige.

PAIGE

Even in times of Death comes good.

BRAILEY

Paige, seriously. Not now.

PAIGE

I’m sure Fran Drescher said Not Now to Death. But y’know what? Death’s response to Death was “’Now is not a good time,’ my Deathly Ass, yo. And now, Fran Drescher,” continued Death, “You dead, byotch.”

BRAILEY

Fran Drescher is dead?

PAIGE

Fran Drescher is dead.

HEARNE (Processing.)

Fran Drescher is dead.

BRAILEY

Fran Drescher is not dead.

PAIGE

(When PAIGE comforts others, she comforts herself.)

That’s how I feel.

BRAILEY

That’s not how I feel, I’m just stating a fact.

HEARNE (Crushed.)

Not Fran Drescher.

BRAILEY

No.

PAIGE

I know.

HEARNE

Not The Nanny.

PAIGE

I know.

BRAILEY

No.

PAIGE

I know.

BRAILEY

No. Seriously.

PAIGE

We all feel that way

BRAILEY

Fran Drescher is not dead.

PAIGE

Would that that were true.

BRAILEY

It is true.

HEARNE

I can still hear her strident whiny annoying screeches on the wind.

PAIGE

May the wind carry her screechings in our hearts anon.

(There is a pause as BRAILEY goes off and Googles Fran Drescher. The actor playing BRAILEY never actually leaves the stage, he just stands there and waits for the moment to pass.)

BRAILEY

I Googled Fran Drescher. She’s not dead.

PAIGE

Is there a website that lists all the people who are not dead? Because there are so many people to think of to put on that list that it must be very difficult to update once you have to take someone off that list so if that’s your source, I’m not sure that your source is accurate.

BRAILEY

Fran Drescher is on a live feed.

PAIGE

Really? A live feed.

BRAILEY

Yes, really, a live feed.

HEARNE

Well. A live feed.

BRAILEY

Sting has a live feed on his official website and his official website is broadcasting a live concert that Sting, who is not dead, is currently giving. And Fran Drescher is at the concert. And Denzel Washington, who is not an anti-semite, is sitting next to Fran Drescher. This is all happening right now. Live. And not one dead among them.

PAIGE

I wonder if Fran Drescher and Denzel Washington are dating.

HEARNE

I know that Fran Drescher would never sit next to an anti-semite, so if further proof of Denzel Washington’s humanity were needed--

BRAILEY

It’s not.

PAIGE

Anyway. Hi, Brailey.

BRAILEY

Hi, Paige.

PAIGE

How are you, Hearne?

HEARNE

I’m having a rough time processing.

PAIGE

I know.

BRAILEY

Processing what.

HEARNE

All this Death.

BRAILEY

But no one has died.

HEARNE

It’s still very painful for me. And I’m not talking to you.

PAIGE

Are you boys fighting again?

HEARNE

He said I don’t know what it’s like to lose someone. He said I’ve never even lost anyone ever.

PAIGE

Y’know, a little compassion goes a long way. Y’know?

HEARNE

No, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know, he has no idea, it’s the furthest idea from his mind.

PAIGE

I know, Hearne, I know.

HEARNE

I know that Sting and Fran Drescher are not dead. And that Denzel Washington is not an anti-semite. But I caught a glimpse of the ache that will appear from deep inside me when we as People and as a Culture and I as an individual will lose them. And to think that Denzel Washington could have died before he was cleared of all accusations, I shudder. At the very thought.

PAIGE

(She rushes to HEARNE’s aid. She is Here For Him.)

Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Pookey, I know. Oh.

(Silence.)

BRAILEY

I need new friends.

(Silence.)

PAIGE

What does that mean.

HEARNE

I know what he means. We all need more than we have. We could all use extra friends. Especially in time of need.

BRAILEY

That’s not what I mean. I don’t want more friends. I wouldn’t turn down more friends if my original friends were good. But my current friends are no good, so I don’t want more friends, I want new friends to replace my old friends because I need to get rid of my old friends because my old friends are no good. I’m saying I’m tired of you. I’m saying I’ve had enough of you.

HEARNE

Are you saying you’re renouncing our friendship.

BRAILEY

I am. Yes. I’m sorry if that hurts you, I don’t want to hurt you, but I’d hurt myself if I didn’t renounce you because you’re much too much of an idiot for me to value as a friend, so that is what I’m saying, yes.

(BRAILEY is about to leave. For good.)

HEARNE

Then say it. Then say it, then.

(BRAILEY delays his own departure in order to settle this.)

BRAILEY

Okay. You’re an idiot.

HEARNE

No.

BRAILEY

Yes. You are an idiot.

HEARNE

That’s not what I want you to say.

BRAILEY

I don’t blame you for feeling that way.

HEARNE

Say you renounce me. Look me in the eye and say it.

(BRAILEY and HEARNE confront each other Face to Face.)

BRAILEY

I. Renounce. You.

PAIGE

(This is all too, too much.)

Oh. Oh. Oh.

(Silence.)

BRAILEY

Are we done. I’d like to leave now.

HEARNE

No, we’re not done.

BRAILEY

Okay, then. Say what you need to say so that we can be done.

(BRAILEY and HEARNE confront each other Face to Face.)

HEARNE

I renounce you!

BRAILEY

Okay. Bye.

HEARNE

No. Wait.

BRAILEY

Go ahead.

(BRAILEY and HEARNE confront each other Face to Face.)

HEARNE

You’re Dead To Me.

PAIGE (Sad.)

Oh.

BRAILEY

Goodbye.

HEARNE

Am I Dead To You?

BRAILEY

No.

HEARNE

Because you’re Dead To Me.

BRAILEY

If you say so.

HEARNE

Why don’t you take your being Dead To Me seriously.

BRAILEY

Because it’s a very stupid concept. I’m freaking alive. Genius. Y’know who’se Dead To Me? People who have Actually Died.

HEARNE

I see.

BRAILEY

I still renounce you, though.

HEARNE (Sadly.)

Okay.

BRAILEY

(Not unkindly.)

Goodbye.

(BRAILEY turns again to go.)

PAIGE

Goodbye, Brailey.

BRAILEY

Bye, Paige.

PAIGE

Do you renounce me, too.

BRAILEY

Nah. I don’t really think of you that much as it is.

(BRAILEY braces for leaving the inside environs. He goes outside. He exits. He is gone.)

PAIGE

Well how do ya like that. That douche wouldn’t even renounce me. That’s really going too far.

HEARNE

Y’know who’s dead?

PAIGE

No, Pookey, who’s dead?

HEARNE

We are.

PAIGE

We as People? We as a Society? We as a Society? Or we All Who Existence Surveys.

HEARNE

We as individuals. You’re dead. I’m dead.

PAIGE

Dead To Him?

HEARNE

No. Dead To Us. Dead to Each Other. Dead To Ourselves. Dead. Dead, dead.

PAIGE

Oh.

(Silence.)

But.

(Silence.)

Oh.

(Silence.)

Yes.

(Silence.)

Yes.

(Silence.)

Yes.

(Silence.)

Yes.

Yes.

(Silence.)

We are.

(Silence.)

We are dead.

(Silence.)

Yes.

(Will they laugh or cry at this?)

(Each waits for the other to laugh or to cry first.)

(They will keep waiting this way until they die.)

(There is darkness everywhere.)

(There is no light anywhere in the whole wide world.)

(End of play.)

Monday, February 11, 2008

Breuckelen

by Chris Van Strander


An excerpt from his play, Breuckelen.

A dive-y Brooklyn watering hole. Today.

BATHTUB GIN, a 20s-era flapper, materializes and addresses everyone present.

BATHTUB GIN
Before you now: the sweetheart of every hood an’ trouble boy from here to Sheepshead Bay. Goes a little somethin’ like this:

Born: Jersey City—third ward. Pops ran rum—speedboats—he’d load, I’d pilot. Hittin’ on all sixes too, ‘til comin’ back—full load, Irish whisky, musta hit some jetsam ‘cuz BOOM, I’m thrown, SPLASH, (makes the sound of someone being run over by a speedboat), rolls right over me. Thought that was the big one for sure. Balled up a chunk-a my noggin, croaker said. Plate in here now. (her head)

So: so long rumrunning, hello Coney, little brick houses an’ homebrewing gin for the local jaspers. Juniper juice, glycerine—duck soup. ‘Til one night I’m lightin’ up a gasper an’ KERBLAM, whole still up n’ explodes. Thought that really was the big one. Totally blind now, this eye.

Midsta this don’tcha know I find love. Billy Cloud—Mohawk Indian—cake-eater—rivet man—know what I mean? Flopped down on Schermerhorn. Barclay Vesey Building he was buildin’. Went to visit, took me up, peep the view, gust a’ wind, fell right off. 20 stories. Now that really shoulda been the big one. Came down like a cat, lost both feet. (indicates her feet) American walnut, buster.

Sued his ass, tribe’s, whatever, used the dough to open my very own joint—right here, 209 Bedford. First broad in all Williamsburg. Local degos caught wind: “Our turf—we get a quarter stake.” Told ‘em go shit on a $3 bible. Wrong number. Danced me by my tongue off Williamsburg Bridge. Really thought that’d be the big one. But my right guy Reilly got me. Lost half my tongue and all power a’ smell.

But my club: Chez Mausoleum (this was a funeral parlor then). “Hey-a, swells! Come in an’ get ossified!” Served outta hollowed-out skulls. This whole wall was craniums, like those basements in Rome. Reilly just turned up one day with a truckful—I know better’n to ask. My hostesses: all refugee geishas. My chorus girls: Juilliard-trained. My waiters: tangoed. Jumpin’ist band in Brooklyn too: Sozzle Tom And His Incredibly Generous Orchestra. ‘Least 20 cocktails started here: the Pale Gringo; the Moister Looser; the CafĂ© Scranton. Just had to know the code word.

(She picks a single listener she’s addressing and whispers “cumquat” into his/her ear.)

Swells who got scrooched in this room, can’t even tell ya. Once when we got raided? A certain aging It girl whose career nosedived after the talkies was here as the fuck date of a certain bisexual Arabian millionaire, and they just happened to be seated nexta a certain mid-level cabinet member who was here with his secret lover, a certain Dodger third baseman—and they all ended up in the john hittin’ the pipe with a certain hatchetman in the Fanelli Massacre. Cops bust in—Brooklyn lightning everywhere. Some flatfoot sonofabitch gets all in a lather, thinks it’s the most hilarious thing in the world to start shootin’ his piece off next to my noggin. If I’d heard anything, woulda been me tellin’ myself “well, this’s the big one.” Totally deaf now, this ear.

Only thing gummed me up worse n’ that was the graft. Grand a month: DA, feds. Futzed around with more beat cops than your mother. It was me with the Chief that night. They say it was the dark but the straight dope is we’re screaming down 9th in his breezer, hopped up outta our minds, I start giving him a handjob for the ages when he swerves us right off the pier and in the drink. Now you tell me why that wasn’t the big one. Said so long to both hands in that. (indicates her gloved hands) American walnut, buster.

What’ll I ever do with myself once all this ends.

Home that night, exhausted, put on some Bix, cuppa tea, sit down… and that’s it. Just like that. Sitting down. In my sleep. In a chair.

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

When is a Clock

by Matthew Freeman


A scene from his as yet unfinished play called (for now) When is a Clock.

COP

Crime statistics. The average person is married twice, and the average marriage contains seven steps, and the average marriage has around two children and the average child of those marriages spend an average of four hours watching two to four television programs on five nights a week. More than half of that time is spent watching violent crime, and of the twelve courtroom dramas currently dominating the networks prime time slots, they watch 276 variations of criminal actions, based on a 23 episode season. That is only counting the central act of criminality within the drama, not counting ethical lapses or more minor crimes in support of, or to dispel, the central crime in question.

(pause)

When, when, when you expose one half of one half of all Americans to four hours of around three hundred murders, raped, kidnappings and assaults over the course of a season of television, you're going to create precisely, and we have this figure available on our website, around 500,000 potential major felons a night, of which exactly 45,678 will commit crimes within ten years of right now. That is the crime that is directly pulled from national data on the citizenry that watches television regularly.

(pause)

How should we find your wife? With all this happening just because of television?

(pause)

What about red tape and just overall numbers? Every second, 200 babies die in this county alone. 200 babies. Die. In this county alone. Three hundred people lose watches every ten minutes in 38 states. There are 20 different versions of the law that protects three different ethnicities from twelve kinds of discriminatory lending practices. Food poisoning, from nearly 600 controlled substances, just hit the digestive system of two women. As we spoke. Their names are Janet and Janet. Both of them named Janet. What are the odds? Actually, very, very good, if you consider how improbable a life-sustaining atmosphere even is. 89 times, in the course of just walking in this door, I envisioned a crime committed against me by a person that worked in an orphanage when I was only nine. Why did I see that in my mind so often? Biological signals sent from my brain, sense-memory. 91 times now. It just keeps happening. That person was never arrested, but was killed. You can't prove how. How could you? There's just too much to keep track of.

(pause)

Over the course of the last month, it was discovered that people's names were being spelled in a wantonly confusing way but a large number of ethnic minorities in order to confound governmental databases. You think it's easy to track people by way of their social security number? Of course you'd think so. That's because you don't know that there are two million people in this country whose social security number is precisely the same as two million other people. How do you think that affects their records when they die? It's not pretty. Of course it's not pretty. In fact, despite what you may believe, according to Federal Databases, because of this Social Security glitch, more than half of those four million people are deceased. 14 million Mexicans just entered this country. 15 million. 16 million. All without social security numbers, most of them less than 5 feet 5 inches tall. How are we going to find them and bury them? Do we just toss them in the Pacific Ocean? No, no we don't. That's how we hope to fuel agriculture. But there are so, so many. So many.

(pause)

Where is your wife? Tennessee?

GORDON

Pennsylvania.

COP

How, for fuck's sake, can you be so sure?


read matthew's blog here