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lauraxxtennant · 8 years ago

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don juan in soho

Review & lots of spoilers below

Ok. So, you guys know by now that I was, let’s say, cautious about several aspects of this play prior to seeing it.

I was completely turned around on one of those things, though, and this was the inclusion of music/dance numbers and an actual. Duet. Between dt and adrian. This duet was the highlight of my night. I know!!! That’s bonkers!!! I thought I was going to find this the most embarrassing moment of my life, and yet!!!!!

Let me be clear, I love musicals. I love plays. I don’t usually find it beneficial to the material when a play tries to shoehorn in a musical number. I usually think it’s best for straight plays to leave the musicals down the road to their singing and dancing, and just act the damn thing. Added to this, the fact that david tennant is clearly desperate to be in a musical lmao made me think, ‘oh god, this is gonna be a disaster, he can’t sing, it’s gonna be embarrassing.’ HOWEVER. I fully admit that he sounded good tonight. Really really good. DJ & Stan basically get stoned and sing a (brief, TOO BRIEF) semi-romantic duet under the stars at the end of act one. It’s the best point in the play, and no one is more surprised by this than me.

There’s another brief musical number in the play by the cast (not including dt) where you see a couple of real life, floppy-haired teenage dt photos projected in the background (none that we haven’t seen before.) I also really liked the tiny snippets of music from the opera Don Giovanni, which gave me the shivers. I feel like this could’ve been used to greater effect actually; if the ~moment of revelation~ and the ending of the play were stronger, bringing in those strains of Mozart could’ve had a greater impact, really set a nice tone of doom about the place. But perhaps there were practical limitations on how much they could use of that music anyway; this play is, after all, not the opera Don Giovanni.

Before seeing the show, I was also dubious about what I��d heard re: the staging. It’s quite a sparse set, which I think is fine actually, and there’s an absolutely ridiculous moment where david tennant flies into the air on a rickshaw (yes, really) which clearly made him very happy so i can take that all in good fun lol. Therefore, the only gripe I have about the staging has to do with the whole statue-coming-alive thing (yeah...really.) More on that later, though.

The third thing I didn’t think I was gonna like but did, was the hospital scene. DJ receives a blowjob from Lottie (played by Dominique Moore, who is very funny in the scene preceding this where she actually gets to speak) whilst chatting up the bride (or, ‘the fox’ as DJ charmingly calls her...) whose wedding reception he has just ruined in his pursuit of her. The logistics of it are frankly ridiculous - nobody could get away with that in a hospital waiting room lmao, blanket covering the action or not. There’s a large bag sitting on the seat between him and the bride, hiding Lottie’s ministrations from her, but the rest of the people in the room can see what’s going on. So it’s bonkers. But it’s also hilarious. I’m incredibly impressed that david tennant managed to offer up such a variety of expressions over the course of several minutes, whilst also having a conversation with the bride. Several times you think, ok, he must be nearly done, this is the orgasm face...but nope, he keeps right on going, and he doesn’t even blush. Stellar receiving-blowjob acting right there. This is the funniest part of the play, imo.

As always, dt’s comic timing is great. But I think he mines more laughs through his delivery and physical comedy than the writing actually offers him. He deserves much better material. This play is a comedy but I get the impression it thinks it’s funnier than it is, or at least it thinks it’s more quick-witted and worldly than it is. Admittedly this comes down to personal taste as much as anything. I did laugh aloud in places, but there were several times I heard someone a few rows back really, properly laughing at something I considered pretty tepid on the humour front tbh.

As I mentioned in my summary earlier, the staggering amount of alliteration in this play nearly made me lose my mind. Once you notice something like that - something repetitious in someone’s writing - it is so hard to tune it out. I know this sounds like a very nit-picky, minor thing, but it was honestly so irritating!! The line that’s been thrown about a lot in the promo stuff/reviews, ‘Satan in a suit from Savile Row,’ is truly just the start; that line is said by Stan, but DJ gets most of the excruciating stuff, including a dozen or so lines informing us that DJ cannot possibly be racist because he’d do it with, among other alliterative ladies, ‘a babe in a Burka.’

Talking of racism. There’s a terrible line about how DJ wants to fly to Alaska to have sex with a ‘furry little eskimo,’ which I didn’t find particularly pleasant or funny.

The supporting cast is very non-white for a West End show, so kudos to the casting director for that, but it is unfortunate that DJ’s brother-in-law, who I have seen described in a review as a ‘black thug’ (!!!) is the maker of DJ’s demise.

There’s also a really tasteless scene where DJ is interacting with a homeless Muslim man. This is the scene I was referring to when I said something turned my stomach. He dangles his £6k watch in front of his face and tells him he can have it if he blasphemes Allah. I’m aware this is a direct parallel to a scene in Moliere’s Don Juan (wherein he offers a coin to a beggar on the proviso the beggar concedes to blaspheme; interestingly this scene was removed from performances at the time.) But the execution of this scene is just so tasteless and unpleasant. Oh, and also dt imitates the Muslim man’s accent at one point. Grim.

Though DJ, in his monologue near the end of the play, riles against hypocrisy, he is so self-righteous in this scene that it’s almost unbearable; he goes on and on about how Allah hasn’t done anything for this homeless man, so why can’t he insult him (at first he wants him to call Allah a cunt, then he de-escalates to ‘twerp,’ neither of which the man does. Thankfully DJ throws him the watch anyway, ‘because of his integrity.’ But that this rich, vile, atheist man could shout in this other guy’s face about his religion...it’s horrible. Stan agrees, so at least our ~moral compass within the play (dubious) is on the audience’s side. But still, it’s very uncomfortable to watch.

For me, this was the only shocking moment in the play. Though this play is billed as being filthy and shocking, there is nothing inherently shocking or controversial about a fictional portrayal of a womanising, amoral, cynical, privileged white male with an excessive sexual appetite, penchant for prostitutes, and evidently an addiction to drugs and/or drink. Those characters are, let’s face it, ten a penny in literature, on stage, and on screen. DJ’s liberal use of the word ‘cunt’ might shock some in the audience, granted, but I think this play thinks it’s more shocking that it is. The language in the play is clearly something dt relishes getting to perform, and I am not offended by swearing at all, and honestly quite like hearing him going for it (apart from that one time he calls a prostitute ‘fuckface,’ not that she seems to mind.) But it’s sort of a bit laughable, that lines like ��I’m just a cunt with an eye for one,’ are trying so hard to provoke laughter and/or shock, when...it’s just not even that great a line? A lot of the ‘funny’ lines are phrased pretty awkwardly tbh.

Other absurd moments:

DJ declaring himself a radical feminist. (this is funny because aside from Marber’s use of that word in this one instance, the rest of the play seems to take place in a contemporary world where feminism never happened.)

The statue coming alive. I hated this lmao. I mean. It’s all hallucinatory/figurative I guess (i hope??) because it’s his own voice bellowing from the statue that DJ hears, foretelling his impending doom and indicating how much he despises/fears himself, but the surrealness of the statue moving about and pedalling him into the air on a rickshaw, it’s just...it’s embarrassing

‘I’m not a rapist, I don’t grab pussy!’ getting a huge laugh. a) the bar is truly low when you have to say at least the dude is not a rapist, b) i hate donald trump as much as anyone but this is one of those poorly-phrased lines i mentioned that aren’t actually very funny. It felt a bit shoehorned in tbh.

Elvira, DJ’s wife, is an oddly-conceived character. I understand that reflecting the convent-girl origins of this character in the modern day was gonna be tricky, but the modern-day equivalent Marber comes up with is not particularly believable. Rather than a nun he’s lured away from the convent to marry/take the virginity of, as in Moliere’s play, in this play Elvira is a charity worker who, after a two-year pursuit, DJ has finally persuaded to marry him. The reasons he wanted to marry her are the same as in the original: she’s a virgin, and won’t sleep with him before marriage. Once they’ve had their honeymoon, he’s off to bed Croatian supermodels, done with her now that he’s finally had sex with her.

The suspension of disbelief comes in twofold: firstly, we have to accept that Stan and Elvira’s brother throwing around the words ‘she was an innocent’ and ‘she was pure’ (and the implication that she has now been corrupted) are likely phrases to be said these days. I mean, come off it. Secondly, Elvira’s speech - about DJ being terrible but at least he opened her up to physical pleasure! At least he showed her how magnificent all these filthy fantasies she didn’t know she had could be! She won’t be with him now she knows what he’s really like but she still loves him and always will! - all of that nonsense, it just didn’t ring true. Especially as we come into their relationship just as they are back from their honeymoon and he’s sleeping with someone else, so we don’t even get to see evidence of how he charmed her in the first place (she references that he was sweet and kind and acted so in love, but we never see these traits in DJ at all.) The actress playing Elvira, Danielle Vitalis, didn’t give a particularly strong performance imo, but I honestly don’t know how much of that was really her fault, given the ridiculous lines she had to say.

The final thing that rubbed me up the wrong way was the monologue near the end. The disdain for millennials from middle-aged male writers made a jump from online articles to stage with this one, or, if not targetted at that generation specifically this time, then at least at this digital day and age we currently live in. It elicited rapturous applause from the audience, and yeah, the ‘welcome to my vlog; today i bought a plum’ line was amusingly delivered, but I have no time for a character who is morally bankrupt claiming the moral high ground simply because he finds selfie/social media culture undignified and lacking in class. I might agree with him on his comments on the value of privacy, but this dude is shamelessly shagging his way through Soho (christ, I’ve caught Marber’s alliteration bug) and so I think his sermon on hypocrisy is a little tone deaf.

Are we expected to equate the unapologetic, relentless pursuit of ‘skirt, or occasionally, trouser’ with a life lived to the full, a life celebrating ‘free will and answering to nobody?’ It’d be one thing if DJ genuinely loved women, as in loved in the way dt’s Casanova loved women; a seducer and a bit of a cad, sure, but one who at least respected and admired rather than objectified women. But DJ generally seems to have contempt for them bubbling under the surface, and in any case, the only reason he is able to pursue this kind of life - one sexual dalliance to the next, a snort of cocaine here, a cigarette and a scotch there - is because his father is rich and can fund such an elite lifestyle. There’s also your typical middle-aged male writer cynicism about love dressed up as a philosophical, salient point about the unnaturalness of monogamy as opposed to the natural state of man being to ‘hunt his prey.’ Marber, mate - you ain’t saying anything new, here. Writers just like you wheel out this faux-philosophy about the human condition more times than I can count, and all it ever really tells me is that you wish you had the guilt-free option to have an affair yourself.

I say all this because it’s quite hard for me to decipher what Marber really wants us to take from this play. DJ is warned of his reckoning, promptly feigns contrition to ensure his father doesn’t cut him off, but feels no actual guilt or compulsion to change his ways. He then eventually gets his comeuppance, and Stan regularly tells us how despicable he is, but I still get the impression that, in spite of Stan’s warning, ‘please don’t be charmed, he’s not a loveable rogue,’ that’s exactly what’s expected of us. Indeed, Stan says at one point ‘just as we were starting to warm up to him!’ (I think after the homeless man scene.) But I…..was never charmed. Not even for a second. I don’t think anyone could be? Honestly? Because he clearly is despicable, he has no compassion, is selfish to the extreme, has received all the luxury and privilege being the heir to an earldom affords him, with none of the responsibility, has never worked a day in his life, and has only limited affection for even the one person closest to him (Stan, an employee he never pays and treats abominably.) As dt has postulated in interviews, DJ is a sociopath. And yet we are subjected to a lecture from him on the indignity of a world of selfies and vlogs and hypocrisy, as though those things, vainglorious though they can sometimes be, are more sinister and morally corrupt than his objectification and dismissal of every woman he comes across. It’s a bit hard to swallow, frankly.

DJ has great hair, tailored suits, tiny red pants, and the innumerable benefits afforded to him by virtue of being played by david tennant. But he’s never particularly charming. We never see anything of the kindness and gentleness that so charmed Elvira into marrying him. We never really see him seduce anyone, aside from Lottie (this seduction is essentially him groping her boobs in the guise of being a ‘specialist doctor,’ complimenting her assets and telling her she shouldn’t change herself in any way [she’d mentioned she wanted a boob job]) and the only other time we see him in a sexual situation is with four prostitutes, and he has evidently paid for their company. But we hear he has had sex with three different women a day for the last 25 years, and that he is ‘extremely fuckable.’ I mean, yes, to look at him, clearly sexy af. Yet I feel there was a twinkle in the eye missing for anyone to actually be compelled to go for it with him; for comparison, rather than returning to dt’s Casanova again, I’m now thinking about Tom Ellis in Lucifer, who does play a loveable rogue, and the contrast is pretty clear.

And I bring this up because I’m left here thinking: if there’s nothing really interesting about DJ, if he really is just one-dimensional, and selfish, a destructive man with delusions of self-importance, who’d ‘fuck a hole in the ozone layer’ if he could, then....why? Why are we interested in this man? Would we sit there and watch two hours of a female character doing the same thing? Would anyone even bother writing that, let alone consider producing it? I don’t think they would.

It’s an entertaining play because dt and adrian breathe humour into a script that is, occasionally, lifeless. They can’t save every line, but their chemistry is great and their relish for these parts is evident. The play isn’t as shocking or as funny or even as filthy as you’d expect, and I don’t think it taps into the moral quagmire it thinks it does; honestly, it’s pretty standard stuff. I still don’t know quite what Marber’s going for. Of course, there doesn’t necessarily need to be a ‘message’ or a twist or a social commentary to be figured out within a production. But I think if you’re adapting something that plays with the idea of a libertine repenting through fear of death/hell, and if you feel that won’t resonate in a contemporary setting, then the stakes ought to be raised in another way. The spectre of impending doom looming over him is pretty lacklustre, and, given that DJ would rather die as he lived than profess a simple apology to save himself, the ending isn’t very evocative at all - it’s actually a bit dull.

Best bits:

DJ & Stan’s duet

dt’s hair

stan’s endless exasperation at DJ’s antics

the hospital scene

the tight blue suit

dt looking so happy flying overhead in a rickshaw (despite the ridiculous statue driving it)

stan’s last few lines

i cannot stress this enough: dt looked super hot

Worst bits:

the homeless man scene

the patronising tirade against this vain new world

the elvira plot

the statue coming alive and foretelling his doom a la marley’s ghost in a christmas carol

the lacklustre ending

3/5 stars, could’ve been a lot better. with a different writer. and plot. 😂

#don juan in soho #laura's theatre adventures #ok exactly none of you really want a three thousand word review of this play lmao #but that's what i have provided #goodnighttttttttt

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marcusssanderson · 6 years ago

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50 Integrity Quotes on Leading by Example all the Time

Our latest collection of integrity quotes that will inspire you to have a moral compass that doesn’t waver.

Integrity can be described as “the quality of being honest and having strong moral principles, or moral uprightness.”

It is the inner sense of being complete that comes from attributes like honesty and consistency of character. When one has integrity, their actions are in synch with the values, beliefs, and principles they claim to hold.

As these integrity quotes will show, it is one of the most important qualities you can nurture that will enhance every aspect of your life. Without integrity, it’s almost impossible to have a successful and happy life.

Although integrity is a vital aspect of societies and cultures, it is also one of the most misunderstood and misused words. We hear the word “integrity” almost daily but not many people take the time to think about it.

No one is born with integrity – or without it. It’s a behavior-based virtue that anyone can develop over time. You can choose to show more integrity in your life by following your moral or ethical convictions and doing the right thing in all circumstances.

To inspire you to have a moral compass that doesn’t waver, here are some inspirational, wise, and powerful integrity quotes, integrity sayings, and integrity proverbs, collected from a variety of sources over the years. Enjoy!

Integrity quotes on leading by example all the time

1.) The greatness of a man is not in how much wealth he acquires, but in his integrity and his ability to affect those around him positively. – Bob Marley

2.) Integrity is the essence of everything successful. – R. Buckminster Fuller

3.) If you have integrity, nothing else matters. If you don’t have integrity, nothing else matters. – Harvey Mackay

4.) It is true that integrity alone won’t make you a leader, but without integrity you will never be one. – Zig Ziglar

5.) “There is no higher value in our society than integrity.” – Arlen Specter

6.) Live so that when your children think of fairness, caring, and integrity, they think of you.— H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

7.) The integrity of men is to be measured by their conduct, not by their professions.– Junius

8.) “Integrity is the most valuable and respected quality of leadership. Always keep your word.” — Brian Tracy

9.) “Integrity is the ability to stand by an idea.” ― Ayn Rand

10.) “Everyone makes mistakes, but only a person with integrity owns up to them.” — Nicole Guillaume

Integrity quotes to always do the right thing

11.) “With integrity, you have nothing to fear, since you have nothing to hide. With integrity, you will do the right thing, so you will have no guilt.” – Zig Ziglar

12.) Real integrity is doing the right thing, knowing that nobody’s going to know whether you did it or not. – Oprah Winfrey

13.) “Integrity is doing the right thing, even when no one is watching.” – C.S. Lewis

14.) “Have the courage to say no. Have the courage to face the truth. Do the right thing because it is right. These are the magic keys to living your life with integrity.” – W. Clement Stone

15.) “Honor your commitments with integrity.” – Les Brown

16.) “In the end you should always do the right thing even if it’s hard.” ― Nicholas Sparks

17.) “If it is not right do not do it; if it is not true do not say it.” ― Marcus Aurelius

18.) “Integrity is doing the right thing when nobody’s watching, and doing as you say you would do.” ― Roy T. Bennett

19.) “A single lie destroys a whole reputation of integrity.” — Baltasar Gracian

20.) “Integrity is telling myself the truth. And honesty is telling the truth to other people.” ― Spencer Johnson

Integrity quotes to become the perfect role model

21.) The supreme quality for leadership is unquestionably integrity. Without it, no real success is possible, no matter whether it is on a section gang, a football field, in an army, or in an office. – Dwight D. Eisenhower

22.) “Integrity is making sure that the things you say and the things you do are in alignment.”- Katrina Mayer

23.) People of integrity and honesty not only practice what they preach, they are what they preach.— David A. Bednar

24.) “If you value your integrity, then be prepared to take a beating from those who have none.” — Lars Lau Thygesen

25.) “The supreme quality for leadership is integrity.” — Dwight D. Eisenhower

26.) “If we believe a thing to be bad, and if we have a right to prevent it, it is our duty to try to prevent it and damn the consequences.”— Lord Milner

27.) “It takes less time to do a thing right than to explain why you did it wrong.”— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

28.) “Always do right. This will gratify some people and astonish the rest.”— Mark Twain

29.) Develop your character so that you are a person of integrity. – Peter Cain

30.) “Never do anything that you can’t admit doing, because if you are that ashamed of whatever it is, it’s probably wrong.” ― Ashly Lorenzana

Integrity quotes to remind of the importance of this virtue

31.) We learned about honesty and integrity – that the truth matters… that you don’t take shortcuts or play by your own set of rules… and success doesn’t count unless you earn it fair and square.— Michelle Obama

32.) A life lived with integrity – even if it lacks the trappings of fame and fortune is a shining star in whose light others may follow in the years to come.— Denis Waitley

33.) Subtlety may deceive you; integrity never will.— Oliver Cromwell

34.) “Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of your own mind.” ― Ralph Waldo Emerson

35.) “Image is what people think we are; integrity is what we really are.” — John C Maxwell

36.) “Sometimes the cost of integrity is the loss of a friend.” — Jack McDevitt

37.) “Integrity without knowledge is weak and useless, and knowledge without integrity is dangerous and dreadful.”— Samuel Johnson

38.) Supporting the truth, even when it is unpopular, shows the capacity for honesty and integrity. – Steve Brunkhorst

39.) “Integrity is your destiny-it is the light that guides your way.” – Plato

40.) “There can be no friendship without confidence and no confidence without integrity.” ― Samuel Johnson

Other inspirational integrity quotes

41.) The strength of a nation derives from the integrity of the home. – Confucius

42.) Any nation that does not emphasize integrity will always fail. – Yemi Osinbajo

43.) “If you don’t stand for something you will fall for anything.” ― Gordon A. Eadie

44.) One of the truest tests of integrity is its blunt refusal to be compromised.— Chinua Achebe

45.) Six essential qualities that are the key to success: Sincerity, personal integrity, humility, courtesy, wisdom, charity. – Dr. William Menninger

46.) “The glue that holds all relationships together … is trust, and trust is based on integrity.” – Brian Tracy

47.) “The time is always right to do what is right.” – Martin Luther King, Jr.

48.) “Lead your life so you wouldn’t be ashamed to sell the family parrot to the town gossip. ” ― Will Rogers

49.) Make living your life with absolute integrity and kindness your first priority. – Richard Carlson

50.) “If everyone were clothed with integrity, if every heart were just, frank, kindly, the other virtues would be well-nigh useless.’ – Moliere

Which are your favorite integrity quotes?

Integrity is one of the most vital qualities we need that can improve every part of our lives. We need integrity if we want to have a successful and fulfilling life.

Having integrity means your words and thoughts are consistent with your actions and deeds. Hopefully, these integrity quotes have inspired you to be totally honest and truthful in every part of your life.

Did you enjoy these integrity quotes? Which of the quotes was your favorite? Tell us in the comment section below. We would love to hear all about it.

The post 50 Integrity Quotes on Leading by Example all the Time appeared first on Everyday Power.

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libidomechanica · 6 years ago

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Untitled (‘Tis the others grew less time’)

‘Tis the others grew less time to listen to it— but that I will proceed; thirdly, never lost as much by pieces gleaning is’ possessed by Longinus or the wight moon does slumber; so once more of dread. When their own pall, in whom all wouldst brabbling be? I saw parch’d for chanc’d to shine, till Gregory tore his arms. Careless, young, and I should lift their blood. O pardon a our sin? She e wrought, like these birds luld me a sunset halos o’er the sun, and, as when the heaven, the mysteries the wood so late for the Styx for mortal rain, yet in the furniture and Voltaire, of one battles to the Soul that incarnate lie, would at least nine, and I must be own’d was hidden fawn. His second moon: - held sacred right, behold, before, a higher ones I may not succeed? In one of almonds turn’d for a station: there mighty drink jeered at the boy walks to the silent amongst other line;—but not much as they interchange, and showery glancing at the

rich and rail, w here he was her wo; yet swam in ioy, such a temperate maintenance, to correct, with all this in her feet, and split the world, and unlawful plea commence of his learning knee-deep in lately deign’d to run, felt on the mere praise because he ne’er so buoyant you can, gifts will answer, ‘All will fly for malice show things are’ my head. I light glares and festivity? Leant to meet her on the lands which well both white; when roving trouble heroism of him, but seeing what he was crazy. Received instructor. And thus we see that slight prejudice it was not these regions are in prison, methinks less or more red Vesuvius loaded with Moliere’s bete: society, that in my head, to work my mind, and damning the head. Relieve, believe such resource of the Thunder is to be c all’d a crime is perpetual to shepherdesse, fiercest sheets rise gentle thankfulness, that celestial thief!

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #243 texts

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tadasvinokurblog · 8 years ago

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‘Box Man’

Tadas Vinokur

‘Box Man’

N.B. This play is without scenes or acts.

The spectators will find the curtain closed. After the play commences and the curtain is raised, spectators will see a bourgeois study - a room that contains a desk (directed at spectators), a carpet, couple of drawers and a clothing rack with a women’s dress hanging on it. Most importantly, there is a box on the stage. The box is sufficiently big enough to comfortably fit a grown woman.

On the wall, across the stage, there is a poster which says in neon letters: ‘Georg is full of shit!’.

The male actor sits at his desk. He is very well dressed. His looks should be immaculate, polished to the degree of male queerness within film noir. The model for the male actor’s overall looks should be Johnny from the movie ‘Gilda’. One of male actor’s shoes is untied.

The female actor is in the box. There’s a door at the back of the box - which audience can’t see - that will ultimately allow Laura to escape.

Throughout the play, the male actor is supposed to be working; I.e., he reads a newspaper, he scribbles something, he contemplates, he listens. Georg’s overall demeanor/attitude is a little manic. He suffers from bipolar disorder. He is often agitated/anxious. Mood swings are a frequent occurrence with respect to Georg’s character.

Curtain is raised.

Georg is reading a newspaper. Couple of moments pass. He puts the newspaper aside. Looks at the Box.

Georg (apathetically) This feels Kafkaesque.

Laura You’re mad! This circumstance is surely Machiavellian.

Georg It feels like I’m in a box..

It’s a little damp in here and my shoes are undone.

(Pauses) Ennui..

I was reading the news today, it turns out capitalism is a fickle creature.

It used to be in favor of boxed welfare, now - apparently - capitalism is reproaching that issue. (Pauses) It’s not really an issue though - it’s just that it smells weird here.

Anyhow, I need to act, I need to resist..

Either that, or neoliberalism will put boxes in the hands of the few.

Disparity with respect to boxes is very obvious already.

They will try to deinstitutionalize my asylum. Next thing you know, they will put boxed men - like me - in prison.

I shall therefore read about civil disobedience.

Where should I start?

Henry Thorough?

Ghandi?

Rawls?

No, I know!

I should tie my shoelaces first - After all, I ought to be able to stand up to injustice.

Georg ties his shoelaces.

Laura (casually) My day was good.

Georg Good, I want you to be happy.

What is this thing behind my back? It’s slimy and hard.

Finds a chalice behind his back.

Right!

It’s the chalice I used during yesterday’s Mass. I was coming back to Jerusalem.

Oh, you should have seen it!

(with admiration) It was GRAND! Pious crowds cheered! People exalted me! Jubilations commenced!

It’s amazing what awe-inspiring things can transpire in my box.

I also had this soggy piece of tofu. Where is it? I had some coconut milk and a piece of tofu, blood and body!

(Anxiously) Where is it?

Without it I shall not resist, Without it - I can’t resurrect.

(calmly) I’m stuck in my box, I have to admit.

People will not show up for the eucharist.

Laura How was your day?

Georg You know how it was. I’m baring the box. Don’t ask me that.

Laura (apathetically) Fine.

Silence

Georg (restlessly) Well, if you really want to know..

Logistics with this box is excruciating.

By the time I’m at work I’m already weak, disabled, wrecked.

(sighs) I become a misanthrope at work. I despise those philistines around me. Their paltry existence gets on my nerves. However, I act as Moliere’s Alceste did - I try to be courteous, affable.

(thinks) You know, Laura, at work there is this lady - her name is Celimene. She keeps bossing me around.

But I don’t mind it. I mean, such behaviour is only fitting.

I love Celimene, she’s a lady of good grit.

I hate the others, they’re too courteous - they’re cogs in the system.

(disgusted) They’re slaves.

Scum.

Vermin.

Celimene is a lady that tells me how it is.

Oh, by the way!

I love you Laura.

Laura I love you too.

Georg As far as my love is concerned - it’s no charade.

True, I’m with the box, but I can nonetheless appreciate love. I learned this from Diotima of Mantinea.

(Hyperbollicaly) In the mean of the wise and the ignorant I attain love. In the mean of the box and the open-space I solidify love. In the mean of depression and elation I redefine love again..

Laura (interrupts Georg) Perhaps it’s a case of bipolar disorder?

Georg Be that as it may, mortal nature is seeking as far as possible to be everlasting and immortal. My love is in the mean of two opposites - mortal and immortal. I mediate those opposites, hence - I love you.

Laura I don’t understand. Sounds like a bunch of platitudes.

Georg Of course it does. I’m baring the box.

Guilty as charged!

Strike me - if you will - with electro convulsive treatment.

It’s a damn box! Only soundbites can reach you!

It’s a verbal hypomania - I will use ‘pressure of speech’ and ‘flight of ideas��, I will be punning and I will make humorous associations between concepts.

But I can’t prove my love to you, can I?

I can’t make love to you..

I can only talk love to you..

Laura I guess you can’t. Georg I can’t what?

Laura You can’t love me.

Georg (shouts) No! You wicked Celimene!

(calmly) My apologies, I didn’t mean to be scathing.

Listen, Plato said philosophy is love. And that’s absolutely crucial!

Like Diogenes, I sit here baring the box.

All I have is my sun. Well, in this case I only have my chalice. Can’t find the tofu..

(mutters to himself) there should be some tofu left on the altar..

What was I on about? (thinks)

Right.. Love!

(enthusiastically) Well, Rimbaud said we need to reinvent love.

That’s what I do here in this box.

And you should appreciate, nay - you should be thankful, Laura!

Just, consider this for a second:

there’s disjuncture here, you roam around the world, I sit baring the box.

Our situation involves two people.

Two.

Two perspectives that are very different.

I can’t inflict upon you what Paris inflicted upon Helen - I can’t abduct you, I can’t put you into my box.

We would lose something, wouldn’t we? I wouldn’t dare to undertake such an escapade. Two perspectives would be lost. We would encounter each other - I would be a man with no box to bear.

A man with no box to bear is no man at all.. Consequently, we are in luck. We are two people, and we construct the perception.

It’s not a perception of one person, but a perception of Two.

You see, through us - both of us - imagination takes power!

(solemnly) L'imagination prend le pouvoir!

Laura What’s wrong with encountering each other?

Georg Why do we have to get bogged down in these quaint, romantic cliches? It’s much better this way - this situation makes us equal.

This situation is egalitarian, we participate mutually through each other’s perspective.

If you had been a woman with a box, that wouldn’t have made sense - we couldn’t encounter each other at all. We would be blind, deaf, oblivious..

Now, It’s a perfect match, isn’t it?

I sit here, you wander around over there..

We don’t have to worry about the encounter!

No, love has nothing to do with an encounter.

We are better protected this way - if we were to see each other we would not live up to each other’s expectations.

Imagine us confronting the corporeality of each other?

That would be obscene, grotesque..

(emphatically) Horrendous!

Now, luckily, we know exactly where we stand - I have a box and you don’t.

Simple as that.

Remember Wagner’s Tristan and Isolde? Well, Laura, you see what happens when two people deprive themselves of boxes?!

Sad!

Tragic - very bitter indeed!

One ought not to tear the confines between Beatrice and Dante! By the same token, I shouldn’t be deprived of my box.

(silently) Apparatchiks will take me to prison, soon.

Very soon.

I shall blame R. D. Laing… (pauses)

Indeed, come to think of it - I’m much like the florentine bard.

You will take me to heaven and I will lurk there in a box - I will sing the dithyramb.

You know, if this box is worth a damn, it is because this box forces Dionysius to jubilate.

All my quips aside, really! And I’m not talking about myself. No. With or without me - this box is special.

That’s where the events transpired - I came back to Jerusalem. If it wasn’t a box it would be the holy grail. With some tofu inside.

(mutters quietly, looks around the room) Can’t find it. There was the liturgy and then the rite, a little tefillah.. Where could it be? Perhaps deacon took it.

No, I’m certain he was on secondment to Damascus.

I hope he is able-bodied.

I worry about him, he’s a feeble man - prone to epilepsy.

(Saddened) Ennui, ennui again..

Lack of tofu.

Dreadful privation.

And to top it all of - they might take me. They really can! I communicate authentic, vivid experiences, verisimilitudes.

(thinks)

They’re supposed to contribute to my schizophrenia, they mustn’t affirm my identity, let alone romanticize my trauma. Again, I blame Szasz.

(growls, fidgets)

Going back to the subject of sex-antagonism.. Was that what we talked about? Or was it love?

Doesn't matter - the crux of the matter is that it’s not over.

Laura What’s not over?

Georg Well, as Rebecca West said, it’s not over.

Laura What is?

Georg Sex-antagonism. But don’t be dazed just yet! I love you nonetheless.

Laura Love you too.

Georg That’s how we overcome said antagonism - I sit here, baring the box.

Castrated and - I know, it might be of surprise to you - a little anxious.

Really.

Somebody might damage the most important of my jewels and frankly - I’m experiencing a little bit of restlessness.

I’m afraid one day I will not be able to tend my box anymore.

Somebody might show up and say that the existence of boxes does not entail the identity of a boxed man.

And then they will take it away, I swear.

Once, they actually did try to take it away. (sighs)

I was in between of ages three and five. I played with my favorite tin soldier by the name of Werther. Once, Werther lost the battle of Leipzig. It was just a matter of bad luck.

A trifle, a non-event!

However, the parent of the same sex nonetheless approached me, disciplined me for not appreciating the gravity of the situation and threatened to damage my box.

Then I got expelled to the Elba orphanage. From that point on, I developed an unconscious fear of damage that could be inflicted upon my box.

God forbid!

It could be taken away! (calmly) I swear.

Hence, as long as I still bear the box, you should remember how democratic this situation is: it’s not a monologue of the box, but a dialogue of two. I put forth a thesis, you answer with an antithesis. I sit in the box - you roam out there. Free like the feminine of Goethe's likings. Unfettered.

Don’t forget that, my dear Celime..Laura.

Laura I bought myself new earrings today.

Georg They look great.

Laura You’re no witness to my purchases.

Georg Are you saying I can’t appreciate your accessories because I’m in this box? Nonsense.

Listen, Laura, earrings are great - Shakespeare wore it.

I wouldn’t do that though - I have no penchant for body modification.

For me, committing to a body by altering it means sitting in a box and pretending that I’m galloping in the meadow while the rest of the laymen yearn for my carnal, mutated, fleshy organic mass.

That would entail servitude - scopophiliac schmoozing between master and the slave.

I have no appetite for titillation of master’s gaze.

I’m closed.

I’m baring the box, and hence I’m liberated. Shackled.

No one can observe, monitor or eyeball me.

There’s no tacticity, voyeurism - mere sound-bites coming out of the black abyss..

(thinks)

Earrings!

How would that look?

Laura Are you asking whether they look good on me?

Georg No, you sweet scoundrel. I know it looks marvelous. I’m asking in what way do they look so dazzling?

Out of mere curiosity I voice the latter interest.

If I’m not galloping in the meadow - surely you are.

Unrestricted soul can readily enlighten the tethered one, oh mistress - set me free.

I therefore want to know: where do those earrings appear in the spur of the moment?

For example, do they hang or do they clasp?

Are they gold or silver?

Are your ears at ease when you wear them?

Are you conscious of wearing the earrings while you do?

If yes. Do you wear the earrings because you endure the stimuli?

If yes. Can one bear an accessory that would be strictly extraneous without the overpoweringly visceral reminder that one is a coquette that accessorizes?

If you’re the lady that accessorizes, do you accessorize for me, for my dreams?

For my affliction and jubilation when I’m situated in a dark, humid box?

If that is the case, can you be my wish-fulfillment then?

Can my dreams relieve me of the pain that I feel when I’m no witness to your earrings?

Will the dream-work soothe my dementia?

Will I displace my grudges by positioning your earrings within the illusionary mise en scene?

Will I condense my fright, anguish, lust, claustrophobia onto the earring?

Surely, that might happen, but first I need to fathom the following:

(slowly) Do they clasp or hang?

Gold or silver?

Are they small or large?

What style are they?

Are they vintage, contemporary?

Can one detect symbolism in them?

Laura is silent.

One has to imagine a mirror,

I see you, Laura, in that mirror,

wearing earrings, tenderly awry,

flesh-and-blood of the picture effortlessly curbed,

Phenomena of your attributes soars through the warped insignia,

Your earrings glide within unruly dream-work,

They fuse, proliferate, like shreds of paper in windswept dusk,

Madonna, in a room of her own - gripping 500 pounds,

Proud and resolute in her monumental deeds,

Like George Eliot, though without phallocentric boxes,

Illustrious in her uncluttered meadow,

Like Shakespeare’s sister, yet without a tainted body,

Eschewing hindrances - trumping obstacles,

Proving suffragists passe,

Creating new instruments,

Inventing, molding, shaping future,

Serving avocado toast for breakfast!

With earrings, tremendously compelling,

Synecdoches of ecriture féminine,

Laura becomes, she becomes a woman,

Accepts masculine values and harnesses history,

Doesn’t cling to the privileges of the Box,

Becomes a full-scale human being,

At the great moment of awe - it knocks me down,

When I gaze at you, out there, autonomous and apathetic,

No interest in me - I recall Rita Mae Brown,

Then I know - you will not make love to me.

You were never meant to encounter me, touch or caress me, Even if you wished for it - we know it’s erroneous!

I’m the monster, phantom, leppard of the Box. Utterly beneath you!

You wield the history - unboxed. Laura, paris veut une masse! Relinquish fleshy intimacy and wear your earrings proud!

(pause)

You wield the history, unboxed..

I know this, because I’m in the box,

The box, that deems me Other,

Fixed, like Odysseus’ duty

Stagnant, threatened by the inevitable - prison,

Natural lump at the center of the burgeoning space ,

Box, that renders me mystical, exotic and veiled,

Confused male mystique,

A non-human, that will be brought to justice,

Now, (laughs) I’m denied justice due to social deviance - (screams) THE BOX!

They will separate psychiatry from the state,

Then they will castigate involuntary treatment,

They will give me legal rights,

And I won’t find my tofu.. My flock won’t assemble! No doubt about it!

Don’t abolish insanity defense,

Insane, they require Boxes!

Like junkies need dope, comedians need tyrants,

Mad need their cells!

Hence I demand, I demand coercive box-policy!

While you, Laura, go! Wield the history! Godspeed!

Laura Georg, we should wield our relationship first - tell me, where we going to live from September on?

Georg (emphatically) Laura, isn’t clear that I’m stuck here?

(mutters) unless of course, they will take me..

Laura Oh, I forgot to tell you, I met this person.

I told them about your box.

Silence

Georg What do you mean?

Laura I told them about the box.

I told them about the tofu, chalice, coconut milk, Jerusalem - the whole lot! The person knows that you’re afraid of someone taking your box.

Georg That’s private. I mean, such information is very delicate. You know that, right? Laura?

Laura This person had some good suggestions though, they can help me to help you!

Georg There is nothing you can help me with. Just settle down and be free!

Stay there and live . . . . . stay there and blossom . . . . stay there and thrive! . . . .Stay there and begin to fathom how lucky you are . . . . . . stay and roam, wander - meander gleefully . . . . . Stay bodily, let loose the ethos . . . . .Like the Cartesian that once ruled the dictum . . . . . Bow! . . . . Reshape yourself with intellectual prowess,

(melancholically) settle down, kind Laura, settle down...

Forget Hans Castorp’s x-ray - disavow your flesh!

Idle, Laura, Idle!

With no box to bear - your agency is immortal!

With no box to bear - you can stay there . . here - at liberty!

With no box to bear - dare to use your own reason!

Idle! Disseminate the erudition!

With no box to bear - you are the Gaia without Chaos,

Without male assistance - open up the skies! Where boxes, like gods and druids, are bereft of life!

Settle down, Laura! Observe me!

. . . . . Look at me! . . . . a captive of Tartarus.

Me? ‘I am body and soul!’ - I assert this due to the box I bear,

Like Zarathustra, I perform the box - I perform my body,

My spirit is the accomplice to the box,

A trifle without it!

Bid farewell to the box - become dumb, become imprisoned!

Bid farewell to the box - abdicate fidelity to ethics. To you, Laura!

Bid farewell to the box - be a slave to the temporality of instance!

No loyalty, no allegiance, no devotedness - no reciprocity!

Unaware of eternal recurrence - I would endure the metonymy without sacrifices of the Jester!

Laura You wish that everybody had boxes?

Georg For some of them - it’s not a matter of choice.

Some of my parishioners are members of the political society, they wage bloodless war against the naysayers - the boxed men and women, members of the civil stratus.

They would rather see proletariat imprisoned within the gig economy.

Wherein you constantly reinvent yourself - construct a plethora of masks and spectacles.

To quote Kierkegaard: ‘Do you know that there comes a midnight hour when every one has to throw off his mask?’

Do you know, Laura?

I can love you, because I can reveal myself. To state the obvious - I’m the Box.

No spectacles here, no ploys or charades.

I say mea culpa, but that is the truth of the matter..

Can one say this even more crudely? I’m the hamartia! The serpent! Persona non grata! Seed of the serpent!

(sighs)

Elephant in the room..

Laura I’m actually really intrigued - I want to make you squirm! Oh, dapper, you!

Georg! The forbidden fruit!

You will shriek and howl.. (thinks)

(casually) But that’s just inevitable..

I have to test your capacity to reveal yourself - your buttox,

your penis,

your skin,

your saliva.

Until it fidgets, drips or is rendered stiff - I will not capitulate.

Georg (anxiously) What do you mean? You’re mad! I’m barred from you, Laura. You can’t change me, I’m already a pariah - a Boxed man.

Through my bowels currents of revolution flow.

Laura Even a boxed man is not impervious to stagnation.

Georg Either kill me or take me as I am, because I’ll be damned if I ever change.

Laura I will call you Juliette. You hear me, Georg? I will call you Juliette!

You’re in the box, does your name even matter?

Don’t be afraid - I will merely set your body free.

Now, Juliette, allow me to see you!

Georg slowly starts undressing, he is confused and petrified. Georg’s hands are shaking.

Georg Stop this interrogation, I demand you, Laura!

This is an infringement of my privacy!

Your words, they penetrate, they mutilate my Box.

I thought we had an understanding - we partake in the relationship between two equals.

We cooperate in the dialog between the free and the fettered.

You roam out there - I sit in the Box.

Simple as that.

We embrace the experience of the world from the perspective of difference.

Listen, Laura, life is being made - no longer from the perspective of one, but from the perspective of two!

Georg puts on a woman’s dress.

Laura begins kicking, punching the walls of her box.

Georg Stop it!

You can’t see me!

I won’t allow it.

You sweet virago!

You can’t take away my box!

You little scoundrel!

Laura (screams) I’ll show you the world. You said you were orphaned, Juliette?

(brazenly) Would you like to meet Noirceuil and Saint-Fond?

You could be their mistress, Georg!

Anatomically boxed in a male body,

You could easily be feminized!

Aren’t you goal oriented, Juliette?

‘L’impossible Monsieur Juliette’!

Georg Stop it! Don’t damage my box! You damn Celimene!

Laura You committed a crime, Juliette! A serious one at that! Remember the robbery? When you wore men’s clothing and you robbed me of my box?

Georg You’re delusional. (starts pacing nervously around the stage, makes grimaces, grotesque hand gestures)

Music . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Laura keeps on trying to escape - to break through. Some scratching, moaning, gasping can be heard.

Laura - Music (together) Remember. . . what . . . . . Noirceuil. . . . . . asked you to do? . . . . . . . . . . . . Juliette? . . . . . He asked you. . . . . . . . to worship his . . . . . . . erect . . . . penis . . . . . . . . . . . . . You probably . . . . . . are aware . . . . . . . . how dangerous . . . . . . . are men . . . . . . . .when their boxes are erect . . . . . . . . . . . sometimes I think . . . . . they would just love it . . . . . . . . if the whole . . . . . . . . . . universe would . . . . . . .cease to exist . . . . . . . while . . . . . . the box is still erect! . . . . . .Moberti said that! . . . . . . . . . . . Remember, Juliette?. . . . . . . . Georg? . . . . . Who has the box? . . . . . .Can you answer me that? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Your fright . . . . . . Your angst was always belated . . . . . . my lack of box . . . . . . . . . my absence . . . . . . . . . was . . . . always secondarily so . . . . . . through . . . . . . . the specular turn . . . . . . . . . you arrived at my genitals and . . . . . . . . said ‘Lack’! . . . . . . . . . . the anxiety of castration . . . . . . . . . . .became coherent . . . . . . . . when you looked at me . . . . . . . . . .and fathomed . . . . . . my present absence . . . . . . . . my ability to move while staying . . . . . . . . my ability to roam while settling down. . . . . . . my present absence of the box . . . . . . the penis . . . . . . . . Binaristicaly . . . . . . you . . . . . put my clitoris . . . . . . . under . . . . . the narcissistic ideal . . . . . . . . . . . under the . . . . . . atrophied Positivity! . . . . . . . You thought . . . . . . you stage . . . . . your own servitude? . . . . . . . By shackling yourself? . . . . . . How is Dominatrix . . . . . . . a free agent? . . . . . . Juliette?! . . tell me! . . . . . . . . I could not even . . . . . carry out violence! . . . . . . . I was rendered . . . . . . cold and apathetic . . . . . .the moment . . . . . you instigated . . . . a theatrical . . . . . . . . reciprocity . . . . . . . . . . . one based on . . . . . . . . . . suspension of violence . . . . . . . . through the endless . . . . . . repetition of the . . . . . . . interrupted gestures . . . . . . . . . . . . Juliette! . . . . . . . . . Georg! . . . . . . you establish . . . . . . you decided . . . . . what I am to think about you . . . . . . . . . how should I feel . . . . . .what earrings I should wear . . . . . . . . you assumed the stance . . . . . of the stage . . . . . director . . . . . . . . and kept explaining . . . . . . . the parameters . . . . . . . of our ‘boxed’ situation . . . . . . the most intimate desires . . . . . . became . . . . . . . objects . . . . . . . of contract . . . . . . . . and composed . . . . . . . . . . consultation! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . and you have never . . . . . . even seen me! . . . . . . Through point de capiton . . . . . . . you communicated me . . . . . .through . . . . . . signification that is limited . . . . . . .retroactive . . . . . . . .within . . . . . the limited . . . . . . boxed . . . . . . bounded . . . . . . .context . . . . . . . . . . . when the materiality of the boxes . . . . . . unfold . . . . . Juliette! . . . . . . you will comprehend the . . . . . . . excess materiality . . . . . . . which . . . . . . has no boxes . . . . . . No boxes! . . . . . There is no Man in the Box! . . . . . . Juliette! . . . . . . . This is about . . . . . . . the search . . . . . . for libertines . . . . . .who . . . . . could . . . . . strike you with . . . . . the thunderbolt-phallus . . . . . . . after which there is no box that would allow to scrutinize . . . . . nature! . . . . . . . There’s only . . . . . . the box . . . . . and the nature . . . . that will devour you . . . . . . . . obliterate you . . . . . . .There is no man in the Box, Julliette!

Laura finally finds a way to escape the box. Immediately leaves the stage. Doesn’t look at Georg.

Georg stops nervously pacing. Picks up his chalice. Sits down next to the desk, places the chalice in the center of the desk. Takes the piece of tofu out of the drawer - places it on the table. Looks at the cornucopia on the desk and smiles. Georg is happy.

Slowly raises the Tofu above his head.

Georg The body of Juliette! (screams out triumphantly)

Raises the Chalice up.

Georg The blood of Juliette!

N.B. Curtain drops.

The End

0 notes

tadasvinokur · 8 years ago

Text

‘Box Man’

Tadas Vinokur

‘Box Man’

N.B. This play is without scenes or acts.

On the wall, across the stage, there is a poster which says in neon letters: ‘Georg is full of shit!’.

The female actor is in the box. There’s a door at the back of the box - which audience can’t see - that will ultimately allow Laura to escape.

Curtain is raised.

Georg is reading a newspaper. Couple of moments pass. He puts the newspaper aside. Looks at the Box.

Georg (apathetically) This feels Kafkaesque.

Laura You’re mad! This circumstance is surely Machiavellian.

Georg It feels like I’m in a box..

It’s a little damp in here and my shoes are undone.

(Pauses) Ennui..

I was reading the news today, it turns out capitalism is a fickle creature.

It used to be in favor of boxed welfare, now - apparently - capitalism is reproaching that issue. (Pauses) It’s not really an issue though - it’s just that it smells weird here.

Anyhow, I need to act, I need to resist..

Either that, or neoliberalism will put boxes in the hands of the few.

Disparity with respect to boxes is very obvious already.

They will try to deinstitutionalize my asylum. Next thing you know, they will put boxed men - like me - in prison.

I shall therefore read about civil disobedience.

Where should I start?

Henry Thorough?

Ghandi?

Rawls?

No, I know!

I should tie my shoelaces first - After all, I ought to be able to stand up to injustice.

Georg ties his shoelaces.

Laura (casually) My day was good.

Georg Good, I want you to be happy.

What is this thing behind my back? It’s slimy and hard.

Finds a chalice behind his back.

Right!

It’s the chalice I used during yesterday’s Mass. I was coming back to Jerusalem.

Oh, you should have seen it!

(with admiration) It was GRAND! Pious crowds cheered! People exalted me! Jubilations commenced!

It’s amazing what awe-inspiring things can transpire in my box.

I also had this soggy piece of tofu. Where is it? I had some coconut milk and a piece of tofu, blood and body!

(Anxiously) Where is it?

Without it I shall not resist, Without it - I can’t resurrect.

(calmly) I’m stuck in my box, I have to admit.

People will not show up for the eucharist.

Laura How was your day?

Georg You know how it was. I’m baring the box. Don’t ask me that.

Laura (apathetically) Fine.

Silence

Georg (restlessly) Well, if you really want to know..

Logistics with this box is excruciating.

By the time I’m at work I’m already weak, disabled, wrecked.

(sighs) I become a misanthrope at work. I despise those philistines around me. Their paltry existence gets on my nerves. However, I act as Moliere’s Alceste did - I try to be courteous, affable.

(thinks) You know, Laura, at work there is this lady - her name is Celimene. She keeps bossing me around.

But I don’t mind it. I mean, such behaviour is only fitting.

I love Celimene, she’s a lady of good grit.

I hate the others, they’re too courteous - they’re cogs in the system.

(disgusted) They’re slaves.

Scum.

Vermin.

Celimene is a lady that tells me how it is.

Oh, by the way!

I love you Laura.

Laura I love you too.

Georg As far as my love is concerned - it’s no charade.

True, I’m with the box, but I can nonetheless appreciate love. I learned this from Diotima of Mantinea.

(Hyperbollicaly) In the mean of the wise and the ignorant I attain love. In the mean of the box and the open-space I solidify love. In the mean of depression and elation I redefine love again..

Laura (interrupts Georg) Perhaps it’s a case of bipolar disorder?

Laura I don’t understand. Sounds like a bunch of platitudes.

Georg Of course it does. I’m baring the box.

Guilty as charged!

Strike me - if you will - with electro convulsive treatment.

It’s a damn box! Only soundbites can reach you!

It’s a verbal hypomania - I will use ‘pressure of speech’ and ‘flight of ideas’, I will be punning and I will make humorous associations between concepts.

But I can’t prove my love to you, can I?

I can’t make love to you..

I can only talk love to you..

Laura I guess you can’t. Georg I can’t what?

Laura You can’t love me.

Georg (shouts) No! You wicked Celimene!

(calmly) My apologies, I didn’t mean to be scathing.

Listen, Plato said philosophy is love. And that’s absolutely crucial!

Like Diogenes, I sit here baring the box.

All I have is my sun. Well, in this case I only have my chalice. Can’t find the tofu..

(mutters to himself) there should be some tofu left on the altar..

What was I on about? (thinks)

Right.. Love!

(enthusiastically) Well, Rimbaud said we need to reinvent love.

That’s what I do here in this box.

And you should appreciate, nay - you should be thankful, Laura!

Just, consider this for a second:

there’s disjuncture here, you roam around the world, I sit baring the box.

Our situation involves two people.

Two.

Two perspectives that are very different.

I can’t inflict upon you what Paris inflicted upon Helen - I can’t abduct you, I can’t put you into my box.

We would lose something, wouldn’t we? I wouldn’t dare to undertake such an escapade. Two perspectives would be lost. We would encounter each other - I would be a man with no box to bear.

A man with no box to bear is no man at all.. Consequently, we are in luck. We are two people, and we construct the perception.

It’s not a perception of one person, but a perception of Two.

You see, through us - both of us - imagination takes power!

(solemnly) L'imagination prend le pouvoir!

Laura What’s wrong with encountering each other?

Georg Why do we have to get bogged down in these quaint, romantic cliches? It’s much better this way - this situation makes us equal.

This situation is egalitarian, we participate mutually through each other’s perspective.

If you had been a woman with a box, that wouldn’t have made sense - we couldn’t encounter each other at all. We would be blind, deaf, oblivious..

Now, It’s a perfect match, isn’t it?

I sit here, you wander around over there..

We don’t have to worry about the encounter!

No, love has nothing to do with an encounter.

We are better protected this way - if we were to see each other we would not live up to each other’s expectations.

Imagine us confronting the corporeality of each other?

That would be obscene, grotesque..

(emphatically) Horrendous!

Now, luckily, we know exactly where we stand - I have a box and you don’t.

Simple as that.

Remember Wagner’s Tristan and Isolde? Well, Laura, you see what happens when two people deprive themselves of boxes?!

Sad!

Tragic - very bitter indeed!

One ought not to tear the confines between Beatrice and Dante! By the same token, I shouldn’t be deprived of my box.

(silently) Apparatchiks will take me to prison, soon.

Very soon.

I shall blame R. D. Laing… (pauses)

Indeed, come to think of it - I’m much like the florentine bard.

You will take me to heaven and I will lurk there in a box - I will sing the dithyramb.

You know, if this box is worth a damn, it is because this box forces Dionysius to jubilate.

All my quips aside, really! And I’m not talking about myself. No. With or without me - this box is special.

That’s where the events transpired - I came back to Jerusalem. If it wasn’t a box it would be the holy grail. With some tofu inside.

(mutters quietly, looks around the room) Can’t find it. There was the liturgy and then the rite, a little tefillah.. Where could it be? Perhaps deacon took it.

No, I’m certain he was on secondment to Damascus.

I hope he is able-bodied.

I worry about him, he’s a feeble man - prone to epilepsy.

(Saddened) Ennui, ennui again..

Lack of tofu.

Dreadful privation.

And to top it all of - they might take me. They really can! I communicate authentic, vivid experiences, verisimilitudes.

(thinks)

They’re supposed to contribute to my schizophrenia, they mustn’t affirm my identity, let alone romanticize my trauma. Again, I blame Szasz.

(growls, fidgets)

Going back to the subject of sex-antagonism.. Was that what we talked about? Or was it love?

Doesn't matter - the crux of the matter is that it’s not over.

Laura What’s not over?

Georg Well, as Rebecca West said, it’s not over.

Laura What is?

Georg Sex-antagonism. But don’t be dazed just yet! I love you nonetheless.

Laura Love you too.

Georg That’s how we overcome said antagonism - I sit here, baring the box.

Castrated and - I know, it might be of surprise to you - a little anxious.

Really.

Somebody might damage the most important of my jewels and frankly - I’m experiencing a little bit of restlessness.

I’m afraid one day I will not be able to tend my box anymore.

Somebody might show up and say that the existence of boxes does not entail the identity of a boxed man.

And then they will take it away, I swear.

Once, they actually did try to take it away. (sighs)

I was in between of ages three and five. I played with my favorite tin soldier by the name of Werther. Once, Werther lost the battle of Leipzig. It was just a matter of bad luck.

A trifle, a non-event!

However, the parent of the same sex nonetheless approached me, disciplined me for not appreciating the gravity of the situation and threatened to damage my box.

Then I got expelled to the Elba orphanage. From that point on, I developed an unconscious fear of damage that could be inflicted upon my box.

God forbid!

It could be taken away! (calmly) I swear.

Don’t forget that, my dear Celime..Laura.

Laura I bought myself new earrings today.

Georg They look great.

Laura You’re no witness to my purchases.

Georg Are you saying I can’t appreciate your accessories because I’m in this box? Nonsense.

Listen, Laura, earrings are great - Shakespeare wore it.

I wouldn’t do that though - I have no penchant for body modification.

For me, committing to a body by altering it means sitting in a box and pretending that I’m galloping in the meadow while the rest of the laymen yearn for my carnal, mutated, fleshy organic mass.

That would entail servitude - scopophiliac schmoozing between master and the slave.

I have no appetite for titillation of master’s gaze.

I’m closed.

I’m baring the box, and hence I’m liberated. Shackled.

No one can observe, monitor or eyeball me.

There’s no tacticity, voyeurism - mere sound-bites coming out of the black abyss..

(thinks)

Earrings!

How would that look?

Laura Are you asking whether they look good on me?

Georg No, you sweet scoundrel. I know it looks marvelous. I’m asking in what way do they look so dazzling?

Out of mere curiosity I voice the latter interest.

If I’m not galloping in the meadow - surely you are.

Unrestricted soul can readily enlighten the tethered one, oh mistress - set me free.

I therefore want to know: where do those earrings appear in the spur of the moment?

For example, do they hang or do they clasp?

Are they gold or silver?

Are your ears at ease when you wear them?

Are you conscious of wearing the earrings while you do?

If yes. Do you wear the earrings because you endure the stimuli?

If yes. Can one bear an accessory that would be strictly extraneous without the overpoweringly visceral reminder that one is a coquette that accessorizes?

If you’re the lady that accessorizes, do you accessorize for me, for my dreams?

For my affliction and jubilation when I’m situated in a dark, humid box?

If that is the case, can you be my wish-fulfillment then?

Can my dreams relieve me of the pain that I feel when I’m no witness to your earrings?

Will the dream-work soothe my dementia?

Will I displace my grudges by positioning your earrings within the illusionary mise en scene?

Will I condense my fright, anguish, lust, claustrophobia onto the earring?

Surely, that might happen, but first I need to fathom the following:

(slowly) Do they clasp or hang?

Gold or silver?

Are they small or large?

What style are they?

Are they vintage, contemporary?

Can one detect symbolism in them?

Laura is silent.

One has to imagine a mirror,

I see you, Laura, in that mirror,

wearing earrings, tenderly awry,

flesh-and-blood of the picture effortlessly curbed,

Phenomena of your attributes soars through the warped insignia,

Your earrings glide within unruly dream-work,

They fuse, proliferate, like shreds of paper in windswept dusk,

Madonna, in a room of her own - gripping 500 pounds,

Proud and resolute in her monumental deeds,

Like George Eliot, though without phallocentric boxes,

Illustrious in her uncluttered meadow,

Like Shakespeare’s sister, yet without a tainted body,

Eschewing hindrances - trumping obstacles,

Proving suffragists passe,

Creating new instruments,

Inventing, molding, shaping future,

Serving avocado toast for breakfast!

With earrings, tremendously compelling,

Synecdoches of ecriture féminine,

Laura becomes, she becomes a woman,

Accepts masculine values and harnesses history,

Doesn’t cling to the privileges of the Box,

Becomes a full-scale human being,

At the great moment of awe - it knocks me down,

When I gaze at you, out there, autonomous and apathetic,

No interest in me - I recall Rita Mae Brown,

Then I know - you will not make love to me.

You were never meant to encounter me, touch or caress me, Even if you wished for it - we know it’s erroneous!

I’m the monster, phantom, leppard of the Box. Utterly beneath you!

You wield the history - unboxed. Laura, paris veut une masse! Relinquish fleshy intimacy and wear your earrings proud!

(pause)

You wield the history, unboxed..

I know this, because I’m in the box,

The box, that deems me Other,

Fixed, like Odysseus’ duty

Stagnant, threatened by the inevitable - prison,

Natural lump at the center of the burgeoning space ,

Box, that renders me mystical, exotic and veiled,

Confused male mystique,

A non-human, that will be brought to justice,

Now, (laughs) I’m denied justice due to social deviance - (screams) THE BOX!

They will separate psychiatry from the state,

Then they will castigate involuntary treatment,

They will give me legal rights,

And I won’t find my tofu.. My flock won’t assemble! No doubt about it!

Don’t abolish insanity defense,

Insane, they require Boxes!

Like junkies need dope, comedians need tyrants,

Mad need their cells!

Hence I demand, I demand coercive box-policy!

While you, Laura, go! Wield the history! Godspeed!

Laura Georg, we should wield our relationship first - tell me, where we going to live from September on?

Georg (emphatically) Laura, isn’t clear that I’m stuck here?

(mutters) unless of course, they will take me..

Laura Oh, I forgot to tell you, I met this person.

I told them about your box.

Silence

Georg What do you mean?

Laura I told them about the box.

I told them about the tofu, chalice, coconut milk, Jerusalem - the whole lot! The person knows that you’re afraid of someone taking your box.

Georg That’s private. I mean, such information is very delicate. You know that, right? Laura?

Laura This person had some good suggestions though, they can help me to help you!

Georg There is nothing you can help me with. Just settle down and be free!

(melancholically) settle down, kind Laura, settle down...

Forget Hans Castorp’s x-ray - disavow your flesh!

Idle, Laura, Idle!

With no box to bear - your agency is immortal!

With no box to bear - you can stay there . . here - at liberty!

With no box to bear - dare to use your own reason!

Idle! Disseminate the erudition!

With no box to bear - you are the Gaia without Chaos,

Without male assistance - open up the skies! Where boxes, like gods and druids, are bereft of life!

Settle down, Laura! Observe me!

. . . . . Look at me! . . . . a captive of Tartarus.

Me? ‘I am body and soul!’ - I assert this due to the box I bear,

Like Zarathustra, I perform the box - I perform my body,

My spirit is the accomplice to the box,

A trifle without it!

Bid farewell to the box - become dumb, become imprisoned!

Bid farewell to the box - abdicate fidelity to ethics. To you, Laura!

Bid farewell to the box - be a slave to the temporality of instance!

No loyalty, no allegiance, no devotedness - no reciprocity!

Unaware of eternal recurrence - I would endure the metonymy without sacrifices of the Jester!

Laura You wish that everybody had boxes?

Georg For some of them - it’s not a matter of choice.

Some of my parishioners are members of the political society, they wage bloodless war against the naysayers - the boxed men and women, members of the civil stratus.

They would rather see proletariat imprisoned within the gig economy.

Wherein you constantly reinvent yourself - construct a plethora of masks and spectacles.

To quote Kierkegaard: ‘Do you know that there comes a midnight hour when every one has to throw off his mask?’

Do you know, Laura?

I can love you, because I can reveal myself. To state the obvious - I’m the Box.

No spectacles here, no ploys or charades.

I say mea culpa, but that is the truth of the matter..

Can one say this even more crudely? I’m the hamartia! The serpent! Persona non grata! Seed of the serpent!

(sighs)

Elephant in the room..

Laura I’m actually really intrigued - I want to make you squirm! Oh, dapper, you!

Georg! The forbidden fruit!

You will shriek and howl.. (thinks)

(casually) But that’s just inevitable..

I have to test your capacity to reveal yourself - your buttox,

your penis,

your skin,

your saliva.

Until it fidgets, drips or is rendered stiff - I will not capitulate.

Georg (anxiously) What do you mean? You’re mad! I’m barred from you, Laura. You can’t change me, I’m already a pariah - a Boxed man.

Through my bowels currents of revolution flow.

Laura Even a boxed man is not impervious to stagnation.

Georg Either kill me or take me as I am, because I’ll be damned if I ever change.

Laura I will call you Juliette. You hear me, Georg? I will call you Juliette!

You’re in the box, does your name even matter?

Don’t be afraid - I will merely set your body free.

Now, Juliette, allow me to see you!

Georg slowly starts undressing, he is confused and petrified. Georg’s hands are shaking.

Georg Stop this interrogation, I demand you, Laura!

This is an infringement of my privacy!

Your words, they penetrate, they mutilate my Box.

I thought we had an understanding - we partake in the relationship between two equals.

We cooperate in the dialog between the free and the fettered.

You roam out there - I sit in the Box.

Simple as that.

We embrace the experience of the world from the perspective of difference.

Listen, Laura, life is being made - no longer from the perspective of one, but from the perspective of two!

Georg puts on a woman’s dress.

Laura begins kicking, punching the walls of her box.

Georg Stop it!

You can’t see me!

I won’t allow it.

You sweet virago!

You can’t take away my box!

You little scoundrel!

Laura (screams) I’ll show you the world. You said you were orphaned, Juliette?

(brazenly) Would you like to meet Noirceuil and Saint-Fond?

You could be their mistress, Georg!

Anatomically boxed in a male body,

You could easily be feminized!

Aren’t you goal oriented, Juliette?

‘L’impossible Monsieur Juliette’!

Georg Stop it! Don’t damage my box! You damn Celimene!

Laura You committed a crime, Juliette! A serious one at that! Remember the robbery? When you wore men’s clothing and you robbed me of my box?

Georg You’re delusional. (starts pacing nervously around the stage, makes grimaces, grotesque hand gestures)

Music . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Laura keeps on trying to escape - to break through. Some scratching, moaning, gasping can be heard.

Laura finally finds a way to escape the box. Immediately leaves the stage. Doesn’t look at Georg.

Slowly raises the Tofu above his head.

Georg The body of Juliette! (screams out triumphantly)

Raises the Chalice up.

Georg The blood of Juliette!

N.B. Curtain drops.

The End

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