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(Whiteboard) one artist versus a thousand old microwaves, versus a thousand replaceable machine-men

Bones

Overnight the value of human bone shot from nothing to near-pricelessness. Cemeteries wordwide were raided by governments, business, individuals alike. Famous figures, family members, all exhumed in one frenzy, the ivory exchanged or converted.

Heroes drawn from the earth in silence Ashes fetched from outer space Hearsay of tombs have the village euphoric Parents leaving bones to their children

The catacombs becometh a goldmine; then a series of dimpled caverns. Crematoria go out of business. The cemetery disappears.

Animal femur sold as human in markets Neanderthal ivory looted from museums A war being fought over the Ottawa graveyard, artifacts thrown to the side

War was then encouraged by patriarchs, the victor claiming bones of friends and foe alike. Civilians waiting hungrily on the battlefield outskirts, occasionally being destroyed by mortarfire.

The vale of human bones all jutting from the earth with no one there wishing to fetch them

We dreamed of the nearby park, where Death was stood among the oaks watching. Though we dreamed of him before and he were much closer. Within arm's reach, waiting by the bed, somewhat over a decade ago. Seeing him then between the oaks, we knew of the bounty. That the men responsible had now condemned themselves. Death was moving closer, everywhere, all at once.

We find ourselves wondering how the organised machine-men are planning to conquer other nations when they fail to even conquer one artist following a year and a half of effort and expenditure. We also find ourselves wondering what we'll do with this horde after rounding them all up. There is, we suppose, the prison now being constructed in Glasgow, though it does seem a huge waste of taxpayer money incarcerating such people, especially those who'll still be giving orders from the inside. Perhaps then it would be of benefit having all of them put to their deaths, for their own sake as well as ours. Though after this would arise the question of what to do with their bodies. Maybe we could have them fill the stomachs of the animals in shelters, instead of terminating the poor things. Food for thought. Épater les machines.

(Gives the audience a disturbing smile.)

'At the very moment when the capital of the 1000 Year Reich was being reduced to rubble around his ears, Albert Speer felt it appropriate that, rather than hold weapons the Berlin Philharmonic should take up musical instruments to play a final concert, the last ever performed in Hitler's Germany. It featured not only Beethoven's violin concerto and the Bruckner symphony, but Brünnhilde's last aria and the finale from Götterdämmerung. It was a program which, as Speer himself boasted, was deliberately chosen for its pathos and melancholy and hence as a "gesture pointing to the end of the Reich." ' - Günter Berghaus, Fascism and Theatre (1996)

#antifascism #somuchforthe1000yearreich #Günter Berghaus

'Our bodies penetrate the sofas upon which we sit, and the sofas penetrate our bodies. The motor bus rushes into the houses which it passes, and in their turn the houses throw themselves upon the motor bus and are blended with it.' - Boccioni, Carra, Russolo, Balla, Severini, Futurist Painting: Technical Manifesto (1910)

Notice how the heavy traffic ceased their commotion after the previous post, yet were followed by a few gentlemen revving beneath the window, breaking the overall subtly of the harassment and standing out like sore thumbs. Perhaps from desperation. Perhaps they're the ringleaders. They're all so foolish they'll keep going even when you tell them they're being filmed.

Number 9 from the harassment techniques as described on the UN Human Rights Office website: "Sound campaigns which is a community harassment technique where abnormal levels of sound are directed at the victim and their home. This includes cars deliberately breaking or accelerating when they pass... garbage trucks and other heavy vehicles, and countless other deliberate tactics." And number 10: "Sleep deprivation - this is perhaps one of the most insidious tactics used where victims are woken multiple times a night and can be kept awake for days at a time. The effects are dramatic and completely debilitating effecting concentration, mood, irritability, appearance, and significantly impacts all areas of their life - job performance, relationships, and significantly aids in discrediting the victim as they appear unorganised, disheveled, and sleeping patterns alter so they may sleep during the day (where noise campaigns are more effective) and be awake at night (where they can be painted as the one making noise and being a disruptive member of the community)."

https://www.ohchr.org/sites/default/files/Documents/Issues/Torture/Call/Individuals/Harrassmenttechniques.pdf

they came as to oppress a being they underestimate as she is the angel of death feeding on surplus machine-men

Let them make their noise with their machines. Record them, take their plates, their details. Send them not to the police since only one corrupt officer is enough to compromise everything, but rather the organised crime agencies such as the NCA.

Breaching the walls machine-man has around us

'It was a characteristic trait of all avant-garde movements that their oppositions to the established canons of art went hand-in-hand with a battle against the guardians of tradition... These militant revolutionaries in the "culture wars" of the Modernistic period took it upon themselves to scout the enemy territory, attack the barriers erected by the forces of tradition, force a breach, and then move into the uncharted terrain of the future. The "advance guard" would then be followed by the regular "army" of Modernist artists, who shared with the elite corps an oppositional, progressive stance, but were less reckless in their actions and did not expose themselves to the same risks.' - Günter Berghaus, Theatre, Performance and the Historical Avant-Garde (2005)

#theatre #avant-garde #Gunter Berghaus

'Related to the concept of Modernism, yet different in emphasis and intention, was that of the avant-garde, which emerged in the nineteenth century more or less in parallel with the development of modernity... The term "avant-garde" dates back to the Middle Ages, where it was used in military language to designate the advance troops of an army. Its figurative meaning of an advanced position in arts or literature originated in the Renaissance. Étienne Pasquier was possibly the first author to characterise a number of writers as "the avant-garde; or, if you prefer, the forerunners of other poets." Around the time of the French Revolution, the term came to be applied to Jacobin politics and Utopian, future-orientated philosophies. The metaphor certainly appealed to radical intellectuals who regarded themselves as an advanced guard leading the rest of mankind into a liberated future.' - Günter Berghaus, Theatre, Performance and the Historical Avant-Garde (2005)

#theatre #avant-garde #Gunter Berghaus

An Opening in Market Square

(We raise the curtain without warning, catching the audience off-guard. A councillor is there behind a podium. Some other councillors are behind them, along with two police officers.)

Councillor: If we could have silence please. I know you're all concerned with what's happening right now, but we're going to get nowhere like this. Silence, please. Silence.

(They wait for the audience to settle.)

Councillor: Now I'm going to pass you over to Sergeant Lowe right away, who'll brief you on the situation, and then take queries. Thank you.

(They step away. A police sergeant moves behind the podium.)

Lowe: Thank you all for coming on such short notice. If you don't mind, we're going to skip the introduction, moving right onto the details. Lowe: The opening in Market Square has a diameter of roughly nine metres, swallowing a portion of our fishmongers, post office, and the homes above. The depth is unknown since we're unable to measure beyond three hundred feet. And as you're all aware there are voices coming from inside, unexplained for now.

Lowe: Since the appearance of the opening a number of people have gone missing, presumed to have thrown themselves in. One was seen doing so by an officer. He'd been acting oddly the previous night, whistling to himself and so on. He spoke of hearing voices, despite being far from the hole.

(A councillor leaves the stage.)

Lowe: We've cordoned off the neighbourhood, have sentries on the boundary; yet the guards near the opening always disappear, leaving the surrounding area a dead zone. Obviously then avoid there at all costs. Everyone keep an eye on each other, especially the most vulnerable. Now, do we have any queries?

(The cast in the front rows of the audience raise their hands, ask questions. Occasionally Lowe may select a random audience member who raises their hand, responding to their query in character.)

A: Is there an update on the phone lines? Television?

Lowe: Well we're assuming they're down because of the opening. Either that, or it's a huge coincidence. There's nothing we can do about the phones, but there's an immense collection of videotapes in the library for those needing entertainment.

B: Have you made contact with our government yet?

Lowe: Our men have since returned, but we're receiving no help. With the gang war raging through the country our government have their hands full. Stories of an evil hole appearing in some remote village seem both unimportant and ridiculous in comparison. In short, we were laughed at and are having our jobs reviewed.

C: What about the media?

Lowe: The national media are focusing on what they consider more important matters, the gang war being one of them. And as you're aware local journalists who investigate the opening go missing, now assumed to be in there.

D: How many people have disappeared so far?

Lowe: We've counted forty-nine so far, with one death confirmed. We're expecting this number to climb in the coming weeks.

E: Have you tried covering the hole up?

Lowe: We tried with tarpaulin, plastic, mesh, solid metal. On each occasion the covering disappeared overnight, likely into the opening.

F: What precisely do the voices say?

Lowe: Anyone nearby having heard them was entirely changed, often driven mad, so what they're saying remains a mystery. Those who hear from a distance report male voices, rhythmic, authoritarian-sounding. Reminiscent of our dreams.

G: Have you tried having guards with their hearing muffled?

Lowe: Yes but they always go missing anyway. We now assume that proximity alone is enough to pull someone in. Even if we had a safer idea, there's no one willing to remain nearby anymore.

H: A number of others and I have been having nightmares as of late, which seem related. Do you have any more information on this?

Lowe: There are very few in the village not experiencing nightmares and the images are indeed similar. They often involve enormous holes. Holes in the centre of villages, cities, fields, valleys, rivers, oceans, sky. Voices are heard too, always male. May I remind everyone all dreams are to be reported, especially when they're giving instructions.

I: When will you lift the quarantine on the village? Why is it even in place?

Lowe: It's here as a precautionary measure and we're uncertain as to when we'll remove it. Though I imagine we'll have our freedom back soon.

Lowe: I think that's enough questions. I'll now be passing you onto the chair, Simone Reich. Simone?

(Lowe moves aside, yet Simone's not there. Slowly everyone becomes alarmed. A councillor appears from offstage, whispers something to Lowe. After a moment they approach the podium again.)

Lowe: Ladies and gentlemen, we'll have to bring this meeting to an early end. We ask you again to keep your eye on each other and report anything necessary to the authorities. And please stay away from the cordoned-off area. We'll be in touch regarding a follow-up meeting. Thank you.

(The officers and councillors move from the stage at once, to protests from the audience. The curtains drop for a while.)

(We raise the curtain again. The councillor from earlier, now disheveled, speaks from behind the podium again. There's another councillor behind them, along with Lowe and a second officer.)

Councillor: Thank you all for coming on such short notice. I know you're all concerned with what's going on, but I assure you we have everything under control. I'm going to pass you onto Sergeant Lowe again, who'll update you on the situation, and then take queries. Thank you.

(They move away. Lowe takes the podium, now dark-eyed, their demeanour having changed.)

Lowe: We've called this meeting for a variety of reasons. First of all, an update on the opening in Market Square. We'll also be going into the various laws we've brought in.

Lowe: You may have realised that the size of the cordoned-off area has increased on account of the hole having expanded. As a result many of the nearby residents were moved from their homes and business relocated. There has also been somewhat of a fuss regarding the fungi growing from the opening, which we'll go into later.

Lowe: Now despite the warnings we've had reports of residents near the opening, putting themselves and others at risk. Security now has orders to arrest anyone seen within the cordon or loitering outside. A nine o'clock curfew is also in operation as of tonight. Do we have any queries on this? (A pause.) Good.

Lowe: You should know by now the voices from the opening are becoming louder, emanating further from the source. Being without hearing protection is therefore illegal from this evening onward. Muffs and plugs will be given at the end of the meeting, which you're expected to wear when outside. Any questions?

A: What if we lose them?

Lowe: Anyone losing them should hang something red on the window. Men patrolling the area will see this and bring you more.

Lowe: We'll now discuss the unusual fungi. First, possession of the fungi is illegal. Anyone found with an iota will face jail time. Anyone caught selling will say goodbye to their future. We're very aware that the fungi saturate the black market, and we assure you the people involved will be dealt with. Now are there any questions on this or anything else?

A: Is there an update on the phonelines or television?

Lowe: As you all know our phones and televisions are acting bizarrely, from the voices coming from the receiver, to the programmes suggesting we should eat the fungi. As such, our phones and aerials will be confiscated throughout the week. Anyone hiding either will face prosecution. Videotapes are yet available for borrowing, although many have been returned in horrible conditions. Fines have and will be issued.

B: Have you any luck with the government?

Lowe: Two cars have failed to return, but a third managed to gather information. There are now reports of openings throughout the whole country, along with the West and other parts of the world. The focus of our government has thus been on towns and cities, as with the media; so we're still dealing with our problems alone.

C: And what of the gang war that had their attention before?

Lowe: The war has come to an end. Rumour has it the men have gone missing, and that's all the information I have there.

D: How many residents from our village have disappeared so far? We've heard it's near to a thousand.

Lowe: Sadly we're unable to reveal that figure on this occasion.

D: Can you tell us how many officers have gone missing?

Lowe: Again we can't reveal this.

E: What of the increasing numbers of adolescents in the force? I hear of constables as young as fourteen.

Lowe: A temporary measure to make up for our missing officers, which again I won't elaborate on further. However, I will say we're expecting reinforcements.

F: Can you go into the recent endeavours to investigate the hole?

Lowe: A man was eased in a few days ago with the proper safeguards, but sawed through his rope after reaching a certain depth. Another was lowered in without a sharp edge, and instead gnawed through. As such, all investigations have been postponed.

G: Our nightmares are worsening. What do you recommend we do?

Lowe: It's now an offense to avoid reporting one's nightmares to the proper authorities. Anyone doing so will receive a fine or prison time. Sleeping aids are available through the medical centre and I assure you they work.

H: There's rumours going around that someone snuck in through the cordon, heard beautiful music from the opening. Will you confirm this?

Lowe: Such rumours are entirely wrong and they responsible are going to be found. Rewards are being offered to anyone with information leading to their arrest.

I: When will the quarantine be removed? Should this be in place when holes are appearing elsewhere?

Lowe: Again the quarantine is only a precautionary measure that we aim to have removed as soon as possible. You'll be free in no time.

Lowe: Now I think that's enough questions for one day. We'll ask you all again to keep your eye on each another and report everything necessary. Do not leave your home without hearing protection. If you remain seated, they'll be handed out. We'll be in touch regarding a follow-up meeting. Thank you.

(Sergeant Lowe leaves the stage, as do the others. The curtain drops.)

(After a while the curtain rises again. The podium remains. A cleaner is there brushing the floor happily, humming a song. We remain with them for a moment, before the curtain drops a final time.)

#theatre

'In the theatre it is not always easy to trace the dividing line between the poetic representation of reality and the opening up of a dream world. Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream deals with dreams and delusions, Bottom's metamorphosis, and the lovers' bewitchment, but at the same time the whole play is itself a dream... The Elizabethian theatre in some ways shares Genet's conception of the hall of mirrors, in that it sees the world as a stage and life as a dream. If Prospero says, "We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep," he himself is part of a fairy-tale play of dreamlike quality. If the world is a stage, and the stage presents dreams, it is a dream within a dream.' - Martin Esslin, The Theatre of the Absurd (1961)

#theatre #Shakespeare #Prospero #Genet #Martin Esslin

Genesis

(A flat furnished with eastern tapestry. 'A' is lighting incense on a table by the couch. The door knocks. They move over and open it, allowing in 'B', who seems rather glum.)

A: Come in, come in. How are you?

B: Good thanks.

A: Another referral then.

B: I suppose so.

A: Shall I roll up?

B: No thank you.

A: Are you anti-marijuana?

B: No, I'm looking for something a bit more exotic.

A: Of course. You wouldn't have been referred here otherwise. Though I had someone once who found his way up here and were only after a twenty bag. He didn't even care about the strain! I said I'll sell you some from my own stash, but there must have been a mix-up. It's not something I do.

B: I see.

A: So what are you after? I have the exotic as well as the novelty. Collector's items I mean. This for instance.

(They move to the other side of the flat, return with what seems to be an old oxygen tank.)

A: One of William James' nitrous oxide tanks. You can still smell his breath on the mask. And see here... (they go into their pocket, producing a small bundle) Nazi methamphetamine. Still in the original wrapping. But I know you're not a collector, you don't seem the type. I were only showing off.

B: I'm looking for something for myself. For consumption I mean.

A: Then, what would you like? I've almost everything there is: Owsley acid, kykeon, a vast range of Shulgin analogues.

B: Something a bit more modern I think. Genesis, they call it.

A: Oh my. Life's not going well then?

B: You could say that.

A: I suppose you'll only be looking for one then.

B: Naturally.

A: They aren't cheap of course, as no one comes back for more. Though they did once by a strange coincidence. You do know what you're getting yourself into, yes?

B: I do.

A: Well I'm going to explain anyway, because as were said there's no coming back. And when they say there's no coming back, they don't mean as in psychedelics. They mean there's no coming back to this world. You'll swap bodies with you from another reality, assume their life.

B: I understand.

A: It could be a better one, or much worse. You might wake up as a millionaire, or on desomorphine. You could arrive in utopia, or a dystopia worse than ours. There were once a man who swapped with someone on death row. An unlucky purchase, but the warnings were known. Though his replacement were very fortunate.

B: I see.

A: The ethics then are grey, since you're dealing with yourself in both bodies. Which is only why I agree to sell the stuff. Dig?

B: Yes.

A: I've only sold five in my entire career. That's five pills in seven years. And you know the penalty for selling the stuff. The government doesn't understand that souls have swapped places. All they know is that people have Genesis, then become entirely different, often highly confused or upset. Many of them end up in mental homes and there have been deaths. Sellers appear like monsters in such a context.

B: I have the money.

(They show a roll of notes.)

A: One moment.

(A wanders over to the other side of the flat. Rifles through a cupboard.)

A: You know they say we're always switching lives anyway and never realise it. I mean, have you ever awakened unable to remember your dream, though you still felt the people from it? Or have you ever woken up in love with someone you dreamed of?

B: Yes.

A: Well what if they were the remnants of lives we left behind? What if the memories of the world we wake up in - those which sometimes take a moment before they come back - what if they came from the previous you? Memories tied to this body, yet also the soul you swapped with? What if we're also swapping memories?

(A finds what they're looking for, returns to the buyer. Swaps a capsule for the notes.)

B: Thank you.

A: What if we change every time we make a big decision? Bad ones sending us one way, good ones the other? What if we only switch when we sleep?

B: Food for thought, I suppose.

(A goes to swallow the pill.)

A: Please, not here. I'd rather not have to explain what's happened to your replacement. I mean, it's fun to learn where they came from - yet they can also be rather violent.

B: I'll do it later then.

A; Maybe leave them a note or something.

B: Good idea. Alright, thank you.

(They go to leave.)

A: Before you go.

B: Yes.

A: If you don't mind me asking, what sort of life are you leaving behind?

B: I'm wanted by evil men and they're everywhere. Each hour of the day is unsafe now. They've poisoned everything.

A: And there's no running away?

B: They'll follow my journey. I'd rather move on without them, somewhere they can't follow.

A: I see. Well, good luck. Perhaps you'll wake up safe in the arms of someone you love.

B: Maybe. Thank you.

A: Bon voyage.

(They leave.)

(A remains there thinking for a while. They sit on the couch.)

A: What if when they kill us, we wake up from a nap? Elsewhere and happy, out of harm's reach?

(They begin rolling a joint. The curtains fall.)

#theatre

Chamber (Curtains open, revealing the dim interior of a gas chamber. The floor is carpeted with naked, lifeless figures. One of them stands up, slowly.)

A: I knew this weren't a shower. There were something unholy about the place. Something Satanic. The men who led us here had the eyes of reptiles or they were grey, lifeless. And the man who gave us our instructions, who reassured us, was only a performer reciting a speech. He'll return and recite it throughout the day, every day, until there are nothing left of our people. Reassuring us, charming us. A leader with terrible eyes.

(Slowly, another person stands up.)

B: I were much taken by his uniform. He seemed confident, professional. As though he knew what he were doing. And now what? Will they bury us? Burn us? Recycle what they can of our bodies? They already took our clothes, our possessions. Perhaps they have plans even for our bones.

A: Their children will sleep in ivory cots, with toys filled with the hair from our heads. A grey civilization coated in our ashes. They'll trail it through their hallways, spend their lives beating it from their rugs.

(Another stands up.)

C: We'll rise from these ashes, from the rugs and their curtains. We'll tower above their cities in clouds. Clouds from which an immense mouth will open and more ash will pour. It will race through their streets as though buildings were collapsing, chasing men through rooms and alleyways.

A: We'll jam their weapons when they go to war. We'll ruin their instruments and leave them blind. We'll stall their tanks, have them defenseless while hellfire rains down.

(Another stands up.)

D: "The war shall be won with our ashes. We'll roll over their battalions like gas. We'll blot out the sun, be a final overcast - killing the crops, the trees, the grass.

A: We'll fill the lungs of their leaders, leave them gasping for breath. We'll clog their veins, their organs, their entire bodies. We'll have them drop dead as they make their speeches to immense fields of dying men."

(Another stands up.)

E: The survivors will flee and we'll find them. Wherever they sleep, we'll squeeze through the gaps. They'll dream of smoke, gas and cities collapsing; spend their days without rest until their bodies give way."

(Another stands up.)

F: We'll cling to their souls as they move between lives and begin our vengeance afresh. Death will be no escape for them. For one life of pain is not enough for their debt, and we mean to come for all of it."

(Slowly, another stands up. Then another as the curtains close.)

#theatre

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