[MiSTing] "A Whitman Sampler" (Part 2 of 3)

[gad...@angelfire.com]

Continued from part 1 ...

[SoL. Bridge. Crow is standing alone behind the console.
He is speaking toward us (to the Castle interface).]

CROW: Yeah, that's it -- no a little more to the right --
now slide it back a tad --

[CF. Kitchen. Bobo is positioning a bucket on a small shelf
above the double-doors. A string connects the handle of the
bucket to the top of one of the doors. Bobo is suspended
a couple of feet above the ground as he does it, and Observer
is standing beside him, watching him, and we hear the
continuous "brain noise" as Observer is apparently using
his mind to keep Bobo levitated. Both are still dressed
as earlier, and the raven is still atop Observer's head.
It has now built a small nest, and there are two eggs in it.]

BOBO: Okay, how's that?

[SoL]

CROW: Perfect. That should do it.

[CF]

OBSERVER: Good. ["Brain noise" stops.]

BOBO: AHH! [He falls the two feet to the ground, slips,
and lands on his behind.]

OBSERVER: Oh, I'm terribly sorry about that, Bobo.

BOBO: [Standing up] Be more careful next time! I
could have damaged something!

OBSERVER: You're quite correct. Such a landing might
cause you brain injury.

BOBO: [Observer's comment flying over his head] Absolutely!
[To us] Are you sure Lawgiver won't get upset
over this?

OBSERVER: Yes, my first inclination is to believe that this
will result in some ... unpleasant repercussions.

[SoL]

CROW: Don't worry, guys! If there's one thing that 20th
century humans appreciate it's a good April Fool's
joke. Hey, I've lived with 'em for years! Trust me!

[CF]

OBSERVER: I don't know, Michael didn't seem particularly
amused by your earlier bit of trickery.

BOBO: Yeah, he looked kinda peeved to me.

[SoL]

CROW: Ahhh, that's just part of playing along. Believe
me, inside -- deep inside, maybe -- he was laughing!
Just wait for Pearl to come through those doors,
and then do what I told ya. You'll be on her
good side for months!

[CF]

OBSERVER: Still, I -- [Stops as they hear footsteps
approaching.]

BOBO: Here she comes! Quick, hide!

[Bobo and Observer take positions against the wall
on either side of the double doors. A moment later,
Pearl comes through the doors, pushing them so far
open as she does so that they smash against Observer
and Bobo.]

PEARL: [Oblivious to the "oofs" from her servants and
a muted "caw!" from the raven] Well, so far
things are going well --

[The bucket of water falls, soaking Pearl's head and
dress. The bucket itself lands upside-down on her head,
covering it. She stands perfectly still as Bobo and
Observer jump out from behind the doors.]

BOBO & OBSERVER: [Merrily] April Fool! April Fool!
April Fool!

[They stop their chant as steam starts to rise from
Pearl's shoulders and from beneath the bucket.]

BOBO: [Sounding afraid] Oh-oh. I think this is bad.

OBSERVER: [Also frightened] I must concur.

[SoL]

CROW: Oops.

[Mike enters picture and stands beside Crow.]

MIKE: Hey, Crow, what's happening?

CROW: Oh, uh, Bobo and Brain Guy just played an
April Fool's joke on Pearl.

MIKE: Really? My gosh, that was pretty stupid.

CROW: Uh, yeah, I think you're right.

MIKE: What happened to them?

CROW: Look -- it's happening right now. [Nods toward us.]

MIKE: [Looking at us] Oh, wow! They're in for it now!

[As Mike becomes riveted on watching the occurrences
at the Castle, Crow quietly slips out of the picture.]

[CF]

[Pearl slowly removes the bucket from her head, the
last wisps of steam drifting up from it and her
shoulders. She is no longer wet. Her mascara
and other makeup has run partially down her face
and then dried in place, giving it an appearance
not unlike Gene Simmons of Kiss. Her hair is now
molded in the shape of the bottom of the bucket.]

PEARL: AND JUST WHAT THE HELL DID YOU TWO THINK
YOU WERE DOING?

BOBO: We -- ah -- we were just trying to help you
celebrate April Fool's Day, Lawgiver! You know,
some good-natured pranks and ribbing and --
[He stops as Pearl glares at him] You -- uh --
didn't enjoy our little prank?

PEARL: AND JUST WHY DID YOU THINK I WOULD, YOU IMBECILES?

[Pearl shifts her glare between Bobo and Observer.
They stammer incoherent for a few seconds, and
glance aimlessly around, and then Observer's glance
falls on us.]

OBSERVER: [Pointing at us] Because Michael told us you
would!

BOBO: [Looking at us] He did? [Turns and notices
Observer sneak him a pleading look] Oh, yes
he did!

[Pearl turns her glare toward us.]

[SoL]

MIKE: Who, me? Crow, why would -- [Looks around and
realizes that he's alone.]

[CF]

OBSERVER: Yes, he told us how humans enjoyed these
practical jokes, and *assured* us that *you*
would, too. [Pearl shoots him a glance]
I mean, err, you *being* human, and a superior
specimen, too, I might add.

BOBO: Yeah, he told us how to set the bucket
up and everything!

PEARL: [Returning her glare at us] So, Nelson, thought
you'd play a little prank on me, eh? Thought you'd
have a little fun at the expense of the old
Pearlster, eh?

[SoL]

MIKE: [Pleadingly] Honest, Mrs. F, I didn't have anything
to do with --

[CF]

PEARL: Come on, you don't think these two morons
would have the backbone to try something
like this on their own, do you?

OBSERVER: Certainly not!

BOBO: Impossible!

[Bobo and Observer's faces take on contemplative
looks as they consider what they have just said
as Pearl continues.]

PEARL: Well, Nelson, if you think you had it bad
before, just wait! I'll send you cheese so
rancid it would make a rat barf! But for now,
GET BACK IN THAT THEATER AND FINISH YOUR POETRY
ASSIGNMENT!

[SoL]

[Alarms blare and lights flash.]

MIKE: YES MA'AM! AHHHHHHHH!

*...6...5...4...3...2...o...

[Theater. Crow is already in his seat. Mike enters,
carrying Tom.]

MIKE: Oh, man, would you believe that Pearl's goons
tried to blame *me* for putting them up to that
prank?

CROW: [Uneasily] Really?

MIKE: [Placing Tom in his seat and resuming his own]
Yeah, they said I talked them into it and even
told them how to set the whole thing up.

TOM: Man, it really burns me up how some jerks won't
accept responsibility for their own stupidity.

MIKE: Amen to that.

CROW: [Unenthusiastically] Yeah ... absolutely.

MIKE: Crow, you're acting weird, what's --

CROW: Oh, look! The poem's starting! Thank God!

MIKE & TOM: Huh?

CROW: Uh, hey, what can I say, I'm really starting to
develop an appreciation for Whitman! [Under
his breath] A very sudden and deep appreciation.

[The poem begins, but the layout is now different. The
background music has changed to Mussorgsky's "Night on Bald
Mountain." The screen background is now scarlet. The
letters that begin to creep up the screen are in bright
yellow, the font more sharp and harsh.]

MIKE: Oh-oh, here comes that rant that Pearl told us about.
TOM: I never read a rant by a great poet. How does it differ
from the usual Internet rant?
MIKE: Well, for one thing, it doesn't look like it was written
by a monkey trying to type King Lear.

>
>
> Respondez!

TOM: What, have we slipped into a foreign language here?
CROW: If so, I hope the poem will be close-captioned.

>
>
> RESPONDEZ! Respondez!

MIKE: LE QUESTION? Le question?
CROW: Zee plane! Zee plane!

> (The war is completed--the price is paid--the title is settled beyond
> recall;)

TOM: But as *I* recall, the title was "Respondez!"

> Let every one answer!

MIKE: Ah, Walt's never met Susan McDougal.

> let those who sleep be waked!

CROW: Or President Reagan.

> let none evade!

TOM: Or President Clinton.

> Must we still go on with our affectations and sneaking?

CROW: [As Clinton] I don't know, Monica, should I come clean?
TOM: [As Monica] It's up to you, Bill. You're the Head of State.
Tee-hee.

> Let me bring this to a close--

CROW: Wow, short poem!

> I pronounce openly for a new
> distribution of roles;

TOM: Oh, neat! Let's make Pearl and her goons sit in the theater
while we send *them* bad movies!
MIKE: Works for me, although I doubt they'd agree to it.
TOM: Well, does it ever hurt to ask?
MIKE: With Pearl? Sure!

> Let that which stood in front go behind! and let that which was
> behind advance to the front and speak;

CROW: Hey! No butting in line!

> Let murderers, bigots, fools, unclean persons, offer new
> propositions!

TOM: [As Julia Roberts in _Pretty Woman_] I still say WHO,
I still say WHEN --

> Let the old propositions be postponed!

CROW: Like when Monica told Bill she'd get back to him?

> Let faces and theories be turn'd inside out!

MIKE: As per the laundering instructions.

> let meanings be freely
> criminal, as well as results!

TOM: [As announcer] And here are the results from last night's
hockey games --
CROW: Don't you DARE read those results, you criminal!

> Let there be no suggestion above the suggestion of drudgery! 10

MIKE: Hello, I'm Mike Nelson, and I'll be your waiter tonight.
Might I suggest this evening's special, drudgery, lightly
seasoned and baked, with a side order of either sautéed
desperation or creamed disgust.

> Let none be pointed toward his destination! (Say!

TOM: Hey!

> do you know your
> destination?)

CROW: Do *you* know the way to San Jose?

> Let men and women be mock'd with bodies and mock'd with Souls!

MIKE: [As Buzz Lightyear] You're mocking me, aren't you?

> Let the love that waits in them, wait!

TOM: Ah, I see Walt anticipated the DMV.

> let it die, or pass stillborn
> to other spheres!

MIKE: Along with Dustin Hoffman, Sharon Stone, and Samuel L. Jackson.

> Let the sympathy that waits in every man, wait! or let it also pass,
> a dwarf, to other spheres!

CROW: What, Hervé Villechaize was in there, too?

> Let contradictions prevail! let one thing contradict another! and let
> one line of my poems contradict another!

TOM: Sounds like Walt could be a speechwriter for Clinton.

> Let the people sprawl with yearning, aimless hands!

MIKE: Oh my God, Walt's met Torgo!

> let their tongues
> be broken!

CROW: Uhhh -- wouldn't you have to freeze them first?

> let their eyes be discouraged!

TOM: Oh, that's simple. Make them watch _Manos_.

> let none descend into
> their hearts with the fresh lusciousness of love!

CROW: Not even to get to the soft, gooey center?

> (Stifled, O days! O lands!

MIKE: Wait a minute, are we talking America or Ireland?

> in every public and private corruption!

TOM: Either way, it doesn't matter -- Ken Starr will get to the
bottom of it.

> Smother'd in thievery, impotence, shamelessness, mountain-high;

CROW: [Sings falsetto] Ain't no mountain high enough,
Ain't no shame that's low enough,
Ain't no thief deprived enough
To keep me from YOUUU --

> Brazen effrontery, scheming, rolling like ocean's waves around and
> upon you, O my days! my lands!

MIKE: Man, I wish I'd brought some Dramamine.

> For not even those thunderstorms, nor fiercest lightnings of the war,
> have purified the atmosphere;) 20

TOM: Looks like they even had problems with CFC's back then.

> --Let the theory of America still be management, caste, comparison!
> (Say!

CROW: What?

> what other theory would you?)

MIKE: Relativity?
TOM: Evolution?
CROW: Domino?

> Let them that distrust birth and death still lead the rest! (Say! why
> shall they not lead you?)

TOM: Well, because I don't feel one's stand on abortion rights
or right-to-die should be a litmus test for leadership?

> Let the crust of hell be neared and trod on! let the days be darker
> than the nights!

CROW: Ah, Los Angeles in summertime.

> let slumber bring less slumber than waking
> time brings!

MIKE: I've actually had a few boring temp jobs where that was the case.

> Let the world never appear to him or her for whom it was all made!

TOM: Well, doesn't that spoil the entire purpose of Creation?
CROW: Yeah, and a Creation's a terrible thing to waste!

> Let the heart of the young man still exile itself from the heart of
> the old man! and let the heart of the old man be exiled from
> that of the young man!

MIKE: Fortunately, they've come a long way in combating organ
rejection since Walt's time.

> Let the sun and moon go!

TOM: I don't think Walt realizes the gravity of that statement.

> let scenery take the applause of the
> audience!

CROW: Ha! Obviously, Walt's never seen *our* scenery!

> let there be apathy under the stars!

MIKE: Our high school once held an "Apathy Under the Stars" dance.
But nobody bothered to show up.

> Let freedom prove no man's inalienable right! every one who can
> tyrannize, let him tyrannize to his satisfaction!

TOM: I just got a weird mental image of Saddam Hussein performing
"I Can't Get No Satisfaction."

> Let none but infidels be countenanced!

CROW: Is that like a census?
MIKE: Uhhh -- no.

> Let the eminence of meanness, treachery, sarcasm, hate, greed,
> indecency, impotence, lust, be taken for granted above all!

MIKE: Hey, I was always taught it wasn't nice to take people
for granted.
TOM: But you know, "Eminence of Meanness" -- wouldn't that be
a good title for Pearl?
CROW: Yeah, Tom, why don't you suggest that to her?
TOM: Oh, yeah, right.
MIKE: She might take it as a compliment.
TOM: Or she might use me to test her new trash compactor. Hell,
she might turn me *into* a trash compactor!
CROW: Hey, quit talkin' trash.
TOM: D'ohhh!

> let
> writers, judges, governments, households, religions,
> philosophies, take such for granted above all!

TOM: After all, where would Captain Ahab be without Moby Dick?
MIKE: Or Peter Pan without Captain Hook?
CROW: Or Mr. Green Jeans without Captain Kangaroo?
MIKE & TOM: [Look oddly at Crow, then] HUH?
CROW: Uhhh -- or not!

> Let the worst men beget children out of the worst women! 30

CROW: Why do I have this sudden urge to visit a deli?

> Let the priest still play at immortality!

MIKE: [Announcer's voice] Welcome to Immortality! Join host Father
O'Hara and these three lucky contestants to find out which one
will win an all-penance paid trip direct to the Pearly Gates!
[Tom and Crow make "audience cheering" sounds.]

> Let death be inaugurated!

TOM: But I didn't even know death was on the ballot!
MIKE: Oh, yeah, he's heading a new party, "The Ultimate Reform Party."
CROW: Well, if he wins, does he have to give up his job on _Touched
by an Angel_?

> Let nothing remain but the ashes of teachers,

CROW: Ah, now we know who inspired Alice Cooper.

> artists, moralists,
> lawyers, and learn'd and polite persons!

MIKE: Seems Walt was deep into cremation.

> Let him who is without my poems be assassinated!

TOM: AHA! Now we know Walt's REAL agenda here!

> Let the cow, the horse, the camel, the garden-bee--let the mudfish,
> the lobster, the mussel, eel, the sting-ray, and the grunting
> pig-fish--

CROW: Hey, it sounds like the layout at my favorite all-you-can-eat
buffet!

> let these, and the like of these, be put on a perfect
> equality with man and woman!

TOM: What, make them sink to man's level?

> Let churches accommodate serpents, vermin, and the corpses of those
> who have died of the most filthy of diseases!

MIKE: No more _Mass for Shut-ins_!

> Let marriage slip down among fools, and be for none but fools!

TOM: So now they'll let fools get married, but still not gays.
CROW: But what about gay fools?
TOM: Well, maybe --
MIKE: But what if a guy who's a gay fool wants to marry another guy
who's *not* a fool?
TOM: Ummm -- naah. Those mixed marriages are too hard to make work.
CROW: You mean between fools and non-fools?
TOM: Right.
CROW: Well, so far it's worked for the Quayles.

> Let men among themselves talk and think forever obscenely of women!
> and let women among themselves talk and think obscenely of men!

MIKE: CROW!
CROW: WHAT?! I didn't SAY anything!
MIKE: Yeah, I know, but with an opening like that I thought I'd
better preempt before you said something so off-color
we couldn't find it in the spectrum.

> Let us all, without missing one, be exposed in public, naked,
> monthly, at the peril of our lives! let our bodies be freely
> handled and examined by whoever chooses!

TOM: Oh, great, I just had a flashback to the movie _Showgirls_.

> Let nothing but copies at second hand be permitted to exist upon the
> earth! 40

CROW: Ah, Walt must have inspired Xerox, too!

> Let the earth desert God, nor let there ever henceforth be mention'd
> the name of God!
> Let there be no God!

MIKE: I, uh, don't think God would agree to put it up for a vote.

> Let there be money, business, imports, exports, custom, authority,
> precedents, pallor, dyspepsia, smut, ignorance, unbelief!

CROW: Hey, Walt predicted the Internet! The man was a *genius*!

> Let judges and criminals be transposed! let the prison-keepers be put
> in prison! let those that were prisoners take the keys!

TOM: Ha! I'd swear Walt had been listening to Ollie and G. Gordon.

> Say!

MIKE: --you, say me. Say it for always. That's the way it should be.

> why might they not just as well be transposed?)
> Let the slaves be masters! let the masters become slaves!

CROW: Hummmm -- let the machines run the Earth and keep mankind
in a subservient position. Hey, works for me!

To be continued ...

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