By Nous March 13, 2005 March 1: SNAIL I keep having strange sensations. I'll feel as if something is scurrying across my thighs when I'm watching TV, or as if some one is urinating on my leg when I'm in class. I know deep down inside that I should make an opera about it called, "Say, Rose Never Was My Aunt!" But indeed she was. And eating doesn't satisfy me anymore. It just makes it worse. Someone in my dream had a collection of classical music. You know me, I wanted to hear some Liszt, but the fellow had none. So of course, I turn to John in the dream, and say to him, "This guy's pretty Lisztless, eh?" And it was terrible and true. I awoke right after I said that and began to laugh. "I've got to remember that," I murmured to myself and drifted back into the scrawny arms of sleep. DURING CLASS, I WROTE THIS MINISCULE STORY. TINY, AFRAID OF EVERYTHING: "Once more to the Ruining Machine," said the mad doctor. "We have relationships, ideas, and perceptions to annihilate!" "But, sir, the Ruining Machine was never finished. And -" Anderson stopped. Doctor Spear paused to look over his laboratory. "Go on. Fear not my objections to your convictions, Anderson! You are morally against my using the Ruining Machine." Anderson fidgeted. "Yes, sir," he said. "God damn it, Anderson!" "Yes, sir?" "This laboratory is magnificent!" "Yes, sir." "Listen, cut out that 'yes sir' stuff." "Yes, sir." "From now on, when I tell you something - that is, when I give a command - you reply with 'Jane Wyman's hazel eyes,' do you understand?" "Yes - Jane Wy - is that a command? That's more of a question." Doctor Spear paused and pursed his lips. "All right. In that situation, you might say, 'Jane Wyman's sexy cheekbones.'" "Yes, sir." THEN FOR NO REASON, I STARTED USING A SCRIPT-LIKE FORMAT: CUT TO: Doctor Spear seated at a very large table, on which rest many delicious-looking plates of food. The doorbell rings. SPEAR: The door, Anderson! ANDERSON: Hazel eyes, sir. SPEAR: No 'sir' at the end; simply 'hazel eyes,' if you HAVE to shorten it. Anderson enters with an Asian woman in a pretty pink dress. Her name is Helen Sukai. ANDERSON: Right this way, Ms. Sukai. HELEN: Charlie! SPEAR: [grinning] How do you do, Helen? HELEN: Have you noticed? SPEAR: Yes, you're Japanese now. HELEN: I think so. What's the story, Charlie! I haven't seen you in such a long time! SPEAR: I'm a doctor now. HELEN: A doctor, that's great! SPEAR: Listen, why don't you sit down? Your feet are tired. Anderson! Bring in the turkey. HELEN: Turkey! How fancy! Charlie, I've missed you so much. I think about how we left each other last time. [sniff] It makes me want to cry. SPEAR: The past. Listen, I've got what I believe is pretty big news. HELEN: Oh, no. Every time you gave me "big news" in the past, it was something bizarre and uncomfortable. SPEAR: Well, then you're in for a treat my dear, for the news I hold is neither of those. It is, I think, something you will very much like. Anderson enters with turkey. SPEAR: Oh, Anderson. Bring in the good wine, will you? ANDERSON: Hazel eyes. HELEN: Hazel eyes? Beautiful. ANDERSON: Yes, Ms. Sukai. SPEAR: Hazel eyes, in my presence. ANDERSON: Pardon. [to Helen] Hazel eyes. HELEN: My eyes are green. SPEAR: My eyes are red. I've been working all day today. I slept for an hour last night and I'll get no sleep tonight whatsoever. HELEN: You always worked too hard, Chucky. SPEAR: [hearty laughter] My God. It's been such a long time since I've heard you call me that. Do you know, I feel very happy right now. Overjoyed, really. I feel like I could float up out of this chair. HELEN: Well, you could if you wanted to. SPEAR: I know. But I'm through with those days. What good did it ever do? HELEN: It made things very strange. SPEAR: Right, but listen. I've got to tell you what's on my mind. HELEN: You always did. SPEAR: And you always listened. You beautiful creature. HELEN: Oh, wait! I forgot. I brought you something. I've been in France! Or, at least, Ms. Sukai has been in France. You know, no matter how many times this happens, our first names never change. [pulls something small out of her bag] SPEAR: What is it? HELEN: Hmhm. Open it. SPEAR [opening]: This better not be one of those French ticklers. [pausing] Oh, wow. HELEN: It's a book. SPEAR: It's "Ulysses." HELEN: The lady at the store told me that it used to be illegal to own that book, but that a French woman with no regard for her own life or reputation, published the book for the author. SPEAR: James Joyce. HELEN: Someone told me that story wasn't true. SPEAR: Not entirely. This is great. I really appreciate this. But now I've got to tell you why I really wanted you here. Anderson! ANDERSON: Sexy cheekbones? HELEN: Thank you. SPEAR: Put this in my study. ANDERSON: Hazel eyes. And that's as far as I got. Quite frankly, the fact that I know and understand these characters so well and the dialogue is STILL weak completely discourages me. But let me tell you, I love writing these two characters together and will continue to do so for my own personal fulfillment. March 3: LAST QUARTER MOON A History of the Electric Chair: Thomas Edison, wanting to prove to the world that AC current is safe and won't kill people ... Or is it DC current? I can't quite recall. That's beside the point, I guess. Unimportant, in other words, and irrelevant to the story at hand. The point is he was trying to prove that SOME current was safe, and that it should be that current and not the alternative that should be fed into peoples' homes. So he designs an electric chair and says, "Look! See! It doesn't kill me!" He flips the switch. Then flips it again. Then again. Then once more. "Tada! But, now look. Check out this other chair, through which runs the other current." He puts a mouse or something in the chair, flips the switch, and says, "See. It killed it!" And indeed it had. Someone said, "You may be onto something!" and asked Edison to design more of the killer chairs, which America then used to kill people for many, many years. MARCH 4: BIURINARY This guy that sits behind me. I dont like him. But as far as I can tell, he's a typical, nice, fun guy. I think he knows I don't like him. Wednesday, as he was walking by to get to his seat, his backpack brushed a bit too firmly against my back. I remember why I don't like him. I used to sit in the back of the room, in the second row, and he sat in the first row at a desk near the front. The second week of school, he started trudging all the way to the back of the first row just to sit next to me. Or at least that's how it seemed. Bad manners. I know he used to peek over onto my desk to see what I was writing. Now that I think about it, my switching desks to avoid his roaming eyes must have insulted him greatly. Coming into this class - intro to archaeology - I saw the professor, a Dr. Pamela A. Maack, give a student a look that was quite familiar. Ever seen "The Ref," with Judy Davis, Kevin Spacey, and Denis Leary? Remember that look Judy Davis gave Kevin Spacey when her nephew said, "Grandma's eating through her gag?" That's the look. I wonder if Maack and Davis come from the same stock. Didn't Davis also portray Judy Garland in that one TV movie that came out when I was in seventh grade? Do you remember how nobody hadn't seen that? That was really weird. Still, I watched it too. Odd place to stop, but this must be the end for now, considering I'm going to California tomorrow morning. I will keep a journal for you! Not that you care, but it's something to do.