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(Enter a man. By his dress, he is obviously a Leninist. He is not the kind to go naked. It is necessary that the actor 6"1 with pale blue eyes and golden-brown disordered hair. He is sinewy, sylph-like, in figure and in comportment. He moves like Peter Pan. His shadow is not dark, but has the look of something just evaporated, of a mist. This is the man I trusted and who betrayed me. Instead of loveletters, he wrote: you bandy about the terms "high/low art" without ever stopping to consider the implications of their use. I forget what followed from this. He concluded: your work is empirically and theoretically flawed.Enter a parkbench, on castors. The man sits. He lights he cigarette by waving a red flag (a handkerchief could serve for this) three times in the air. He reposes, and seems, for the most part, very contemplative. The gestures of his hands and the aspect of his eyes should indicate that he is thinking over Kant's Critique of Judgement. Cue Beethoven's Fifth, quiet at first, then rising. Man falls to weeping. If a handkerchief was used to light the cigarette, the actor playing the man might now like to raise it to his face. If the performance is realist in style, it would be a fitting touch for the man to blow his nose. Enter a coffin, also on castors. Also enter a cortege of goblins, on legs. Fall curtain.) |
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