PART V - 10 MAY 2005 MICROCASSETTE RECORDING TRANSCRIPT

-

RESUME PLAYBACK

PATRON A 
Not all of us, but a lot of us, or enough of us to make a difference, we don’t know what to do with our free time. Heh. “Free.” When time’s not “free,” what is it? What’re we doin’? What’re you doin?

PATRON B
Me? 

PATRON A 
You. 
Everybody. 
Everybody who’s not a shut-in. 
Everybody who’s not a vegetable. 

PATRON B
I, uh — 

PATRON A 
You’re prostituting yourself. Yeah? Yeah. Or tryin’ to. Makin’ all the moolah you can. But when finally you’re forced to call it quits for the day, what’s to do then? 

PATRON B 
Well. I — 

PATRON A 
We’ve — 
some of us — 
we’ve made all this money. Or just enough. Now what? 

PATRON B 
I like — 

PATRON A
Some folks? What they’ll do is they’ll sit around and they’ll marvel at it. Or… so to speak. They’ll spend hours reviewing and tinkering with their, what, their “portfolios.” Ooooh. “Portfolios.”  Some’ll even brag. You know. whoever will listen. You name-it-captive audience. I dunno, like a cabbie. Like a bank teller. Like a son-in-law. Like, like you and me. Kinda. And, yeah, a few too many of us’ll gamble it all away. Most of us, though, we spend it. Most of us, our lives are all about making money. 
Making money, 
spending money, 
making money, 
spending money, 
making money, 
spending monkey… 

Heh. 
“Monkey.” 

Makin’ monkey.
Spendin’ monkey. 
Makin’ monkey. 
Spankin’ monkey. 

Heh. 
Spankin’. 

Ya know? 

Money, monkey. 
Monkey money. 

Whichever. 
Whatever. 

Ya hear me? 

[Pause.] 

PATRON B 
Look. I really  — 

PATRON A 
Spending’s whole lot easier than making. Ain’t it? You think that’s not on purpose? No, it makes sense. I mean, c’mon, who’d want to make money if it was a bitch to spend it, right? Eh? 

Which is why inflation’s such a great thing. Really. 

Inflation, for the vast majority of us, means you can never make too much money. Inflation guarantees you never will. That’s why Bush is so good for the country. The more Bushes we have in office, the more expensive everything’s gonna get, and the harder you’re gonna have to work. It’s beautiful. ‘Cause otherwise we’d all be these lazy bums. Like me. Who just bitches and moans, really. 

Like I’ve got something better to do. 

I’m just bored. 

Though I haven’t robbed a bank, 
stolen a car, picked your pocket. 

Yet. 

PATRON B 
Yet? 

PATRON A 
Oh, I’m sure I’ll get around to it. Bitchin’ and moanin’ about the world? It’s just the first step down the stairway… freshly waxed, if they still wax stairways… which, if you’re trying to address overpopulation, by culling it, makes sense… but bitchin’ and moan’ is the just the first step down the stairway from heaven… to… delinquency. Unless you got the chops to be a rockstar. ‘Cause after you’ve bitched and moaned long enough, you maybe finally discover that such an activity gets you nowhere. 

So what’s to do? 

You start breakin’ things, 
stealin’ things, 
robbin’ folk. 

Or… 
at least… 
you’re on your way. 

Yeah? 
Right? 

Dude? 

Where ya… 
Where ya goin’? 

Dude. 
Come on…

Can’t a man… 
Can’t a man… 

…opine? 

Aloud? 

Jeez. 
This world today. 

END TRANSCRIPT

Popular posts from this blog

SHUSH

-
Along with the stomping freak who uses the flipside of my ceiling as a floor, the folks with whom I share walls cannot tolerate silence. No, they must blast on repeat any of Billboard’s Year-End Hot 100 singles of 2000 through their respective stereo’s speakers. This, in turn, forces me to blast all of my much less popular music to drown theirs out. It becomes a vicious circle of escalating sound. And perhaps the very point of loud music is to drown out all thought, fear, and pain. These days, who can bear to sit quietly and ponder life—let alone read a book? Indeed, the folks in this city—and perhaps the folks in every city—seemingly do whatever they can to stifle the natural inclination to think. At least, that is my impression. After all, the act of thought —the very act of reflection —necessarily slows production and consumption. And we mustn’t have that, no, no. Besides, we need not contemplate our lack of fulfillment or our actual worthlessness if we are too busy playing video ...
Read more

Ginny

-
10/24/2001 : Would you believe I was standing beneath the lit marquee of the Music Box Theater this evening, reading an Emily Dickinson chapbook? I was, but I was doing a poor job of it. And, no, I wasn’t there specifically to read poetry. But I might’ve been the first dude to read Dickinson at that particular location. And, no, I wasn’t reading it aloud. * In fairness (to me), I hadn’t thought to read it aloud. I bring a book or a magazine along wherever I go, just in case it rains. Gotta have something to hold open over my head. Can’t have a sudden shower muck up my carefully sculpted helmet of hair. And if I want something to read, I’ll take an umbrella. But seriously, it’s all about the waiting. If city life doesn’t cultivate patience, then it definitely cultivates insanity. If I find myself waiting (anywhere) beyond the walls of my apartment without something to read, I’ll end up gazing at the passersby, instead. They might gaze back. They won’t smile, though. Never mind if ...
Read more

S T R E A M # 3 0

-
Start: The dog did not enjoy the tuna casserole, and by “dog” I do not mean Sally’s pet collie, I means Sally’s husband, Al. When we stop to think about the things that do not matter – which is something we often do – then, when the time comes, we check our watches and eat our respective tuna casseroles. We eat the tuna casseroles because we know Grandma would be sad if we did not. Thus, or hence, or hence-thus, the problem becomes one of consumption. Finally, the problem is ALWAYS one of consumption. What do you think about Al’s dilemma with the tuna casserole? Beets are enjoyed by cats in the winter when strawberries are not in bloom. DO strawberries bloom? No. Yes? No. I wouldn’t know. I am not a strawberry farmer. Who told you otherwise? Who led you astray? And why would you believe his or hers or their words over mine? What I feel the next time we meet when you are not sad with happiness in the tuna casserole. I haven’t – I couldn’t tell you about the last time I ate apple sauce i...
Read more