Supreme beings: pg


This beginning to die. This lift of the hand

toward faces disappearing in front of my eyes--

call that a snapshot, that erases light,

so that all I am aware of now

is the sound of my own quiet voice

Which is music to my ears, of course

Music to my ears


Escape Maurice. Prove to me such possibility exists--

I’d like that indeed

Prove to me, that you can escape.

Of course.

Prove it.

I should very much like to escape from this city, to a different kind of city, surrounded by men and women amongst whom spiritual issues take prescidence

Prove that you are the greatest escape artist of all, Maurice. Right now, right here-- escape from this city in which no spiritual dimention functions


There's nothing to escape from here. There’s nothing to escape from here!

(Tie him up)

It’s true. There is no escaping.

I believe-- it’s my opinion-- you will be able to escape, Maurice

On the other hand, it’s my opinion that Maurice is unable to escape

Suppose-- Just suppose

That Maurice invented a mental airplane and then climbed inside--.Physically.

Would escape be possible in such a mental airplane?

Too late for that

Oh? Is it that dark already?

Yes. It’s very dark, outside in the streets

But that should make it possible--

Let’s say this darkness in me--

is my starting point.

What's going to reveal itself to Maurice inside this darkness?

Oh, Something breaks through this moment of darkness, that-- I do believe

But it hasn’t happened


Well, of course-- This experiment may not work

What experiment

It’s just an experiment, but--SEE IF YOU CAN MAKE ANY SENSE OUT OF THIS STORY?

What story?

What do I bring back-- from a very long day exploring this city-- ?

The story of my adventures, I suppose

Yes, but now, it’s vanished, I’m afraid

What’s vanished?

Oh please, such a city might have been endless. On the other hand, such a city might have been some. . .terrible disappointment.

Yes, and is that, perhaps-- one of the reasons I so miss having a radio in my room.

Really-- a radio?

If there was a radio in my room I might, now, turning it on for myself,

hear-- intuition-wise--

what I missed, or lost,

in my meticulous exploration turned back upon myself.

Nothing like memory you understand, but instead

--like a a broken me,

inside those cracks

where the wind of real things at last, through a radio--

in here--


til I do re-imagine a world complete,

living the rest of my life

forgetful, asleep,

sensing whatever purpose I picked up accidentally when I slid backwards across the dial-- into some wrong door titled

"obligations through this door please'

and here I am-- in the lost and found department one more time

--unable to decide for myself whether this is really the land of the lost

or instead, the truly--

FOUND -- FOUND, for the first time ever!

It’s true, that in a certain room,

a certain radio is absent.

Once upon a time each room contained a radio.

Now, no radio in no room.

In a certain other rooms

where secret plans were made

to broadcast from tall towers just beyond the limits of this city--

--radio broadcasts?

Yes. But such plans never came to fruition.

Nevertheless, the name of this proposal

was-- Radio

How often before, has a name been so much less than appropriate?

In this case

one could understand why the name Radio was chosen,

even though -- no longer appropriate.

Having once been, to a certain extent, an appropriate name

there was now a pause

in thought.

But amazingly

through that same pause,

thoughts from another space

bled-- leaving the residue of a name.


Yes. A pause.

A silence-- and radio reigned!

And Radio therefore

closed inside itself

--the lost proclivity it broadcast

towards rooms

where those who passed through or entered

or passed through as people

occuping a particular room minus a radio for

brief or extended periods of time

"Radio, radio, radio, radio"


Can I help you?

No. But help me.

---It's one of my favorite words.

No-- let me ammend that--

It's my favorite word.

Almost the same thing

Not quite. Because--

I help --whenever I get help in return

The more times the word help is used in a sentence, the more it helps sometimes.

Helping myself then.

Do help yourself.

Help yourself to the word help, which is how I help myself.


Help yourself to some fresh fruit. Be refreshed

I don't think I should eat right now.


Listen to this. One of the most potent ideas I ever had, ever, was the idea that in the center of the fruit was a pit, and the pit was the radio in the center of the fruit. And then-- the whole fruit --helps the radio in the center of the fruit.

My ear; helps.

My ear was help also.

Does this help? My ear helps.


Have some fruit now

Eat it, or --let it transform itself into the radio that it is, really.


In certain rooms, the fruit placed in bowls which sit on small tables in each such room-- no radios in such rooms, but fruit in such rooms, and in the center of the fruit, is a radio.


Now I remember one of my stories. I imagine walking down the street and seeing the letters painted on the stone wall of the building I pass spelling the word " Radio". Then I imagine a round fruit-- just it's image, painted on a stone wall. And I imagine a ray of energy, traveling through the stone and emerof this thing helps.

What does it help?


It helps me. If I try to say what it helps-- me-- that separates me from myself and that does not help. So I do not explain why it helps, even to myself. I just say and know, it helps. Which is much like being in, or traveling towards, the source of that Radio. Just remembering it, even from inside one of these rooms with no radio, and I don't know if there are many such rooms or only a few-- but it helps.

It helps.

Hello, this is a part of an entire network of such rooms, and it helps.


Self discovery in such a room? This does not seem possible

(bring in)

What's this?

More food

I don't want food


Well, you don't have to watch it, if you’d rather not look

Wait a minute. Is this to eat, or to watch

You can only watch such fruit if you use powerful concentration. Otherwise, appitite wins out eventually-- and it ends up in the bottom of the stomach


Take it away. Quickly please

Whatever you say

--Take it away please


What I said was enough to make it happen. Wait a miute-- do I want a radio in this room? --or will that make it difficult to know whether or not it's me doing the talking

(In radio)

Where shall I put it?

Whatever I say-- happens. This is amazing. But in fact, I'd rather have my dinner delivered




When is soon

The radio could take your mind off such problems

Is that true?


Plug it in but don't turn it on yet

No. You plug it in


Just put it on the table

(done, gone)

Everything I say in words, turns real. What is this in fact. s this

self discovery in this special room?. This does not seem possible.

Is this room that “entire world” you were talking about when you were talking about exploring a particular city?

It could be, I suppose


There are usually doors and windows in such rooms

That’s what confuses me-- doors and windows-- so it’s not really my kind of a room

Ah. Unless it’s totally closed from the ouside world-- the brain doesn’t spin sufficiently?

"Special Talents. Special talents"

(all spin)

In generalk-- the universe uses me, I'm afraid. What that means is-- therefore I have to isolate myself

Then-- it spins

Yes, then it spins me

Ah, You prefer spinning internally of course


Yes. Internally

If I look close, I should be able to see that happening

That ability to look close, that must be a spcial talent of yours

Oh no-- you're the one with the special talent, my friend

I never claimed such things

You didn't have to say anything out loud, not to somebody like me, with special talent


Look, I don’t care, because in a certain sense I am no longer myself

Be happy about that I suppose

Is that what makes you happy? Are you happy


Well-- Smell the flowers,

Don’t make fun of me--

In a certain sense-- they're your flowers

For that reason, I can hardly avoid smelling them-- permeating the room as as they door with overpowering fragrence--


You point is well taken, however. One's NOSE becomes acclimated.

I think we can agree. One more example of the way in which life is continually conspiring against me

We don't really agree about that

(Pause: arrive discipliarians)

OK. From whence arrives my bitterness, my despondancy

I have no idea

(Pause, put him on rack)

I blame the lottery of life for dealing me, genetically, a pre-disposition to such negative emotions.


Among other things--I do not like-- being in front of what I call 'people' and what you call 'myself'. Now-- let us join minds and proceed through this doubling of mind power into a double discovery of double adventure


Nothing comes to mind immediately. So perhaps we need help.


I think there'd be more success if he were in a lying down position, please


Isn't this a dangerously vulnurable position?

Think of it as evoking the image at least, of well-- relaxation

Ah-- lying down --do you fantasize forcing some second body to physically rising from inside my first body --which might then be the collaboration you call fruitful?

What collaboration

Myself --with myself?

You tell me

I did

I only hear one person talking

I’m not lying down, am I?

Try it

(Done, revolve wheel)

Don't think I like this happening.

There isn't much that you DO like around here, am I right?

Oh, he likes having his picture painted in bright colors over a face that’s worn out before it’s time, but the only problem is--

(all have brushes)

--every move of the hand to gratify that uncontrolable desire ends up sputtering backwards--

(all brushes into faces)

--into so many mediocre “where could they be hiding” fresh faces that bear unfortunate resemblance to lots of masterpieces that end up in the trash heap of --”Oh, that missed opportunity” or “ohhhh-- this very similar opportunity missed”.

(Sits up)

That proves to me that I’m talking to a second me-- rising suddenly from my recumbant self--


Then we should shake hands--

(Offers, not taken up. Pause)

Perhaps you need me not-- in order to shake hands with yourself of course.


What adventures you must have had, Maurice

No, he was just looking for entertainment

Certainly not.-- don’t believe that about me-- don’t believe that about me

--OK. His adventures are never the result of running after vulgar entertainments. We agree.

Boredom maybe. But entertainment never the solution-- spiritual hunger? Yes-- the solution. Spiritual starvation--

Have some fruit

OK. On that basis and on that basis alone, I am wiling to speak about my so-called adventures


Go on


Does my face remind you of anything?

While I'm looking at it I can't tell

Then feel free to look elsewhere

(Goes to wall points to picture)

Imagine for a minute that this face was looking at you rather then at the object under observation. Would it frighten you

It might


OK. Perhaps we should leave you alone after all

Why not. I never said otherwise

(Others go)

Jesus-- This is painful. This-- being left alone


Yet why am I left alone?

I know the answer. I drive them away from me because of the intensity of my mental concentration

(One returns)

What is it, really. This sex thing between us. Come on. Are you hungry for me, Maurice?


How much

I want to eat you alive, in fact

All parts?


Including the parts that you and I consider unpleasant sometimes, as well as the obviously pleasant parts?


Who's talking through your mouth at this moment

You're right. I have two levels-- one level that wants to eat you alive, piece by piece-- and the other level that’s revolted by such ideas and opens up to the alternative ache of spiritual hungriness

Ah, you’d like to visit another planet maybe?

Yes. I certainly would like to do that


Not yet. The rest of us don’t think you’re ready yet

Then solve a big problem for me-- How can I make an end of this experience, which is one unsatisfactory experience, with no end in sight, and yet make that very fact -- no end in sight-- be an end,

in and of itself-- and end that is satisfactory as an end to an important stage of my life

--being a fulfilling thing

-- in it's very experience of being not-fulfilling


You see? Who can deal with this?

This is a less than frightening thing to deal with

I’m not so sure of that, because the circulation of my emotions leaves me totally exhausted


Or if not exhausted exactly-- at least with a distaste for what heretofore appealed to me. I.E.-- Every kind of SWEETNESS.

This is not something you have to underatand

but it's my genuine train of thought, God damit

I'm being manipulated by your emotions, which I don’t like


You are very a forceful person

Well, what I like being is persuasive, probably,

But at the very worst, that simply means-- being manipulated by my verbal mechanism.


Perhaps you think your defense is to escape me by not talking


Ah, You talked



A little while ago you were the one who didn’t talk


(she exits)

Ah, there may be no window, but there certainly is a door. And if one person can use it, everybody can use it.

(Goes. Then 1 re-enters. Pause. Then 2 re-enters. Stops, look around the room by turning in place)

This is how I understand the world. And I think my way of understanding the world takes prescidence

(pause, goes)

Not any longer

(Looking back in the room)

I forgot to tell you. I dreamed there's a window in the next room

I know. That’s where the sun is shining, isn’t it?


As far as I'm concerned, that means it's daytime. Which is unimportant to me, because my life is doing it’s best to free itself from the contraints of time passing.


That's what I tell myself-- though it's not a hundred per cent possible-- but I don't care whether or not anything is a hundred per cent possible, because nothing is.

(Pause, others set up Beuy’s tables)

What an adventure I will soon be having--.

Which is just theoretical of course-- but I’ve discovered theories release energies,.


For instance. Let us suppose-- that consciousness is simply a way of lying about the world

--Ah, what energy are we about to release in front of a couple of very suspicious witnesses?

Let's find out, shall we?

You mean. lets let the world outside find out on our behalf--

OK, but is any of this possible if consciousness simply a way of lying about the world?

Please-- we don't want to abandon such a productive theory before it's had a chance to flower into at least a few rare and exotic manifestations

We feel the need for exoticism?

Oh yes. At least I do

Is that because of a jaded pallet?

Maybe-- but I'd rather say because of unceasing mental agility

OK. Consciousness is a way of lying about the world

OK. Does that make the world a friend or an enemy of consciousness?

I see-- it could be--


Consciousness-- a method of insureing privacy


The world, of course, has to be postulated as desiring privacy

Doesn't everybody?

(Exit)(return, sexual)

Well, I wonder what my consciousness is doing. It might be assumed that I know, but I don't really.


I don't know how it schedules other people when they decide leaving the room, just as I don't know equally when it schedules me to take corrective action

(Pause. Re-enter)

You probably thought I was making an intellectial point, leaving when I did, but the fact of the matter is I had something to do elsewhere

You didn't explain that

No. I didn't


Does that mean you’re lying?

No, I had to check something to check out in the next room




Actually, It was a medical somethiong


That’s why I'd like to keep it private

You mean-- somebody asked a question you couldn’t answer

It was my choice

Please, open the same door.


You mean close it first, which I did-- and then open it?

No. Keep opening it all the time

(Pause, woman comes in sex and babies)


What's going on

Come in, because the door is open obviously


Come in, Have a seat

(She does)

Nothing else seems to be happening

This isn't a difference of opinion, this is just-- well, what is this--?

I don't know

I don't know

Then you see? It’s a difference of opinion after all


That's why we have nothing to say to each other


So be it


(She comes, sits, kisses)

Hey! That was a very powerful kiss

(She goes back)

Do we have a difference of opinion?

Don't ask-- and believe me-- it won't start happening


Is it ok if I shut the door now?


Hey-- Did I answer?

No. he just took it upon myself

(She stands, he goes to kiss her)

--Not yet



Open the door.

(He does. She starts to exits, twirls embarassed)

This is hard to do for some reason


(Hangs in door, leans back into room)

This is one version

(Pops out of room)

Now-- I imagine it's up to me alone whether I open it or close it

(Closes, thinks. Opens)

Anybody there?


Well-- no answer, is not really an answer. Somebody could be there-- just --not talking at the present moment.

(Exit, enter, enter)

Are you one of those problematic people who refuses to be at one with the world?

Are you trying to insult me?

You tell me

OK. I don’t thinkit’s really an insult, because the world isn't such that one should ever desire to be at one with such an unpleasant thing

Ah. Is that an insult?

Are you the world?

Well, I'm a little bit of the world


Hum, that could be taken in different ways

At least two, I’d think

Yes, but before 3-4-5 etc, two has to be dealt with


That’s because one is supposed to proceed step by step. In this world at least

As a matter of fact, I can jump way forward directly to step two hundred and twelve

Two hundred and twelve?


What made you jump to that particular number

I have no idea

I mean-- imagining it. But here's a thought. What you really wanted was to go backwards

I would say two hundred and twelve is a long leap forward. Except I see your point. 212 is also 212 backwards

You must have had an unconscious motive

To go backwards



I do have the feeling we're back where we started

A long time ago?

Is that an insult?


Should I feel guilty if I’m unable to drag you forward into some hypothetically desirable future?

It could also be undesirable

No, If it's the future, it's desirable

Even if one only wants to get there, so that one is able then-- to go backwards?


Well I have to admit-- this situation we experience, is revolving very furiously at the center of my particular universe at this particular moment--

and therefore I keep my back turned to it as much as possible. Is this through fear? No. I’d rather call it my deep respect for reality

I don’t think you have so much respect for reality, since you keep turning it upside down for the rest of us.

That makes me smile


It’s just a mood I’m in, isn’t it?. One is always in some kind of mood or other-- but why is that?


Think about this. Leave this planet for a minute and think about things clearly-- Because, there is no atmosphere in space.

That is-- moods of light, cloud, mist-- different atmospheric conditions that create different ambiences-- This does not exist in space-- into which the entire human race is now moving so enthuisastically, right?.

So: does man first arise perhaps, co-incidentially, with a certain kind of atriculation of light and water-- which are the building blocks of atmosphere. Also dust, I suppose, which is earth-- even fire, which creates smoke. Right? The four classical elements. Then-- Man. But consciousnes perhaps, is therefore nothing more than the mirror image of atmosphereic. . .well, the mood of things. Is this possible?

Your ideas are entertaining. but without much connection to reality

Oh? Isn’t life supposed to keep me entertained?

Hello life? Don’t you have an obligation to entertain me?

Should I answer-- playing the part of life, of course

That's the idea

OK. I don't think I, me, life, has any particular obligation to be entertaining

But who exactly put me here, in this particular catagory which is your private domain, evidently

What's my catagory

Everything living. That includes me

You're in my domain



You don't find it entertaining


I appologize

At least I get an appology. But I don't get entertainment

Should I go

Would that heighten the entertainment quotient?

Probably not

Then why go


I better go


Now I'm alone. And in fact, it's more entertaining to be alone than to be frustrated. Thank you, life, for small favors


Once more. Is it more entertaining to be alone than to be frustrated. Well, yes-- in that my mind feels freer. I don't feel constraints on my imagination.

Other returns)

Now I'm less in control

Is this a problem?


In fact, being less in control could be an achievement of sorts

That sounds like an internal contradiction

No. When I say I'm not in control, what I mean is something else has taken over. It's not that I myself have achieved not being in control-- it's that I welcome what something else has been able to do with this raw material occupying this space-- Me. I. Myself--


I too, dream just like you--of being able to philosophize without letting thought have anything to do with it

Of course

Can you tell? I’m looking for a teacher


I think the time is ripe

Oh please. Don't worry about it

Can you psyche out what I'm really talking about?

I don't have an opinion

That means --no

No-- it just means my priorities are different from your priorities


Life keeps changing direction on me

That's an internal contradiction

Well--- maybe , but I don’t see why

Change your priorities

(Pause. Woman exit)


I interpret that as a change in priorities. Also, I interpret that as me losing control, ergo--something external


Don't mis-interpret my decision to go

I have no way of knowing

Well-- what I'm suggesting is-- please feel just a little bit of the internal stasis that I feel

No problem. I can do that

(other goes again)

No. I am strangly resisting the temptation to say to myself-- now, where was I? Instead

I willfully chose to continue being amazed whenever I see the real world, circling around me, because

I can choose to be easily amazed at so many perfectly obvious things--

But instead of that I choose just one or two things to begin with.

I choose this table

I choose to be amazed at this table

It is amazing that this table exists

And now-- it does

(others appearing)

Look, how it's four legs fall from a certain height, in order to rest on the solid ground

I like this, I do like this

And the liking this that I experience, is in fact-- intense enough to be called-- here it comes-- “amazement”


Maybe I struck a deep responsive chord in somebody to whom I was speaking secretly?

That's very possible


Look-- shall we permit ourselves to turn on the appropriate radio?

Weren’t you told? The radio is no longer relevent

Ah, how delightful. “No longer revelent” makes it even more appealing

As a relic?

Not quite. But a way to defind certain idiosyncratic appetites a few of do still share

Ah, the return to bodily functions which I was secretly expecting. Because, from whence arises the possibility of appetite-- even if such hunger is eventually-- spiritualized

You give me an amazing idea


Hunger-- this catagory we’re suddenly talking about. Hunger is a lack, is it not?. Is there any existing something that does not lack, since there is nothing that does not at least ack whatever is total, except the totality which is unfathomable of course. So-- everything --lacks does it not?

What does this table lack


Then you're wrong

Not wrong. But very hungry

I don't follow that


He said he was hungry-- that should be enough

(Presents food)



Ah, my poor children

I didn't know you had children

Everything that comes from here--

(Taps head)

--What part of the body is he pointing to?


The world is beautiful, at times

If you're hungry for the world, the world is beautiful. If you're hungry for something else-- no.

I think I'm hungry for the world

Of course

(food brought)

Be my guest

Come to think of it, I just ate a little while ago

Don't worry. Time will pass-- you'll want more.


Maybe I'll have a taste--

Wait a minute


Earn it


Entertain me. Just for a moment. Just a moment's worth of entertainment


I don't know how


That was it. That was entertaining. Now-- dig in if you like

(Other tastes, stops)

You don't like it?

Somehow, you spoil my appetite by watching me

Ah, that's no excuse-- remember hunger is something you should consider an OBLIGATION


Really. I mean, you have a choice-- perhaps you don't like this particular selection, so we'll see if we can come up with something different

(Food taken)

Please, don't make the effort on my behalf

Don’t you understand? I feel obligated. And whenever I feel obligated-- that’s something I dare not evade. But in the meantime, we can occupy ourselves with other things.




Time will tell.

The future will tell, yes.

But maybe the past will tell even better.

Then the way I put it was right. Time will tell.

Right. Time will tell. But notice how this continual jumping into new ideas-- turns out to be quite predictable? That’s what we’re here for after all-- new idea after new idea after-- it’s allso predictable, isn’t it.

What adventures might superceed that predictibility



Or is this epoch no longer the epoch of adventure

We'll have to do some further explorations to find out

--I hope not

Ah-- there's you adventure

What-- I hope not? Not hoping-- that’s an adventure?



Me-- I still hope



But I wonder if another word could be provoked. A different word

Different than "yes"


In my case-- I doubt it

If only you belonged to the right species, you could perhaps jump over yourself

Ah-- I’d be in line for a promotion

Promotion? I don't think so

What's my line of work

In my opinion?


I don't want to share that with you

Why not

I’m afraid it might interfere with self devolpment

That statement is especialy designed to provoke me

See? My own species has been identified



Not exactly


Not at all


Just because a kangeroo leaps himself across the landscape-- don't think I'm capable of doing anything so spectacular

Ah, but in your dreams?

In my dreams, I am all things to all people

Even me

Even you

Then I've lost the animal quize

Don't worry. There'll be others, my dear.and there’s always a surprise lesson waiting to be discovered--

Don't promise me a surprise because then I won't be able to recognize it

That's the surprise


Let me just close my eyes and imagine I'm crossing a green field. In the sunlight? No, it's overcast-- You see what's happening. I'm trying to surprise myself and I can't

That's why I help

Trying to be on my side by turning against me?

Against both of us

That was supposed to surprise me?

I admit that's possible.

Because what are the alternatives

Giving up?

Is this must be a retroactive decision?

Yes. I gave up

I give up now



It's the same

If it's the same thing, it isn't a surprise



That makes it a surprise? What are you writing

(Writes, stops)

Wise men have known all along, that all I had to do was keep the pen in motion over the paper

You mean-- they've known that all THEY had to do--



Wise men

That's what I said

All right


And you keep the pen moving over the paper

I've stopped


Not for the reason you imagine


In fact-- my wrist is giving me pain

Well, you told me that, so now it IS for the reason I think.

Right. But you can’t do anything more than IMAGINE the pain, apparently


If you read what I wrote, would you be capable of imagining that also--?

Possibly. Unless what you wrote is really something that is really, deeply-- beyond me

I don't think I could pull that off

I don't either

Does anything hurt



My wrist


See how I'm smiling? It's just an idea that came to me. My wrist doesn't really hurt

You respond to your environment

Yes I do


But you respond to your environment in a very particular way that might be yours alone

Well, my 'environment', seen as a totality, might be mine alone also

I don't share it?

Not a hundred percent

Of course not


That means I'm free to go

(Does, Girl now alone)


Ah. Now we share being alone-- one hundred percent


Jesus christ-- am I here alone finally? Well I can hardly claim to have erased every mental residue, so when I'm talking to myself, it isn't really.

This-- universe of mine is still


relatively well populated

(whirls and falls)


Did you fall

Yes-- how the hell did you know that

Well, I heard a thud


That's one explination

Do you have another?

Maybe we're well attuned

Of course we're well attuned


Well, then I don't need you here

Ok. I get it



I'll need you here sometimes. Later. But not all the time

(Sits, picks up newspaper-- reads-- toss away)

This crap isn't what I wanted

(Presses temples: other looks in)

Go away.


Go away

No. Look at the wall


Look at the picture of a flower on the wall

(done, she looks away: Pause)

Do you feel the need to look at it again


I wonder if it's still there

(, looks, closes)

Yes. It ‘s still there

Then look away from it again

Decisions, decisions.--

Cover your eyes


Uncover them


Is anything different?


This is a superficial perspective, my dear--

There are two sides to every question and there are two sides to every perspective and I'm finding out they balance each other perfectly

You mean completely

You use words differently than I do.

(Pause, quietly)

I'd like to get closer to you

--Back off


I'll demonstrate

(Goes, others in other door)

Into what special loophole, do I apparently project all my verbal energy

I can't pick up on it

Oh yes, you mangage to change the subject

Does everything "click in' yet?

If you change the subject, why not?


That leaves a wide open field

Careful, I'm probably going to overpower you no matter what direction you try heading into

Maybe we also find loopholes

I'll be in and out ahead of you

After that it'll be my space for a change

Breathe easy

I will

I mean now

Then shut up


Ah, look at that nothing's moving

You need my imput

Her verbal pyrotechniques seem to be lighting up my personal landscape, god damn it

Give thanks--

He does, but that doesn't eliminate mixed emotions


Ah, you use words differently than I do

Go ahead. Hit me


I don't like following orders

Hit me.

(Pause. Exits)

Come back so I can hit you


Well. Thank god this hand didn't have to offend anybody

(Pause, looks, then puts it under dress)

What are you doing?


Hit me


Too bad. I see your hands are otherwise occupied.


close call for me.

(Exit. Pause. She comes. He in other door midway)

What was the first thing you noticed when you came to this city

I noticed how it was familar but confusing

Thank you


That confirms my own understanding



Then you don't mean understanding


For a while, I was able to tune in information on the radio. Then it didn’t help, even though it was the same information


I mean -- something I couldn’t put my finger on --but my head kept turning the right direction

Thank you


This is amazing


I’m not frightened of things

No, I'm not frightened of things


Even though we're still confused about certain things

We like that

If I went downstair, and stepped out the front door at this moment, how would I know in which direction to circulate

It would depend on your inner proclivities

I'd like to find a nice resturant


No, I'm talking about the ambience

Ah, what kind of people do you want to be surrounded by--

No-- I only want the resturant to have one or two other customers. You see I don't want to be alone, but I don't want OUTSIDE brain activity to be oppressing my own brain activity


You just described an unresolveable paradox


You can't think unless somebody else helps

I didn't say I wanted to do any THINKING

Oh? Try putting a stop to it


You can do that?


I don't think you can do that


If I could find such a resturant, I could find out

What would you order

I said I wasn't hungry

I think they'd throw you out if you didn't order something

Physically-- throw me out?


I'll order coffee


I'll order hors d'oeuvres


Like cheeze

That sounds like after dinner, rather than hors d'oeuvers

Then I won't order cheese


Because I won't be having dinner--

Where do these ideas come from?


You're right. I couldn’t develope my ideas all by myself

You see?

Go away--

Aren't we going out

Go away

To a resturant?




I don't know my way around this city. I'd get lost

Where are you now



In this room

Where is that. I mean in relation to the plan of this city as a totality

I don't know the city as a totality

Then you're lost right now

In a sense

(drum roll in distance)

I can tell you something about it.


I can tell you that while we sit here-- isolated-- legions are in the streets

I don’t believe it

Look out the window

There is no window

Turn on the radio

It doesn’t work

Try it. Maybe now it works.

(Pause) Goes)


Legions, legions are in the streets

See? Now it works


Pay attention. Legions are in the streets

What made it work, suddenly--

Necessity. The necessity of the situation, I believe--


Legions, legions, legions are in the streets, which one may effectively count, now-- testifying to that reality-- legions-- storming the streets, now filling the streets, so that he, she, they, may finally decide (--but is this really a decision) to inhabit what were known heretofore as public places, turning them into the guise of what could hereafter be known as living rooms, dining rooms, bed rooms.

--The full--paraphernalia, the improvisation, all gently moved under by the imagination; the breeze that slides under all things until that mental rush, gentle as always-- softens all enterprise into what memory alone --heretofore presented-- in more agreeable and disembodied form.

--legions upon legions-- invoking such great numbers that process begins devouring each possible series of events. So that generalization becomes not just acceptable-- but the most delicate accomplishment of the human mind-- grey, webbed matter rolling back and forth, over itself like coils of some intestinal machine-- two coils, for such a machine, one for material food

--and one for mental food, and the two foods, similarly processed, similarly ejected from the body after the corresponding nutrients, are extracted, fed, digested--.

And the notions that such legions drop from the mind, ideas to populate a world which of course-- now a dead though tumultuous world, here on the streets-- except, wait a minute-- look at these streets themselves, coiling in directions that echo each other and circle something no longer present, which means-- Ah-- What digestive system herein operates?

Because the natural body is invisible ---to those legions who cry in the darkness us, us, us!

And the natural mind in invisible also-- to the network of useless ideas spewing forth, coagulating into so many gutless concepts as persona, soul, spirit, unconscious --with a name for each of them that turns each of them properly upside down).

And these invisible streets are the system, indeed, of streets so named when the idea of place--

is transcended by the idea of digestion,

and the living rooms, dining rooms, bed rooms that have been inside and hidden become spread and hidden

within the center of activity that has no real beginning

and no real end.

So can the Mind now, spin totally released-- totally self-coiled on every level of its being, bleeding back into the fallen world, with every one of its pure aspects discarded:

into the rubble city that results, chewed into nothingness, while the real and empty nothingness of the Mind

rises, like a giant ballon

over the city in which legions

legions in the streets

running after something they see rising into the sky,

but each individual-- easily distracted

falls back into oneself at the end of tumultuous day,

and two or three acquaintances stand at the edge of a river

and watch things disappearing in the sky,

giving a name (which is usually incorrect) to each idea

as it disappears.

Until finally

someone with a superiour mind passes by accidentally--

makes a few corrections,

and the others-- go off --

attacted to some new distraction, at the end of the street,

reassured that replacements

can forever be augmented by new replacements.

And the superious mind smiles along with the rest of them, saying --look, see how easy it is to do things

just for the mysterious pleasure doing things?

But someone, still hungery, objects--

"Wasn’t much more involved here then simple--" But the one with the superior mind-- what a joke--

puts his finger to his lips and the other

fall really silent this time

and for a long time after..