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.
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
It’s just an experiment, but--SEE IF YOU CAN MAKE ANY SENSE OUT OF THIS 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
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,
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--
til I do re-imagine a world complete,
living the rest of my life
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--
Yes. But such plans never came to fruition.
Nevertheless, the name of this proposal
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
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
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.
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
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
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
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"
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
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?
Myself --with myself?
You tell me
I only hear one person talking
I’m not lying down, am I?
(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”.
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
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
OK. Perhaps we should leave you alone after all
Why not. I never said otherwise
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
What is it, really. This sex thing between us. Come on. Are you hungry for me, Maurice?
I want to eat you alive, in fact
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
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
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
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
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
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)
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)
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
At least I get an appology. But I don't get entertainment
Should I go
Would that heighten the entertainment quotient?
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.
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
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
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
Ah, my poor children
I didn't know you had children
Everything that comes from here--
--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
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
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
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
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 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
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
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
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--
That's what I said
And you keep the pen moving over the paper
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
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)
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
Cover your eyes
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.
I'd like to get closer to you
(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
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
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
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?
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
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
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
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
Aren't we going out
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.
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.
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..