From VALENTINE VICTORIOUS JASPER I been runnin’ girls and dice out the back for years Julian. You know I pay on my rackets and if I fix a fight now and again I pay for that too but Sugar and Salt is my Bread and Butter. The Emerald Room is my livelihood. And a man is entitled to his livelihood. Now I’m a friend to you, Julian. Always have been a friend to you. I treat you well in my club And I appreciate that you kept your hands off it. So I understand I gotta grease the cops extra now considering your position I understand that I been around I ain’t just off the train from Des Moines you know I know good business Grease is good business And good business is good for everybody, But that sonovabitch Reed Ain’t satisfied with business. He comes poking his head around on a Saturday night like he ain’t got a date Said he got an anonymous tip there was a dice game I figure he’s just squeakin’ for grease So I grease him grease his palm with a glad hand and no small bill but he looks at me like I handed him pigshit! He throws it back in my face and carts me downtown for racketeering! You cant give me the short straw no more Julian I wont take it! Your ass is too big for your pants Julian! And I’m sick o’ runnin’ down here to kiss it! DON’T GIMME NO SHORT STRAW
From SEASON ON THE LINE MICKEY I have something. When I was teaching conflict resolution in South Africa, there were three words we worked to define: Racism, Discrimination and Stereotype. First -‐ Stereotypes are beliefs about people based on their community, such as: all British people have bad teeth or all Mexicans are sleepy. They don’t necessarily have to be acted upon, they’re notions we have. Discrimination is using those stereotypes to make decisions. For instance -‐-‐ Australians are all noisy drunks (stereotype), therefore I will not serve this Australian gentleman a drink for fear he will start a row (discrimination). Finally, Racism is institutionalized discrimination based upon racial stereotypes. Racism is specifically something systemic and handed down to the community at-‐large. For instance -‐-‐ black-‐colored people are dirty, stupid, sub-‐human animals (racial stereotype) therefore they can’t use the same restrooms as whites (discrimination) and let’s pass a law in our province making that punishable by whipping (racism). My point is that right now I see some stereotypes and some light discrimination in our production, but I don’t see any racism getting in the way of the American Dream. The only person who has anything specifically taken away from them is Gatsby. From SEASON ON THE LINE FAYE Hello. I feel like I know all of you already. You have been very inspirational to me and I only hope I can impart to you a dram of what you have granted me. You have a great advocate in this man and he has revealed yourselves to me and you have changed me. You see... The intimate self is infinitely porous. The most sensuous human moments are not about opening ourselves -‐ that is exhibitionism -‐ intimacy is when the world calls out to us to let it in and we give ourselves to one another, to the Something Greater that calls us inexorably onwards towards a deeper and deeper understanding of the Other. Intimacy is standing around a vat of spermaceti oil with thirty other people, squeezing the crude together, squeezing random hands, turning the slick, evasive slime between us into something thick and substantial, useful and romantic. It feels like an exorcism, sometimes, consumed by this book as we are. Come a little further in with me... I come here to impart upon you two things that you did not know. First -‐ that Moby-‐Dick was revealed to Herman Melville by none other than God himself, and second, that this book is the first and most sacred text of Baha’i. I’ll leave a copy of the manuscript of my newest book, “Attainable Felicity - Melville and Baha’i”right here. Read it or don’t -‐ I simply want to be able to contribute to this important discussion. If you have any questions, I’ll be floating around, trying to stay out of your ways. I can’t wait to know each of you.
From THE SPARROW JOYCE I know you’re not my daughter, Emily Book. But I’ve been calling you Sweetie Because I want you to feel loved here. I want you to feel safe And I want to kiss you on the head and make you feel loved Even though we don’t know each other yet Because I think that you should have a place where you can feel that way. And I’m sorry if I... I come into Sara’s room when I feel... Because I don’t want to bring that into the rest of the house But this is your room now, Emily, and I won’t bring that in here anymore. I just... I look at you and I... I start to think about What happened It’s not fair to you, and it’s not your fault, but when I look at you I think about Sara I get stuck I want to be better than that for you But I get stuck. What happened that day? The field trip— You were on the bus just before Do you know anything that I don’t know. I just— Do you remember anything? … I can’t remember what she was wearing that day. I helped her get dressed everyday, But I can’t remember what she was wearing that day. Now. I have some spirit boxes for the team downstairs That aren’t going to put themselves together. I would love it if you would come down And sit with me while I pack up spirit boxes And I can put in the cookies And you can put in the pencils and the stickers And we can talk about school Or Boys Or anything you like. How does that sound, Emily?
From THE SPARROW ALBERT ... Listen. Emily. I’m glad you’re here and... ... I’m glad you’re here and I hope you feel like you’re home because ... I feel like you’re home. ... I’m glad you’re home. I didn’t think I’d feel like that So I haven’t been... But I... You make this feel like home. Okay. … You know, you oughta put on a dress and Go down there and just Have a good time and Dance with everybody and It’s the homecoming dance, you know? And you’re home.... So... How’s that poetry? ... And Margaret Rosenthal talked me through that Corsage deal And if you don’t use it I’ll hear about it And Joyce was hoping you’d get your picture taken In a dress and That’s a picture I’d like to have in the house Okay? Okay. I’ll drive you. Just let me know when you’re ready and I’ll be glad to drive you down there. And if it’s no fun I’ll come pick you up. I’ll see you in a minute.
From CURSE OF THE CRYING HEART MIKAKO Before there was light there was Akuma. And just as Gods give us their children so does Akuma. And as the unjust kill the children of Gods so must the righteous destroy the children of Akuma. This is balance, neh? The sword you wear It was forged in the same fire that baptized the Black Ghost last son of Akuma. Akuma gave the sword to the Black Ghost and it hung at his side for centuries. Those who looked on that blade looked on nothing more but the abyss and as long as he held it he could not be beaten. Even now no blade may touch The Black Ghost save his own. You fought with a sword that makes you invincible. It is written that Black Ghost will descend upon Kyoto. It is written that he will seduce those weakened by war and use them to his own design. It is written that he will call for the sword and that the sword will come. We have been waiting for 92 years to intercept the blade and fulfill our part of the prophecy. By delivering the crane to the unfortunate soul who bears the blade. The Black Ghost must be destroyed. He is the Last Son of Akuma.
From THE HAMMER TRINITY OLYMPIA It’s funny, but you know, Ask any out there what they remember of their mothers And each will say the same: Something of her beauty, Something of her keeping house, And then something of her protection. It’s true to the last, I’ve asked them all, As I serve surrogate to thousands I don’t wonder I deserve at least some comfort in what they’ll recall of me when I am gone. As far as beauty carries, I’ve little hope they’ll cite more than my white eye, And though I’m proud to have washed many times my share of laundries It is that third remembrance I wish for most; Mothers make the world right, Even one so base unjust as ours, And yet, We will not sing our way to Justice. Nor will crowning one of us a King Inspire the rest to rise above their troubles Their tragedies are not so fortunately wrought as Casper Kent’s.
From THE HAMMER TRINITY CASPER I claim this hammer, I’ve struck the bell, Am I not your King? I am and I am not, I suppose. Well, I say, if we wish to save ourselves from destruction We must choose a new story. One that takes perspective as its purpose And considers That our words must be weighed against a greater weight than steel Else they sink us into graves. So Stick to the King you’ve claimed, War here as you are, And dissolve yourselves to blood against an army of villains, Or Choose anew, And continue the battle together as heroes all. It’s true, I cannot solve this conflict but I can withstand it, I have proven that much, And if you would stand behind me I will lead a third way through. One that aims us upward toward a point so high It hangs above New Plymouth like a star, And shows this capital to be but the foundation Of our more monumental effort. For our nation is a pyramid, unfinished, but perfect in design And worthy of a never-‐ended labor to achieve it. Progress is slow, yes, But this hammer, our most productive tool, Swings with power so great that it must give the mason pause Lest we strike apart the stones beneath our feet, So though we may spend eons in the climb Providence watches over our ascent And judges it profoundly Good.
From SEASON ON THE LINE AMOS Amos? Right? Poor little Amos? Poor, rich, famous Amos? Do you know? Do you? Do you know who Amos is? I don’t. I made him up. He’s a name. He’s a thing. He’s a profile. A hero. And Amos doesn’t cry. Amos doesn’t quit. Amos doesn’t get talked to like he’s no one. He’s Amos Delaney. He’s Amos. I’m trash. I’m terrible. I’m the worst actor in the room. How can Amos like them? They don’t like Amos. Maybe I can be... before. I can not be Amos, then they won’t know me and they’ll like me and I can like them. It’s because they know me, see? Do you? Do you see? What if, what if I’m not Amos, and we only invite people who don’t know Amos? But the reviewers, the reviewers know Amos. Then we don’t invite them. We don’t. We invite the other reviewers who don’t know us. I know reviewers who don’t know us. They know me. No. No. They know Amos. They know that Amos. Not this Amos. This Amos isn’t in charge, he runs away and breathes in bags, but that Amos -‐-‐ that Amos, he, you know what he did one time? He bought dinner for all the photographers who were following him. And then he bought them all drinks. And then, he stole their cameras and had his guys bury them in the Hollywood Hills.
From THE HAMMER TRINITY DAVY The new king built a shipyard With aim to clear us from the water. As I am your Keeper of the Salt My course was clear. If you mean to mutiny get to it Otherwise somebody speak. What sailor lost at sea could help but heed the lighthouse? Even when he sights the rock himself? It is natural to indulge the illusion That someone other than ourselves will provide for us. But that hope is a siren song. We know this. We have sailed this straight before. We know these waters well. So must we be wrecked again upon this rock Before we claim the right to captain our own course? Or is that dream dried up? Have we Folk forgotten what we are capable of when we stand up on our own two feet? Have we? Then what need we of this “Iron Stag King?” He’s clamored his way to raise the hammer, so be it Good on him But now he demands we sacrifice “for a greater good.” Whose greater good? Not ours. So I say any man worth his Salt kneels only so his brothers And his sisters And above all his children May climb upon his back And reach higher For their own greater good And the good of any who call themselves Crownless! I say we keep the Salt for Havenston’s good and no greater! I say fear not the cost in bread or blood But we declare our independence! And if this King wants to take our Salt I say we make him swim for it!
From THE HAMMER TRINITY KAELAN “Who is Casper Kent?” Art is only useful inasmuch as it concretizes the abstract. The big questions. Life, death, the nature of identity. So I’ve given it this title “Who is Casper Kent?” Here’s the original if you like. I’m content with the larger version. Most folk would find such a portrait Distasteful, But to me it captures something Wonderful. The way the air glimmers by the sun Illuminating the last breath of freedom escaping you. A final moment of truth. Before you were turned subject. You look so much like her. I was a friend of your parents. But of course you wouldn’t believe that. How’s the palette? More water? Tea? Coffee? Something stronger? Cigarette? ... Suit yourself. Where are you on the hammer now? Is it actually heavy or metaphorically? Can anyone lift it? Just you? ... You are your mother’s son. Imagine, That first time The Hand raised the hammer together Nobody knew who was lifting it. Was it Kathryn all along being generous? Or was it one of us being exceptional? Was it all of us together? We each held our opinions But the truth... No one but Kathryn could say And like you she would not. Of course that’s why they killed her. And now here we are, Divided down our middles, Each of us wondering if we’re a hero or a villain in this tale, And so I ask again, Who is Casper Kent? The answer is of paramount importance.
From THE HAMMER TRINITY WILKE My brother Jacob? … Two older, The fun one? He was the last of my brothers to go and fight in the Burn. It was near the end, Hope for the Grass was Lost. And I was old enough to know he wouldn’t likely return. I was so upset. I ran away, In protest or... So he would have to come and find me. He did, and I cried to him, “Why are you leaving? Father’s dead. They’ve killed all our brothers. The Guardians have failed. Why would you go now?” I didn’t understand. He knelt with me And he reminded me that all the Grass were our family And we’d sworn an oath to protect them He gave me his sword and he taught me The oath our Father had taught him: Father of the land, Mother in the sky Brother, Sister, Son and Daughter, Guardians before me be near me now, The enemy before me behind. Hearth of my home Lend me your fire Warm my sword That I may defend my family. Casper is my family. And now that you’re married, you are too. So I will honor my oath And I will defend you as long as I live.
From THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE WIZARD OF OZ TOTO A brief history of the life of Dorothy Gale, up to this point. A powerpoint presentation by Toto, her dog. Dorothy is a girl. She is a good petter and stick thrower. She is in school, where she goes during the day and I wait for her until her aunt, Em, says, “Well Toto, looks like Dorothy’s back from school,” and then I run outside and jump up and down and she scratches the good spot right behind my left ear and I start to wag my foot like crazy. Dorothy sometimes sits with me by the window and talks to me about boys she likes or places she wants to go besides school, but boys never come over and she never seems to go anyplace but school, or Perkins, where she drinks lots of coffee and writes things down in her notebook that I ate one time and it tasted like coffee and she hit me for that, but I deserved it. Dorothy saved my life once. She told me about it. When her parents died, car accident, her Aunt Em told her she could have a dog. She picked me. They would’ve had to put me to sleep if she hadn’t picked me. She saved my life. She told me.