You need cheering up, Arthur, says David. Come with us to First Dog on the Moon. It's bound to be funny.
Yes, come on, says Vello. We'll shout you a ticket.
Alright says Arthur. Thanks.
I like First Dog, says Gaius, half rising.
So do I, says Margaret.
Gaius sits down.
Why don't you go and get another beer, Margaret, says Gaius. Since Arthur drank yours.
That was yours, says Margaret. Would you like another?
Yes, please, says Gaius.
Margaret goes back to the bar.
Drat the woman, says Gaius. She can't take a hint.
You didn't give her a hint, says Vello. Why don't you just come with us. The show starts in twenty minutes.
I can't leave without telling her, says Gaius. Or can I?
But it's too late. Margaret is back.
........
Vello, David and Arthur, in the front row of the Pig Tales tent, wait for the show to begin. It is extremely hot in the tent and there is just one large fan.
First Dog stands on the stage sweating, in green tartan shorts, also waiting for the show to begin. He is a well known political cartoonist. He sketches the people in the front row on his computer and the drawing comes up on a screen. He draws David and Vello, then Arthur.
That's you, Arthur, says David, nudging Arthur. You look like a fox.
Marginally better than a cockroach, says Arthur.
That's how he draws Julia Gillard, says Vello.
Like a cockroach? says Arthur.
No, says Vello. Like a fox.
The show starts. It is funny. First Dog explains why we are too stupid to vote. We pay too much attention to our feelings, and allow ourselves to be distracted by cute furry animals.
He does an interpretive dance. To perform the dance, he wears bandicoot ears, and a tail.
Arthur feels strangely relaxed.
There's nothing wrong with being part animal, thinks Arthur. In fact it's political and smart.
........
When the show is over, David receives a phone call.
That was mother, says David, with a groan. She wants me to go to East Blaxland. She has to mind the children again. But if I go I'll miss a week of the Fringe!
I'll go, says Arthur. Why not? I went with her last time. Great place for a cockroach.
David throws up his arms. Thank you dear Arthur! He kisses Arthur on the forehead.
I say Arthur, says David, your forehead is awfully hard.
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Like The Fellow In Kafka
Margaret is ordering drinks at the Caravan Bar in the Tuxedo Cat when Arthur arrives.
Over here, Arthur! says Gaius. Sit down. What's the matter?
Arthur sits down.
I have cockroach DNA, shudders Arthur.
Good heavens! says Gaius. How do you know?
Professor Donnellan told me, says Arthur. I need a stiff drink.
Margaret comes over with two glasses of beer.
Arthur grabs one and swallows it down in one gulp.
So you're Arthur, says Margaret. How did the Sprigg Lecture go?
Arthur's had some bad news, Margaret, says Gaius. He's learned he has cockroach DNA.
Nonsense, says Margaret. It's a misunderstanding.
Arthur looks hopeful.
No, says Gaius. I have heard of such things.
Arthur looks glum.
You know how I detest tomatoes, says Gaius.
Indeed I do, says Margaret. Those sandwiches I brought to our picnic that you wouldn't touch.....
With good reason, says Gaius. They modify tomatoes with cockroach DNA to harden their skins for tranportation.
Rubbish! says Margaret. They don't! And even if they do, it should not affect Arthur.
He does eat tomatoes, says Gaius. I've seen him.
Arthur resolves never to eat one again.
Now Arthur, says Gaius. Did you obtain an answer to my question?
No, says Arthur. I was too upset to ask.
What was it? asks Margaret.
It was this, says Gaius. Are caterpillar DNA and butterfly DNA the same? A fascinating question. What a pity, we shall never know the answer.
I know the answer, says Margaret. They are the same. The organism contains DNA that encodes both body forms.
This answer is not encouraging for Arthur.
Can a woman be any more irritating? thinks Gaius. And undoubtedly wrong.
He is about to challenge Margaret's answer when Vello and David come in.
Hello Arthur! Feeling better ? says David. Oh, Margaret, hello......
Well, we've got to run, says Vello.
You've only just got here, says Margaret. Sit down and cheer up poor Arthur. He thinks he's turning into a cockroach.
Ha ha, says Vello. Like that fellow in Kafka. Don't worry Arthur. It's all for the best. Have you ever seen a cockroach in a bandage .....?
Yes, says Arthur. It's still in my pocket.
Over here, Arthur! says Gaius. Sit down. What's the matter?
Arthur sits down.
I have cockroach DNA, shudders Arthur.
Good heavens! says Gaius. How do you know?
Professor Donnellan told me, says Arthur. I need a stiff drink.
Margaret comes over with two glasses of beer.
Arthur grabs one and swallows it down in one gulp.
So you're Arthur, says Margaret. How did the Sprigg Lecture go?
Arthur's had some bad news, Margaret, says Gaius. He's learned he has cockroach DNA.
Nonsense, says Margaret. It's a misunderstanding.
Arthur looks hopeful.
No, says Gaius. I have heard of such things.
Arthur looks glum.
You know how I detest tomatoes, says Gaius.
Indeed I do, says Margaret. Those sandwiches I brought to our picnic that you wouldn't touch.....
With good reason, says Gaius. They modify tomatoes with cockroach DNA to harden their skins for tranportation.
Rubbish! says Margaret. They don't! And even if they do, it should not affect Arthur.
He does eat tomatoes, says Gaius. I've seen him.
Arthur resolves never to eat one again.
Now Arthur, says Gaius. Did you obtain an answer to my question?
No, says Arthur. I was too upset to ask.
What was it? asks Margaret.
It was this, says Gaius. Are caterpillar DNA and butterfly DNA the same? A fascinating question. What a pity, we shall never know the answer.
I know the answer, says Margaret. They are the same. The organism contains DNA that encodes both body forms.
This answer is not encouraging for Arthur.
Can a woman be any more irritating? thinks Gaius. And undoubtedly wrong.
He is about to challenge Margaret's answer when Vello and David come in.
Hello Arthur! Feeling better ? says David. Oh, Margaret, hello......
Well, we've got to run, says Vello.
You've only just got here, says Margaret. Sit down and cheer up poor Arthur. He thinks he's turning into a cockroach.
Ha ha, says Vello. Like that fellow in Kafka. Don't worry Arthur. It's all for the best. Have you ever seen a cockroach in a bandage .....?
Yes, says Arthur. It's still in my pocket.
Monday, February 25, 2013
The Sprigg Lecture And The Lascivious Choir
Arthur doesn't know he is sitting next to Alexis. Alexis knows it is him.
Jane Lomax-Smith introduces Professor Steve Donnellan, the speaker.
Steve stands up, ready to speak.
Alexis catches his eye, and points unobtrusively at Arthur.
Steve nods, and begins his talk on The Frozen Zoo.
Downstairs in the basement the museum has multiple fridges, in which we keep one hundred and thirty thousand tissue samples, says Steve. These are samples of tissue from plants, birds and animals, some of which are extinct. For example the Southern Gastric Brooding Frog, and the Long-Eared Mouse. Now imagine how valuable these tissue samples will be ............
Arthur is bored. He looks up at the crocodile. He looks at the walls. These are covered with masks and spears and ritual objects belonging to Pacific Island Cultures. He dreams of being elsewhere
What did Gaius ask him to come for? Oh yes, he has a DNA question.
The talk ends and there is time for questions.
Arthur stands up. He is given a microphone.
My name is Arthur, says Arthur.
With the cockroach DNA! says Steve. I remember. What is your question?
Arthur is utterly confounded. What? He has cockroach DNA?
He can't even remember the question.
..............
Meanwhile Gaius is sitting uncomfortably close to Margaret, in a stuffy dark theatre watching Choir Girl, for of course they have let him go in.
The young woman on stage performs a comic monologue about joining a choir, in which things go wrong.
Suddenly a choir of eight female voices comes in from behind.
Bay-buh! Bay-buh! They sing.
They come on to the stage wearing big maroon dresses, white stockings, flat shiny black shoes.
When the monologue's theme becomes somewhat erotic, the choir writhe and flap their skirts suggestively and sing in a lascivious fashion.
Margaret laughs, she thinks it is funny. She was once in a choir.
Gaius wonders if he would laugh too, if she wasn't there.
It's over, the audience claps, everyone files out.
That was lovely, says Margaret, fanning her face with the stub of her ticket. Did you enjoy it? Why don't we go for a drink.
Can't says Gaius. I'm meeting Arthur.
More the merrier, says Margaret. Woo hoo!
Jane Lomax-Smith introduces Professor Steve Donnellan, the speaker.
Steve stands up, ready to speak.
Alexis catches his eye, and points unobtrusively at Arthur.
Steve nods, and begins his talk on The Frozen Zoo.
Downstairs in the basement the museum has multiple fridges, in which we keep one hundred and thirty thousand tissue samples, says Steve. These are samples of tissue from plants, birds and animals, some of which are extinct. For example the Southern Gastric Brooding Frog, and the Long-Eared Mouse. Now imagine how valuable these tissue samples will be ............
Arthur is bored. He looks up at the crocodile. He looks at the walls. These are covered with masks and spears and ritual objects belonging to Pacific Island Cultures. He dreams of being elsewhere
What did Gaius ask him to come for? Oh yes, he has a DNA question.
The talk ends and there is time for questions.
Arthur stands up. He is given a microphone.
My name is Arthur, says Arthur.
With the cockroach DNA! says Steve. I remember. What is your question?
Arthur is utterly confounded. What? He has cockroach DNA?
He can't even remember the question.
..............
Meanwhile Gaius is sitting uncomfortably close to Margaret, in a stuffy dark theatre watching Choir Girl, for of course they have let him go in.
The young woman on stage performs a comic monologue about joining a choir, in which things go wrong.
Suddenly a choir of eight female voices comes in from behind.
Bay-buh! Bay-buh! They sing.
They come on to the stage wearing big maroon dresses, white stockings, flat shiny black shoes.
When the monologue's theme becomes somewhat erotic, the choir writhe and flap their skirts suggestively and sing in a lascivious fashion.
Margaret laughs, she thinks it is funny. She was once in a choir.
Gaius wonders if he would laugh too, if she wasn't there.
It's over, the audience claps, everyone files out.
That was lovely, says Margaret, fanning her face with the stub of her ticket. Did you enjoy it? Why don't we go for a drink.
Can't says Gaius. I'm meeting Arthur.
More the merrier, says Margaret. Woo hoo!
Sunday, February 24, 2013
In And Out of The Tuxedo Cat
It is now evening, at the SA Museum. Steve has asked the young woman on the door to keep an eye out for Arthur, and not let him in.
Arthur strolls up to the door.
Your name please? says the young woman.
Arthur, says Arthur. Arthur Rimbaud.
I can't let you in, says the young woman. You're not on the list.
I am, says Arthur. That's my name right there.
He points to his name in red pen.
Alright, says the young woman, you are on the list. But it's the wrong list.......
Arthur gives her the heart melting blue stare that usually gets him his way.
Oh alright, says the young woman, shifting her stance. Just make sure you sit at the back.
Arthur is in.
Wisely refusing a glass of free Bundaleer wine, he goes straight up the stairs to the Pacific Cultures Gallery, and sits down under the woven straw crocodile, in the very front row.
......
Across the road at the Tuxedo Cat, Gaius waits for the call to see Choir Girl.
He sits on a packing case drinking a flute of free water.
Gaius! Fancy seeing you here! says a loud female voice.
Oh no! Can it be MARGARET?
Margaret sits down beside him.
I thought you'd be at the Sprigg Lecture, says Margaret.
I thought YOU would, says Gaius.
Did you have a nice time in Alice Springs? asks Margaret. Did you find the Impossible Varan or whatever it was?
Gaius senses the question is not totally cordial.
Yes yes, says Gaius. It's no place for a woman out there. That's why I took Arthur.
Right, says Margaret. And then when you got back you went straight off to Middleton. Looking for stick insects, if I'm not wrong.
Yes yes, mutters Gaius. Where is this leading?
Calling people for CHOIR GIRL! shouts somebody loudly.
Margaret stands up.
What dastardly luck. Margaret is going to Choir Girl as well!
How serendipitous! says Margaret. We can sit next to each other.
Gaius looks down at his still bespeckled ticket. Maybe they won't let him in.......
Arthur strolls up to the door.
Your name please? says the young woman.
Arthur, says Arthur. Arthur Rimbaud.
I can't let you in, says the young woman. You're not on the list.
I am, says Arthur. That's my name right there.
He points to his name in red pen.
Alright, says the young woman, you are on the list. But it's the wrong list.......
Arthur gives her the heart melting blue stare that usually gets him his way.
Oh alright, says the young woman, shifting her stance. Just make sure you sit at the back.
Arthur is in.
Wisely refusing a glass of free Bundaleer wine, he goes straight up the stairs to the Pacific Cultures Gallery, and sits down under the woven straw crocodile, in the very front row.
......
Across the road at the Tuxedo Cat, Gaius waits for the call to see Choir Girl.
He sits on a packing case drinking a flute of free water.
Gaius! Fancy seeing you here! says a loud female voice.
Oh no! Can it be MARGARET?
Margaret sits down beside him.
I thought you'd be at the Sprigg Lecture, says Margaret.
I thought YOU would, says Gaius.
Did you have a nice time in Alice Springs? asks Margaret. Did you find the Impossible Varan or whatever it was?
Gaius senses the question is not totally cordial.
Yes yes, says Gaius. It's no place for a woman out there. That's why I took Arthur.
Right, says Margaret. And then when you got back you went straight off to Middleton. Looking for stick insects, if I'm not wrong.
Yes yes, mutters Gaius. Where is this leading?
Calling people for CHOIR GIRL! shouts somebody loudly.
Margaret stands up.
What dastardly luck. Margaret is going to Choir Girl as well!
How serendipitous! says Margaret. We can sit next to each other.
Gaius looks down at his still bespeckled ticket. Maybe they won't let him in.......
Saturday, February 23, 2013
Transmogrification of Matter
Spit it out, Alexis, says Steve. One cockroach or two?
At least two, says Alexis, consulting her notes. A French one, quite old but with young DNA, and and English one with an interest in paleontology and a nose full of dust.
Gaius is pleased to hear this result, which exonerates him.
Two cockroaches, just as he thought.
But wait! A French one? An English one? What is this all about?
Paul is unimpressed.
Thank you, Alexis, he says. May I have my hankie back now?
No, sorry Paul, says Alexis. It's now part of our tissue collection. It won't be allowed out of the fridge unless you submit a written request.
Wonderful, says Paul. That was my Catalyst hankie.
Which one was the French one, just as a matter of interest? asks Gaius.
There was evidence of the French and the English in both of the samples, says Alexis.
Problem? says Steve.
Indeed, says Gaius. I do not see how that can possibly be. Unless one believes in the transmogrification of matter.
He turns to Alexis.
You said AT LEAST two? he asks her. What else did you find?
Oh evidence of wine, blood, crisps, mucous, and an Australian cockroach, says Alexis. The samples were highly contaminated as no doubt you already knew.
I knew, says Paul, that's why I wasn't planning to come here.
Gaius has had quite enough of this nonsense.
I'm off then, says Gaius. Thank you Alexis for your efforts. Thank you Steve, I hope the Sprigg Lecture goes well.
Pity you aren't able to come, says Steve. You'd enjoy it. The lecture is called Frozen Zoo.
I'll send young Arthur along, if I can find him, says Gaius. He is my right hand man.
Paul raises an eyebrow at Steve, and shakes his head almost imperceptibly.
He mouths the words: DON'T LET HIM IN.
At least two, says Alexis, consulting her notes. A French one, quite old but with young DNA, and and English one with an interest in paleontology and a nose full of dust.
Gaius is pleased to hear this result, which exonerates him.
Two cockroaches, just as he thought.
But wait! A French one? An English one? What is this all about?
Paul is unimpressed.
Thank you, Alexis, he says. May I have my hankie back now?
No, sorry Paul, says Alexis. It's now part of our tissue collection. It won't be allowed out of the fridge unless you submit a written request.
Wonderful, says Paul. That was my Catalyst hankie.
Which one was the French one, just as a matter of interest? asks Gaius.
There was evidence of the French and the English in both of the samples, says Alexis.
Problem? says Steve.
Indeed, says Gaius. I do not see how that can possibly be. Unless one believes in the transmogrification of matter.
He turns to Alexis.
You said AT LEAST two? he asks her. What else did you find?
Oh evidence of wine, blood, crisps, mucous, and an Australian cockroach, says Alexis. The samples were highly contaminated as no doubt you already knew.
I knew, says Paul, that's why I wasn't planning to come here.
Gaius has had quite enough of this nonsense.
I'm off then, says Gaius. Thank you Alexis for your efforts. Thank you Steve, I hope the Sprigg Lecture goes well.
Pity you aren't able to come, says Steve. You'd enjoy it. The lecture is called Frozen Zoo.
I'll send young Arthur along, if I can find him, says Gaius. He is my right hand man.
Paul raises an eyebrow at Steve, and shakes his head almost imperceptibly.
He mouths the words: DON'T LET HIM IN.
Friday, February 22, 2013
An Insight Into The Tedious Side Of Museum Work
Let's clean up those tickets, says Steve. Give them to me. Hmm, this might be tricky.
Tell me about it, says Gaius. I tried a wet cloth, but the printing started coming off, so I stopped.
Ah yes, says Steve, tickets are no use if they're blank. I'll show you what we do here at the museum. Same as they do at the library. Cockroaches shit on books all the time, the spines usually, it's disgusting.....
This is all very interesting, says Paul, but I need to get back to my office. Can we just test these samples of tissue?
Yes, yes, says Steve. I'll send them downstairs. It may take a few minutes. Would you two like a coffee?
Yes please, says Paul. A skinny latte.
Yes, thank you, says Gaius. White with one.
Steve orders the coffees and calls someone to come up for the samples.
Right, that's underway, says Steve. Now watch this.
He takes some very fine sandpaper out of a drawer and rubs it gently over the faecal spots on the tickets.
Choir Girl! says Steve. You surprise me.
I like a bit of singing, says Gaius.
Did you forget the Sprigg Lecture was on? says Steve, rubbing a little too hard. Oops! Sorry. This isn't working. I'll try option two.
He takes out a bottle of bleach, and a wipe.
Bleach, says Paul. That's a bit drastic.
Not if you're careful, says Steve. He tips bleach on the wipe and dabs cautiously at the green and brown spots. He stops. They don't look any different.
What's option three? says Paul. White Out?
Acrylic paint, says Steve. We must find the right match. Let's see, these tickets are white and pale blue. Let me look in the cupboard. Oh dear I don't have any blue. I'll just call up the library....
This is becoming quite tedious.
Fortunately there is a knock on the door.
Two coffees arrive, fresh from the Balaena Cafe.
And then there is another knock on the door. It's a young woman in a lab coat.
I have the results of the tissue testing for you, Professor Donnellan, she says.
Thanks, Alexis! That was quick, says Steve.
Tell me about it, says Gaius. I tried a wet cloth, but the printing started coming off, so I stopped.
Ah yes, says Steve, tickets are no use if they're blank. I'll show you what we do here at the museum. Same as they do at the library. Cockroaches shit on books all the time, the spines usually, it's disgusting.....
This is all very interesting, says Paul, but I need to get back to my office. Can we just test these samples of tissue?
Yes, yes, says Steve. I'll send them downstairs. It may take a few minutes. Would you two like a coffee?
Yes please, says Paul. A skinny latte.
Yes, thank you, says Gaius. White with one.
Steve orders the coffees and calls someone to come up for the samples.
Right, that's underway, says Steve. Now watch this.
He takes some very fine sandpaper out of a drawer and rubs it gently over the faecal spots on the tickets.
Choir Girl! says Steve. You surprise me.
I like a bit of singing, says Gaius.
Did you forget the Sprigg Lecture was on? says Steve, rubbing a little too hard. Oops! Sorry. This isn't working. I'll try option two.
He takes out a bottle of bleach, and a wipe.
Bleach, says Paul. That's a bit drastic.
Not if you're careful, says Steve. He tips bleach on the wipe and dabs cautiously at the green and brown spots. He stops. They don't look any different.
What's option three? says Paul. White Out?
Acrylic paint, says Steve. We must find the right match. Let's see, these tickets are white and pale blue. Let me look in the cupboard. Oh dear I don't have any blue. I'll just call up the library....
This is becoming quite tedious.
Fortunately there is a knock on the door.
Two coffees arrive, fresh from the Balaena Cafe.
And then there is another knock on the door. It's a young woman in a lab coat.
I have the results of the tissue testing for you, Professor Donnellan, she says.
Thanks, Alexis! That was quick, says Steve.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Knowing Cockroaches Inside And Out
The next morning Paul is in his office. There is a knock on the door.
Come in! says Paul.
Good morning, says Gaius. I have come to observe.
Observe what? says Paul, who has forgotten what happened last night.
The examination of the evidence, says Gaius. Are you ready to go?
Ahh! says Paul, remembering. The evidence! Oh I don't think we need to bother, do you? The cleaners have been in, and ......
You are not getting out of it so easily, says Gaius. I insist on accompanying you to the SA Museum to present the two samples for an independent decision.
But I'm busy, says Paul.
I' m not leaving, says Gaius. My reputation is at stake.
Alright says Paul, getting the two sealed plastic bags out of the top drawer of his desk. Here's the evidence. Let's go.
They leave the Science Exchange, walk down Exchange Place and along Grenfell Street to Gawler Place, then through to North Terrace and finally arrive at the SA Museum.
Paul asks to see Professor Steve Donnellan.
He's out, says the person on the desk.
Never mind then, some other time, says Paul.
We'll wait, says Gaius. Let's sit down in the foyer and look at the whale bones. I never get tired of looking at bones, and these bones are particularly lovely.
I have to agree with you there, says Paul. I'm a paleontologist myself, I love bones.
They sit in the foyer looking lovingly up at the bones.
Professor Steve Donnellan comes in through the glass doors, with a takeaway coffee.
Paul! says Steve. What are you doing here?
It's a long story, says Paul, but I want you to look at some tissue samples, if you wouldn't mind, and tell me if they're from the same creature.
How fascinating! says Steve. Is it a crocodile?
No, interrupts Gaius. Two cockroaches.
Steve notices Gaius for the first time.
Gaius! says Steve. Wonderful to see you again! Are you coming to my lecture tonight? The Sprigg?
Unfortunately I can't, says Gaius. I'm going to a Fringe event at the Tuxedo Cat. That's if I can clean up this ticket.
What's happened to your ticket? asks Steve.
It's covered with cockroach droppings, says Gaius. And they are the dickens to get off.
Come into my office both of you, says Steve. It just happens I know cockroaches inside and out.
Come in! says Paul.
Good morning, says Gaius. I have come to observe.
Observe what? says Paul, who has forgotten what happened last night.
The examination of the evidence, says Gaius. Are you ready to go?
Ahh! says Paul, remembering. The evidence! Oh I don't think we need to bother, do you? The cleaners have been in, and ......
You are not getting out of it so easily, says Gaius. I insist on accompanying you to the SA Museum to present the two samples for an independent decision.
But I'm busy, says Paul.
I' m not leaving, says Gaius. My reputation is at stake.
Alright says Paul, getting the two sealed plastic bags out of the top drawer of his desk. Here's the evidence. Let's go.
They leave the Science Exchange, walk down Exchange Place and along Grenfell Street to Gawler Place, then through to North Terrace and finally arrive at the SA Museum.
Paul asks to see Professor Steve Donnellan.
He's out, says the person on the desk.
Never mind then, some other time, says Paul.
We'll wait, says Gaius. Let's sit down in the foyer and look at the whale bones. I never get tired of looking at bones, and these bones are particularly lovely.
I have to agree with you there, says Paul. I'm a paleontologist myself, I love bones.
They sit in the foyer looking lovingly up at the bones.
Professor Steve Donnellan comes in through the glass doors, with a takeaway coffee.
Paul! says Steve. What are you doing here?
It's a long story, says Paul, but I want you to look at some tissue samples, if you wouldn't mind, and tell me if they're from the same creature.
How fascinating! says Steve. Is it a crocodile?
No, interrupts Gaius. Two cockroaches.
Steve notices Gaius for the first time.
Gaius! says Steve. Wonderful to see you again! Are you coming to my lecture tonight? The Sprigg?
Unfortunately I can't, says Gaius. I'm going to a Fringe event at the Tuxedo Cat. That's if I can clean up this ticket.
What's happened to your ticket? asks Steve.
It's covered with cockroach droppings, says Gaius. And they are the dickens to get off.
Come into my office both of you, says Steve. It just happens I know cockroaches inside and out.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
The Wonders Of DNA Testing
What shall I do with you ? says the director.
Take me back to my friends in the bar, says Arthur.
Paul pushes him through to the bar.
Gaius looks up.
Arthur! says Gaius. Where have you been?
Paul drags Arthur over to Gaius, who is sitting with Vello, David and Ageless.
What's happened? asks Gaius.
I found him downstairs defacing a valuable painting with a cockroach, says Paul. And then he threw up on the floor.
Our fault, says Vello, shaking his head. We bought him too many drinks.
Yes, our fault, says David.
It was Gaius's cockroach, says Ageless.
Your cockroach! says Paul in amazement. Why bring a cockroach in here?
Ignorance, says Gaius. It was in an envelope with my tickets. Just look what it's done.
He shows Paul the tickets, smeared with brown faecal dots, which have not been successfully removed by the kind barman's cloth.
Well, sir, says Paul. If it was your cockroach he used, it seems you are partly responsible. I must ask you to go downstairs and clean up the mess. Young 'Arthur Rimbaud' as he calls himself, is too drunk to do it himself. And I see that you have a wet cloth.
Just a moment, says Gaius. What proof do you have that he was using my cockroach?
You've already admitted it, says Paul.
That was before, says Gaius, who does not like the idea of cleaning up vomit. It might have been another cockroach. This is a very old building. I wouldn't be surprised if it were infested with cockroaches.
Paul is annoyed. Of course it's the same cockroach.
Then I shall just have to prove it, he snaps.
How will you do that? asks Vello. DNA?
Exactly! says Paul. DNA. Give me that cloth!
Gaius gives him the cloth. At least without that he can't clean up the vomit downstairs.
Paul folds up the barman's cloth and marches back down the stairs to the painting. He dabs at the offending word written in cockroach smear with the corner of his personal hankie. He folds up the hankie.
He goes into his office, finds two sealable clear plastic bags and places the barman's cloth into one and his hankie into the other.
Then he marches back to the bar.
Right, says Paul. Evidence. Tomorrow I'm taking these to the SA Museum to show to my friend Steve Donnellan. We'll see whose cockroach it is!
Take me back to my friends in the bar, says Arthur.
Paul pushes him through to the bar.
Gaius looks up.
Arthur! says Gaius. Where have you been?
Paul drags Arthur over to Gaius, who is sitting with Vello, David and Ageless.
What's happened? asks Gaius.
I found him downstairs defacing a valuable painting with a cockroach, says Paul. And then he threw up on the floor.
Our fault, says Vello, shaking his head. We bought him too many drinks.
Yes, our fault, says David.
It was Gaius's cockroach, says Ageless.
Your cockroach! says Paul in amazement. Why bring a cockroach in here?
Ignorance, says Gaius. It was in an envelope with my tickets. Just look what it's done.
He shows Paul the tickets, smeared with brown faecal dots, which have not been successfully removed by the kind barman's cloth.
Well, sir, says Paul. If it was your cockroach he used, it seems you are partly responsible. I must ask you to go downstairs and clean up the mess. Young 'Arthur Rimbaud' as he calls himself, is too drunk to do it himself. And I see that you have a wet cloth.
Just a moment, says Gaius. What proof do you have that he was using my cockroach?
You've already admitted it, says Paul.
That was before, says Gaius, who does not like the idea of cleaning up vomit. It might have been another cockroach. This is a very old building. I wouldn't be surprised if it were infested with cockroaches.
Paul is annoyed. Of course it's the same cockroach.
Then I shall just have to prove it, he snaps.
How will you do that? asks Vello. DNA?
Exactly! says Paul. DNA. Give me that cloth!
Gaius gives him the cloth. At least without that he can't clean up the vomit downstairs.
Paul folds up the barman's cloth and marches back down the stairs to the painting. He dabs at the offending word written in cockroach smear with the corner of his personal hankie. He folds up the hankie.
He goes into his office, finds two sealable clear plastic bags and places the barman's cloth into one and his hankie into the other.
Then he marches back to the bar.
Right, says Paul. Evidence. Tomorrow I'm taking these to the SA Museum to show to my friend Steve Donnellan. We'll see whose cockroach it is!
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
Science, Art and The Cockroach
Where's Arthur? says Gaius, looking around the dimly lit bar.
Washing cockroach innards off the bottom of his shoe, most likely, says Ageless.
Poor cockroach, says David, lugubriously.
Yes, poor cockroach, nods Vello. A sad sticky end.
He deserved it, says Ageless.
Gaius smells a rat.
Did you know that cockroach? he asks Ageless, severely. It occurs to me it may be a relative.
Ageless feigns outrage.
A cockroach a relative of mine! says Ageless. A cockroach is a hexapod insect, while I am a lobster, and therefore a decapod crustacean.
But you both have exoskeletons, observes Vello.
And you are from the same phylum, says Gaius.
If you were a lady, says Ageless, which of us would you prefer?
Aha! says Gaius. I believe you are jealous.
Not any more, says Ageless. Not any more.
.........
Arthur is downstairs alone with the paintings. He glowers at them one by one.
Illuminations! says Arthur. That title is mine!
The scientists all have their eyes closed.
Arthur takes the bandage out of his pocket and unwraps the cockroach.
The creamy white stuff oozing out of its sides has not dried.
He scrawls the letters V-O-L on the glass of the nearest painting using the cockroach like a pen.
Then, snap! He takes a photo.
He stares at the scientist behind the glass. Merde! Did the scientist blink?
Arthur is about to turn tail and run for the stairs when the director appears in the doorway.
Oi! shouts the director. What's that stuff?
Cockroach innards, says Arthur. Who are you?
Paul Willis, I'm the director, says the director. And you are in trouble. What's your name?
Arthur Rimbaud, says Arthur.
And what is V-O-L? asks Paul Willis.
Theft, says Arthur, looking Paul in the eye. Theft of my title, Illuminations.
Aha! says Paul Willis. But yours is in French!
Just making a statement, says Arthur.
Waauugh! Bluuugh!
Arthur throws up on the floor, just missing Paul's shoe.
Paul hauls him back up the stairs.
Washing cockroach innards off the bottom of his shoe, most likely, says Ageless.
Poor cockroach, says David, lugubriously.
Yes, poor cockroach, nods Vello. A sad sticky end.
He deserved it, says Ageless.
Gaius smells a rat.
Did you know that cockroach? he asks Ageless, severely. It occurs to me it may be a relative.
Ageless feigns outrage.
A cockroach a relative of mine! says Ageless. A cockroach is a hexapod insect, while I am a lobster, and therefore a decapod crustacean.
But you both have exoskeletons, observes Vello.
And you are from the same phylum, says Gaius.
If you were a lady, says Ageless, which of us would you prefer?
Aha! says Gaius. I believe you are jealous.
Not any more, says Ageless. Not any more.
.........
Arthur is downstairs alone with the paintings. He glowers at them one by one.
Illuminations! says Arthur. That title is mine!
The scientists all have their eyes closed.
Arthur takes the bandage out of his pocket and unwraps the cockroach.
The creamy white stuff oozing out of its sides has not dried.
He scrawls the letters V-O-L on the glass of the nearest painting using the cockroach like a pen.
Then, snap! He takes a photo.
He stares at the scientist behind the glass. Merde! Did the scientist blink?
Arthur is about to turn tail and run for the stairs when the director appears in the doorway.
Oi! shouts the director. What's that stuff?
Cockroach innards, says Arthur. Who are you?
Paul Willis, I'm the director, says the director. And you are in trouble. What's your name?
Arthur Rimbaud, says Arthur.
And what is V-O-L? asks Paul Willis.
Theft, says Arthur, looking Paul in the eye. Theft of my title, Illuminations.
Aha! says Paul Willis. But yours is in French!
Just making a statement, says Arthur.
Waauugh! Bluuugh!
Arthur throws up on the floor, just missing Paul's shoe.
Paul hauls him back up the stairs.
Monday, February 18, 2013
The Ruined Tickets
Gaius is at the bar in the Science Exchange when Arthur and Ageless arrive.
Arthur! Ageless! says Gaius. What brings you here?
I brought Arthur to see the Illuminations, says Ageless. We thought you might be here.
Plenty going on here during the Fringe, says Gaius. Are you having a drink?
Yes thanks, say Arthur and Ageless.
Gaius now has to buy them a drink. How did that happen?
What are you seeing? asks Ageless.
Ermmm.... says Gaius. I don't know.
He takes a Fringe envelope out of his pocket.
Let me see, these are my tickets in here.... Arrrgh! Jumping Jupiter! What is it?
A large cockroach jumps out of the envelope and drops to the floor, where it freezes.
Kill it! shouts Ageless, though he ought to know better than that.
Arthur reacts quickly, crushing the cockroach with his foot. The cockroach is hard. It lies motionless, but has not been squashed.
Arthur stamps on the cockroach with double the force of last time. Creamy stuff oozes out of its sides.
Phew, says Ageless. Nasty creature! Thanks Arthur.
Arthur picks up the cockroach, wraps it in one of his bandages and stuffs it into the pocket of his shorts. He then takes a large swig of white wine.
Gaius is examining his tickets. They are covered with green smears and tiny brown dots. Some of the brown dots are stuck fast to the tickets.
Good gracious! says Gaius. That cockroach must have been in the envelope for quite a long time. My tickets are ruined.
Here, says the barman, handing him a wet cloth.
Now Vello and David arrive, and learn of the cockroach
Well done Arthur, let me buy you a drink, says Vello.
And me, says David. You are a reliable chap!
.......
Arthur has had many drinks without having to pay for a single one. He feels that there is something he is forgetting to do......something..... he needs to concentrate....he is not getting the recognition he deserves.....those paintings downstairs........a plan forms.....
He melts away from the others, and sneaks down the stairs to the room where the paintings are housed. The disemboweled cockroach is burning a hole in his pocket.
Arthur! Ageless! says Gaius. What brings you here?
I brought Arthur to see the Illuminations, says Ageless. We thought you might be here.
Plenty going on here during the Fringe, says Gaius. Are you having a drink?
Yes thanks, say Arthur and Ageless.
Gaius now has to buy them a drink. How did that happen?
What are you seeing? asks Ageless.
Ermmm.... says Gaius. I don't know.
He takes a Fringe envelope out of his pocket.
Let me see, these are my tickets in here.... Arrrgh! Jumping Jupiter! What is it?
A large cockroach jumps out of the envelope and drops to the floor, where it freezes.
Kill it! shouts Ageless, though he ought to know better than that.
Arthur reacts quickly, crushing the cockroach with his foot. The cockroach is hard. It lies motionless, but has not been squashed.
Arthur stamps on the cockroach with double the force of last time. Creamy stuff oozes out of its sides.
Phew, says Ageless. Nasty creature! Thanks Arthur.
Arthur picks up the cockroach, wraps it in one of his bandages and stuffs it into the pocket of his shorts. He then takes a large swig of white wine.
Gaius is examining his tickets. They are covered with green smears and tiny brown dots. Some of the brown dots are stuck fast to the tickets.
Good gracious! says Gaius. That cockroach must have been in the envelope for quite a long time. My tickets are ruined.
Here, says the barman, handing him a wet cloth.
Now Vello and David arrive, and learn of the cockroach
Well done Arthur, let me buy you a drink, says Vello.
And me, says David. You are a reliable chap!
.......
Arthur has had many drinks without having to pay for a single one. He feels that there is something he is forgetting to do......something..... he needs to concentrate....he is not getting the recognition he deserves.....those paintings downstairs........a plan forms.....
He melts away from the others, and sneaks down the stairs to the room where the paintings are housed. The disemboweled cockroach is burning a hole in his pocket.
Cultural Life At The Adelaide Fringe
What shall we do now? says Vello, after the show.
It's late. Let's go home, says David. My feet hurt.
No, no, don't be a wimp! says Vello. The night is young. Let's go somewhere else. Let's go to the Science Exchange. I bet Gaius is there, and we can have a few drinks with him.
Alright, says David. Let's go.
They walk under the Morphett Street bridge, passing a rope of greasy human hair on the pavement, partially covered at the scalp end by a crumpled sheet of newspaper.
Should we report it? says Vello.
Probably, says David. But it may just be part of the Fringe.
They do not report it, but continue their walk to the Science Exchange.
.........
Arthur has taken three photographs.
What to do next? The library is open. He will find the photography section, and pick up some tips.
He enters the reading room, only to see someone he knows.
Ageless! says Arthur. What are you doing here?
I live here, says Ageless. What are YOU doing here?
Arthur explains about the photographs and his burgeoning interest in photographing particularly expressive faces.
Ageless makes a particularly expressive face.
Arthur doesn't notice. He is looking around for the photography section.
You won't learn anything from books, says Ageless. Come on, I'll show you some faces.
Okay, says Arthur.
Ageless takes him to the Science Exchange and shows him Andrew Baird's exhibition, Illuminations. It's a series of paintings of scientists. The scientists are painted with eyes closed, holding something that represents their work.
Faces, says Ageless. What do you think?
Arthur doesn't know what he thinks. For one thing, the title is HIS! His book of poems, Illuminations! But the pictures aren't bad.
Come on, says Ageless. Come and buy me a drink at the bar. I bet Gaius is there.
No money, unfortunately, says Arthur. But if Gaius is there.....
It's late. Let's go home, says David. My feet hurt.
No, no, don't be a wimp! says Vello. The night is young. Let's go somewhere else. Let's go to the Science Exchange. I bet Gaius is there, and we can have a few drinks with him.
Alright, says David. Let's go.
They walk under the Morphett Street bridge, passing a rope of greasy human hair on the pavement, partially covered at the scalp end by a crumpled sheet of newspaper.
Should we report it? says Vello.
Probably, says David. But it may just be part of the Fringe.
They do not report it, but continue their walk to the Science Exchange.
.........
Arthur has taken three photographs.
What to do next? The library is open. He will find the photography section, and pick up some tips.
He enters the reading room, only to see someone he knows.
Ageless! says Arthur. What are you doing here?
I live here, says Ageless. What are YOU doing here?
Arthur explains about the photographs and his burgeoning interest in photographing particularly expressive faces.
Ageless makes a particularly expressive face.
Arthur doesn't notice. He is looking around for the photography section.
You won't learn anything from books, says Ageless. Come on, I'll show you some faces.
Okay, says Arthur.
Ageless takes him to the Science Exchange and shows him Andrew Baird's exhibition, Illuminations. It's a series of paintings of scientists. The scientists are painted with eyes closed, holding something that represents their work.
Faces, says Ageless. What do you think?
Arthur doesn't know what he thinks. For one thing, the title is HIS! His book of poems, Illuminations! But the pictures aren't bad.
Come on, says Ageless. Come and buy me a drink at the bar. I bet Gaius is there.
No money, unfortunately, says Arthur. But if Gaius is there.....
Saturday, February 16, 2013
What Is Pulled Pork?
Another hot night in Adelaide. David and Vello have dinner at Panacea on Halifax Street.
What is pulled pork? wonders David.
Lets find out, says Vello, feeling adventurous.
They order pulled pork, with scallops and garfish and mushrooms.
Where is it? asks David, when the pulled pork arrives. He pokes at some baby spinach with a fork. Under the baby spinach is a fibrous white mass of pulled pork.
There it is, says Vello. Hmmm, hmmm......not bad.
You only live once, says David, spearing a scallop. Yum yum this is nice.
Yum yum so is the garfish, says Vello. But the pulled pork is average. What time is our show?
Nine, says David. Let's catch the tram.
They walk to King William Street and wait for the tram. It arrives, they get on.
The tram is filled with a variety of persons, both sitting and standing. Young girls in big shoes and skirts with net frills. These are just some of the colourful persons they see on the tram.
They arrive at the Soul Box on the dot of nine.
What? There are only eight other people in the audience. They sit down, making it ten.
Luke Escombe comes onto the stage with James his bass guitarist, and they start playing. They play very well. James looks something like Arthur.
David nudges Vello. Psst! He looks like Arthur!
No he doesn't, whispers Vello. He's smiling too much. But his hair is like Arthur's.
Luke Escombe is tall and skinny and wearing a hat. He plays songs that relate to his life, which he's written himself. They are songs about twins, bodybuilding, peppermint tea, Crohn's disease, love, and how lonely he felt when in Edinburgh. His last song ends with a jerking-off dance. The gestures are simple and rude. Will the audience join in?
Yes they will, but they will not stand up.
What is pulled pork? wonders David.
Lets find out, says Vello, feeling adventurous.
They order pulled pork, with scallops and garfish and mushrooms.
Where is it? asks David, when the pulled pork arrives. He pokes at some baby spinach with a fork. Under the baby spinach is a fibrous white mass of pulled pork.
There it is, says Vello. Hmmm, hmmm......not bad.
You only live once, says David, spearing a scallop. Yum yum this is nice.
Yum yum so is the garfish, says Vello. But the pulled pork is average. What time is our show?
Nine, says David. Let's catch the tram.
They walk to King William Street and wait for the tram. It arrives, they get on.
The tram is filled with a variety of persons, both sitting and standing. Young girls in big shoes and skirts with net frills. These are just some of the colourful persons they see on the tram.
They arrive at the Soul Box on the dot of nine.
What? There are only eight other people in the audience. They sit down, making it ten.
Luke Escombe comes onto the stage with James his bass guitarist, and they start playing. They play very well. James looks something like Arthur.
David nudges Vello. Psst! He looks like Arthur!
No he doesn't, whispers Vello. He's smiling too much. But his hair is like Arthur's.
Luke Escombe is tall and skinny and wearing a hat. He plays songs that relate to his life, which he's written himself. They are songs about twins, bodybuilding, peppermint tea, Crohn's disease, love, and how lonely he felt when in Edinburgh. His last song ends with a jerking-off dance. The gestures are simple and rude. Will the audience join in?
Yes they will, but they will not stand up.
Friday, February 15, 2013
Grand Guignol and Root Chips
It is a warm evening in Adelaide, and still light. There are thundery clouds overhead. David and Vello walk to the East End and cross the road near the entrance to Gluttony.
Already the grass is like chaff. There are tables and chairs and suitcases to sit on. There are wardrobes that you can walk into, if only you dare. Old chandeliers and fringed light shades hang from the trees, and the theme of the garden is pigs.
This is better than last year, says Vello, patting a painted pig. More armchairs and pigs. But the food looks the same. They had Scottish burgers last year.
Root chips! says David, pointing to a chalkboard. What are root chips?
I don't fancy root chips, says Vello. Lets go with the burgers again.
They sit on a soft backless sofa eating their burgers and watching the crowd.
Look at that picture next to the tent, says David. I imagine it's meant to be Jesus. And look what he's saying.
YOLO, says Vello. At least now I know what that means. You only live once.... Ha ha, I get it! He's popping pills and eating MacDonalds!
Very funny, says David. But let's not tell Sweezus. He hasn't only lived once.
Come to that, nor have we, observes Vello.
It is almost eight o'clock, time for the show, Grand Guignol.
The tent is tiny and dark, with a large fan at the entrance, and a puppet theatre on the stage. David and Vello sit in the second row. Four large people arrive and sit in the front row.
Dave Bloustein begins with puppets. Vello is disappointed. He doesn't like puppets. And he doesn't like sitting behind large people.
After that things improve. Dave Bloustein tells stories of terror and mayhem and murder, in the tradition of French Grand Guignol. First as an Egyptian, then as a Faceless Man in the Labor Party, then a Barista, and finally a Murderer called Tupperware Jack.
It is a preview show so there are some minor hiccups, but Vello and David agree it was worth the five dollars.
Are we getting old? asks David.
Why do you need to ask? says Vello.
In previous years we've participated, says David. Remember when we did philosophy and trick cycling as Abbott and Costello? Remember the year we performed Candide on Bicycles? Those were good times.
You're right, David, says Vello. Where is our spirit of adventure? I wish I had tried the root chips.
It's not too late, says David. YOLO.
Hmm, says Vello. I wonder...
They go back to buy some root chips.
Already the grass is like chaff. There are tables and chairs and suitcases to sit on. There are wardrobes that you can walk into, if only you dare. Old chandeliers and fringed light shades hang from the trees, and the theme of the garden is pigs.
This is better than last year, says Vello, patting a painted pig. More armchairs and pigs. But the food looks the same. They had Scottish burgers last year.
Root chips! says David, pointing to a chalkboard. What are root chips?
I don't fancy root chips, says Vello. Lets go with the burgers again.
They sit on a soft backless sofa eating their burgers and watching the crowd.
Look at that picture next to the tent, says David. I imagine it's meant to be Jesus. And look what he's saying.
YOLO, says Vello. At least now I know what that means. You only live once.... Ha ha, I get it! He's popping pills and eating MacDonalds!
Very funny, says David. But let's not tell Sweezus. He hasn't only lived once.
Come to that, nor have we, observes Vello.
It is almost eight o'clock, time for the show, Grand Guignol.
The tent is tiny and dark, with a large fan at the entrance, and a puppet theatre on the stage. David and Vello sit in the second row. Four large people arrive and sit in the front row.
Dave Bloustein begins with puppets. Vello is disappointed. He doesn't like puppets. And he doesn't like sitting behind large people.
After that things improve. Dave Bloustein tells stories of terror and mayhem and murder, in the tradition of French Grand Guignol. First as an Egyptian, then as a Faceless Man in the Labor Party, then a Barista, and finally a Murderer called Tupperware Jack.
It is a preview show so there are some minor hiccups, but Vello and David agree it was worth the five dollars.
Are we getting old? asks David.
Why do you need to ask? says Vello.
In previous years we've participated, says David. Remember when we did philosophy and trick cycling as Abbott and Costello? Remember the year we performed Candide on Bicycles? Those were good times.
You're right, David, says Vello. Where is our spirit of adventure? I wish I had tried the root chips.
It's not too late, says David. YOLO.
Hmm, says Vello. I wonder...
They go back to buy some root chips.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Death In A Bag
Good, she likes it, says Bunny.
She likes it! says Vello. Extraordinary. Let me see!
He leans over Bunny and reads what Beyoncé has written:
Hi all! I love it. The words SO made me cry. Your poor English king. He misses sausages and longs for his bones to knit up. He understands all about recycling. I couldn't ask for a better ghosting. Please give him equal billing with me. No changes required. ( Unless maybe the spelling? ) All the best, B.
Isn't she nice! says Bunny.
What's wrong with the spelling? says Sweezus. I researched all that.
There's a PS, says Bunny. She hopes the king feels better soon. What does she mean?
She thinks he's alive, says Arthur. It's understandable.
Oh, never mind about that! says The VeloDrone. This is wonderful. Well done, young Sweezus. Well done, Bunny. You two obviously have your fingers on the pulse of modern thought. Perhaps we were becoming a touch old fashioned.......
Old fashioned! says David. Since when did philosophy become old fashioned? And I still cannot see how life compares to a shopping list. Life is not about spending money....
She doesn't mean that! says Bunny.
No, she doesn't, says Sweezus. She means life is about figuring out what you want to do with it.
And then doing it, says Arthur. And then when you've done it you die. And death is the shopping bag with everything in it you've done.
They all look at Arthur. Arthur picks up the camera and points it at them. Snap!
Yes, yes, says Vello. Well, since David and I are now free, we'll be off to the Fringe. I have tickets to Grand Guignol at the Piglet tonight. Are you ready David?
Certainly, Vello, says David. Shall we eat first?
She likes it! says Vello. Extraordinary. Let me see!
He leans over Bunny and reads what Beyoncé has written:
Hi all! I love it. The words SO made me cry. Your poor English king. He misses sausages and longs for his bones to knit up. He understands all about recycling. I couldn't ask for a better ghosting. Please give him equal billing with me. No changes required. ( Unless maybe the spelling? ) All the best, B.
Isn't she nice! says Bunny.
What's wrong with the spelling? says Sweezus. I researched all that.
There's a PS, says Bunny. She hopes the king feels better soon. What does she mean?
She thinks he's alive, says Arthur. It's understandable.
Oh, never mind about that! says The VeloDrone. This is wonderful. Well done, young Sweezus. Well done, Bunny. You two obviously have your fingers on the pulse of modern thought. Perhaps we were becoming a touch old fashioned.......
Old fashioned! says David. Since when did philosophy become old fashioned? And I still cannot see how life compares to a shopping list. Life is not about spending money....
She doesn't mean that! says Bunny.
No, she doesn't, says Sweezus. She means life is about figuring out what you want to do with it.
And then doing it, says Arthur. And then when you've done it you die. And death is the shopping bag with everything in it you've done.
They all look at Arthur. Arthur picks up the camera and points it at them. Snap!
Yes, yes, says Vello. Well, since David and I are now free, we'll be off to the Fringe. I have tickets to Grand Guignol at the Piglet tonight. Are you ready David?
Certainly, Vello, says David. Shall we eat first?
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Snapping Angry Faces
Bugger! says Sweezus. I've got to go back to the office. Vello's angry with me.
Sounds like a good reason not to go back to the office, says Arthur.
Just then the woman whose cross face he snapped near the pigs in the Mall comes back with a policeman.
Now then! says the policeman. What's this I hear about you taking photographs of persons without their permission?
Didn't know I needed permission, says Arthur. Her face was out there in the open.
Well you do, says the policeman. I must formally ask you to delete it.
I don't know how to delete it, says Arthur. It isn't my camera.
Then I must ask you to accompany me to the station, says the policeman.
That seems a bit harsh, says Sweezus. He was given it by his employer.
And who might you be? says the policeman turning to face Sweezus. Ahh!
It is an Ahh of recognition.
Sweezus! says the policeman. It's me, Victor! From the Victor Harbor police station.
Victor! says Sweezus. Yeah, I remember! The penguin pie and the shorts.
Good times, says Victor. Not like this city policing.
He looks sharply at the angry woman, who stalks off in disgust.
Arthur is now free to go. He accompanies Sweezus back to the office where there should be some more angry faces.
When they get there, Vello is steaming.
Sweezus! says Vello. I have two bones to pick with you. Number one, when you are ghosting, you are supposed to write in the style of the person you are ghosting, NOT KING RICHARD THE THIRD!
Arthur snaps Vello's irascible expression with the camera.
Stop that, Arthur! says Vello. Why oh why is it descending into chaos round here?
Because Belle and Marie are away, says David. Just try to calm down a bit, Vello.
What's the other one? asks Sweezus.
What other one? says Vello. Oh, the other one! Number two, you do not go sending off work to a client before I have seen it. I am the boss around here.
We are, says David. We are the boss around here.
Bosses, says Arthur.
Yes, yes, mutters David.
You are, says Sweezus. But you weren't here. Nor was Bunny. So I took the initiative.
And you sent off that nonsense of yours to Beyoncé, says Vello. Who knows what she'll think! Next thing will be that her people will be contacting our people. Then what shall we do? We don't have any people!
Bunny enters the office, and turns on the office computer.
Woo! says Bunny. Look at this! Beyoncé's answered already!
Sounds like a good reason not to go back to the office, says Arthur.
Just then the woman whose cross face he snapped near the pigs in the Mall comes back with a policeman.
Now then! says the policeman. What's this I hear about you taking photographs of persons without their permission?
Didn't know I needed permission, says Arthur. Her face was out there in the open.
Well you do, says the policeman. I must formally ask you to delete it.
I don't know how to delete it, says Arthur. It isn't my camera.
Then I must ask you to accompany me to the station, says the policeman.
That seems a bit harsh, says Sweezus. He was given it by his employer.
And who might you be? says the policeman turning to face Sweezus. Ahh!
It is an Ahh of recognition.
Sweezus! says the policeman. It's me, Victor! From the Victor Harbor police station.
Victor! says Sweezus. Yeah, I remember! The penguin pie and the shorts.
Good times, says Victor. Not like this city policing.
He looks sharply at the angry woman, who stalks off in disgust.
Arthur is now free to go. He accompanies Sweezus back to the office where there should be some more angry faces.
When they get there, Vello is steaming.
Sweezus! says Vello. I have two bones to pick with you. Number one, when you are ghosting, you are supposed to write in the style of the person you are ghosting, NOT KING RICHARD THE THIRD!
Arthur snaps Vello's irascible expression with the camera.
Stop that, Arthur! says Vello. Why oh why is it descending into chaos round here?
Because Belle and Marie are away, says David. Just try to calm down a bit, Vello.
What's the other one? asks Sweezus.
What other one? says Vello. Oh, the other one! Number two, you do not go sending off work to a client before I have seen it. I am the boss around here.
We are, says David. We are the boss around here.
Bosses, says Arthur.
Yes, yes, mutters David.
You are, says Sweezus. But you weren't here. Nor was Bunny. So I took the initiative.
And you sent off that nonsense of yours to Beyoncé, says Vello. Who knows what she'll think! Next thing will be that her people will be contacting our people. Then what shall we do? We don't have any people!
Bunny enters the office, and turns on the office computer.
Woo! says Bunny. Look at this! Beyoncé's answered already!
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
How Anger Relates To Creativity
Mrs Hume drops Sweezus back at the office.
No one is there.
Sweezus sits down at the computer and types up his work, then sends it off to Beyoncé.
Arthur looks in.
Hello, says Arthur. Want to come out and help me take photos?
Sure, says Sweezus. They both leave the office.
They walk until they reach Rundle Mall. They sit down on a seat near the pigs.
Taken many? asks Sweezus.
Haven't taken any, says Arthur. Don't know how it works.
You just press that button, says Sweezus. But turn it on first.
Got it, says Arthur. Now what shall I take photographs of?
Arthur, says Sweezus. This isn't like you. Where's your creative spark?
I'm just not inspired, says Arthur, pointing his lens at the pigs.
Not the pigs, says Sweezus. Try the balls or the fountain.
What balls? says Arthur.
The Mall's balls, says Sweezus. They're planning to move them. And the fountain.You could document that.
Shame on them! says a woman, leaning round from the seat behind theirs. It's outrageous! Moving our balls and our fountain!
Arthur presses the button and snaps her expression.
Hey! says the woman. You don't have my permission for that!
I don't need it, says Arthur. Face of outrage. I like it.
The woman goes off to look for a policeman.
Sweezus's phone rings. He answers it.
Sweezus, says Bunny. Can you get back here? Mr Drone is heaps angry with you.
No one is there.
Sweezus sits down at the computer and types up his work, then sends it off to Beyoncé.
Arthur looks in.
Hello, says Arthur. Want to come out and help me take photos?
Sure, says Sweezus. They both leave the office.
They walk until they reach Rundle Mall. They sit down on a seat near the pigs.
Taken many? asks Sweezus.
Haven't taken any, says Arthur. Don't know how it works.
You just press that button, says Sweezus. But turn it on first.
Got it, says Arthur. Now what shall I take photographs of?
Arthur, says Sweezus. This isn't like you. Where's your creative spark?
I'm just not inspired, says Arthur, pointing his lens at the pigs.
Not the pigs, says Sweezus. Try the balls or the fountain.
What balls? says Arthur.
The Mall's balls, says Sweezus. They're planning to move them. And the fountain.You could document that.
Shame on them! says a woman, leaning round from the seat behind theirs. It's outrageous! Moving our balls and our fountain!
Arthur presses the button and snaps her expression.
Hey! says the woman. You don't have my permission for that!
I don't need it, says Arthur. Face of outrage. I like it.
The woman goes off to look for a policeman.
Sweezus's phone rings. He answers it.
Sweezus, says Bunny. Can you get back here? Mr Drone is heaps angry with you.
Monday, February 11, 2013
How To Take Control
The party is over. Sweezus is driving Mrs Hume back to town.
Did you finish the article? asks Mrs Hume.
No, I'm stuck, says Sweezus.
It's the bicycle, isn't it, sympathises Mrs Hume. That's always the hardest part.
It's Richard the Third, says Sweezus. He's out of his depth.
Ha ha! laughs Mrs Hume. Out of his depth! But remember, he lived under a car park. He should know what a bicycle is.
He didn't LIVE under it, says Sweezus.
Sweezus! says Mrs Hume sternly. Who is writing this thing?
I am, says Sweezus. It's for Beyoncé. But the voice is of Richard the Third.
That's a very daft concept, says Mrs Hume. But if you are determined, you must take control.
You're right, Mrs Hume, says Sweezus.
He starts to think about how to take control.
Watch out! shouts Mrs Hume. We nearly had an accident! Stop the car and let me drive.
They stop and swap seats. With Mrs Hume driving, the car makes that funny noise.
Hear that? says Mrs Hume. I can't understand it.
But Sweezus is deep in thought, and doesn't hear it. Nor does Richard the Third.
Livynge onder a car parke he saugh manye a bycycle. But at the babye showere he saugh a bycycle the likke of whych he hadde nevere seene before in alle his liffe.
A bycycle that moveth notte forewarde, nor ever coulde.
Eke hade he heerd the ladyes speke of exchanging a vaste somme of money for swych a bycycle.
This he bethougt himme, proveth in sooth that recyclinge is a greyter goode thanne cyclinge.
The ende.
Awesome! says Sweezus. I've done it. Listen to this Mrs Hume.
He reads it to Mrs Hume.
Very good, says Mrs Hume. You've captured the essence of something there. Well done. But now it....
Watch out! shouts Sweezus.
Oops! says Mrs Hume.
Did you finish the article? asks Mrs Hume.
No, I'm stuck, says Sweezus.
It's the bicycle, isn't it, sympathises Mrs Hume. That's always the hardest part.
It's Richard the Third, says Sweezus. He's out of his depth.
Ha ha! laughs Mrs Hume. Out of his depth! But remember, he lived under a car park. He should know what a bicycle is.
He didn't LIVE under it, says Sweezus.
Sweezus! says Mrs Hume sternly. Who is writing this thing?
I am, says Sweezus. It's for Beyoncé. But the voice is of Richard the Third.
That's a very daft concept, says Mrs Hume. But if you are determined, you must take control.
You're right, Mrs Hume, says Sweezus.
He starts to think about how to take control.
Watch out! shouts Mrs Hume. We nearly had an accident! Stop the car and let me drive.
They stop and swap seats. With Mrs Hume driving, the car makes that funny noise.
Hear that? says Mrs Hume. I can't understand it.
But Sweezus is deep in thought, and doesn't hear it. Nor does Richard the Third.
Livynge onder a car parke he saugh manye a bycycle. But at the babye showere he saugh a bycycle the likke of whych he hadde nevere seene before in alle his liffe.
A bycycle that moveth notte forewarde, nor ever coulde.
Eke hade he heerd the ladyes speke of exchanging a vaste somme of money for swych a bycycle.
This he bethougt himme, proveth in sooth that recyclinge is a greyter goode thanne cyclinge.
The ende.
Awesome! says Sweezus. I've done it. Listen to this Mrs Hume.
He reads it to Mrs Hume.
Very good, says Mrs Hume. You've captured the essence of something there. Well done. But now it....
Watch out! shouts Sweezus.
Oops! says Mrs Hume.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Cycling and Recycling
Amy opens the door.
Hello, she says.
Can I have a drink of water? asks Sweezus.
Sure, says Amy. Come on in.
Sweezus goes inside and through to the patio at the back, where the women and children are eating sandwiches and cakes, and drinking fizzy drinks.
She let you in! says Mrs Hume, surprised.
Of course she did. Amy is kindhearted. She brings him water in a plastic cup.
He sits down between Mrs Hume and Auntie Val, and tries to look unobtrusive.
Conversations resume over his head. They are talking about an exercise bike.
How much did she pay for it? asks Auntie Val.
Three thousand dollars, says Mrs Hume.
Hmm, says Auntie Val. How much does she want?
A thousand four hundred says Mel, coming over.
Val's giving hers to Mick, says Mrs Hume. And she wants a better one.
What's it like? asks Auntie Val.
It's got screens, says Mel, and all these different settings. You can alter them without getting off. I don't use it any more.
I'll think about it, says Auntie Val.
The women play Baby Name Race, and Baby Bingo. They play Spit the Dummy and Scull The Baby Bottle.
They have forgotten Sweezus is there.
Now it is time to open the presents. Everyone crowds inside. There aren't enough seats. Auntie Val sits on Amy's exercise bike to watch, while Amy opens all her blue presents, helped by her sister. It takes a long time because there are a lot of presents. Just before the end Auntie Val gets off.
Oof! says Auntie Val.
Sweezus looks at the exercise bike. He thinks it would bamboozle Richard the Third.
Perhaps a normal bicycle would bamboozle him.
Sweezus thinks about the nature of the literary problem that is before him. Beyoncé wrote about cycling and recycling. She knows what they are, but Richard the Third does not.
If he could only.... connect!
Hello, she says.
Can I have a drink of water? asks Sweezus.
Sure, says Amy. Come on in.
Sweezus goes inside and through to the patio at the back, where the women and children are eating sandwiches and cakes, and drinking fizzy drinks.
She let you in! says Mrs Hume, surprised.
Of course she did. Amy is kindhearted. She brings him water in a plastic cup.
He sits down between Mrs Hume and Auntie Val, and tries to look unobtrusive.
Conversations resume over his head. They are talking about an exercise bike.
How much did she pay for it? asks Auntie Val.
Three thousand dollars, says Mrs Hume.
Hmm, says Auntie Val. How much does she want?
A thousand four hundred says Mel, coming over.
Val's giving hers to Mick, says Mrs Hume. And she wants a better one.
What's it like? asks Auntie Val.
It's got screens, says Mel, and all these different settings. You can alter them without getting off. I don't use it any more.
I'll think about it, says Auntie Val.
The women play Baby Name Race, and Baby Bingo. They play Spit the Dummy and Scull The Baby Bottle.
They have forgotten Sweezus is there.
Now it is time to open the presents. Everyone crowds inside. There aren't enough seats. Auntie Val sits on Amy's exercise bike to watch, while Amy opens all her blue presents, helped by her sister. It takes a long time because there are a lot of presents. Just before the end Auntie Val gets off.
Oof! says Auntie Val.
Sweezus looks at the exercise bike. He thinks it would bamboozle Richard the Third.
Perhaps a normal bicycle would bamboozle him.
Sweezus thinks about the nature of the literary problem that is before him. Beyoncé wrote about cycling and recycling. She knows what they are, but Richard the Third does not.
If he could only.... connect!
Saturday, February 9, 2013
Only Connect
It's a long drive to the baby shower, but Mrs Hume's car is performing well.
Car seems to be alright, says Sweezus.
Yes, says Mrs Hume. Perhaps I needn't have asked you to come. You looked busy.
It's alright, says Sweezus. I was writing.
How's it coming along? asks Mrs Hume.
It's pretty awesome, says Sweezus. I can't wait to get it finished.
Well, you'll have four hours in the car while I'm at Amy's baby shower, says Mrs Hume.
Lucky I brought some paper and a pen, says Sweezus.
Not the crucifix? says Mrs Hume
No, the boxing frog, says Sweezus.
..........
It's a hot day. Sweezus is parked outside Amy's house in the sun. It's a new suburb and there are as yet no trees.
A stream of women and children enter the house with blue wrapped boxes. The sounds of hilarity float through the open front door.
He gets out his notepad and the boxing frog pen. It's the first time he's used it. Bzzz! Bop, bop! When you press a button the arms of the frog punch the air. That's kind of cool.
Richard the Third doesn't think so.
Richard the Third is not a happye manne.
He wisheth to goe inside the house of Amy, for the daye is hotte.
Butte he must bethinke him of the meanynge of the nexte sentence of Beyoncé:
'Onley connecte'
What manner of necromancying womman is this Beyoncé?
Shee hath trewe knoweledge of his dedde bones!
How many timmes hath he preyed themme to connecte agayne that he may bee wholle, and rise up fromm the car parke?
In sooth she is a verye witche!
The eyen of the kinge fille up with teeres.
Sweezus stops writing. That's enough. He is wringing wet.
Two hours to go, and his water bottle is empty.
He gets out of the car, and rings the doorbell at the front of Amy's house.
Bzzz!
Car seems to be alright, says Sweezus.
Yes, says Mrs Hume. Perhaps I needn't have asked you to come. You looked busy.
It's alright, says Sweezus. I was writing.
How's it coming along? asks Mrs Hume.
It's pretty awesome, says Sweezus. I can't wait to get it finished.
Well, you'll have four hours in the car while I'm at Amy's baby shower, says Mrs Hume.
Lucky I brought some paper and a pen, says Sweezus.
Not the crucifix? says Mrs Hume
No, the boxing frog, says Sweezus.
..........
It's a hot day. Sweezus is parked outside Amy's house in the sun. It's a new suburb and there are as yet no trees.
A stream of women and children enter the house with blue wrapped boxes. The sounds of hilarity float through the open front door.
He gets out his notepad and the boxing frog pen. It's the first time he's used it. Bzzz! Bop, bop! When you press a button the arms of the frog punch the air. That's kind of cool.
Richard the Third doesn't think so.
Richard the Third is not a happye manne.
He wisheth to goe inside the house of Amy, for the daye is hotte.
Butte he must bethinke him of the meanynge of the nexte sentence of Beyoncé:
'Onley connecte'
What manner of necromancying womman is this Beyoncé?
Shee hath trewe knoweledge of his dedde bones!
How many timmes hath he preyed themme to connecte agayne that he may bee wholle, and rise up fromm the car parke?
In sooth she is a verye witche!
The eyen of the kinge fille up with teeres.
Sweezus stops writing. That's enough. He is wringing wet.
Two hours to go, and his water bottle is empty.
He gets out of the car, and rings the doorbell at the front of Amy's house.
Bzzz!
Friday, February 8, 2013
Creative Juices
Sweezus is searching for a voice. The voice of Richard the Third. He thinks Richard the Third probably sounded something like Chaucer.
This is going to be a challenge. Should Beyoncé sound like Chaucer? Perhaps it will be alright if he just tones down the spelling.
He looks again at Beyoncés first sentence. Life is like a shopping list.
Liffe es likken to an liste for shoppinge, he writes.
That's not bad. The more he reads it the more it makes sense.
Richard the Third thinks it makes sense too.
Richard has seene many a shoppinge liste in the Leicester car park. They bloow about, underneathen the cars.
Sometimes he redes themme.
Porke Saussages, he redes. Milche. Bredde.
These listes maken himme to thinken of the pleasures of eating.
It helpes himme to passen the time onder the grounde.
Sweezus is very pleased with this. He feels it has the ring of authenticity.
He shows it to Bunny. She thinks so too.
Mrs Hume enters the office in a tizz.
Mrs Hume! says Bunny. You look like you're in a tizz!
I am in a tizz, says Mrs Hume. I'm late for a baby shower. And my car's making that funny noise again. Where's David?
Out, says Bunny. Why don't you let Sweezus drive you?
Sweezus doesn't want to bung up his creative juices. But he guesses he will have to go.
Alright Mrs Hume, says Sweezus. I'll drive you to the baby shower. Let's go.
This is going to be a challenge. Should Beyoncé sound like Chaucer? Perhaps it will be alright if he just tones down the spelling.
He looks again at Beyoncés first sentence. Life is like a shopping list.
Liffe es likken to an liste for shoppinge, he writes.
That's not bad. The more he reads it the more it makes sense.
Richard the Third thinks it makes sense too.
Richard has seene many a shoppinge liste in the Leicester car park. They bloow about, underneathen the cars.
Sometimes he redes themme.
Porke Saussages, he redes. Milche. Bredde.
These listes maken himme to thinken of the pleasures of eating.
It helpes himme to passen the time onder the grounde.
Sweezus is very pleased with this. He feels it has the ring of authenticity.
He shows it to Bunny. She thinks so too.
Mrs Hume enters the office in a tizz.
Mrs Hume! says Bunny. You look like you're in a tizz!
I am in a tizz, says Mrs Hume. I'm late for a baby shower. And my car's making that funny noise again. Where's David?
Out, says Bunny. Why don't you let Sweezus drive you?
Sweezus doesn't want to bung up his creative juices. But he guesses he will have to go.
Alright Mrs Hume, says Sweezus. I'll drive you to the baby shower. Let's go.
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Inside Richard the Third
Beyoncé is writing her list of philosophical ideas.
Life is like a shopping list, she writes. This is a philosophical idea that came to her quite suddenly in bed the night before.
Only connect, she writes. This is her favourite quote from E M Forster.
Damn, she says looking at her watch. What time is it? I'm late for yoga.
She reviews her list.
She remembers that there needs to be something about cycling.
Cycling, she writes. The word looks funny. Where is Jay-Z when you need him?
Cycling is good, recycling's better, writes Beyoncé. There. That'll have to do.
She presses SEND.
............
Bunny shows Beyoncé's list to Sweezus.
See how you go with that, says Bunny. And remember, no paragraphs. And that you're Richard the Third.
Sweezus peers at the list.
Life is like a shopping list, he reads.
Fuck, what does Beyoncé mean? He has no idea.
A shopping list. A list of things you need. Okay, thinks Sweezus. That must be what she means.
He is just about to write that down when he remembers. It doesn't matter what he thinks Beyoncé means. What matters is what Richard the Third would think she means.
Instead of being fazed, he tries to think himself inside the head of Richard.
It's a technique Sweezus has learned from his creative writing course.
Richard the Third lived in a time pre-dating shopping lists. That's a fact. But he has spent the last five hundred years buried under a car park. He must have seen a few.
Life is like a shopping list, she writes. This is a philosophical idea that came to her quite suddenly in bed the night before.
Only connect, she writes. This is her favourite quote from E M Forster.
Damn, she says looking at her watch. What time is it? I'm late for yoga.
She reviews her list.
She remembers that there needs to be something about cycling.
Cycling, she writes. The word looks funny. Where is Jay-Z when you need him?
Cycling is good, recycling's better, writes Beyoncé. There. That'll have to do.
She presses SEND.
............
Bunny shows Beyoncé's list to Sweezus.
See how you go with that, says Bunny. And remember, no paragraphs. And that you're Richard the Third.
Sweezus peers at the list.
Life is like a shopping list, he reads.
Fuck, what does Beyoncé mean? He has no idea.
A shopping list. A list of things you need. Okay, thinks Sweezus. That must be what she means.
He is just about to write that down when he remembers. It doesn't matter what he thinks Beyoncé means. What matters is what Richard the Third would think she means.
Instead of being fazed, he tries to think himself inside the head of Richard.
It's a technique Sweezus has learned from his creative writing course.
Richard the Third lived in a time pre-dating shopping lists. That's a fact. But he has spent the last five hundred years buried under a car park. He must have seen a few.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Beyoncé's Ghost
Beyoncé is excited. She shows the email to her husband.
Look at this, Jay-Z, says Beyoncé. They've invited me to write an article for Velosophy.
Woah, Bee! says Jay-Z. You have reached the pinnacle of fame! What is Velosophy? I never even heard of it.
Sure you have, says Beyoncé. Have you heard of Voltaire? Have you heard of David Hume? Have you heard of Camus, Wittgenstein, Murdoch? Have you heard of the philosophy of bicycles?
Slow down, says Jay-Z. I'm with you now. So you have to write something bicyclo-philo-sophical! That's cool.
Think I'll say yes, says Beyoncé. It's an honour.
Sure, says Jay-Z. And Blue Ivy will be so proud of her mommy. Won't you little girl?
He jiggles little Blue Ivy on his knee, then lifts her up to kiss her on the nose.
Blue Ivy giggles at her dad, and burps creamily.
Ooh, says Jay-Z, wiping her mouth with his sleeve.
I'm awfully busy, says Beyoncé. With tours and exercise and things. And all my philanthropical work. And baby too. How will I find the time to write it?
Get it ghosted, Bee, says Jay-Z. Send them a short list of ideas, and they can write it up.
I love you honey, says Beyoncé. That's exactly what I'll do.
..........
Now Bunny is excited. Beyoncé has replied almost immediately.
Beyoncé's saying yes! says Bunny.
Awesome, says Sweezus.
But she's awfully busy, says Bunny.
She would be, says Sweezus.
She's sending us a list of ideas and she wants us to ghost the article, says Buuny.
Shit, says Sweezus. Vello won't like that.
We don't have to tell Mr Drone, says Bunny. Who can we get to ghost it?
Richard the Third, says Sweezus.
How? asks Bunny.
It was a joke, says Sweezus. Richard the Third is dead.
Yes, says Bunny. That's why you're going to have to write his piece for him.
Sweezus thinks about this, and how it would be creative, and therefore good for his career.
Okay, says Sweezus, I will. But we still have the problem of Beyoncé.
Problem solved, says Bunny. 'Richard the Third' can do Beyoncé's too. You being Richard the Third.
Sweezus is so impressed with the triple irony of this idea, he fails to realise that he'll be doing all the writing.
Look at this, Jay-Z, says Beyoncé. They've invited me to write an article for Velosophy.
Woah, Bee! says Jay-Z. You have reached the pinnacle of fame! What is Velosophy? I never even heard of it.
Sure you have, says Beyoncé. Have you heard of Voltaire? Have you heard of David Hume? Have you heard of Camus, Wittgenstein, Murdoch? Have you heard of the philosophy of bicycles?
Slow down, says Jay-Z. I'm with you now. So you have to write something bicyclo-philo-sophical! That's cool.
Think I'll say yes, says Beyoncé. It's an honour.
Sure, says Jay-Z. And Blue Ivy will be so proud of her mommy. Won't you little girl?
He jiggles little Blue Ivy on his knee, then lifts her up to kiss her on the nose.
Blue Ivy giggles at her dad, and burps creamily.
Ooh, says Jay-Z, wiping her mouth with his sleeve.
I'm awfully busy, says Beyoncé. With tours and exercise and things. And all my philanthropical work. And baby too. How will I find the time to write it?
Get it ghosted, Bee, says Jay-Z. Send them a short list of ideas, and they can write it up.
I love you honey, says Beyoncé. That's exactly what I'll do.
..........
Now Bunny is excited. Beyoncé has replied almost immediately.
Beyoncé's saying yes! says Bunny.
Awesome, says Sweezus.
But she's awfully busy, says Bunny.
She would be, says Sweezus.
She's sending us a list of ideas and she wants us to ghost the article, says Buuny.
Shit, says Sweezus. Vello won't like that.
We don't have to tell Mr Drone, says Bunny. Who can we get to ghost it?
Richard the Third, says Sweezus.
How? asks Bunny.
It was a joke, says Sweezus. Richard the Third is dead.
Yes, says Bunny. That's why you're going to have to write his piece for him.
Sweezus thinks about this, and how it would be creative, and therefore good for his career.
Okay, says Sweezus, I will. But we still have the problem of Beyoncé.
Problem solved, says Bunny. 'Richard the Third' can do Beyoncé's too. You being Richard the Third.
Sweezus is so impressed with the triple irony of this idea, he fails to realise that he'll be doing all the writing.
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
You Only Live Once
Beyoncé? says The VeloDrone. Do we know Beyoncé?
No, says David. I don't think we do.
You two! says Mrs Hume, who has been sitting in the corner with her feet up.You never do keep up. Beyoncé is a singer. She sang at half time at the Superbowl last week. She's very famous. I'm sure she has an interesting philosophy.
A singer! says The VeloDrone. Well, well! And you think she'll have an interesting philosophy?
There you go again! says Bunny. Being sarcastic. If you weren't such an old stick in the mud you'd know that EVERYONE has an interesting philosophy.
Of course they do, says The VeloDrone. We do not differ, Bunny. And what is your philosophy?
YOLO, says Bunny.
The VeloDrone is stumped. He has not heard of YOLO.
YOLO? says The VeloDrone, turning to David.
David shrugs. He doesn't know.
Sweezus looks at the ceiling. He doesn't go along with YOLO.
Tch! says Mrs Hume. If you two would only read the newspaper!
We do not need the newspaper, mother, says David. The internet is perfectly adequate.
No, no, says Mrs Hume. In the newspaper you occasionally find lists of the latest expressions of young people. It's not something you would think to look up on the internet.
It's not a latest expression, says Bunny. It's been around for EVER. Anyway, I'm about to write an email to Beyoncé. Do I have your permission, Mr Drone?
Certainly, says The VeloDrone, recovering his authority. Make sure she understands it is an honour.
Bunny begins to type.
Belle et Bonne comes back into the office with a plate of biscuits.
How's the brainstorming going? asks Belle et Bonne.
Very well, says The VeloDrone. We're thinking of Beyoncé.
Good choice, says Belle et Bonne. Beyoncé is .......
Hot! says Sweezus.
I bet Beyoncé was your idea, says Belle et Bonne to Sweezus.
No she wasn't, says Sweezus. She was Bunny's excellent idea.
Bunny looks pleased.
What's your idea? asks Bunny. Have you got one?
Richard the Third, says Sweezus. They dug him up last week.
Very funny, says The Velodrone. I don't think he qualifies as a philosopher.
Probably didn't even ride a bike, says David.
And he's dead, says Bunny. Sweezus, that's a brilliant idea!
No, says David. I don't think we do.
You two! says Mrs Hume, who has been sitting in the corner with her feet up.You never do keep up. Beyoncé is a singer. She sang at half time at the Superbowl last week. She's very famous. I'm sure she has an interesting philosophy.
A singer! says The VeloDrone. Well, well! And you think she'll have an interesting philosophy?
There you go again! says Bunny. Being sarcastic. If you weren't such an old stick in the mud you'd know that EVERYONE has an interesting philosophy.
Of course they do, says The VeloDrone. We do not differ, Bunny. And what is your philosophy?
YOLO, says Bunny.
The VeloDrone is stumped. He has not heard of YOLO.
YOLO? says The VeloDrone, turning to David.
David shrugs. He doesn't know.
Sweezus looks at the ceiling. He doesn't go along with YOLO.
Tch! says Mrs Hume. If you two would only read the newspaper!
We do not need the newspaper, mother, says David. The internet is perfectly adequate.
No, no, says Mrs Hume. In the newspaper you occasionally find lists of the latest expressions of young people. It's not something you would think to look up on the internet.
It's not a latest expression, says Bunny. It's been around for EVER. Anyway, I'm about to write an email to Beyoncé. Do I have your permission, Mr Drone?
Certainly, says The VeloDrone, recovering his authority. Make sure she understands it is an honour.
Bunny begins to type.
Belle et Bonne comes back into the office with a plate of biscuits.
How's the brainstorming going? asks Belle et Bonne.
Very well, says The VeloDrone. We're thinking of Beyoncé.
Good choice, says Belle et Bonne. Beyoncé is .......
Hot! says Sweezus.
I bet Beyoncé was your idea, says Belle et Bonne to Sweezus.
No she wasn't, says Sweezus. She was Bunny's excellent idea.
Bunny looks pleased.
What's your idea? asks Bunny. Have you got one?
Richard the Third, says Sweezus. They dug him up last week.
Very funny, says The Velodrone. I don't think he qualifies as a philosopher.
Probably didn't even ride a bike, says David.
And he's dead, says Bunny. Sweezus, that's a brilliant idea!
Monday, February 4, 2013
What's Wrong With Old People
I'm good with a camera, says Arthur.
Brilliant! says Midge. So here's my camera. Take care of it. Get used to it. Take as many shots as you like, whatever appeals to you. And then come back and show me what you've got.
Arthur sets off with the camera. He wonders what it's worth.
Midge drops everyone else at the Velosophy office, then drives off to return Surf Fink to Wicked Campers.
Papa! David! says Belle et Bonne, entering the office. Guess what? I've found replacements for Marie and me.
Oh good, says The VeloDrone. Who?
Sweezus and Bunny, says Belle et Bonne. They'll be great. They already have some new ideas.
The Velodrone looks doubtfully at David.
Good! Let's hear these new ideas, says David.
Yes, says The VeloDrone. Let's hear 'em. Sweezus you go first.
Not me, says Sweezus. Bunny.
Yes me, says Bunny. So, Mr Drone, your magazine is about bicycles and philosophy right?
Right, says The VeloDrone. Absolutely right. Spot on.
That's exactly what's wrong with you old people, says Bunny.
Pardon? says The VeloDrone.
Always sarcastic, says Bunny. Young people don't like that kind of stuff.
Just how was I sarcastic? asks The VeloDrone.
You said Right! Absolutely right! Spot on! says Bunny. You didn't have to say it three times. God, I bet your magazine is full of.....paragraphs!
Paragraphs! says The VeloDrone. Of course it is!
We won't be doing paragraphs, says Bunny.
Right on! says Sweezus. No paragraphs! He likes this creative new idea.
And, says Bunny, I bet your magazine is full of articles by boring old philosophers, like ....oh I don't know, Socrates and Aristotle.
We wish! says David. But actually my dear, our contributors are not boring. We have had articles by Wittgenstein, Iris Murdoch, Camus.....
Camus! cries The VeloDrone. That reminds me! Did he ever send his article in?
Not yet, says Belle et Bonne. Perhaps you ought to ring him.
Who does he think he is? says The VeloDrone. Proust?
David is the only one who thinks that's funny.
Well, forget about Camus, says Bunny. I'm going to ask Beyoncé. She so cool. She's got the best philosophy ever and she rides a bike.
She does? says Sweezus. Yeah, I bet she does.
Probably, says Bunny. That's how she keeps so fit. If she writes something everyone will read it. What do you think of that idea, Mr Drone?
Brilliant! says Midge. So here's my camera. Take care of it. Get used to it. Take as many shots as you like, whatever appeals to you. And then come back and show me what you've got.
Arthur sets off with the camera. He wonders what it's worth.
Midge drops everyone else at the Velosophy office, then drives off to return Surf Fink to Wicked Campers.
Papa! David! says Belle et Bonne, entering the office. Guess what? I've found replacements for Marie and me.
Oh good, says The VeloDrone. Who?
Sweezus and Bunny, says Belle et Bonne. They'll be great. They already have some new ideas.
The Velodrone looks doubtfully at David.
Good! Let's hear these new ideas, says David.
Yes, says The VeloDrone. Let's hear 'em. Sweezus you go first.
Not me, says Sweezus. Bunny.
Yes me, says Bunny. So, Mr Drone, your magazine is about bicycles and philosophy right?
Right, says The VeloDrone. Absolutely right. Spot on.
That's exactly what's wrong with you old people, says Bunny.
Pardon? says The VeloDrone.
Always sarcastic, says Bunny. Young people don't like that kind of stuff.
Just how was I sarcastic? asks The VeloDrone.
You said Right! Absolutely right! Spot on! says Bunny. You didn't have to say it three times. God, I bet your magazine is full of.....paragraphs!
Paragraphs! says The VeloDrone. Of course it is!
We won't be doing paragraphs, says Bunny.
Right on! says Sweezus. No paragraphs! He likes this creative new idea.
And, says Bunny, I bet your magazine is full of articles by boring old philosophers, like ....oh I don't know, Socrates and Aristotle.
We wish! says David. But actually my dear, our contributors are not boring. We have had articles by Wittgenstein, Iris Murdoch, Camus.....
Camus! cries The VeloDrone. That reminds me! Did he ever send his article in?
Not yet, says Belle et Bonne. Perhaps you ought to ring him.
Who does he think he is? says The VeloDrone. Proust?
David is the only one who thinks that's funny.
Well, forget about Camus, says Bunny. I'm going to ask Beyoncé. She so cool. She's got the best philosophy ever and she rides a bike.
She does? says Sweezus. Yeah, I bet she does.
Probably, says Bunny. That's how she keeps so fit. If she writes something everyone will read it. What do you think of that idea, Mr Drone?
Sunday, February 3, 2013
The Second Goodbye
They drop Tom-Jelte at the airport.
Now that he's gone, says Belle et Bonne, I want a word with you, Sweezie.
If it's about the money I took from the collection box, says Sweezus, I only...
It wasn't, says Belle et Bonne, but it is now! You took money from the collection box! How could you? Did Arthur put you up to it?
She glares at Arthur.
Not Arthur! says Mrs Hume. Arthur was feeling poorly. He was outside the tent, being sick.
Belle et Bonne is convinced Arthur had something to do with it. Sweezus is easily led.
What did you want a word about then? asks Sweezus.
About Bunny, says Belle, and what she can do.
Me? says Bunny. About what I can do?
If you're going to live in Adelaide, says Belle et Bonne, you'll need somewhere to live, and some means of support.
Can't I live with you? says Bunny.
That's the thing, says Belle et Bonne. Marie and I are going to Paris for a holiday.
Another holiday, says Sweezus. You girls.
At least we work for our money, says Belle et Bonne.
Sweezus looks crushed.
While we're away papa and David will need someone to work in the office. How would you both like a temporary job? And Bunny could live in our flat.
Oh wow! I'd love that, says Bunny. What do you do?
We edit an online magazine called Velosophy, says Belle et Bonne. Famous people write articles on philosophy and cycling and we publish the best ones. Marie and I, we do the selections. Papa and David are always too....er....
Professionally jealous, says Mrs Hume.
Oh Katherine, don't let them hear you say that, says Belle et Bonne. What do you say Sweezie dear? You can earn some money and it's sort of like creative writing.
Awesome, says Sweezus, with little enthusiasm.
What'll I do? says Arthur, who is feeling left out.
Are you reliable? asks Midge.
Arthur is always reliable, says Mrs Hume.
Then I'll give you a job, says Midge. How are you with a camera?
Now that he's gone, says Belle et Bonne, I want a word with you, Sweezie.
If it's about the money I took from the collection box, says Sweezus, I only...
It wasn't, says Belle et Bonne, but it is now! You took money from the collection box! How could you? Did Arthur put you up to it?
She glares at Arthur.
Not Arthur! says Mrs Hume. Arthur was feeling poorly. He was outside the tent, being sick.
Belle et Bonne is convinced Arthur had something to do with it. Sweezus is easily led.
What did you want a word about then? asks Sweezus.
About Bunny, says Belle, and what she can do.
Me? says Bunny. About what I can do?
If you're going to live in Adelaide, says Belle et Bonne, you'll need somewhere to live, and some means of support.
Can't I live with you? says Bunny.
That's the thing, says Belle et Bonne. Marie and I are going to Paris for a holiday.
Another holiday, says Sweezus. You girls.
At least we work for our money, says Belle et Bonne.
Sweezus looks crushed.
While we're away papa and David will need someone to work in the office. How would you both like a temporary job? And Bunny could live in our flat.
Oh wow! I'd love that, says Bunny. What do you do?
We edit an online magazine called Velosophy, says Belle et Bonne. Famous people write articles on philosophy and cycling and we publish the best ones. Marie and I, we do the selections. Papa and David are always too....er....
Professionally jealous, says Mrs Hume.
Oh Katherine, don't let them hear you say that, says Belle et Bonne. What do you say Sweezie dear? You can earn some money and it's sort of like creative writing.
Awesome, says Sweezus, with little enthusiasm.
What'll I do? says Arthur, who is feeling left out.
Are you reliable? asks Midge.
Arthur is always reliable, says Mrs Hume.
Then I'll give you a job, says Midge. How are you with a camera?
Saturday, February 2, 2013
The First Goodbye.
Belle et Bonne and Midge pull up in Surf Fink, just as Bunny is escaping through the bedroom window.
Bunny! calls Belle et Bonne. Where are you going?
I'm running away from dad, says Bunny. He wants to lock me up.
Outrageous! says Midge.
We'll see about that, says Belle et Bonne. Don't run away. Come back inside with us.
They knock on the front door.
Tom-Jelte opens it. He is surprised to see Bunny.
Hello! says Tom-Jelte. I think you have a twin! She is in the bedroom.
No that's me, says Bunny. I climbed out of the window.
That is funny, says Tom-Jelte. And now you come in the front door.
Yes, yes, says Midge. Can we please come in?
Yah! Come in ladies, says Tom-Jelte. The father is having a fit.
Poor dad, says Bunny. She goes into the kitchen, followed by Midge, Belle and Tom.
Lauren and Surfing-With-Whales are plying Ray Moon with water and pills.
Mrs Hume and Arthur are eating the last of the scones.
Sweezus has gone to the bathroom.
Dad, says Bunny. Are you ill?
Bunny, says Ray Moon faintly. You haven't run away?
I have, says Bunny. I just haven't gone yet.
What's this about locking her up? says Belle et Bonne.
Ray Moon hiccups and falls back in a swoon.
He's dead, says Arthur.
No he isn't, says Surfing-With-Whales. But he'll be out for some time.
Bunny looks peeved. What did you give him? she asks.
Something of mum's, says Surfing-With-Whales.
Right, says Sweezus, coming out of the bathroom. Is everyone ready to leave?
We can't leave, says Belle et Bonne. Look at Ray.
He can stay here till he wakes up, says Lauren. Bob and I will look after him. You can go.
What about me? says Bunny. I'm not staying if he is.
Come with us then, says Belle et Bonne. You'll have more fun in Adelaide than here.
They all go outside and pile into the camper. Bunny, Sweezus, Arthur, Mrs Hume, Belle et Bonne, Midge and Tom-Jelte.
Bye! they wave to the ones they are leaving behind, who are conscious.
Surfing-With-Whales watches the van disappear.
Lost the girlfriend and gained the father, says Lauren. Bad luck again, dear.
Bunny! calls Belle et Bonne. Where are you going?
I'm running away from dad, says Bunny. He wants to lock me up.
Outrageous! says Midge.
We'll see about that, says Belle et Bonne. Don't run away. Come back inside with us.
They knock on the front door.
Tom-Jelte opens it. He is surprised to see Bunny.
Hello! says Tom-Jelte. I think you have a twin! She is in the bedroom.
No that's me, says Bunny. I climbed out of the window.
That is funny, says Tom-Jelte. And now you come in the front door.
Yes, yes, says Midge. Can we please come in?
Yah! Come in ladies, says Tom-Jelte. The father is having a fit.
Poor dad, says Bunny. She goes into the kitchen, followed by Midge, Belle and Tom.
Lauren and Surfing-With-Whales are plying Ray Moon with water and pills.
Mrs Hume and Arthur are eating the last of the scones.
Sweezus has gone to the bathroom.
Dad, says Bunny. Are you ill?
Bunny, says Ray Moon faintly. You haven't run away?
I have, says Bunny. I just haven't gone yet.
What's this about locking her up? says Belle et Bonne.
Ray Moon hiccups and falls back in a swoon.
He's dead, says Arthur.
No he isn't, says Surfing-With-Whales. But he'll be out for some time.
Bunny looks peeved. What did you give him? she asks.
Something of mum's, says Surfing-With-Whales.
Right, says Sweezus, coming out of the bathroom. Is everyone ready to leave?
We can't leave, says Belle et Bonne. Look at Ray.
He can stay here till he wakes up, says Lauren. Bob and I will look after him. You can go.
What about me? says Bunny. I'm not staying if he is.
Come with us then, says Belle et Bonne. You'll have more fun in Adelaide than here.
They all go outside and pile into the camper. Bunny, Sweezus, Arthur, Mrs Hume, Belle et Bonne, Midge and Tom-Jelte.
Bye! they wave to the ones they are leaving behind, who are conscious.
Surfing-With-Whales watches the van disappear.
Lost the girlfriend and gained the father, says Lauren. Bad luck again, dear.
Friday, February 1, 2013
Traps, Threats and Insults
Hello dad!, says Bunny Moon. I wasn't expecting you.
Pchah! So I see! says Pastor Moon, choking on his scone.
Are you alright Ray? says Mrs Hume, hiding her glee at seeing Ray discomfited.
Yes! I am alright, says Pastor Moon. Bunny, get dressed at once. We're leaving!
I'm not leaving, says Bunny. I like it here.
She can stay as long as she likes, says Lauren Swales. She's a treasure. She's been helping in the craft shop.
Bunny! says Pastor Moon. I have not brought you up to be a helper in a craft shop. But that is beside the point. Were you sleeping with this disreputable young man?
Yes I was, says Bunny. Sorry dad. You weren't meant to find out.
Disreputable? says Surfing-With-Whales. Did he call me disreputable?
I always find you out, Bunny, says Pastor Moon, sternly. Now you're coming home with me. It seems I shall have to lock you in the house again.
Lock her in the house? says Mrs Hume. Are you joking? How old is Bunny?
Seventeen, says Pastor Moon.
Same as me, says Arthur. But Surfing-With-Whales is older.
He's more my age, says Sweezus, thoughtfully.
Am I ? says Surfing -With-Whales. How old are you?
Thirty ....ish, says Sweezus.
I'm not thirtyish, says Surfing-With-Whales, looking at his mum, and then at Bunny.
Aren't you? says Arthur. I have to say you look it.
That's surfing for you, says Surfing-With-Whales. The sun, the wind, they dry your skin up bad.
Badly, says Arthur.
Badly, says Surfing-With-Whales.
Do you use a moisturiser? asks Mrs Hume. I have worn moisturiser every day since I was a teenager, and look at my skin. Do you know how old I am?
No, how old are you, Mrs Hume? asks Tom-Jelte, who has up to now kept silent.
Guess! says Mrs Hume.
Tom-Jelte has fallen into a trap.
He looks at Arthur.
Arthur has no idea how old Mrs Hume is. She is the oldest person he has ever known.
Perhaps a hundred?
Arthur makes an X with his fingers. Then he makes another one.
Tom-Jelte is smart enough to know this information will not turn out useful.
There is a silence, while Pastor Moon turns purple.
Ray! says Lauren Swales. You're turning purple. Would you like another cup of tea? A raisin scone?
No thank you, Lauren, says Pastor Moon. You'd best keep out of this. I'm taking Bunny home.
He steps forward to grab hold of his daughter
Bunny runs back into the bedroom and locks the door.
Pchah! So I see! says Pastor Moon, choking on his scone.
Are you alright Ray? says Mrs Hume, hiding her glee at seeing Ray discomfited.
Yes! I am alright, says Pastor Moon. Bunny, get dressed at once. We're leaving!
I'm not leaving, says Bunny. I like it here.
She can stay as long as she likes, says Lauren Swales. She's a treasure. She's been helping in the craft shop.
Bunny! says Pastor Moon. I have not brought you up to be a helper in a craft shop. But that is beside the point. Were you sleeping with this disreputable young man?
Yes I was, says Bunny. Sorry dad. You weren't meant to find out.
Disreputable? says Surfing-With-Whales. Did he call me disreputable?
I always find you out, Bunny, says Pastor Moon, sternly. Now you're coming home with me. It seems I shall have to lock you in the house again.
Lock her in the house? says Mrs Hume. Are you joking? How old is Bunny?
Seventeen, says Pastor Moon.
Same as me, says Arthur. But Surfing-With-Whales is older.
He's more my age, says Sweezus, thoughtfully.
Am I ? says Surfing -With-Whales. How old are you?
Thirty ....ish, says Sweezus.
I'm not thirtyish, says Surfing-With-Whales, looking at his mum, and then at Bunny.
Aren't you? says Arthur. I have to say you look it.
That's surfing for you, says Surfing-With-Whales. The sun, the wind, they dry your skin up bad.
Badly, says Arthur.
Badly, says Surfing-With-Whales.
Do you use a moisturiser? asks Mrs Hume. I have worn moisturiser every day since I was a teenager, and look at my skin. Do you know how old I am?
No, how old are you, Mrs Hume? asks Tom-Jelte, who has up to now kept silent.
Guess! says Mrs Hume.
Tom-Jelte has fallen into a trap.
He looks at Arthur.
Arthur has no idea how old Mrs Hume is. She is the oldest person he has ever known.
Perhaps a hundred?
Arthur makes an X with his fingers. Then he makes another one.
Tom-Jelte is smart enough to know this information will not turn out useful.
There is a silence, while Pastor Moon turns purple.
Ray! says Lauren Swales. You're turning purple. Would you like another cup of tea? A raisin scone?
No thank you, Lauren, says Pastor Moon. You'd best keep out of this. I'm taking Bunny home.
He steps forward to grab hold of his daughter
Bunny runs back into the bedroom and locks the door.
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