Out on the sand spit:
The red-capped plover regards Gaius with his sticky eye.
Tik tik quis?
Gaius knows Latin, but he replies in English:
I'm Gaius Plinius Secundus, natural historian.
Spik Latin, dik dik! says the red-capped plover.
Gaius realises the situation.
You birds speak Latin? Mirabilis! May I ask you unus or duo quaestiones?
Nik nik! Responde mea quaestione! says the red capped plover, rudely.
Tik tik, says Gaius politely. Quid est?
Veracitas me portere albo underpants? asks the red capped plover.
Quidquid notio? asks Gaius. White underpants? ( puzzled, and lapsing into English).
The red-capped plover lowers his rufous crown and plunges his beak towards the questionable word on Gaius's notepad.
Underpants (as he sees it).
Underparts (as it is).
Non, non, says Gaius. Error maximus faces! White underparts, it's there in black and white!
The red- capped plover turns his head and peers at the offending word with his non-sticky eye.
Excusatio! Scrip-scrip terrabilis! says the red-capped plover.
And with that he hops back to the meeting of Important Birds.
Gaius follows him, on tip toe.
Will they continue to speak Latin? What a coup it will be, if they do.
But: Tik tik! Zwitt zwitt!. Kleep klepp! Sqaaaaah! Wheeeoo!
The Important Birds are in a tizz about something.
They have begun speaking in their mystic language, consisting of whistles and a degree of combinatorial phonology.
I see no alternative but to give a plain translation:
Pied oystercatcher: That fool has dropped his wheeled horse on our nest and all our eggs are broken!
Second pied oystercatcher: Alas! Broken, broken!
Fairy tern: The price you pay for wintering here.
Second pied oystercatcher: Alas! It should not be so.
Fairy tern: Of course but....
Red-capped plover: And he thinks we wear white underpants as well.
Pied oystercatcher: Shameful!
Fairy tern: Let's all defecate on his wheeled horse, that will send a message.
Red-capped plover: Ha ha, yes! What's that saying? No one shits on me with impunity?
Fairy tern: It's Latin isn't it, that saying?
Red-capped plover: No, it's originally Bird.
Second pied oystercatcher: Never mind that, come on, let's do it!
They flutter up and one by one, they do it.
And so it is that when Gaius meets the others on the Tasman Highway just north of Orford, they are surprised to see his bicycle, formerly blue in colour, now sporting crusty speckles, brown and white.
Saturday, June 21, 2014
A Brief Moment Of Dismay
In Orford:
Unni, Arthur, Schopenhauer and Captain Louttit are in Scorchers, eating wood oven pizzas.
I wouldn't choose this one again, says Schopenhauer. Sweet relish overpowers the taste of trout.
Give me the trout, says Captain Louttit. I'll eat it.
The trout's the best bit, says Schopenhauer. It's the sweet relish that's the problem.
And the crust's too thin, says Unni. I'm still hungry.
Me too, says Arthur. I'll order another one.
He goes over to the counter.
Captain Louttit watches him go.
That red beret that Arthur's wearing, says Captain Louttit, licking sweet relish from his feelers. I don't know why but it reminds me of an old acquaintance.
Arthur says it reminds him of Ageless, says Unni.
Captain Louttit does a double take.
Ageless! says Captain Louttit. Don't tell me you know him!
We know him, says Unni. He rode with us last year in the Tour de France. What a balls-up that was. How do you know him?
Everyone knows him, says Captain Louttit.
I don't know him, says Schopenhauer.
Arthur comes back to the table.
I ordered ham and pineapple, he says,
Everyone at the table looks disgusted.
.....
Out at the sand spit:
The Important Birds are having a meeting on the sand, behind a clump of ammophila, or marram grass.
The Important Birds present at the meeting are:
Two Red-capped Plovers
Two Pied Oystercatchers
One Fairy Tern
Absent are three more Fairy Terns, who have flown north for the winter.
They communicate in incomprehensible bird language, as follows:
Red-capped Plover : tik tik ....tik tik
Pied Oystercatcher: klepp kleep......kleep klepp
Fairy Tern: zwitt zwitt zwitt....
Gaius drops his bicycle onto a clump of marram grass, not noticing a faint crunching sound, and creeps up on the Important Birds.
He takes out his notebook, and a pencil, and begins to write the following description:
white underparts....rufous crown and hindneck...pale loreal stripe
The red-capped plover hops over to him and takes a look at what he's writing.
The red-capped plover has a sticky eye, so when he reads (quite wrongly) his own description:
white underpants
he is dismayed (briefly).
Unni, Arthur, Schopenhauer and Captain Louttit are in Scorchers, eating wood oven pizzas.
I wouldn't choose this one again, says Schopenhauer. Sweet relish overpowers the taste of trout.
Give me the trout, says Captain Louttit. I'll eat it.
The trout's the best bit, says Schopenhauer. It's the sweet relish that's the problem.
And the crust's too thin, says Unni. I'm still hungry.
Me too, says Arthur. I'll order another one.
He goes over to the counter.
Captain Louttit watches him go.
That red beret that Arthur's wearing, says Captain Louttit, licking sweet relish from his feelers. I don't know why but it reminds me of an old acquaintance.
Arthur says it reminds him of Ageless, says Unni.
Captain Louttit does a double take.
Ageless! says Captain Louttit. Don't tell me you know him!
We know him, says Unni. He rode with us last year in the Tour de France. What a balls-up that was. How do you know him?
Everyone knows him, says Captain Louttit.
I don't know him, says Schopenhauer.
Arthur comes back to the table.
I ordered ham and pineapple, he says,
Everyone at the table looks disgusted.
.....
Out at the sand spit:
The Important Birds are having a meeting on the sand, behind a clump of ammophila, or marram grass.
The Important Birds present at the meeting are:
Two Red-capped Plovers
Two Pied Oystercatchers
One Fairy Tern
Absent are three more Fairy Terns, who have flown north for the winter.
They communicate in incomprehensible bird language, as follows:
Red-capped Plover : tik tik ....tik tik
Pied Oystercatcher: klepp kleep......kleep klepp
Fairy Tern: zwitt zwitt zwitt....
Gaius drops his bicycle onto a clump of marram grass, not noticing a faint crunching sound, and creeps up on the Important Birds.
He takes out his notebook, and a pencil, and begins to write the following description:
white underparts....rufous crown and hindneck...pale loreal stripe
The red-capped plover hops over to him and takes a look at what he's writing.
The red-capped plover has a sticky eye, so when he reads (quite wrongly) his own description:
white underpants
he is dismayed (briefly).
Friday, June 20, 2014
A Good Plan That Can't Possibly Go Wrong
Next morning, they debate the wisdom of leaving a note for Lisa Gershwin.
What should we say? says Unni. We've reclaimed Captain Louttit and we're sorry about the kettle?
Perhaps not, says Gaius. The power's off throughout the building. Who knows how many specimens have been affected? I'm thinking of the legal liability.
And it's Sunday, says Schopenhauer, complacently. No one need know.
So it's decided. They will remain anonymous.
Wake up Arthur! says Unni, shaking Arthur's shoulder. We're leaving.
Wagh! says Arthur. I mean....what?
Leaving, says Unni.
Wait! says Captain Louttit. How am I to travel? I've become accustomed to the special CSIRO water.
We shall bring some with us, says Gaius. Arthur, will you please find a container?
Arthur looks at Captain Louttit. What a princess. He's been wandering around Hobart for ages without any sort of water. And look at him in that stupid, stupid hat.
Arthur grabs the pale blue cloche hat from the head of Captain Louttit, and goes over to the waste bin in the corner. Tipping the waste onto the floor, ( paper, fish bones, hypodermic needles, cotton wool ) he pulls out the plastic bin liner and stuffs it into Captain Louttit's pale blue felt cloche hat.
Now that the hat is waterproof, Arthur fills it up with special CSIRO salt water from the private saltwater aquarium.
Get in, says Arthur.
Captain Louttit sticks one of this smallest legs in.
Ugh! Too cold! says Captain Louttit.
That's your fault, says Unni. The thermostat's not working. Nothing is. Come on, get in, we're going.
And so they leave the CSIRO Marine and Atmospheric Research Centre, just a tad worse than they found it.
.......
It is seventy eight kilometres from Hobart to Orford. Gaius, Schopenhauer, Arthur and Unni cycle down the Tasman Highway, in the crisp air of a winter Sunday morning.
Captain Louttit rides in Schopenhauer's basket, in his upturned bin-lined pale blue felt cloche hat.
Schnnnffffff! sniffs Schopenhauer. Is that the bin-liner?
Yes, says Captain Louttit. Nice, isn't it. I must thank Arthur. I must have seemed ungrateful at the time.
I'll pass it on, says Schopenhauer, riding faster.
.........
By lunch time they have reached the little coastal town of Orford, where the Prosser River enters Prosser Bay.
Orford, says Gaius, I feel I should know something about Orford. What is it?
Unni gets out her phone.
IBA, says Unni. Important Bird Area, identified by BirdLife International.
Wonderful! says Gaius. Where exactly?
A sandspit on the northern side of the Prosser River, says Unni, but we haven't .....
It's lunch time, says Schopenhauer.
And Arthur also thinks that it is lunch time.
I'll tell you what, says Gaius. To save time, I'll go out to the sand spit, while you all go into Orford and get some lunch. I'll meet you on the other side of Orford in an hour or two.
This seems like a good plan that can't possibly go wrong.
What should we say? says Unni. We've reclaimed Captain Louttit and we're sorry about the kettle?
Perhaps not, says Gaius. The power's off throughout the building. Who knows how many specimens have been affected? I'm thinking of the legal liability.
And it's Sunday, says Schopenhauer, complacently. No one need know.
So it's decided. They will remain anonymous.
Wake up Arthur! says Unni, shaking Arthur's shoulder. We're leaving.
Wagh! says Arthur. I mean....what?
Leaving, says Unni.
Wait! says Captain Louttit. How am I to travel? I've become accustomed to the special CSIRO water.
We shall bring some with us, says Gaius. Arthur, will you please find a container?
Arthur looks at Captain Louttit. What a princess. He's been wandering around Hobart for ages without any sort of water. And look at him in that stupid, stupid hat.
Arthur grabs the pale blue cloche hat from the head of Captain Louttit, and goes over to the waste bin in the corner. Tipping the waste onto the floor, ( paper, fish bones, hypodermic needles, cotton wool ) he pulls out the plastic bin liner and stuffs it into Captain Louttit's pale blue felt cloche hat.
Now that the hat is waterproof, Arthur fills it up with special CSIRO salt water from the private saltwater aquarium.
Get in, says Arthur.
Captain Louttit sticks one of this smallest legs in.
Ugh! Too cold! says Captain Louttit.
That's your fault, says Unni. The thermostat's not working. Nothing is. Come on, get in, we're going.
And so they leave the CSIRO Marine and Atmospheric Research Centre, just a tad worse than they found it.
.......
It is seventy eight kilometres from Hobart to Orford. Gaius, Schopenhauer, Arthur and Unni cycle down the Tasman Highway, in the crisp air of a winter Sunday morning.
Captain Louttit rides in Schopenhauer's basket, in his upturned bin-lined pale blue felt cloche hat.
Schnnnffffff! sniffs Schopenhauer. Is that the bin-liner?
Yes, says Captain Louttit. Nice, isn't it. I must thank Arthur. I must have seemed ungrateful at the time.
I'll pass it on, says Schopenhauer, riding faster.
.........
By lunch time they have reached the little coastal town of Orford, where the Prosser River enters Prosser Bay.
Orford, says Gaius, I feel I should know something about Orford. What is it?
Unni gets out her phone.
IBA, says Unni. Important Bird Area, identified by BirdLife International.
Wonderful! says Gaius. Where exactly?
A sandspit on the northern side of the Prosser River, says Unni, but we haven't .....
It's lunch time, says Schopenhauer.
And Arthur also thinks that it is lunch time.
I'll tell you what, says Gaius. To save time, I'll go out to the sand spit, while you all go into Orford and get some lunch. I'll meet you on the other side of Orford in an hour or two.
This seems like a good plan that can't possibly go wrong.
Thursday, June 19, 2014
He Hasn't Even Heard The Question
Captain Louttit leads them to an unlatched door behind the CSIRO Marine and Atmospheric Centre.
Shh! They slip inside.
They tiptoe to the lab with the private saltwater aquarium, where there's a burning smell.
The power is off, but every few seconds the room lights up, thanks to the searchlights from the installation built by Rafael Lozano-Hemmer.
Gaius feels along the lab bench for the kettle.
Flash! There it is.
It seems to have boiled dry and there is black stuff on the wall around the electric socket.
Gaius points it out to Captain Louttit.
A salutory lesson for you, says Gaius.
Yes, says Schopenhauer. It's simple science. Never leave a kettle boiling.
Health and Safety, says Unni. It isn't even science. Just common sense.
I am first a lobster, says Captain Louttit, and second a sea captain, and third, the only one of our party who has had the forethought to secure a room in Hobart. So I will thank you all to shut up and be grateful. It's only a kettle.
Gaius, Schopenhauer, Unni and Arthur realise at once that this is true.
And anyway, what sort of laboratory has a kettle that doesn't have an automatic cutoff?
So they begin to speak of more important things.
What next? says Unni. Go home the way we came?
No, says Schopenhauer. Gaius and I decided it was a mistake to leave the coastline. Small wonder we were unsuccessful.
Hear, hear, says Captain Louttit. Stick to the coastline.
Okay, says Unni. I suggest we go back via Swansea, Bay of Fires and........the Dismal Swamp.
She looks at everyone in turn to see if anyone objects to Dismal Swamp.
It's the only blackwood sinkhole on earth. It would be such a shame to miss it, continues Unni.
Indeed? says Gaius pricking up his ears. The only....?
Dismal Swamp it is, says Schopenhauer.
Gaius looks annoyed.
It's just a teeny weeny bit out of the way, says Unni.
We must remember, says Gaius, that we need to get home in time to make our preparations for the Tour de France. When is it, Arthur?
Arthur has been looking through the window trying to mesmerize himself by staring at the flashing searchlights.....
Flash....flash....flash.....flash....flash.......
.....and he hasn't even heard the question.
Shh! They slip inside.
They tiptoe to the lab with the private saltwater aquarium, where there's a burning smell.
The power is off, but every few seconds the room lights up, thanks to the searchlights from the installation built by Rafael Lozano-Hemmer.
Gaius feels along the lab bench for the kettle.
Flash! There it is.
It seems to have boiled dry and there is black stuff on the wall around the electric socket.
Gaius points it out to Captain Louttit.
A salutory lesson for you, says Gaius.
Yes, says Schopenhauer. It's simple science. Never leave a kettle boiling.
Health and Safety, says Unni. It isn't even science. Just common sense.
I am first a lobster, says Captain Louttit, and second a sea captain, and third, the only one of our party who has had the forethought to secure a room in Hobart. So I will thank you all to shut up and be grateful. It's only a kettle.
Gaius, Schopenhauer, Unni and Arthur realise at once that this is true.
And anyway, what sort of laboratory has a kettle that doesn't have an automatic cutoff?
So they begin to speak of more important things.
What next? says Unni. Go home the way we came?
No, says Schopenhauer. Gaius and I decided it was a mistake to leave the coastline. Small wonder we were unsuccessful.
Hear, hear, says Captain Louttit. Stick to the coastline.
Okay, says Unni. I suggest we go back via Swansea, Bay of Fires and........the Dismal Swamp.
She looks at everyone in turn to see if anyone objects to Dismal Swamp.
It's the only blackwood sinkhole on earth. It would be such a shame to miss it, continues Unni.
Indeed? says Gaius pricking up his ears. The only....?
Dismal Swamp it is, says Schopenhauer.
Gaius looks annoyed.
It's just a teeny weeny bit out of the way, says Unni.
We must remember, says Gaius, that we need to get home in time to make our preparations for the Tour de France. When is it, Arthur?
Arthur has been looking through the window trying to mesmerize himself by staring at the flashing searchlights.....
Flash....flash....flash.....flash....flash.......
.....and he hasn't even heard the question.
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
The Consolations Of Technology
Those are my friends, says Schopenhauer, waving. Yoo hoo!
Unni stops.
That looks like Schopenhauer, she says.
They all go over to the bench where Schopenhauer is chatting with Rafael Lozano-Hemmer.
Here you are! says Unni. Did you and Gaius find any traces of the giant jellyfish?
No, says Schopenhauer. We decided we had reached an end point. And an end point, in science, is of course a new beginning.
Rafael Lozano-Hemmer looks impressed.
By the way, this is Rafael Lozano Hemmer, says Schopenhauer. The searchlights that you see criss-crossing the sky are part of his installation. It is based on the frustration of the human will.
Beaudelaire and Camus both look impressed.
Rafael Lozano-Hemmer less so.
At this moment Gaius returns.
Remarkable, says Gaius. I've been manipulating one of the levers. At first I thought that I was in control.....
But, says Rafael Lozano-Hemmer, as the different beams crossed in the sky they resisted your control and began to pulsate autonomously in the darkness.
Oh, says Gaius. Was it deliberate?
Yes, says Rafael Lozano-Hemmer.
I thought something was wrong, says Gaius. I tried dismantling it......I see now that I shouldn't have.
You succeeded ? asks Rafael Lozano-Hemmer.
No, no, says Gaius. I am a natural historian, not an engineer. The lever is slightly bent though and some paint is flaking off......
And now:
Let us leave this awkward scene.
Let us say it is five minutes later.
Rafael Lozano-Hemmer has gone off to his hotel.
Beaudelaire and Camus are about to go to theirs.
Would Arthur like to go with them?
No, for some odd reason Arthur would rather not.
Goodbye then. It was lovely. And thank you for the hats. Not to mention the invitation to the Red Death Ball, which was nothing less than thrilling.
Bye now. Bye now. Perhaps we'll meet again one day. Yes, hope so........
And now here are the four cyclists on a freezing night in Hobart, with nowhere to go.
Phuuff, says Unni. With all these people here for Dark Mofo, we'll never get a room.
Surely! says Schopenhauer.
Unni tries Wotif, Trivago, Tripadvisor and Last Minute.
Nothing available. Not even a cupboard.
Fear not, says Captain Louttit, (who has waited until now, for increased drama). I left a door unlatched at the CSIRO Marine and Atmospheric Research Centre, and the kettle boiling.
Only the first part of this sentence is consoling.
Unni stops.
That looks like Schopenhauer, she says.
They all go over to the bench where Schopenhauer is chatting with Rafael Lozano-Hemmer.
Here you are! says Unni. Did you and Gaius find any traces of the giant jellyfish?
No, says Schopenhauer. We decided we had reached an end point. And an end point, in science, is of course a new beginning.
Rafael Lozano-Hemmer looks impressed.
By the way, this is Rafael Lozano Hemmer, says Schopenhauer. The searchlights that you see criss-crossing the sky are part of his installation. It is based on the frustration of the human will.
Beaudelaire and Camus both look impressed.
Rafael Lozano-Hemmer less so.
At this moment Gaius returns.
Remarkable, says Gaius. I've been manipulating one of the levers. At first I thought that I was in control.....
But, says Rafael Lozano-Hemmer, as the different beams crossed in the sky they resisted your control and began to pulsate autonomously in the darkness.
Oh, says Gaius. Was it deliberate?
Yes, says Rafael Lozano-Hemmer.
I thought something was wrong, says Gaius. I tried dismantling it......I see now that I shouldn't have.
You succeeded ? asks Rafael Lozano-Hemmer.
No, no, says Gaius. I am a natural historian, not an engineer. The lever is slightly bent though and some paint is flaking off......
And now:
Let us leave this awkward scene.
Let us say it is five minutes later.
Rafael Lozano-Hemmer has gone off to his hotel.
Beaudelaire and Camus are about to go to theirs.
Would Arthur like to go with them?
No, for some odd reason Arthur would rather not.
Goodbye then. It was lovely. And thank you for the hats. Not to mention the invitation to the Red Death Ball, which was nothing less than thrilling.
Bye now. Bye now. Perhaps we'll meet again one day. Yes, hope so........
And now here are the four cyclists on a freezing night in Hobart, with nowhere to go.
Phuuff, says Unni. With all these people here for Dark Mofo, we'll never get a room.
Surely! says Schopenhauer.
Unni tries Wotif, Trivago, Tripadvisor and Last Minute.
Nothing available. Not even a cupboard.
Fear not, says Captain Louttit, (who has waited until now, for increased drama). I left a door unlatched at the CSIRO Marine and Atmospheric Research Centre, and the kettle boiling.
Only the first part of this sentence is consoling.
To Do With Human Will Power
In the Town Hall foyer:
What do you think? says Unni, pulling out the military cap.
Impossible! says Captain Louttit. I might as well continue to wear a barnacle! Where are they, by the way, those barnacles?
We let them go, says Unni. At Cemetery Rock.
Go? says Captain Louttit. My crew! You had no right to.
You didn't own them, says Unni.
I was in charge of them, says Captain Louttit.
Well, they're better off, says Unni. There was heavy wave action, and probably a tube worm zone as well.
No hat, no crew, sighs Captain Louttit. What else can go wrong?
I can't help noticing, says Unni, that you have a lovely mask on. Where did you get it?
Made it myself, says Captain Louttit, sulkily.
It's very nice, says Unni. It matches ...well it would have matched.... your carapace.
Silence.
I suppose you'll grow a new one, says Unni.
Silence.
Well, says Unni. I'm off now. Brrr! I bet it's cold outside.
She rummages in her back pack for a scarf or something.
And out drops the pale blue cloche.
Captain Louttit's eyes are out on stalks. Whoop! A pale blue cloche hat, made of wool, with a bit of cotton hanging off the side.
Oops! says Unni, the flower has fallen off. Who cares though.......stupid hat.
Don't you want it? asks Captain Louttit.
........
Outside:
Even more freezing.
Gaius has wandered down towards the Franklin Wharf, to have a go at manipulating one of the levers in the Articulated Intersect searchlight installation.
Schopenhauer, less scientifically minded, remains on the bench beside the Mexican-Canadian.
You seem to know a lot about it, says Schopenhauer.
It's my installation, says Rafael Lozano-Hemmer.
Quite simple I imagine, says Schopenhauer.
Not at all, says Rafael Lozano-Hemmer. There are the locations, and the angles, not to mention that the levers sometimes act against the will of the operator ......but perhaps you are not technically minded.
As a matter of fact, says Schopenhauer, I am deeply interested in anything to do with human will power.
Then why are you sitting on this bench my friend? asks Rafael Lozano-Hemmer. And why is it your companion who has gone down to the wharf to try and operate the lever?
I have always been something of an armchair philosopher......begins Schopenhauer.
But Rafael Lozano-Hemmer has stopped listening.
He is looking at the passing parade.
The passing parade at this moment is particularly interesting.
A tall young woman in a military cap and thermals, followed by a lobster in an over sized blue cloche hat, with a red horned mask just visible under the brim.
Behind them, a man in a black studded cloak and a mask of fractured mirrors, another man in a trench coat and red pitted plague mask, and a younger man in a red beret with eye holes, a black Bossini jacket with a Johnny collar, and Brave Soul Paisley Skull shorts, and whose knees do not look in the best condition.
What do you think? says Unni, pulling out the military cap.
Impossible! says Captain Louttit. I might as well continue to wear a barnacle! Where are they, by the way, those barnacles?
We let them go, says Unni. At Cemetery Rock.
Go? says Captain Louttit. My crew! You had no right to.
You didn't own them, says Unni.
I was in charge of them, says Captain Louttit.
Well, they're better off, says Unni. There was heavy wave action, and probably a tube worm zone as well.
No hat, no crew, sighs Captain Louttit. What else can go wrong?
I can't help noticing, says Unni, that you have a lovely mask on. Where did you get it?
Made it myself, says Captain Louttit, sulkily.
It's very nice, says Unni. It matches ...well it would have matched.... your carapace.
Silence.
I suppose you'll grow a new one, says Unni.
Silence.
Well, says Unni. I'm off now. Brrr! I bet it's cold outside.
She rummages in her back pack for a scarf or something.
And out drops the pale blue cloche.
Captain Louttit's eyes are out on stalks. Whoop! A pale blue cloche hat, made of wool, with a bit of cotton hanging off the side.
Oops! says Unni, the flower has fallen off. Who cares though.......stupid hat.
Don't you want it? asks Captain Louttit.
........
Outside:
Even more freezing.
Gaius has wandered down towards the Franklin Wharf, to have a go at manipulating one of the levers in the Articulated Intersect searchlight installation.
Schopenhauer, less scientifically minded, remains on the bench beside the Mexican-Canadian.
You seem to know a lot about it, says Schopenhauer.
It's my installation, says Rafael Lozano-Hemmer.
Quite simple I imagine, says Schopenhauer.
Not at all, says Rafael Lozano-Hemmer. There are the locations, and the angles, not to mention that the levers sometimes act against the will of the operator ......but perhaps you are not technically minded.
As a matter of fact, says Schopenhauer, I am deeply interested in anything to do with human will power.
Then why are you sitting on this bench my friend? asks Rafael Lozano-Hemmer. And why is it your companion who has gone down to the wharf to try and operate the lever?
I have always been something of an armchair philosopher......begins Schopenhauer.
But Rafael Lozano-Hemmer has stopped listening.
He is looking at the passing parade.
The passing parade at this moment is particularly interesting.
A tall young woman in a military cap and thermals, followed by a lobster in an over sized blue cloche hat, with a red horned mask just visible under the brim.
Behind them, a man in a black studded cloak and a mask of fractured mirrors, another man in a trench coat and red pitted plague mask, and a younger man in a red beret with eye holes, a black Bossini jacket with a Johnny collar, and Brave Soul Paisley Skull shorts, and whose knees do not look in the best condition.
Sunday, June 15, 2014
The Usurper-Hero
Camus and Beaudelaire are in the green room, bickering.
You switched parts deliberately, says Camus. And I know why.
Oh, do you? says Beaudelaire.
I do, says Camus. You're furious because I bought the three hats. You're jealous.
Not at all, says Beaudelaire. I thought it would be an amusing reversal. You as the Red Death, me as Prince Prospero. My turn to be the hero.
And wield the knife, says Camus. And in short, control the action, while I.....
Arthur and Unni enter the green room.
Albert, says Unni. Where's your costume? Are you okay?
Yes, says Camus. No thanks to Charles, the usurper-hero.
The atmosphere is icy in the green room.
Arthur pulls his red beret down over his ears until his nose sticks out through one of the eye holes.
Ha ha, laughs someone from behind a high backed chair.
Who is it? Unni goes over.
Black cloak and red horned mask notwithstanding, there's no doubt it's Captain Louttit.
Captain Louttit! cries Unni. What a surprise! And why are you laughing? You can't possibly see Arthur through the chair.
Captain Louttit has been laughing at the phrase usurper-hero, not at Arthur.
But when he sees Arthur, he laughs even louder.
Nice one, says Captain Louttit. Then suddenly, remembering his loss.....
A hat! Where did you get it? asks Captain Louttit.
Is this the famous lobster? asks Camus. The one we bought the hat for?
Captain Louttit leaps out of his chair.
Ouff! Not a good idea when you're without your carapace.
Oh no! Poor Captain Louttit! cries Unni.
Did you buy me a Captain's hat? asks Captain Louttit, faintly.
Yes, Captain Louttit, says Unni. Well...... no, not exactly, but it's the next best thing.......come with me. It's in my back pack in the foyer.
She picks him up and carries him from the green room.
Let's go, says Beaudelaire. I want to see this. He's bound not to like it.
He'll like it, says Albert Camus. What do you think, Arthur?
It'll test his strength of character, says Arthur, raising the red beret, and earning the admiration of the writers
.......
Outside. Brrrr!
Schopenhauer and Gaius are being treated to a light show above the Hobart skyline.
Eighteen searchlights cut the sky like sabres, in six pods of three.
Spectacular, says Schopenhauer. But a waste of money.
Indeed, says Gaius. Wonderful, but profligate.
A third person sits down on the bench beside them.
You must spend money to make money, says the third person, in a Mexican-Canadian accent. These festivals bring in the tourists, and this light installation, Articulated Intersect, is a draw card. The public can manipulate the lights themselves, by means of levers.....
On hearing this, Gaius becomes interested in learning more about the workings, but Schopenhauer's opinion remains the same, which is part of the reason he will never be a decent scientist.
You switched parts deliberately, says Camus. And I know why.
Oh, do you? says Beaudelaire.
I do, says Camus. You're furious because I bought the three hats. You're jealous.
Not at all, says Beaudelaire. I thought it would be an amusing reversal. You as the Red Death, me as Prince Prospero. My turn to be the hero.
And wield the knife, says Camus. And in short, control the action, while I.....
Arthur and Unni enter the green room.
Albert, says Unni. Where's your costume? Are you okay?
Yes, says Camus. No thanks to Charles, the usurper-hero.
The atmosphere is icy in the green room.
Arthur pulls his red beret down over his ears until his nose sticks out through one of the eye holes.
Ha ha, laughs someone from behind a high backed chair.
Who is it? Unni goes over.
Black cloak and red horned mask notwithstanding, there's no doubt it's Captain Louttit.
Captain Louttit! cries Unni. What a surprise! And why are you laughing? You can't possibly see Arthur through the chair.
Captain Louttit has been laughing at the phrase usurper-hero, not at Arthur.
But when he sees Arthur, he laughs even louder.
Nice one, says Captain Louttit. Then suddenly, remembering his loss.....
A hat! Where did you get it? asks Captain Louttit.
Is this the famous lobster? asks Camus. The one we bought the hat for?
Captain Louttit leaps out of his chair.
Ouff! Not a good idea when you're without your carapace.
Oh no! Poor Captain Louttit! cries Unni.
Did you buy me a Captain's hat? asks Captain Louttit, faintly.
Yes, Captain Louttit, says Unni. Well...... no, not exactly, but it's the next best thing.......come with me. It's in my back pack in the foyer.
She picks him up and carries him from the green room.
Let's go, says Beaudelaire. I want to see this. He's bound not to like it.
He'll like it, says Albert Camus. What do you think, Arthur?
It'll test his strength of character, says Arthur, raising the red beret, and earning the admiration of the writers
.......
Outside. Brrrr!
Schopenhauer and Gaius are being treated to a light show above the Hobart skyline.
Eighteen searchlights cut the sky like sabres, in six pods of three.
Spectacular, says Schopenhauer. But a waste of money.
Indeed, says Gaius. Wonderful, but profligate.
A third person sits down on the bench beside them.
You must spend money to make money, says the third person, in a Mexican-Canadian accent. These festivals bring in the tourists, and this light installation, Articulated Intersect, is a draw card. The public can manipulate the lights themselves, by means of levers.....
On hearing this, Gaius becomes interested in learning more about the workings, but Schopenhauer's opinion remains the same, which is part of the reason he will never be a decent scientist.
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