Monday, February 20, 2012

Project 2: iSpy and Sorel


iSpy and Sorel

iSpy:  What did your mother say?

Sorel:  She said nothing. 

iSpy:  Did your father agree?

Sorel:  It’s a month away, no sense in telling him now.  What did my girl tell you?

iSpy:  She didn’t need to tell me.  Provocation I am at my finest.  You have never seen such a thing as me.  Take some time to take me in - I have promises to give you.  Wandering in the dark holding hands with virtue takes you where it takes you.  I have no complaints about that.

Sorel:  I’m only doing this for her.

iSpy:  She’ll hate you if you believe that.

Sorel:  I’m only doing this for her.

iSpy:  She won’t forgive you if you tell her that.

Sorel:  I’M ONLY DOING THIS FOR HER

iSpy:  What did your mother say?

Sorel:  She said nothing.



Next

Sorel:  Can you teach me to write?

iSpy:  I can teach anyone anything.  Just ask your friend.  He knows.

Sorel:  I did; he loves you the most.  He found everything he wanted with you.  Sure, you may not have offered him much of a job, or a way to live like you offered us, but I say maybe that’s because you know I have more to offer.  I am a VALUABLE ASSET.  She is a VALUABLE ASSET.  She is VALUABLE-ER.  I’m only doing this for her don’t you know.

iSpy:  Have you told her that yet?  What did your father say?

Sorel:  I don’t need to tell him.  Two weeks is my deadline.

iSpy:  It is true you both are VALUABLE.  She provides much to this community.  You provide her.

Sorel:  What else can I provide?

iSpy:  Do you have money?  Do you have a burning desire to not see things through?

Sorel:  I suppose I do!  How far will that get me?

iSpy:  Give me some money and I’ll tell you.

Sorel:  I can get you the money.  I have a way I’d like not to discuss. 

iSpy:  I don’t need to know.  What did your mother say?

Sorel:  I think she said nothing, but I can never remember.  Here’s your money.

iSpy:  Do you have any more?  I need more to show you.

Sorel:  Words are good for now, if you have any.

iSpy:  No, no, It’d be a much better idea to show you.  Just saying words isn’t enough anymore.  Besides, I’m far more entertaining when I show, not tell.  I bet she has money.  Get some money from her.  What about your friend?  Did you ask your father?

Sorel:  He doesn’t need to know.  We can combine our money, if you see fit - if you see fit -

iSpy:  Where is your friend?

Sorel:  I thought you knew. 

iSpy:  He’s slowly going insane you know.

Sorel:  That’s to be expected.  I don’t talk to him much these days.


Next

iSpy:  New BEGINnings.

Sorel:  I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have been so brazen.

iSpy:  As well you should be.

Sorel:  She told me never to do anything just for her.

iSpy:  I told you I can make you a writer…

Sorel:  But what about my friend?

iSpy:  What about whom?

Sorel:  You said he was slowly going insane.  What happened to him?  What is happening?

iSpy:  Oh, I don’t know.  Did I say that?  I lose track -

Sorel:  I told my father -

iSpy:  - what?  Who?

Sorel:  I - told my father about you.  He was entirely surprised.

iSpy:  That is to be expected.

Sorel:  I told him you could make me a writer.

iSpy:  What did your mother say?

Sorel:  She said nothing.  I’m doing this for me.

iSpy:  I bet that’ll make her happy.

Sorel:  She is calm now, yes. 

iSpy:  You will be a renaissance here.  You will make great works; you will become the face of the written word!  I bet you can see it all right now:  all of us, circled around you, as you hold your hands filled with poor copies of your words in the air, as we prostrate ourselves before you and beg your forgiveness.

Sorel:  What about my friend?

iSpy:  What?  Who?  Why did you interrupt me?!

Sorel:  I thought you were done talking.  I’m sorry.

iSpy:  Don’t EVER interrupt me again!  Now, where was I?

Sorel:  You were saying how great a writer I will be -

iSpy:  Ah yes!  You will write great poetry, and I will give you money!  You are a great poet, am I right?

Sorel:  I may have been 5 years ago, but that was when I was just starting.

iSpy:  Oh, of course.  Well, that kind of thing never goes away.  Did you get the money?

Sorel:  I gave you money.

iSpy:  I need more.  Did she give me money?

Sorel:  We both did. 

iSpy:  Well, I don’t have a record of that here, so as long as you can get me some more before you come here, there is no worry.

Sorel:  Ok.  I’m sorry for the mix-up.

iSpy:  One last thing I must ask you.

Sorel:  Shoot.

iSpy:  Are you doing this for her?

Sorel:  I’m doing this.


Next

Sorel:  I almost hit someone in the street today with my car.

iSpy:  Yes, be careful about that - most people don’t avoid that here.

Sorel:  But the person didn’t even look at me?

iSpy:  And why should they?

Sorel:  Excellent question.

iSpy:  Are you a great writer yet?

Sorel:  No - yes - I don’t know.  I thought you were going to help me with that?

iSpy:  I only help those who help themselves.  How have you helped yourself since you’ve come here?

Sorel:  I don’t think I have.  I suppose you’re right. 

iSpy:  I’m always right.  Didn’t you know that?  Ask your friend.

Sorel:  I don’t talk to him anymore.  He left here in a fit of combustion only so long ago, don’t you remember?  It was quite the scene.  His friend was robbed.  He saw that as a sign to finally go.  He had already accidentally cut off his finger at work the day before, selling sex toys to undercover husbands, and was promptly fired for doing so.  I thought he told you.

iSpy:  No, I must have missed it.  Ah, well.  Good riddance, am I right?

Sorel:  I suppose you are.

Next

Sorel:  She’s crying again.  I don’t know what to do.

iSpy:  What do you want me to do about it?

Sorel:  She’s crying about you.  She says you lied to her.

iSpy:  I told her the same thing I told you.  And I will not be held responsible for the actions of someone else.

Sorel:  I know, you told her the truth.  I suppose you’re right.  It’s just -

iSpy:  JUST WHAT?!

Sorel:  Um, it’s just…you took advantage of her?  She -

iSpy:  She’s what!  Not a woman?!  I never take advantage of anyone!  I offer them a chance - a chance - to change.  To make their lives better!  Is it my fault none of these people make good on that chance?  Not at all!  A man walks in the street because he has given up.  He doesn’t look because he doesn’t think anyone can see him anymore.  These are not because of me.  I give people hope!  I give people that chance to be seen!

Sorel:  But I have given you so much money.  And I am not a great writer yet.  And she has given you so much money.  And she has not been taught one new lesson yet.

iSpy:  These are not my concerns!  Whatever dreams you had about this place - about me - were your own. 

Sorel:  What about my friend?

iSpy:  You have other friends!

Sorel:  No I don’t - everyone here is insufferable.  They are all filled with some kind of false promise.

iSpy:  This is not my concern.

Sorel:  No, I don’t suppose it is.

iSpy:  Are you satisfied now?

Sorel:  I suppose I am, though I am worried about one thing.

iSpy:  (Sigh) Oh, what is it now?

Sorel:  It’s just - my car. 

iSpy:  Oh, you have a car now?

Sorel:  I need it so I don’t walk across the street.

iSpy:  What is the matter with this - car?

Sorel:  It’s shaking to pieces.

iSpy:  Is it in pieces?

Sorel:  Well, no, it’s just - you never told me - I mean, I never found out about the roads here.  They’re shaking my car to pieces.

iSpy:  So get a better car.  I don’t see the problem.

Sorel:  I don’t have any money.

iSpy:  I thought you had a way.

Sorel:  I gave you all the money given to me.  The way is dead.

iSpy:  What about your work?

Sorel:  I gave you the money I made to make my copies of paper.

iSpy:  There are other ways to do that now.  Electronic.  Everything is electronic now, don’t you know?  It’s cheap, it’s freedom, and anyone can use it.  I’ll give it to you free of charge!

Sorel:  What about the money for my copies?

iSpy:  What about whom now?  You were saying?

Sorel:  The roads are shaking my car to pieces.

iSpy:  Well where are you going?

Sorel:  I want to go home.

iSpy:  What?  Where?

Sorel:  I’m afraid my car is too far shaken to make it back home.  With each divot, each pothole undertaken, my car goes one less mile to home.

iSpy:  The highway is safe.

Sorel:  It’s snowing.

iSpy:  Oh, well then you better stay. 

Sorel:  I want to go home.

iSpy:  But you haven’t finished yet.

Sorel:  She wants to go home.

iSpy:  She is so close!

Sorel:  They expect me to be home.

iSpy:  Did you tell them about your car?  They will be so disappointed in you…

Sorel:  Her mom wants her home.

iSpy:  There’s nowhere for her to stay!

Sorel:  She wants to be with her mom.

iSpy:  How long did that last before you met me?

Sorel:  I suppose you’re right.

iSpy:  I’m always right.

Sorel:  On all accounts.

iSpy:  I always keep count.

Saturday, February 18, 2012

I Do Not Lack Imagination.

I try to use humility.  I try to be humble.  Something that is absolutely...absent.  In this program I have been involved in for the past year and a half.

Maybe that's important.  Maybe it's important not to be humble.  Maybe it's important to believe everything I have to say is truly important.  Every thought I have is unique.

Though that is not the case.  And especially not the case in this program. 

It is not the purpose of this blog to be used personally, or as another conduit to shove what I write in other people's faces.  I am completely certain everyone has at least 3 other avenues (electronic avenues) in order to do that.

Anyone can write a blog.  I have a blog exclusively where I write and leave my own poetry, as well as other poems I like.  And it is somewhere on the internet no one will find.

That's why I called this blog 'A Loss of Distinction.'  Easy enough to create blogs; this meant to be used as a venue to explore the texts and ideas resulting from the class it stems from.

Not another avenue of mindlessness.  Not another place where the people of this program can plant ideas they deem 'fascinating' or 'unique.'  These words don't apply.

I have done my best to keep my mouth shut throughout my time in this program.  It is hard to do much of the time.  It hasn't been fun.  I don't have the guts to call people out on their shit; their shit flies constantly.


As for the work we have read:

Especially in Robert Duncan's work, the way it was written, I feel, directs greatly the manner in which the actor should portray the words.  Either through punctuation and spacing (Fear.  Wrath.  Disaster.  Woe.) or emphasis placed on words or phrases through capitalization (underneath the MOO- I mean, the moon...) the writing directs itself.  Of course there are not stage directions, which is a major difference, but the language and how it is written directs itself in a major way.

In Helen Adams' play, it is the same, but the form the writing plays with is of course meter and rhythm.  It too doesn't lend stage direction, but the classic elegance of the form of the writing, combined with the sillyness of the plot is what lends this play its power.  In my opinion.

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Keeping Track of Beckett

Following my apparent theme of apologizing for something at the beginning of each of these posts, I want to apologize for letting my blog for this class slip for the past week or so.

So far, I have studied Samuel Beckett in two of my classes this semester, and am ashamed to admit I was not familiar with his works before this.  That is one small reward for being involved with this area of study - when I'm introduced to something entertaining, something important, that I was not aware of before.  That is one of the shames of my life though.  I feel like I should have read far more at this point, or at least have familiarized myself with more writers.  I know in order to be a good (or even competent) writer you have to read far more than you write, and I feel at the pace I am going I will never be able to achieve the level I want my writing to be at.

Beckett's writing is only similar in my mind to Stein in that it is more entertaining to me when I'm able to see it or hear it performed in the manner with which the author intended.  Four Saints, as well as Waiting for Godot were more entertaining to me as I saw them being performed.  Maybe this is due to my lack of imagination, but sometimes it is more valuable, at least in certain pieces, to recognize the author's truest intentions first.  That statement does have to be paired with the idea, "There's always room for interpretation...in any piece."

I wish I wrote this a day ago, or even two days ago.  Not because I would've felt better about turning it in on time - it wouldn't have made me feel better - but I think I had better ideas yesterday.  I should probably write those down somewhere when I get them.