The scene: a pub in London. enter Charles Knight, Crashfrog, and Randman. They have been drinking. They just recently watched a parade in which the Queen of England participated.
Charles Knight: I guess I got old Brenda today, hey chaps?
Crashfrog: Yeah, you son of a bitch, pissing on her carriage. You almost got us arrested.
Charles: Well, so long as we are not . . . Fuck, shit, piss. etc. Cock, cunt, etc. Ah, that felt good.
Randman: I saw something today that reminded me of Heackel's drawings.
Crashfrog: Jesus Christ, the man has a one-track mind. What on earth could have reminded you of Haeckel's Drawings?
Randman: All this British tradition stuff. The carriages. It reminded me of how we have endoctrinated ourselves with the mindset of evolution.
[Enter Jar. He's a very large man, must weigh at least 250 lbs. He pushes through the crowd with gusto.]
Crashfrog: Who is that? Acts like a big shot.
Charles: He IS a big shot. He's what we call in old England a moderator.
Crashfrog: What the fuck is that?
Charles: Well, you know, lad, in the states you have the FBI. We have moderators. By the way, Randman, old chump, he's not too crazy about Haeckel's drawings. If I were you, I would keep a low profile. Just a little advice. Shit, fuck, piss. etc. By the way, have I shown you my pictures of Jesus in bed with Shrafinator?
[Enter Holmes, on the make, dressed elaborately in drag.]
Holmes (approaches the group): Howdydo. Would any of you gents be interested in making a porn movie? I can guarantee a good time will be had by all. Plenty of degradation. Try it! It's fun!
[Enter Nosyned]
Crashfrog: Who is that?
Charles: Another moderator. We call him Pinnochio, for obvious reasons.
Crashfrog: You got nicknames for everything, don't you?
Charles: Yah, lad. That's the way we do it.
[Jar approaches the group in a threatening manner].
Jar: What is going on here? I've warned you about this before, Holmes.
Holmes: I beg your pardon? All I am doing is fraternizing with my fellow Americans.
Randman: Yeah, well, if you are a true American, why don't you live in the United States of America? Next to of course God America I sing. How do you feel about Haeckel's drawings?
Holmes: Randman, I will be happy to discuss this matter with you at a more appropriate time. You have to understand that I have been trained rather thoroughly to be totally unbiased. Therefore, I do not resent your remarks. But I do have my prejudices! Don't we all!
Crashfrog (under his breath): I can't wait to get back to Missouri.
Randman: Yes, but can you provide any justification as to why there are not more transitional fossils? Can you explain that? I've done my research.
Holmes: Yes, I can explain everything. But you have to be willing to listen, and I detect a fear in your eyes. I've seen that fear before . . .
[enter Evopeach]
SCENE II:Scene: same London pub, except that the customers are more intoxicated and the air is smokier than before.
EvoPeach: Even as we speak, the hybridization of logos onto matter occurs and re-occurs mysteriously. The negentropic systems along the hermeneutical highway of coded messages enables this subject for example [pointing at Crashfrog] to quaff that fermented malty beverage--
Crashfrog (looking up from his beer): Huh?
EvoPeach:--known in vulgar parlance as "beer." Moreover, the prestige which exudes from the credentials of the organization to which I am proud to belong enables me to lord it over you, sweetie.
Jar (talking on a cellphone): I need back-up.
Holmes (talking to Randman and Charles Knight): We all have prejudices. I am prejudiced against ignorance, stupidity, and prudery. Especially prudery. And to show my appreciation of heterosexuality, I would like to share with you my boyhood memories of learning to turn the pages of Playboy with one hand.
[enter Percy, dressed in a three-piece suit]
Nosyned: I think, Holmes, we can do without your memoirs of masturbation.
[aside to Percy] . Holmes is one of the best conversationalists I know, if only you can keep him off the subject of sex.
Crashfrog: You are a liar, EvoPeach. I hate liars.
EvoPeach: The mystical hybridization of logos onto matter by which we--i.e, homo sapiens--digitize the known universe is a replication of the informational systematics in the genetic codification of organic forms.
Crashfrog: You arrogant, baboon-faced, sychophantic, drooling hybridization of pomposity onto ignorance--
Jar (flooring Crashfrog with a single blow from a mighty fist): You're suspended!
Percy: Ahem. Bit of an over-reaction, jar?
Jar: I had to nip it in the bud.
[Crashfrog, bloody but rebellious, creeps to the toilet, or as we like to say in the Home of the Prudes, the "restroom," also known on our beautiful highways and byways, dotted with theme parks and other amenities, as "comfort stations"].
Randman: I agree with EvoPeach, I think.
Charles Knight: You don't know your fucking arse from your fucking elbow, Randman.
Randman: But what does it mean, "the hybridization of logos onto matter"?
Nosyned: It means we can make things, Randman.
Randman: Oh. Well, I agree. We make things; God makes things. Sometimes God makes weird things, like Holmes.
Holmes (shaking his head in sad disgust): And they wonder why I don't live in the US.
SCENE IIIlocation: another part of the pub.
[enter Asgara, a barmaid. Enter Jar, Percy, and Holmes]
[enter Parasomnium from the left. Enter Faith from the far right]
Parasomnium sits down at the bar. Faith sits down a few stools away and orders a double whiskey from Asgara.
Parasomnium (staring at a painting by Constable on the wall): Sometimes I think I could go and live with the animals, they are so naturally and mindlessly designed. I stand and look at them long and long. Not one of them makes me sick discussing his duty to God; not one of them is a dualist; not one of them is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth. You know what Saint Dennett says: "The world is sacred."
Faith: What an asinine comment. Go and live with the animals--dirty, smelly monkeys from which you think we came! The whole idea is laughable. You make me sick. The world makes me sick. I want to vomit on the filth of the world.
Parasomnium: I beg your pardon?
Faith: I thought you were a girl.
Parasomnium (mysteriously): Many people do.
Faith: This sexual confusion is sickening. Look at him! [points at Holmes, who is discussing moral philosophy with Percy]. No respect for anything, no dignity, no values, no morality. You drag all of it into the dirt. Everything's a dirty joke to you. Your ideas are unfalsifiable. I spit on your ideas [Faith's voice is rising in volume].
[Jar approaches]
Parasomnium: You might want to keep your voice down. A moderator is near.
Faith: I'm not afraid of him. I'm not a coward like the unwashed, brainwashed masses.
[Faith's voice softens and becomes meditative]
"Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid; for I am with you always, to the end of the world." Sometimes when I feel down, I think on those words, and peace returns to me. We all have our own cross to bear, and part of mine is putting up with moral trash like Charles Knight.[Faith looks around the pub in disgust]. All I can say is, thank God for Kansas.
Parasomnium: You're not in Kansas anymore, Faith.
Faith: No, I'm in this cesspool of iniquity known as England, this Godless hellhole. The work ethic has completely disappeared in this country. The whole place consists of a bunch of welfare bums. Why are you mocking me? [speaking to Asgara, who was laughing]
Asgara: I'm not mocking you, dear. Another double whiskey?
Faith: Make it a triple. I need it tonight. I don't know why I even came to this evc convention. Everybody's biased. They kicked me off the science forums! Go ahead and mock me! Mock on, mock on! The antiChrist is afoot!
Scene IV
The London pub, 2:00 am. The place has thinned out, most leaving to rest up and get ready for the celebrity ball the next evening, after a day of seminars. Everyone is attending the ball with the exception of Robin who is unfortunately laid up with a severe attack of intercostal neuralgia and so is unable to leave his beloved ranch in Texas. He sends his regards.
A few diehards are still swilling down the liquor. Crashfrog, Randman, and Charles Knight occupy a booth.
Randman: I have to pee.
Crashfrog: Then do so, by all means. I think I can speak for both of us. You have our permission.
Randman: What I meant was, Crashfrog, could you watch my copy of Haeckel's drawings while I am gone? I will need them for my slide show tomorrow,and I don't want them to get stolen.
Crashfrog: It's not my job to wetnurse you through the entire evening. You can look after your own stuff.
exit Randman, muttering to himself, with Haeckel's drawings.
enter Schrafinator, wearing a sun dress. She sits down at a table near Crashfrog and Charles Knight. Crashfrog looks at her.
Schrafinator: Are you ogling me?
Crashfrog: Nope.
Schrafinator: I know I don't look like a Playboy model.
Crashfrog: Who said you had to?
Schrafinator (angrily): Society says I have to, that's who! The pressure is enormous. All my life I've struggled to have thin legs, big boobs, and a flat stomach. Why? I'll tell you why. There is a worldwide conspiracy against the female body, that's why. There's no escaping it. It's on the tv, it's on the Internet, it's in the malls and shops and corporations and government and religion and the schools--oh, the schools! Don't even let me get started on the schools! And you are telling me I don't "have to"? Oh, yes I do.
Crashfrog: Good grief.
Charles Knight: I think, laddie, that she is a little loony, you know.
Schrafinator: You can go to hell! You have no idea what it is like to be a woman!
enter Asgara, a saucy wench.
Asgara: What can I get for you, dearie?
Schrafinator: I would like a nutmeg salad, with tofu. Hold the paprika. And I would like to pre-taste the olive oil before application on the salad.
Asgara: We don't have anything fancy like that, missy. How about some nice fish and chips?
Schrafinator: Is the fish fresh?
Asgara: Fresh out of the freezer! Can't be more than a month old.
Schrafinator: I don't think so. Bring me a glass of lemon water and a cup of green tea. And bring me all the artifical sweeteners you have. I want to study the ingredients on the package.
Asgara: Watching your weight, dearie?
Schrafinator: Like a hawk. (looks at her watch). In fact, it's almost time for my 3:00 am weighing. My height/weight ratio is all wrong. My feet are too big. I have an ugly mole on the innerside of my right calf. My ears are the wrong shape for my facial type. My elbows are wrinkly.
Asgara: What a mess you are! Maybe you just need a good screwing, sweetie. I've often found that to be a good pick-me-up in the wee hours. Why, just a while ago, the cook and I were--
Schrafinator: Please. Spare me the details.
Asgara: It's only nature. I'm sure one of these gentlemen would be glad to oblige you--
Schrafinator: I wouldn't touch either of them with a pair of surgical gloves.
Asgara:--and after that a hearty breakfast. Some delicious little sausages, maybe some kippers from the market at the harbor. Sometimes I'll walk down there of a morning just to get a glimpse of the bay. Oh, how I love nature--the trees and fields, the great clouds rolling in on a stormy day. And those people who say there is no God, I wouldn't give two cents for all their learning. My, my, I seemed to have worked up an appetite.
This message has been edited by AdminPhat, 08-21-2005 05:59 PM
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