?

Log in

No account? Create an account
click opera
February 2010
 
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
 
 
 
 
 
 
Fri, Jun. 26th, 2009 12:56 am
Never land.

56CommentReplyFlag

imomus
imomus
imomus
Thu, Jun. 25th, 2009 11:57 pm (UTC)

Act IV, Scene ii - A Graveyard
Enter some GRAVEDIGGAZ, with shovels, led by the RZA.

RZA: (Picking up skull)
Alas, poor Michael! I knew him, Shabazz!
A fellow of infinite jest, most dangerous crotch
The brain counselor, track fertilizer, the murdalizer
I never heard a wiser, I rue the day
For he once had the body of a Lexus Coupe!

SHABAZZ:
I musta looked upon his poster a thousand times
Musta sung his songs and rhymed his rhymes
And now how abhorred in my imagination it is!
My gorge rims at it! What kind of sick shit is
That? Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know
not how oft -- but nobody call me faggot
I'm as normal as my man Ned Raggett
'To be or not to be?' Fuck it
Death comes to all, can't no man duck it

GRYM REAPER:
You was the Grymmest -- where be your gibes now?
Your gambols? your songs? your thrillers and gore
That were wont to set the MTV awards on a roar?
Not one now, to mock your own grinning?
Where be your boys, your monkeys and women?
You fucked up chicken, now you just got fried
It was self-inflicted regicide

MASTA ASE:
Lost was the king in his golden cage
But there was no way out of the death race
The skull we kiss was once a face
Hear the eulogy of Masta Ase!

PRINCE RAKEEM / RYZARECTOR:
Yeah, more graves to dig. Goodbye
There's no need to cry...
... cause we all die

(Exeunt)

CURTAIN

Just as the audience is rising to leave, a small pile of dust at the front of the stage starts spinning as if animated by a tiny twister, elongates itself, and turns into a headless figure in a skeleton body stocking. THE FIGURE delves behind the curtain and returns with the discarded skull. In a slow, ghoulish mime, THE FIGURE places the skull atop its shoulders, straightens it like a mask and, to rapt attention and pindrop silence, starts snapping its skeletal fingers.
A flashbomb explodes and a huge bassline erupts from concealed speakers. THE FIGURE clutches its thrusting pelvic girdle, releases a bloodcurdling whoop then, powered by a tiny jetpack, shoots up to the Royal Circle box, grabs Iman from a thunderstruck David Bowie, and, dragging her behind him, soars towards a small open skylight in the roof of the theatre. The two fleeing silhouettes, visible for some minutes against a huge full moon, resemble nothing so much as Peter Pan and Tinkerbell.


ReplyThread

(Anonymous)
Fri, Jun. 26th, 2009 04:59 pm (UTC)
brilliant

I love this! Is this one of yours?


ReplyThread Parent
imomus
imomus
imomus
Fri, Jun. 26th, 2009 06:02 pm (UTC)
Re: brilliant

Yes, it's from The Tragedie of Michael Jackson, a thread I started on I Love Everything. Lots of other people chipped in, so it's a collaborative play. I think someone should commission us now to do it on the stage at The Globe.


ReplyThread Parent
stanleylieber
stanleylieber
Stanley Lieber
Sat, Jun. 27th, 2009 05:44 am (UTC)
Re: brilliant


ReplyThread Parent