(she's fucking with a slip of a man while the engine ran)
SHE'S NOT DEAD.
i can't decide if i like this bit or if it doesn't fit
LIZA
He's my Father, Bri. It can't matter to you.
BRIAN
And I'm your son...
LIZA
I know. I know, Bri--Growing up with him... if only you could understand. I know despite.. what happened.. you still enjoyed.. your youth..? (SHE trails off, eyeing BRIAN)
BRIAN
Not as much as he enjoyed it! I don't want to hear about your fuckin Oedipal psychosexual development! Tell me what you mean, don't entwine your maternal instincts with your cherished personal metaphors.
LIZA
Honey, please...
BRIAN
Tell me about how he's a dark car in a dark parkway. Tell me how the headlights illuminate your face for a moment--
LIZA
(Stung. Here we see where BRIAN went wrong somewhere in his childhood.)
Don't you twist my words--
BRIAN
Get that far away look and make your words as moving as dysentery.
(LIZA slaps BRIAN.)
the play with the paper lanterns
BRIAN
They're fighting outside my window and I can't control that. Boys and girls are getting raped all of the time in the paper and I can't control that either... and worse, it doesn't faze us anymore. Because at the top some fuckin' kid's drawn a picture of the weather report. This, Beckett, this, is something I could control... (HE makes his fingers into a gun and caresses BECKETT's head) I did this to him, that old fuck, you know what he said? ...Your hands are cold. You know what I said? .... So were yours. And then--
BECKETT
(Blankly)
Bang?
BRIAN
And then BANG.
Leni and Richard
I was writing some dialogue this morning, mildly offensive between a man talking to a whore.
I switched all of the names, making all of the man's lines the whore's, and the whore's lines, the man's.
It changed the entire meaning of the dialogue, into words that came more naturally from my fingertips, though dialogue I didn't imagine those characters could ever say to one another.
when i get bored i think of strange things
I am starting a fanzine.
It is about Kraftwerk.
It will include stories about when different fans first discovered Kraftwerk. We'll talk about Kraftwerk's progression from album to album, the importance of throbbing synths in music, the exciting Kraftwerk live show, which Kraftwerk album has the best cover art, and, Kraftwerk quizzes. If I can find someone bored enough to write Kraftwerk fanfiction, I will. If I can find someone sick enough to write Kraftwerk slash, I will.
But that's not all. I'll interview new and up coming bands about Kraftwerk. I will ask them their favorite Kraftwerk track/album, etcetera, and if they could cover a Kraftwerk song, which would it be.
It will be all Kraftwerk, all of the time.
If you would like to write for All Kraftwerk, All Of The Time, please contact me.
This message is brought to you on behalf of the four or so Kraftwerk fans left in the world.
somebody hold me
jim jones the dandy
but their stomaches are elastic
without supplies the red cats
well they're just dogs
jord, yeah, you'll never be a girl
except from this altitude
piles and piles of small pieces
of coloured paper
that won't blow away
so find me here with my girlfriend
her epithets
no matter how strong how graceful
she is, she'll turn heads and sitting in
the minds of the people we know
with only an affected flaccid
slashed wrist
oh, oh, you're really just too, too kind
contain your camp, a green carnation, a table lamp, oh, you're just too kind, he says, just too, too kind