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Saturday, May 3, 2008
Bathroom Monologue: Highly Improbable
“The scientist that does not believe in miracles does not believe in probability. The scientist who does not believe in probability does not believe in mathematics or physics. The scientist who does not believe in mathematics or physics can get the fuck out of my lab. Miracles are the rare positive things, low in probability, still occurring. Get out of my lab and look around at the world. Then look through a telescope, and see if there are any observatories looking back at you from any of the planets you can see. When you've realized what it is to be a scientist, you can come back to my lab.”
Friday, May 2, 2008
Bathroom Monologue: Geniuses fall in love too, Frankie Lymon
[GARY in a pink pinstripe suit, SPIDER in a spandex superhero costume, and ARYANA, dressed in fur-lined Valkyrie armor. ARYANA’s broadsword is propped up against the restaurant window. SPIDER’s mask is pulled up to his nose, and he is sipping a strawberry milkshake through a curly straw.]
Aryana: Why are men such fools?
Gary: Because otherwise, we'd never fall in love with you.
[ARYANA punches GARY, knocking him out of the booth]
Spider: We’re not all so bad.
Aryana: I’m unconvinced.
Spider: It’s not like I haven’t had my heart broken.
Aryana: Yeah?
Spider: It feels like they tear it right through the ribs. You can feel the emotional hole bleeding.
[GARY climbs back into the booth]
Gary: Your girlfriend was dropped off a bridge by a maniac in bionic armor. It’s not like your breakup was anything like hers.
Aryana: Actually that’s frighteningly close to mine.
[ARYANA shoves GARY out of the booth again, then leans towards SPIDER]
Aryana: What was her name?
Spider: “Wind Rider,” ironically enough.
Aryana: That’s terrible.
Gary: [From off screen] On multiple levels.
Aryana: Why are men such fools?
Gary: Because otherwise, we'd never fall in love with you.
[ARYANA punches GARY, knocking him out of the booth]
Spider: We’re not all so bad.
Aryana: I’m unconvinced.
Spider: It’s not like I haven’t had my heart broken.
Aryana: Yeah?
Spider: It feels like they tear it right through the ribs. You can feel the emotional hole bleeding.
[GARY climbs back into the booth]
Gary: Your girlfriend was dropped off a bridge by a maniac in bionic armor. It’s not like your breakup was anything like hers.
Aryana: Actually that’s frighteningly close to mine.
[ARYANA shoves GARY out of the booth again, then leans towards SPIDER]
Aryana: What was her name?
Spider: “Wind Rider,” ironically enough.
Aryana: That’s terrible.
Gary: [From off screen] On multiple levels.
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Thursday, May 1, 2008
Bathroom Monologue: Gift Certificates, OR, Monologue at a GAP Bathroom
Stores love gift certificates. To you they’re goofy fun: $50 for $50? Maybe you get it on sale, and now it’s five bucks off. It’s free money! But it’s not free money to us, the stores. It’s not because you might lose it - then we got $45 for a tiny piece of plastic. Or maybe you’ll move to a place that doesn’t have our store. Or (check the fine print) maybe it’ll expire. Again, $45 for us. It’s free money that you’re giving freely to us. They make great gifts because half the time your friends and loved ones hate our store and won’t spend them. On the occasions when they (or you) spend that whopping $20 gift certificate, they’re guaranteed to be spending it on our goods, which we’re already selling at marked up prices. Even everyday low priced items are sold at a profit. Plus you never spend $20 even. If you buy an $80 shirt with your $50 certificate, you had to drop $30 out of pocket, and if you spend it at the same store, that store nets $80. If not, it splits it $30/$50 with the other store in the same franchise. We win.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Bathroom Monologue: Oh yes I did
“Hey, what’s it when you write like through your own perspective instead of detached and stuff?”
“Who was Adam supposed to be?”
“What?”
“First person.”
“Who was Adam supposed to be?”
“What?”
“First person.”
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Bathroom Monologue: Rorschark Attack
An anonymous Washington D.C. Rationalist Think Tank was on holiday at the undisclosed beach that day. Three rationalists saw it break the surface. Tammy saw a deck of playing cards. Guido saw a platter of fried shrimp. Ironically only one of the rationalists, Virginia Welsley saw that it was a shark fin. Even more ironically, she was the only one of them in the water.
She swam like Hell. Tammy would attest that the shark went straight after Virginia, while Guido swears it swam in the opposite direction. Other beach-goers looked when they heard the screams, but the majority said they didn’t see a shark at all (while three saw an ice cream truck treading water behind Virginia).
When Virginia looked over her shoulder mid-breaststroke, she saw the gaping jaws of her third grade Math teacher – the one who always put impossible bonus questions at the end of his quizzes, presumably just to watch his pupils struggle and fail. That pungent memory felt apt as she swam for her life, and even more apt when she was seized in the middle-aged Math teacher’s jaws.
She was fortunate enough to awake, alive, in the local ICU. Apparently the shark had nearly ripped her in half. After much fighting with her doctors she was allowed to see the damage the shark had done to her torso. When the medical technician removed the bandages so that she could see the marks he instantly stepped back and crossed himself.
“It’s the Blessed Mother!” he exclaimed, looking at the bizarre shape of her bite wounds. She frowned at him and looked down.
“No it isn’t.” she said disdainfully. Then she squinted at the sutures. “Is… is that a Ferris wheel?”
She swam like Hell. Tammy would attest that the shark went straight after Virginia, while Guido swears it swam in the opposite direction. Other beach-goers looked when they heard the screams, but the majority said they didn’t see a shark at all (while three saw an ice cream truck treading water behind Virginia).
When Virginia looked over her shoulder mid-breaststroke, she saw the gaping jaws of her third grade Math teacher – the one who always put impossible bonus questions at the end of his quizzes, presumably just to watch his pupils struggle and fail. That pungent memory felt apt as she swam for her life, and even more apt when she was seized in the middle-aged Math teacher’s jaws.
She was fortunate enough to awake, alive, in the local ICU. Apparently the shark had nearly ripped her in half. After much fighting with her doctors she was allowed to see the damage the shark had done to her torso. When the medical technician removed the bandages so that she could see the marks he instantly stepped back and crossed himself.
“It’s the Blessed Mother!” he exclaimed, looking at the bizarre shape of her bite wounds. She frowned at him and looked down.
“No it isn’t.” she said disdainfully. Then she squinted at the sutures. “Is… is that a Ferris wheel?”
Monday, April 28, 2008
Bathroom Monologue: Very difficult to believe in oneself, but not in the oncoming S.U.V. doing 75 MPH in a school zone
Solipsism is a very difficult concept to politicize since any given solipsist doesn’t believe others exist. Very difficult to get people who don’t believe in each other to take numbers, stand in line or wait their turns to speak. But the National Solipsist Party is made up of liberal solipsists who are at least willing to tolerate the delusion of reality all around them. The National Solipsist Party rejects any applicants who are only minor solipsists, believing consciousness originates in the mind but that the rest of the world is still knowable to some degree. They want as devoted a crew as can still function. The N.S.P. is an understandably anarchistic group, with positions against all forms of government that directly affect them, such as selective service and the I.R.S. They claim to be against social security as well, as it anticipates a future that none of them is certain will come, but the party heads are willing to admit that, “it’s a little lower on our list of priorities.”
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Bathroom Monologue: Backed Up
Bakton was a city of some one thousand and five hundred people with two sheriffs. Considering Bakton was a brewery town, the sheriffs were overworked, and hence they were liberal to dub people deputies. Their first, Gene, was deputized on the sheriffs' first day on the job when they were giving him a friendly ride to his flophouse and stumbled across a robbery. They went in and foiled the robbers, but had Gene not been waiting outside blocking the door, the gunman would have gotten away. Instead he ran away without looking and rammed full-speed into him, knocking the wind out of Gene, and just plain knocking himself out. When Gene caught his breath, he was handed a badge. Most of his career was spent guarding an exit and helping old ladies across the street, but it was still powerfully nice of him. He saved on bills by sleeping in the empty cells at the jail instead of renting a room; on the nights when there were no free cells, he was too busy to sleep anyway. He was the first at the station when they needed help, the first they called into the car for an emergency, and the first they handed a beer to on Friday. He was the first to save a sheriff's life when he jumped on a bandit's pistol. He was the first the sheriff's department recommended to the academy, and the first to turn the academy down. Why? He didn't think the job would suit him.