What’s happened to our adolescents
Once so quiet and acquiescent
To cause this indecent descent,
The senses tricked out in rags iridescent?
Centuries of forced aphorisms,
Epigrams, fantasies collected…
Sir, it seems uncertainty has gripped
Bewildered and bedeviled, beset by revelations
You, quick-witted and once so well-equipped
From revelry disheveled, devoid of decorations
With quips and close quotations, now stand stripped
Submerged in declarations, invalid valedictions
Whipped by nymphs now whispering and thin-lipped
Demanding preservation without any conviction…
I don’t know if it’s vulgarity
This frivolity bedecked with cruelty
Appearing with regularity
So can we call it modernized beauty?
Defended duly as disparity…
Well, one and twenty’s become notorious
For spouting saucy scribbling,
Madness, menace and mincing like a minstrel,
Gnawing and nibbling.
God’s morality treated as uproarious
Like vice and charm are siblings.
Prick, provoke to prove one’s not provincial
Dressed for the fin de siècle…
No translation of knowledge now ancient
Makes their interests natural or nascent
Tell me then, what’s your blind impression,
So long lauded, praised and prized as prescient…
From The Anatomy of Invisible Insects by The Invisible Insects
Once so quiet and acquiescent
To cause this indecent descent,
The senses tricked out in rags iridescent?
Centuries of forced aphorisms,
Epigrams, fantasies collected…
Sir, it seems uncertainty has gripped
Bewildered and bedeviled, beset by revelations
You, quick-witted and once so well-equipped
From revelry disheveled, devoid of decorations
With quips and close quotations, now stand stripped
Submerged in declarations, invalid valedictions
Whipped by nymphs now whispering and thin-lipped
Demanding preservation without any conviction…
I don’t know if it’s vulgarity
This frivolity bedecked with cruelty
Appearing with regularity
So can we call it modernized beauty?
Defended duly as disparity…
Well, one and twenty’s become notorious
For spouting saucy scribbling,
Madness, menace and mincing like a minstrel,
Gnawing and nibbling.
God’s morality treated as uproarious
Like vice and charm are siblings.
Prick, provoke to prove one’s not provincial
Dressed for the fin de siècle…
No translation of knowledge now ancient
Makes their interests natural or nascent
Tell me then, what’s your blind impression,
So long lauded, praised and prized as prescient…
From The Anatomy of Invisible Insects by The Invisible Insects
They said, "Get a philosophy degree."
That's just words on a bit of paper.
That said, they toss you into the debris
And unjustly leave your life to taper.
What's it matter now? I'm going to Shattertown.
We found the world's over-romanticized,
Impressed by heroes from the local headlines.
Profound thoughts don't exist as advertised,
Compressed in oversized picket signs.
What's it matter now? I'm going to Shattertown.
Just don't forget you're born in debt until you've died.
You're born with borrowed sentiments and dioxide.
So stay and continue to consume.
Believe until the elements are gone.
Sustain, all that matters then is volume.
Behave, we all deserve a gun.
What's it matter now? I'm going to Shattertown.
Your cover's blown; the comfort zone's for residents
Who avoid arrest and pay the rest respects and rent.
Redundancies from infancy you can't defend,
There's nothing in your head that you can't understand.
In truth, it's not altruism when we retire from resistance
And let all those motherfuckers disappear into the distance.
From The Anatomy Of Invisible Insects by The Invisible Insects
That's just words on a bit of paper.
That said, they toss you into the debris
And unjustly leave your life to taper.
What's it matter now? I'm going to Shattertown.
We found the world's over-romanticized,
Impressed by heroes from the local headlines.
Profound thoughts don't exist as advertised,
Compressed in oversized picket signs.
What's it matter now? I'm going to Shattertown.
Just don't forget you're born in debt until you've died.
You're born with borrowed sentiments and dioxide.
So stay and continue to consume.
Believe until the elements are gone.
Sustain, all that matters then is volume.
Behave, we all deserve a gun.
What's it matter now? I'm going to Shattertown.
Your cover's blown; the comfort zone's for residents
Who avoid arrest and pay the rest respects and rent.
Redundancies from infancy you can't defend,
There's nothing in your head that you can't understand.
In truth, it's not altruism when we retire from resistance
And let all those motherfuckers disappear into the distance.
From The Anatomy Of Invisible Insects by The Invisible Insects
Scene 2-Departure
SIDD enters (DSR) his apartment in the dark with a handful of letters and junk mail. The only light illuminating the simple and sparse arrangement is that from nearby street lamps and neon coming through the windows (SL).
SIDD closes the door behind him lightly, without bothering to turn lock. His movements are deliberate and executed with full awareness of his body and surroundings, careful not to make any noise, as if he shared the tiny living space with a light sleeper. He places his keys and laptop case on the entryway table and sorts through his mail in the dark. Each letter is thoughtfully considered and then neatly added to an existing stack on the table, including each bill and advertisement. A couple envelopes contain a new sympathy card, which have reached him directly or through forwarding service from distant unknowns. There is no change in his expression between the bills and the cards. He opens the card, reads the condolence, tucks it back into the envelope and places it in the same stack. The second card contains a check, which catches him by surprise as he watches it descend onto his hardwood floor. He bends to retrieve it and a beam of light that his body was blocking highlights a posed family photo housed reverently in a simple wooden frame. SIDD puts the check back in the card and the card back in its envelope and that back in the bundle. He finishes reviewing his correspondence and walks to the back window.
A pale blue is cast on his body as he regards the landscape into the distance. He places his hand on the chilled pane and lifts his eyes in contemplation. He then retrieves a small plant from the top of his dresser and places it on the window sill. The plant shines healthily in the artificial lighting. SIDD methodically prunes the one or two spare, dead leaves. He picks up the pot as if it's a small child, though his facial expression betrays no extreme joy or inspiration, it only softens respectfully. He turns the potted plant in one direction and the other, inspecting it closely. He places it back on the sill so it will receive any sun that may hit it tomorrow while he's at work. He then enters the bathroom, still in the darkness, and turns on the faucet. Fade out as SIDD prepares for bed.
SIDD enters (DSR) his apartment in the dark with a handful of letters and junk mail. The only light illuminating the simple and sparse arrangement is that from nearby street lamps and neon coming through the windows (SL).
SIDD closes the door behind him lightly, without bothering to turn lock. His movements are deliberate and executed with full awareness of his body and surroundings, careful not to make any noise, as if he shared the tiny living space with a light sleeper. He places his keys and laptop case on the entryway table and sorts through his mail in the dark. Each letter is thoughtfully considered and then neatly added to an existing stack on the table, including each bill and advertisement. A couple envelopes contain a new sympathy card, which have reached him directly or through forwarding service from distant unknowns. There is no change in his expression between the bills and the cards. He opens the card, reads the condolence, tucks it back into the envelope and places it in the same stack. The second card contains a check, which catches him by surprise as he watches it descend onto his hardwood floor. He bends to retrieve it and a beam of light that his body was blocking highlights a posed family photo housed reverently in a simple wooden frame. SIDD puts the check back in the card and the card back in its envelope and that back in the bundle. He finishes reviewing his correspondence and walks to the back window.
A pale blue is cast on his body as he regards the landscape into the distance. He places his hand on the chilled pane and lifts his eyes in contemplation. He then retrieves a small plant from the top of his dresser and places it on the window sill. The plant shines healthily in the artificial lighting. SIDD methodically prunes the one or two spare, dead leaves. He picks up the pot as if it's a small child, though his facial expression betrays no extreme joy or inspiration, it only softens respectfully. He turns the potted plant in one direction and the other, inspecting it closely. He places it back on the sill so it will receive any sun that may hit it tomorrow while he's at work. He then enters the bathroom, still in the darkness, and turns on the faucet. Fade out as SIDD prepares for bed.
"It's nothing bad, so don't be paranoid."
"No, I'm not mad. I'm embarrassed and annoyed."
"But I'm only bragging (fawning) and adoring."
"It's not 'cause you're bored, it's because you're boring, so
Don't talk about me. It can't stand it!
Your insightful gossip gospel amuses me
When my insides' possible process still confuses me
Everyone has a birthday, everyone did something last night,
Everyone staggers and slurs and has the occasional fight.
Everyone needs a life that's more than vicarious.
Everyone is good in bed, everyone's hilarious, but
Don't talk about me! I can't stand it!!"
From The Anatomy of Invisible Insects by The Invisible Insects
"No, I'm not mad. I'm embarrassed and annoyed."
"But I'm only bragging (fawning) and adoring."
"It's not 'cause you're bored, it's because you're boring, so
Don't talk about me. It can't stand it!
Your insightful gossip gospel amuses me
When my insides' possible process still confuses me
Everyone has a birthday, everyone did something last night,
Everyone staggers and slurs and has the occasional fight.
Everyone needs a life that's more than vicarious.
Everyone is good in bed, everyone's hilarious, but
Don't talk about me! I can't stand it!!"
From The Anatomy of Invisible Insects by The Invisible Insects
ACT 1- REALITY
Scene 1- No Need For Remorse
[6:00pm: The after work rush still commands traffic, even on a Wednesday night. The fluorescent lights cast neon striped shadows on the black polished tables. The bar is lined with baby boomers, cougars, and young professionals all trying to achieve their own social distraction. The mellow coffeehouse??? rock provides a fitting background soundtrack to the smoke tainted conversations around the bar. The parameter of the establishment is lined with longer tables to accommodate larger parties and food service. A collection of generic black suits huddle around empty pint glasses, and sauce stained wax paper baskets. They are all engaged in pleasant conversation laughing, drinking, and interjecting in frivolous staged arguments. Sidd listens to the playful banter keeping his hands folded in front of him smiling Sidd listens intently, and does not interject.]
ROB: I still don't get how you can look at me with a straight face, and say something that fucking retarded. I mean, that's not even regular retarded it's almost a super power, like you were hit with a retard meteor, and spreading retardation became your destiny.
MATT: Since when was it a crime to hate the Beatles?! I'm allowed not to like the Beatles.
ROB: You're entitled to your opinion but--
MATT: And my opinion is that--
ROB: But--
MATT: Is that they are okay at best.
ROB: But, some things are opinion and some things are established fact. The Beatles--
MATT: They're lyrics were pretentious and stupid. And--
ROB: It is fact that they were the first band to--
MATT: Aaaaand. And, and they weren't that groundbreaking musically. People were--
ROB: Look at the sales, that's a fact. Numbers. And how many people cite their influence.
MATT: Sales. [Scoffs.] Look at the meaningless crap that's outsold them since.
ROB: That's--
MATT: Is that what they've influenced?
ROB: That's also your opinion. So go ahead and be wrong.
[A round of amber coated shot glasses in a cold sweat on the table wait for someone to take notice. (Coworker 1) grabs one triumphantly, and thrusts it towards the middle of the group.
ROB: To The Beatles! [Takes his shot.]
MATT: Up your ass!
The others follow suit downing the stinging liquid, and let loose a collective sound of satisfaction. ROB looks past his co-workers across the room and with eye contact and a head nod alone orders another round of shots. His attention has not been shifted.
ROB: Look. Where would music be? Where would we be musically without the Beatles?
MATT: Oh, it's this. Look out Sidd, it's his ace up the sleeve.
SIDD humors the debate with an audible chuckle, but remains silent.
MATT: The Beatles did not evolve music, they were a part of evolution, cranking out old Motown covers.
ROB: Motown! Look. Anyway. That's where we would still be. People churning out meaningless songs and covering old Buddy Holly numbers. That's where we would be.
MATT: So now you're going to go all It's a Wonderful Life on us. None of us would exist if the Beatles didn't.
ROB: Look. All I know is--
MATT (drunkenly, to the whole bar): Merry Christmas, Building And Loan!
ROB: I'm just saying, we would be--
MATT: Ah! Stop forcing your opinions on us. Someone else would've come along. (throws a neighborly arm around SIDD and grins widely).
ROB: Fuck off. Sidd (Pokes him.) Weigh in here. Tell this guy he's completely abnormal. What do you think? You like the Beatles, right?
SIDD (unprepared): Well. Music really just exists to bring people together. It's not for me to judge any musician.
ROB: I was just asking if you like--
MATT: Fuck sake Rob! Let it go. Sidd's just being polite. No one likes the Beatles anymore.
SIDD: That's not quite true. I think that all music has its merit, as far as any music can have merit in the entire experience of our lives.
ROB and MATT regard each other with suspicious concern as SIDD looks down at the table momentarily.
ROB: Hey Sidd. Are you alright?
SIDD: Yeah. I'm good.
MATT: No, Sidd. You've been a little weird tonight. Really quiet. Are you feeling okay?
SIDD: Sure, thanks.
ROB and MATT make wide, prodding eyes at each other, both hesitant to take the lead on the following line of questioning. While one talks, the other steadily consumes his beer.
ROB: Well, Sidd. Look. (Shaking off his alcohol buzz to become serious). We sorta found out your Mom died--uh, I mean passed away--like, a couple weeks ago. Are you doing okay with that?
SIDD (confused): Oh--
MATT: Yeah, Anna said it came up when you guys went out. Is that even right?
SIDD (Flatly): Yeah.
ROB: But when?
SIDD: About two months ago. It's--
ROB and MATT: I'm so sorry. Yeah.
ROB (To the bar): Can we get those shots?
SIDD: Well, I appreciate it. It's not--
ROB: But it's not like you missed anytime.
MATT: Yeah, you know bereavement leave isn't taken out of vacation time. It's sep--
SIDD nods.
ROB: And you didn't mention it to us. You just come in the workstation like everything's normal.
SIDD: Everything is normal.
ROB: Not really. Your Mom died.
SIDD: It does happen every day.
ROB: What?
MATT: How many moms do you have?
SIDD (laughs): No, no. People die. That happens every day.
MATT: Yeah, but--You know, you can be sad, we won't rag on you about it. It was your Mom.
ROB: Where are those Shots!
SIDD: Moms die, too.
MATT: That's creepy, man. Did you hate her?
SIDD(forced to explain): No, no. Not at all. My mom was a great woman! And I loved her. She did so much for me throughout my life. She was sick. Years of smoking will always catch up to you (Looks around to confirm that there's no one smoking around him. It is a no-smoking establishment, though.) We knew it was coming for a long time and what would one more day of her suffering do for anyone? It's really not that big of a deal. Thanks, though.
ROB: Aw, Sidd, I didn't mean to …
SIDD: Don't think--don't worry about it. You didn't do anything you didn't mean to.
The second round of shots finally arrives and the glasses hit the table with a moist bang.
MATT (takes a glass): My turn. To Sidd's Mom--uhh…
SIDD (laughs): I gotta get going. Thanks, though.
ROB: Come on. (Lifts glass.)
SIDD: No, no. I have to be up and in early tomorrow.
MATT: For what? It's Saturday! What's going on?
SIDD turns to leave.
ROB: So Sidd, we'll still see you on Sunday, right?
SIDD: Definitely. Still 4 O clock?
ROB: Yup…so…You sure you're okay?
SIDD: Yes. Cheers, guys. Thanks. Bye.
Leaving, he hears MATT.
MATT (Indignant): You've never seen It's A Wonderful Life!!!
Scene 1- No Need For Remorse
[6:00pm: The after work rush still commands traffic, even on a Wednesday night. The fluorescent lights cast neon striped shadows on the black polished tables. The bar is lined with baby boomers, cougars, and young professionals all trying to achieve their own social distraction. The mellow coffeehouse??? rock provides a fitting background soundtrack to the smoke tainted conversations around the bar. The parameter of the establishment is lined with longer tables to accommodate larger parties and food service. A collection of generic black suits huddle around empty pint glasses, and sauce stained wax paper baskets. They are all engaged in pleasant conversation laughing, drinking, and interjecting in frivolous staged arguments. Sidd listens to the playful banter keeping his hands folded in front of him smiling Sidd listens intently, and does not interject.]
ROB: I still don't get how you can look at me with a straight face, and say something that fucking retarded. I mean, that's not even regular retarded it's almost a super power, like you were hit with a retard meteor, and spreading retardation became your destiny.
MATT: Since when was it a crime to hate the Beatles?! I'm allowed not to like the Beatles.
ROB: You're entitled to your opinion but--
MATT: And my opinion is that--
ROB: But--
MATT: Is that they are okay at best.
ROB: But, some things are opinion and some things are established fact. The Beatles--
MATT: They're lyrics were pretentious and stupid. And--
ROB: It is fact that they were the first band to--
MATT: Aaaaand. And, and they weren't that groundbreaking musically. People were--
ROB: Look at the sales, that's a fact. Numbers. And how many people cite their influence.
MATT: Sales. [Scoffs.] Look at the meaningless crap that's outsold them since.
ROB: That's--
MATT: Is that what they've influenced?
ROB: That's also your opinion. So go ahead and be wrong.
[A round of amber coated shot glasses in a cold sweat on the table wait for someone to take notice. (Coworker 1) grabs one triumphantly, and thrusts it towards the middle of the group.
ROB: To The Beatles! [Takes his shot.]
MATT: Up your ass!
The others follow suit downing the stinging liquid, and let loose a collective sound of satisfaction. ROB looks past his co-workers across the room and with eye contact and a head nod alone orders another round of shots. His attention has not been shifted.
ROB: Look. Where would music be? Where would we be musically without the Beatles?
MATT: Oh, it's this. Look out Sidd, it's his ace up the sleeve.
SIDD humors the debate with an audible chuckle, but remains silent.
MATT: The Beatles did not evolve music, they were a part of evolution, cranking out old Motown covers.
ROB: Motown! Look. Anyway. That's where we would still be. People churning out meaningless songs and covering old Buddy Holly numbers. That's where we would be.
MATT: So now you're going to go all It's a Wonderful Life on us. None of us would exist if the Beatles didn't.
ROB: Look. All I know is--
MATT (drunkenly, to the whole bar): Merry Christmas, Building And Loan!
ROB: I'm just saying, we would be--
MATT: Ah! Stop forcing your opinions on us. Someone else would've come along. (throws a neighborly arm around SIDD and grins widely).
ROB: Fuck off. Sidd (Pokes him.) Weigh in here. Tell this guy he's completely abnormal. What do you think? You like the Beatles, right?
SIDD (unprepared): Well. Music really just exists to bring people together. It's not for me to judge any musician.
ROB: I was just asking if you like--
MATT: Fuck sake Rob! Let it go. Sidd's just being polite. No one likes the Beatles anymore.
SIDD: That's not quite true. I think that all music has its merit, as far as any music can have merit in the entire experience of our lives.
ROB and MATT regard each other with suspicious concern as SIDD looks down at the table momentarily.
ROB: Hey Sidd. Are you alright?
SIDD: Yeah. I'm good.
MATT: No, Sidd. You've been a little weird tonight. Really quiet. Are you feeling okay?
SIDD: Sure, thanks.
ROB and MATT make wide, prodding eyes at each other, both hesitant to take the lead on the following line of questioning. While one talks, the other steadily consumes his beer.
ROB: Well, Sidd. Look. (Shaking off his alcohol buzz to become serious). We sorta found out your Mom died--uh, I mean passed away--like, a couple weeks ago. Are you doing okay with that?
SIDD (confused): Oh--
MATT: Yeah, Anna said it came up when you guys went out. Is that even right?
SIDD (Flatly): Yeah.
ROB: But when?
SIDD: About two months ago. It's--
ROB and MATT: I'm so sorry. Yeah.
ROB (To the bar): Can we get those shots?
SIDD: Well, I appreciate it. It's not--
ROB: But it's not like you missed anytime.
MATT: Yeah, you know bereavement leave isn't taken out of vacation time. It's sep--
SIDD nods.
ROB: And you didn't mention it to us. You just come in the workstation like everything's normal.
SIDD: Everything is normal.
ROB: Not really. Your Mom died.
SIDD: It does happen every day.
ROB: What?
MATT: How many moms do you have?
SIDD (laughs): No, no. People die. That happens every day.
MATT: Yeah, but--You know, you can be sad, we won't rag on you about it. It was your Mom.
ROB: Where are those Shots!
SIDD: Moms die, too.
MATT: That's creepy, man. Did you hate her?
SIDD(forced to explain): No, no. Not at all. My mom was a great woman! And I loved her. She did so much for me throughout my life. She was sick. Years of smoking will always catch up to you (Looks around to confirm that there's no one smoking around him. It is a no-smoking establishment, though.) We knew it was coming for a long time and what would one more day of her suffering do for anyone? It's really not that big of a deal. Thanks, though.
ROB: Aw, Sidd, I didn't mean to …
SIDD: Don't think--don't worry about it. You didn't do anything you didn't mean to.
The second round of shots finally arrives and the glasses hit the table with a moist bang.
MATT (takes a glass): My turn. To Sidd's Mom--uhh…
SIDD (laughs): I gotta get going. Thanks, though.
ROB: Come on. (Lifts glass.)
SIDD: No, no. I have to be up and in early tomorrow.
MATT: For what? It's Saturday! What's going on?
SIDD turns to leave.
ROB: So Sidd, we'll still see you on Sunday, right?
SIDD: Definitely. Still 4 O clock?
ROB: Yup…so…You sure you're okay?
SIDD: Yes. Cheers, guys. Thanks. Bye.
Leaving, he hears MATT.
MATT (Indignant): You've never seen It's A Wonderful Life!!!
Can't wait for this movie!
