Collaboration Fragment
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Anaximander's Fragment free porn video
Anaximander's Fragment
By Jacquie Windsor
SEP 2002.
A One-Act Play
Cast:
MARTIN HEIDEGGER: A German Philosopher
PRINCESS DOUHET : A Bourbon Princess
MARKUS : A Burgher From Geneva
THE CHORUS : An Assembly In Calvin's Square,
Geneva
(The Scene opens on a balcony overlooking the square. THE
CHORUS is assembled in the square below. MARKUS stands
in a tricolour cap on the fringe of THE CHORUS. MARTIN
HEIDEGGER, dressed in a black cape over a fancy nineteenth-
century suit of clothes, stands on the balcony, exhorting the
crowd. The time is late afternoon.)
HEIDEGGER:
I, Martin Heidegger, call out to all the good citizens of this
place, to prepare a trove in your heart, right next the
mementoes of your mother and the family dog, for our
stunning new heiress. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, directly from
the stages of Lyon and the boardwalks of Toulouse, and related
no less to the finest aristocrats of Savoy and Helveticus Major,
the Princess Douhet. Come on out to the balcony with me,
Princess Douhet.
(The PRINCESS DOUHET enters. She is radiant in a fine
sequinned gown and generous hair, and carrying a fatal
pulchritude unknown in the Genevan countryside.)
PRINCESS:
Good afternoon Martin. (She waves.) I bring to all of you the
genuine lineage of a family that is no stranger to the struggles
of Geneva to maintain her innocence among the villainy of our
neighbours.
HEIDEGGER:
As I gaze out upon the assembled, I detect the sturdy
scepticism of the Swiss folk. Otherwise you'd all be raving out
of control. Perhaps the stunning beauty of the Princess Douhet
has your hands collapsed beneath your skirts and trousers.
(THE CHORUS starts to applaud, tepidly.)
HEIDEGGER:
Well that's a start. The Princess has availed herself to become
your ruler by dint of a fragment I unearthed while studying the
pre-Socratic philosophers during my time in Nantes. Now
what's a fragment of ancient Greek have to do with asking you
to relinquish unheard generations of nit-picking republicanism
in return for a more monarchical style of government?
CHORUS:
Yes, Heidegger. Please tell us why.
HEIDEGGER:
I am happy you asked. Install a monarch in your city-state and
your bleak Protestant garb may immediately be switched to gay
raiment available in shops in Milan, which is situated just
down the mountain road leading south. The inexorable burden
of government shall be lifted as the valley fogs are burnt away
each day by the sun.
CHORUS:
We have a choice?
HEIDEGGER:
Oh indeed you do! When Zwingli took your hands and knotted
them together within the grim veil, you abjured happiness.
Why you may as well live in Rotterdam or Antwerp for all that
matters!
CHORUS:
Oh no! Not the Dutch!
HEIDEGGER:
Yes, as the Dutch or her tainted colonials. Now, the Princess
Douhet comes complete with a sunny disposition apart from
the dismal garb you wear each day as you toil among jurists,
thieves, populists and anarchists. She can breathe the life of a
complete being into your drab and mechanical existence.
MARKUS:
Oh sir! You intrusive Teuton! Can you not see that you are
driving us from the Sublime Garden with your pedagogy and
rhetoric? We fought for these drab colours! What use have we
of some powdered tart presuming to become our queen?
(THE CHORUS gasps. From then on, their gaze shuffles
uniformly from the balcony to the burgher MARKUS, attentive
to the philosophical conflict as it unfolds.)
HEIDEGGER:
Aha! An anarchist, as I thought, in your midst. For what would
be an assembly in the shadow of the Alps without the presence
of a gad-fly? My Princess candidate shall answer you with a
smile and a perfect wave of her hand. Good people of Geneva,
which do you prefer? This?
(HEIDEGGER gestures towards the PRINCESS DOUHET,
who is smiling and waving to THE CHORUS. They cheer.)
HEIDEGGER:
Or that?
(THE CHORUS stops cheering and gazes reluctantly upon the
truculent form of MARKUS.)
MARKUS:
Not so fast! Dupes of Geneva! After all, I wear the jaunty
republican cap of the revolution! All the heiress delivers is a
mouth full of white teeth and a gown revealing far too much
cleavage. Is this what our pike-carrying forefathers lusted
after? Never! They knew a good dose of the Good Book and a
translation in the vernacular would save them from a boiling
hell curiously similar to the triptych I painted and sold to the
Chapel last year.
HEIDEGGER:
Ah! The famous triptych "Out Of Recklessness I Shall Abjure
Sin And Not Become A Daemon-Boy". I saw that. It was pretty
good, actually. But I give you the shops of Milan, ladies and
gentlemen. I give you the mysteries of the Orient, collected by
our friends in Genoa and Venice, carted to the cutting-houses
of the fashionable and the wise.
(MARKUS spits and grinds his boot into the ground.
MARKUS reaches beneath the skirt of one of THE CHORUS
and retrieves a carbine. He holds it loosely in the direction of
the balcony.)
HIEDEGGER:
Members of the assembly! Look out! Your hero Markus has
taken the form of a sniper!
MARKUS:
Not at all, Teutonic Serpent! I have taken the form of a super-
man. Your old acquaintance Mr. Nietzsche ought to have
warned you. And my fellow republicans, you ought to know
something further about this ersatz princess that is all waving
and smiling, just as the boatman on the Lethe provided for our
comic hero centuries before us.
(MARKUS waves the carbine up to the balcony.)
MARKUS:
Come on, Princess Douhet. Reveal to us your true nature. That
doorway from which you arrived upon the stage is the doorway
of levity and sin, not of truth and wise government. We are the
purveyors of that latter fine feast. The emergence! Yes! Mr.
Heidegger, I too have read the fragment, as the translation of
the arcane to the vernacular comes with it a wisdom that no end
of smiling and waving could overwhelm.
PRINCESS:
Oh Martin, ought I disobey? He has a gun!
HEIDEGGER:
Why not? The show itself shall corrupt the assembly and make
them no good for this peasant demagogue. The revulsion shall
hypnotise them against him. Damn my own soul for learning
ancient pre-Socratic Greek. And damn it twice for translating
the awful thing!
(PRINCESS DOUHET begins to disrobe. THE CHORUS is
transfixed.)
MARKUS:
Ah, burghers of the town. Now you can see. Fine supple
breasts, and long sensuous curves, and then? Oh yes, fine
citizens. Gaze as the Medusa upon the silvered shield of
Perseus! For as she removes the sequins of perfidy and the tiara
of mayhem, you can see as I do. The Princess Douhet is a man!
THE CHORUS:
The Princess Douhet is a man?
MARKUS:
God forbid!
HEIDEGGER:
Not so fast, you anarchist! Have two odd among your group
disrobe as one. Pick each a man and a woman and you may
learn a subtle truth about the fragment.
(MARKUS selects two drab figures and motions them to
disrobe. They do so in silence.)
HEIDEGGER:
Oh, pale republican. What sends your lower jaw spinning to the
floor and bouncing twice before shattering? It is this simple
truth, isn't it? For the man you chose is really a woman, and the
woman you picked is quite prodigious in her masculinity!
(MARKUS drops the carbine in a noisy clatter.)
HEIDEGGER:
So again I ask you, fine merchants of Geneva. Shall it be the
repression of the Faith you choose? Or, a trading embassy to
the Lombard markets with a thousand thalers for each? In the
company of our Princess Douhet?
THE CHORUS:
Long live Princess Douhet!
HEIDEGGER:
Put your clothes back on, Princess Douhet! We're going
shopping!
(All Exit.)
[email protected]
autobiography on file!
Gert
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