Monday, July 31, 2017

THE NEXT LEVEL DOWN: ACT I, SCENE FIVE.

Scene Five: Theatre, again.

JACKSON: What ever happened to your heroin-addicted friend? Zane or some thing?

DRAKE: You’re not trying to make me happy, are you?

JACKSON: Wouldn’t dream of it.

DRAKE: If you were, I’d hate to disappoint you.

JACKSON: Why?

DRAKE: Zane is dead.

JACKSON: Oh my God.

DRAKE: But he goes by an other name now.

JACKSON: Huh?

DRAKE: Some thing tells me this will take a while to explain.

JACKSON: I have time. And confusion.

DRAKE: Zane is actually Jake. When I first met him he gave his name as Zane.

JACKSON: What was he borne as?

DRAKE: Jake. Apparently. I had to learn it from one of his… clients.

JACKSON: “Clients”?

DRAKE: I have an other name for him now: Heisenberg.

JACKSON: The German physicist whose concept of the Principle of Uncertainty revolutionized twentieth-century thought in various fields including but by no means confined to the sciences?

DRAKE: No. No. The pseudonym for Walter White in Breaking Bad. And how did you know all of that?

JACKSON: I frequent forums online. Neo-nazis say the zaniest things.

DRAKE: I guess so.

JACKSON: I mean that’s the name of the forum.

DRAKE: My point is that Zane deals meth now.

JACKSON: NO way.

DRAKE: True story. I found out from his customers. They call it “dealing white”.

JACKSON: You mean white lady?

DRAKE: No, that’s cocaine.

JACKSON: I know that! Of course!

DRAKE: WHITE is meth. And Black is heroin.

JACKSON: You’re sure he’s dealing meth?

DRAKE: Yeah.

JACKSON: Not heroin.

DRAKE: Of course. I called him Heisenberg to his face.

JACKSON: Well. With the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle…

DRAKE: Uh-huh.

JACKSON: … the process of asking him would change the nature of his response…

DRAKE: Any way: the irony is killing me.

JACKSON: … and if you open the box…

DRAKE: This guy made me SO happy when he told me he was going to rehab.

JACKSON: … then he is both Zane and Jake at the same time!

DRAKE: Of COURSE he is. He’s a Gemini.

JACKSON: The twins. [looks off musingly.]

DRAKE: When I was talking to his clients I asked which of the two twins had died in war.

JACKSON: Woah. Really?

DRAKE: It was a reference. To the myth of Castor and Pollux. And every other pair of fictional twins since. Including the Siamese twins.

JACKSON: So what did the client say?

DRAKE: He stunned me. He didn’t get the reference. But he still answered.

JACKSON: Myth comes to life! Joseph Campbell would smile.

DRAKE: And… as usual you surprise me with your fruitless grasp on trivia… and he said Jake was dead and Zane had survived.

JACKSON: Well that’s good. So the one you met.

DRAKE: Except that no. Jake was the innocent one. Walter White.

JACKSON: Oh.

DRAKE: ZANE was the shady Drug Dealer.

JACKSON: The one you met??

DRAKE: It’s complicated. Apparently he gave his pseudonym to strangers and to clients.

JACKSON: What about friends?

DRAKE: What about them?

JACKSON: You must not have been so close to him. You know, if he never told you his true name.

DRAKE: Well. He did. And I WAS his friend. The way that his client explained it, if you were his friend, you’d get to CHOOSE which name to use.

JACKSON: So which twin to address?

DRAKE: Precisely.

JACKSON: So the client must have all so been good friends with him.

DRAKE: Naw. He was just a client.

JACKSON: But he knew the rules?

DRAKE: Yeah. Don’t ask.

JACKSON: Noted. But there’s still some thing that’s bugging me…

DRAKE: You’re telling me.

JACKSON: You told me that ZANE was dead.

DRAKE: Zane IS. The Zane *I* knew.

JACKSON: So before he started dealing white?

DRAKE: Right.

JACKSON: Which is meth. Not cocaine.

DRAKE: [Pause.] Ostensibly.

JACKSON: [contentedly and with gratitude:] Okay. I feel caught up.

DRAKE: Good for you. I feel more confused than ever.

JACKSON: Oh, no. There’s more. Isn’t there?

DRAKE: The logistics only scratch the surface. The rub of the irony is just his whole decision.

JACKSON: Jake’s decision to become-Zane.

DRAKE: Or Zane’s decision to change.

JACKSON: Or Jake’s decision to change Zane.

DRAKE: Zane using Jake to his new purposes.

JACKSON: Or Jake corrupting Zane.

DRAKE: Only to seal his own demise.

JACKSON: Assisted suicide.

DRAKE: More like unwitting homicide.

JACKSON: An attempted murder that backfired.

DRAKE: Zane was getting CLEAN. I coached him through it.

JACKSON: Just so you know: this is not your fault.

DRAKE: I was HELPING him.

JACKSON: You have no control over his choices.

DRAKE: No, you’re missing the point.

JACKSON: You are utterly helpless in regards to changing his life.

DRAKE: I sat with him for hours in conversation…

JACKSON: He probably regards you as a supporting role in his life drama. At best.

DRAKE: … both at Stirfox tables and in shady restaurant back-alleys reeking of cleaning products.

JACKSON: And THAT’S what meth is made of! See? I can keep the plot of a conversation.

DRAKE: This guy’s South Node was in Taurus. North Node in Scorpio.

JACKSON: Of course.

DRAKE: “Of course” the latter based upon the former? Or of course both?

JACKSON: I’ll just say both.

DRAKE: Nice call. You saved what little ethos you would have otherwise lost by redundancy.

JACKSON: I’ll just say: okay!

DRAKE: Any way the Taurus traits manifested as excessive codependent attachment to his drug-addicted peers.

JACKSON: Who were ALL so Tauruses!

DRAKE: As far as South Node goes. Any way: The Scorpio side was the deviant. The survivor.

JACKSON: The rebel.

DRAKE: The phoenix.

JACKSON: The snake who sheds his skin to be born again!

DRAKE: And that eats its own tail.

JACKSON: WOAH!

DRAKE: I can’t tell you how happy I was to see his transmutation day by day. Each time Pluto was in a powerful position he would have a revelation about his condition.

JACKSON: That’s poetic.

DRAKE: Finally he started to get clean. I saw his growth by bounds.

JACKSON: Sweet.

DRAKE: The long grunge hair disappeared. The beard was trimmed. His eyes took on the captivating glow of the Eagle.

JACKSON: Magnanimous!

DRAKE: He looked like the spitting image of the Mormon kid he’d been before he ran away from his upbringing and got caught up.

JACKSON: Deep.

DRAKE: And then he shaved his head.

JACKSON: Oh.

DRAKE: Apparently.

JACKSON: “Apparently”?

DRAKE: Unless some one shaved it FOR him!

JACKSON: Probably, if one thinks about it.

DRAKE: And now he is a dealer! Just months after our mutual friend was arrested!

JACKSON: And you had a heart-to-heart with him about that?

DRAKE: Before I knew. Last I saw him he was doing business with these two clients.

JACKSON: What were there* signs?

DRAKE: Virgo and Sagittarius.

JACKSON: Hey! That made the four of you the Mutable Brothers!

DRAKE: As usual. The trivia.

JACKSON: Compliment taken.

DRAKE: I thought I knew him.

JACKSON: I guess Gustavo Fring was right.

BOTH: You can never trust a drug addict.

JACKSON: You know: I’ll be honest with you.

DRAKE: No. Don’t. Stop.

JACKSON: All this talk about drugs makes me want a DRANK.

DRAKE: Well heaven forbid that any alien will should forbid you your right to party.

JACKSON: You think this wine is real?

DRAKE: You mean real wine or a prop?

JACKSON: I think it might be grape juice.

DRAKE: Is that REALLY the worst-case scenario you can fathom?

JACKSON: Nope. Cabernet. Fruity bouquet too. They got some legit French stuff for this.

DRAKE: Several placebos later…

JACKSON: You know some times I wonder why you settle for this life. Crazy drug addicts for your only friends. Women avoiding you with disdain.

DRAKE: That’s the thing. The women avoid me because I creep them out. I creep them out because that’s the only world I’ve ever known: land of the creeps.

JACKSON: It’s all most like every one you want to be with possesses a skill you lack that by their possessing it precludes the possibility of you getting close to them.

DRAKE: And that skill is: Discretion.

JACKSON: Sure! If that’s your word for knowing how to not hang out with drug addicts.

DRAKE: Are you going to offer me some of that Jesus juice?

JACKSON: Actually I was going to finish this whole bottle if that’s cool with you.

DRAKE: Whatever’s cool with me.

JACKSON: So now I’m totally wasted, I got to ask you some thing, my man…
DRAKE: I’m not gay.
JACKSON: No, not that.
DRAKE: And I’m not your man.
JACKSON: But like… woah. SO. Any way: How many times have you had some one take your virginity?
DRAKE: Are all of your questions going to be in binary now?
JACKSON: HUH?
DRAKE: Yes or no questions.
JACKSON: Then pardon me. Allow me to rephrase:
DRAKE: No! Let me guess! You are going to ask: how much can I TAKE?
JACKSON: What.
DRAKE: Or: how many times has some one TAKEN some thing FROM me.
JACKSON: Yeah!
DRAKE: Well, that depends:
JACKSON: Depends on what?
DRAKE: Depends on… are you listening?
JACKSON: Mostly!
DRAKE: Depends on whether we are going by belongings or people.
JACKSON: So some one took your people?
DRAKE: In a manner.
JACKSON: Or people took your some thing?
DRAKE: Yes.
JACKSON: To both?
DRAKE: And neither.
JACKSON: So hey. What ever happened to that old Casio you had?
DRAKE: Case and point.
JACKSON: Did you ever get it back from? What’s his name?
DRAKE: I’d rather not.
JACKSON: The name! I keep spacing on it.
DRAKE: It’s cool. Really.
JACKSON: I KNOW he had a cool name but…
DRAKE: Ahem.
JACKSON: Bless you!
DRAKE: I did not sneeze.
JACKSON: No I’m blessing you because I’m drunk.
DRAKE: Oh wow.
JACKSON: Get it?
DRAKE: Yes I get it.
JACKSON: Jesus Juice!
DRAKE: I KNOW, God damn it!
JACKSON: NICE one!
DRAKE: [Brief, pensive pause.] I just had a thought.
JACKSON: Yeah I get those from time to time.
DRAKE: How about: we play theatre.
JACKSON: I call Judas.
DRAKE: YES! You sit right here. At my right hand.
JACKSON: Like the Australian song. By what’s his name?
DRAKE: I’d rather you did not mention Australians right now.
JACKSON: Orite mite.
DRAKE: You’ll be the guy who took my keys. And I’ll be me.
JACKSON: So Jesus.
DRAKE: You start.
JACKSON: Okay um. [clears throat.] wait. I don’t have to whisper in your ear do i?
DRAKE: For the love of God never mention that thought to me again.
JACKSON: Just checking. Okay here goes:
“Well. What did you EXPECT me to do? It was either you or me.”
DRAKE: I expected you to honor our FRIENDSHIP! I expected you to have been LOYAL to me! I expected you to HONOR that I INTRODUCED the two of you, and NONE of this was meant to happen!
JACKSON: You don’t own people and their feelings.
DRAKE: Yes I do!! [Pause.] YES, I DO. I’ve EARNED that. I’ve done every thing RIGHT. I observed EVERY nicety, I honored EACH and EVERY moral code, I behaved totally with CHIVALRY, PATIENCE, and TRUST. I was the VICTIM. I was the UNDER-PRIVILEGED. I was the VIRGIN.
I was GOOD, CARING, and LOYAL. And I TRUSTED you to be the same way, honoring your every DAMNED request. I would have never DREAMT that it was POSSIBLE that ANY one, even a rapist or a murderer, could do what YOU did. And you had NO RIGHT to her. *I* had that right. It was not simply that you WRONGED her, as though *I* would have done the same! You WRONGED me. Had it not been for ME, you would have never left the house! Had it not been for ME, you and Ariana would have never even MET! You HAVE no voice here. *I* did this for BOTH of YOU, for ALL of us, and for Ariana, knowing that she LOVED me and that *I* loved HER. And YOU fucked up EVERY thing. How could you POSSIBLY have thought that it had been RIGHT to do? How could I have possibly DESERVED that pain? How many years have I gone single, watching you PARADE about with women, never ONCE batting a jealous eye-lash, only waiting PATIENTLY for my own due, totally unassuming but not hopeless. I did not ASSUME that she had loved me; I KNEW it, and even if I could be proven wrong I thought I had a FRIEND to shelter me, Knowing that friendship mattered and that you could never let a woman get away with breaking my heart. Once before she stood me up, but I forgave her, and I did not hesitate to show her that I CARED by bringing her out for the music. It was all ways for the music; I was NURTURING you people.
And you ask me why YOU owe ME music? Bitch, YOU needed ME. And you were much too DAMNED proud and too DAMNED vengeful to admit it. I came to you because I KNEW you needed me. Ariana needed me as well.
But you BETRAYED me. Failing to do what was no mere deviance; what I WANT should be law, if you regard me highly enough to call me ‘friend’.
Have I not honored what YOU wanted? How then can you accuse me of self-interest if it was here your only warrant?
That we both ‘wanted’ Ariana was no issue; she was MINE.
She came to ME, for ME, and had no right to wander off at my expense. Neither did you.
I can’t HONOR what you WANT if what you WANT is what I want for ME. Then I can only HONOR him who has observed all of the necessary moral standards. If I’ve done so, what I ‘want’ is law. NOT what YOU want. And you would have Known that if even for one moment you’d held yourself accountable. I’m not RESPONSIBLE for your BETRAYAL. I’m RESPONSIBLE for trusting you enough to risk my own well-being, all for US, all for this BAND, and insofar as this has been of benefit to you I’m blameless. But that NEVER justifies your taking more than I can spare, and more than YOU ever NEEDED or could HANDLE. I DO claim ownership of people and their feelings. I expect it all so in return. No one should EVER go through what I went through. NEVER. I would have shared people and their feelings WITH you. But you chose to steal them for yourself, and cynical as that would be as a presumption I have seen it for a fact. And it was the worst night of my life. My own best friend produced it.
And it’s not as though I ever held you to a lofty standard.
It is not as though being my friend made it easy to fall.
You just cannot resist the urge to fuck, and you FUCKED me. Never forget that.
If I tried to even START to justify your arrogance and self-entitlement, I’d find an outpouring of mine, for I was never self-entitled hitherto, nor even am I now. I simply RESPECT my self now, and no common person will Know what I DID for all of you. I will never forgive you. Never. And I’ll ALL ways suffer, all because of what you stole from me, when feelings and people were supposed to have belonged to ALL of us. Regardless of YOU, they will still belong to me.
JACKSON: [dozing off.] You are such a joke.
DRAKE: I am not perpetuating my parents’ abuse by severing ties with you, holding you to ‘codependent’ standards. I am ENDING it.
By valuing my self. For once. And that will never change. I’m never coming back. Yes: we were codependent. But You were the narcissist. I saw through BOTH our eyes; I had that sort of empathy. And what I saw through YOUR eyes terrified me. For I Know that I did not deserve that sort of parasitic hatred. And only a troubled childhood could have kept me coming back to it. One you will never Know. And nor will she. One I must live with. And transcend.
[Silence. J.J. is sleeping snoringly. Enter police.]
OFFICER: [Stridently:] Odd place for a drink, don’t you think?

DRAKE: I’m sober.
OFFICER: What about your friend here?
JACKSON: Pharisees! Hypocrites!
OFFICER: Okay. I think we’re taking this lot in.
JACKSON: Observe the lilies in the field. They neither toil nor do they weave, but Solomon in all his glory was not clothed as one of these.
OFFICER: You have the right to remain silent.
JACKSON: And I say this unto thee: that you do not resist evil!

Dm.A.A.

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