Scene
Two: The Bar.
JACKSON:
This place is the one that you were telling me about?
DRAKE:
It’s the only one on Grand Avenue that I still go to.
JACKSON:
Looks like some one ripped Grand a new asshole.
DRAKE:
Is his name J.J?
JACKSON:
Touché.
JACKSON:
I have to be honest with you man.
DRAKE:
I know you do.
JACKSON:
I really cannot see what some one like you sees in a place like this.
DRAKE:
You just complimented me.
JACKSON:
In passing. And with great detachment and slight scorn.
DRAKE:
This is the only one I’ve never gotten kicked out of.
JACKSON:
Oh?
DRAKE:
One guy tried. But I had bought a drink.
JACKSON:
Oh really.
DRAKE:
And he was off duty that day.
JACKSON:
Bouncer?
DRAKE:
I don’t even know. He said that I was weird.
JACKSON:
Don’t they all.
DRAKE:
He turned out to be a Leo.
JACKSON:
You asked him this while he was telling you to fuck off?
DRAKE:
No.
JACKSON:
Oh. You nearly won my loyalty.
DRAKE:
I found out later from a Pisces woman who works here. She said that he was
harmless.
JACKSON:
She’s a Pisces. They all say that.
DRAKE:
She had P.T.S.D.
JACKSON:
Delusional clownfish.
DRAKE:
Cut that out.
JACKSON:
Did you leave?
DRAKE:
No. Like I said. He failed.
JACKSON:
I thought you might leave just out of force of habit.
DRAKE:
The man sitting next to me bought me an other drink.
JACKSON:
Was he a Leo too?
DRAKE:
How did you guess?
JACKSON:
Just a hunch.
DRAKE:
Yes. His woman was a Gemini.
JACKSON:
His “woman”.
DRAKE:
Yes. They looked quite happy. He had long hair and…
JACKSON:
What’s good here any way?
DRAKE:
Nothing.
JACKSON:
So why’d we come here?
DRAKE:
I don’t know. Free hot dogs on a Sunday. With a drink.
JACKSON:
You bastard.
DRAKE:
You get some too.
JACKSON:
What if I just leave and do not order any thing?
DRAKE:
I’m literally malnourished.
JACKSON:
Like I said.
DRAKE:
I’m getting chili on mine.
JACKSON:
I’m getting chilly just thinking about it.
DRAKE:
What did you get?
JACKSON:
Whiskey Sour.
DRAKE:
Not a liquid marijuana?
JACKSON:
Not since the night I saw you drink three of those.
DRAKE:
Oh.
JACKSON:
And then smoke real marijuana.
DRAKE:
Yeah.
JACKSON:
And then vomit.
DRAKE:
That Virgo just wouldn’t shut up.
JACKSON:
At least it shut YOU up.
DRAKE:
Thanks for breaking me out of jail by the way.
JACKSON:
“BREAKING you out?”
DRAKE:
Sorry. I meant busting me.
[Weird
pause.]
DRAKE:
Nevermind. It was a dream I had.
JACKSON:
Speaking of which: how are you going to plead on Tuesday?
DRAKE:
Fuck. Is that the court date?
JACKSON:
Congratulations.
DRAKE:
I must be going Harry.
JACKSON:
How?
DRAKE:
You said my dream was somehow related.
JACKSON:
Only in the sense that both are hopeless cases.
DRAKE:
I would say… as soon as I recall the symbols in my dream.
JACKSON:
Again: your case.
DRAKE:
I’ll HAVE a case then.
[Weird
pause.]
JACKSON:
An other Whiskey Sour for my friend here.
DRAKE:
Thanks.
JACKSON:
It’s supposed to pacify you so you don’t start a scene at the theatre.
DRAKE:
Isn’t that what theatres are for?
JACKSON:
This situation is what alcohol is for.
DRAKE:
Whatever works. [bites hot dog.]
DRAKE:
You know: Harry said some thing interesting back at the Jail.
JACKSON:
I’ll bet he did.
DRAKE:
He told me that Peter was a bad person.
JACKSON:
Is this an other one of those heroin heads?
DRAKE:
Yourself included?
JACKSON:
Point noted.
DRAKE:
That notwithstanding, I disagree with him. But I must say:
JACKSON:
I’m listening.
DRAKE:
He had a point. I mean. In all honesty. Peter does tend to jump the gun and fly
off the handle.
JACKSON:
So long as he does not rob the cradle and flee the coop.
DRAKE:
He really does go too far out of his way for Janet. It gives him a reputation
that more self-interested people, as tend to be his associates, would not
understand.
JACKSON:
So he’s a martyr. And no one gets him.
DRAKE:
Yeah. Like Jesus. He is just a Scapegoat.
JACKSON:
Like Satan.
DRAKE:
Sure. Like Saturn.
JACKSON:
You mean Titan.
DRAKE:
One of the Titans.
JACKSON:
Some thing like that. I cannot remember which.
DRAKE:
There was a painting of him eating his kids.
JACKSON:
Titian?
DRAKE:
No. That was a painter.
JACKSON:
I know. Did Titian paint it?
DRAKE:
I don’t believe so.
JACKSON:
Hm.
DRAKE:
KRONOS!
JACKSON:
Kronos painted him?
DRAKE:
No. Kronos was the God.
JACKSON:
You mean the Titan.
DRAKE:
Yeah.
JACKSON:
So not a God.
DRAKE:
Not an OLYMPIAN. But still a God.
JACKSON:
I get you. Saturn.
DRAKE:
Satan. The District Attorney of Heaven.
JACKSON:
The Holy Goat.
DRAKE:
Holy because he’s whole.
JACKSON:
And not because he is an asshole.
DRAKE:
[guffaws.]
JACKSON:
I think they’re staring at us.
DRAKE:
LET them! I’m enjoying this.
JACKSON:
I’m here to please.
DRAKE:
You do it better than you’d think.
JACKSON:
Oh. Ask any girl.
DRAKE:
You know: I’ve realized some thing.
JACKSON:
You really need to stop doing that.
DRAKE:
I tend to avoid places. If I feel drained there.
JACKSON:
Yup.
DRAKE:
But this one: people all ways tell me they can’t see me in a place like this.
It seems like every thing that would be wrong with Escondido, all in one place.
JACKSON:
The Hidden City.
DRAKE:
That’s just it. It’s not hidden. It ADMITS to just how skuzzy it is. It admits
that. To both others and its self. And so it never loses its mystique. Or at least its lurid allure.
JACKSON:
I guess the Whiskey could be worse.
DRAKE:
But I can’t explain it to people.
JACKSON:
The ones who can’t see you here?
DRAKE:
Yeah. Because they think it sums up every thing that’s wrong with this city.
JACKSON:
You ever wondered, just in passing—
DRAKE:
Hypothetically?
JACKSON:
As an intellectual exercise. Have you ever wondered if may be –
DRAKE:
Theoretically.
JACKSON:
Potentially. If YOU were not every thing wrong with this city?
DRAKE:
You’re right.
JACKSON:
[Pause.] What did you just say to me, Drake?
DRAKE:
You’re right. For once. Which is what I was about to say. You’d think I’d want
a place with more…
JACKSON:
Pretension?
DRAKE:
Class.
JACKSON:
Airs.
DRAKE:
Persona. Yes. But I’ve realized you can’t expect perfection from a bar.
JACKSON:
Sounds like a novel revelation.
DRAKE:
No, not even PRACTICAL perfection. Even feeling comfortable and safe…
JACKSON:
NEITHER of which I feel here, B.T. Dubs.
DRAKE:
Because I have to become good enough FOR such a place.
JACKSON:
How do you figure?
DRAKE:
Just instinctively. When you pursue perfection you expect the place to be good
enough for YOU.
JACKSON:
But we both agree that this place is a hole, right?
DRAKE:
It’s a warm hole. With hot dogs in it.
JACKSON:
I just don’t GET you, Drake. You don’t just SETTLE for this place. Which is
even beneath YOU. You AGGRANDISE it.
DRAKE:
I don’t. But I understand what I can’t change. So I internalize the project.
Knowing that when I am calm, collected, and complete in all of my requirements
then I shall be able to sit here and smile irrespective of the circumstances
outside of my control and price range.
JACKSON:
At my expense.
DRAKE:
Or not. It won’t matter.
JACKSON:
Unless they kick you out.
DRAKE:
By that point: they will have no reason to.
JACKSON:
But how can you be so sure?
DRAKE:
Instinctively.
JACKSON:
So?
DRAKE:
So instinct is the basis for all rationality. Faith precedes logic.
JACKSON:
Welcome to the Middle Ages.
DRAKE:
Don’t knock them until you’ve tried them.
JACKSON:
You know technically your argument is a tautology, right?
DRAKE:
St Thomas Aquinas’ proof for faith?
JACKSON:
No. Your proof for this place.
DRAKE:
Not for THIS place. For THE place. The place within my Heart, untouched by
outward whim.
JACKSON:
But that’s the thing. You PRESUME that such a place exists.
DRAKE:
I don’t. I’ve been there. But I see your point: Tautology. Bane of all
Christian Rationality, which presupposes an Uncaused cause and a hierarchy of
causes emanating from its depths.
JACKSON:
Don’t pin this one on me.
DRAKE:
But hear my reasoning out: All OTHER places I go to only in desperation. I
would not be seen there in a less desperate state. But this place I can
frequent in either state. And once I have surmounted my desperation and found
peace, this place is simply the outer canvas for my inner paint.
JACKSON:
But you’re just using your foregone conclusion!
DRAKE:
ACTUALLY I am intimating to you a logic that led me to that conclusion.
JACKSON:
Circularly.
DRAKE:
Seemingly. But only because by the time that I presented my thesis I had all
ready thought all of this through.
JACKSON:
Without peer review.
DRAKE:
I am a Shaman. I need no tribe.
JACKSON:
You still have one.
DRAKE:
Be that as it may: I am not a Rationalist. I am an Empiricist.
JACKSON:
Camus says there’s no difference.
DRAKE:
I am not a Camusian. My point remains: I’ve BEEN to this place.
JACKSON:
I get that.
DRAKE:
I mean the inner one.
JACKSON:
Seriously?
DRAKE:
Yes. I have sat in bad company and smiled. I know that from experience. And I
convey it with confidence. That Rapey Republican guy. Remember him?
JACKSON:
From your stories? Yeah.
DRAKE:
PRECISELY. From my STORIES. He was but a figment of my imagination.
JACKSON:
I see.
DRAKE:
Admittedly: BASED upon a real person.
JACKSON:
Who was all so a pedophile?
DRAKE:
But that’s the thing! See: I’ll never know what those words MEAN because I’ve
never BEEN a pedophile.
JACKSON:
Uh HUH.
DRAKE:
Mhm.
JACKSON:
Not consciously at least.
DRAKE:
Any way: that guy. The Cancer. He would get on my case for using circular
reasonings. He must have learned them from C.S. Lewis.
JACKSON:
Fuck Lewis.
DRAKE:
Agreed. With a big fat Satanic cock.
JACKSON:
That guy needs a goat up his hole.
DRAKE:
We’ll pop a Capricorn in his ass.
[Jackson,
who was just taking a swig, sprays Whiskey nasally in sudden stitches.]
DRAKE:
Any way: I realized some thing. The Cancer guy wanted every thing to make
rational, causal sense, because it would prove the existence of God.
JACKSON:
Which in turn was necessary for the faith he required to believe in an Uncaused
Cause in the first place.
DRAKE:
Right. So he’s the one making the circular argument.
JACKSON:
But so were you.
DRAKE:
Not even. I was simply CONFIDENT in what I KNEW.
JACKSON:
And he was simply confident in things that some one else had invented.
DRAKE:
Right. Lewis.
JACKSON:
Sure.
DRAKE:
And it all ways haunted me. Ever since he said that to me. For months I would
try to reason out of my own circles.
JACKSON:
You’re pathetic.
DRAKE:
That sounds vaguely familiar…
JACKSON:
Continue though.
DRAKE:
Any way: I realized that it was not as a direct result of what he said that I
got stuck in that loop.
JACKSON:
Which one? The circular reasonings? Or the overanalysis ABOUT the circular
reasonings?
DRAKE:
Both.
JACKSON:
The circular reasonings about the circular reasonings.
DRAKE:
Is that the latter? Or the former?
JACKSON:
Both.
DRAKE:
But don’t you see? There never WERE any. They were all just that old
douche-bag’s projection.
JACKSON:
So what of it?
DRAKE:
My point is that I thought this tendency was his doing. But that would make him
the cause and my symptoms the effect.
JACKSON:
Neither of which you believe in.
DRAKE:
PRECISELY. Except that I have the same inclination as he does. Know why?
JACKSON:
No.
DRAKE:
This is not boring you I hope.
JACKSON:
It is.
DRAKE:
Because my South Node was in Cancer!!
JACKSON:
[Sardonically, with ironically protuberant eyes:] It All Makes Sense Now.
DRAKE:
So he never really haunted me. Only my projection of him. Which was all ways my
own choice. To see HIM as a cause.
JACKSON:
To have some one to blame.
DRAKE:
And yet he had so much in common with me at those moments that it felt like HE
was the one doing it.
JACKSON:
But it was really your own, inner rapist.
DRAKE:
I’ll drink to that.
[they
toast.]
JACKSON:
You know: this place is still a cock-hole.
DRAKE:
It’s a warm one.
JACKSON:
Oh well. Decent whiskey.
DRAKE:
Fine hot dogs.
JACKSON:
The lighting looks better buzzed.
DRAKE:
I feel HOME.
JACKSON:
So what? You’ve reached the place?
DRAKE:
I have.
BARTENDER:
Hey. You can’t be here!
DRAKE:
[assertively, for once.] Why not.
BARTENDER:
Because my girlfriend’s coming. And you creep her out.
DRAKE:
So?
BARTENDER:
You all ways show up at her work and eye her.
DRAKE:
Are you sure she’s not projecting?
BARTENDER:
Yes. I am POSITIVE.
DRAKE:
Well. That’s contrary to the findings of both Realist Phenomenology and Jungian
Psychology then.
BARTENDER:
Do I have to come around and tell you from the other side of this counter?
DRAKE:
I’ll lecture from here. Thank you. How much is an other Whiskey?
JACKSON:
Let’s go Drake.
DRAKE:
Hey man. So you know: I never made a pass or nothing.
BARTENDER:
Your face book said you would stop going to bars if the servers rejected your
advances.
DRAKE:
It’s an expensive commodity! I’m just saving money bro.
BARTENDER:
Can it.
DRAKE:
Indeed. Canned beer from now on.
JACKSON:
You know he does have a point.
DRAKE:
No he does not. Come on. I’m WORTH it.
BARTENDER:
Okay I’m coming over.
JACKSON:
Don’t act self-entitled.
DRAKE:
Well dude. It’s MY choice as a consumer. Come on. They’re clearly fabricating
an ethic based entirely upon their own convenience as a business.
PATRON:
[nearby patron, sporting military hat:] People have to eat, man!
DRAKE:
That’s a Marxist concern in fact.
JACKSON:
Well. That guy’s not fabricating those biceps.
DRAKE:
Let them come.
JACKSON:
Pick your battles man.
DRAKE:
I’m not passive-aggressive.
JACKSON:
You are drunk in public.
DRAKE:
The proletariat shall overcome the bourgeois!
JACKSON:
Right now it’s an arms race. And we lost.
DRAKE:
We have strength in numbers.
PATRON:
No you really don’t.
JACKSON:
I apologise on his behalf.
BARTENDER:
OUT.
JACKSON:
He just got out of jail. He’s still getting used to breathing air.
DRAKE:
I feel great.
[Bartender
aims punch. Drake dodges.]
JACKSON:
FUCK it DRAKE. Let’s BOUNCE.
Dm.A.A.
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