[I don’t normally include the explanation at the top — but this one is a doozy. This idea was submitted on Facebook by Allen.]
“Othello is running for reelection. Henry V is the GOP nominee. They wait in the green room to begin a televised debate when, suddenly, a young woman collapses of stroke. who is she? Two paramedics arrive as the scene opens.”
Enter two paramedics.
Summoned we have been, to the house
of light and sound – the television studio
where all visions fantastical
leap o’er the air to the shining
squares in each and every good man’s
noble den, couch-front and shining.
What is the sport? What
dire sickness or mortal wound
summons our white chariot
red lights flashing like
the red eye of Jove himself?
I know not, friend —-
but I see presently a stout porter comes
henceforth to lead us to our
duty and sacred charge.
A television producer enters, bearing a clipboard.
Ah, medics — at last you arrive
fast as Hermes’ to your duty
and sacred charge — well met!
What sickness or ill calls us to this place?
Speak quick — swift action is the blessing of all
who ail and require our skill and succor.
The three discover HENRY V, one time King of England and France — and OTHELLO, a moor. They crouch over the still form of a young woman. The paramedics rush to the woman’s side and begin tending to her.
Honored nobles, please come away and
allow these men to fulfill their charge.
The people of America wait for you to speak
and fill their hearts with the message of
your glory, vouchsafe the country’s goals
and seize the crown imperial through
this televised debate — the time of choosing
is nigh — we must begin this play of words
‘ere more sands fall through the hourglass.
Jupiter and blessed Pallas Athene!
I do pray this young girl can be
returned to full health and vital
how strange that she should fall
ill here, and swoon into the bosom
of foul sleep ‘ere she could
speak her dire message.
What means this, friend Hal?
I know we disagree most bitterly
on the course and tack of this country’s ship.
But surely you do not suggest that I—
Look, buster. I think we all know about you and the ladies.
Your words are dross, instead of true-gold.
How can you speak with the split tongue
of a garter snake — here on the cusp of our debate?
To take this poor woman’s fate and twist it to
suit your minstrel-song and mechanical-pander.
Or should I say…..girls?
Listen here, you mealy mouthed motherfucker —
Hark! She breathes, the flame of life
still burns within her mortal frame.
Our duty and sacred charge has been
well served here this day, this time
The woman rises and approaches the two candidates.
Look upon my face and know despair
twenty fathoms deep your heart thrown
in iron shackles beneath the blue-green
waves of Poseidon’s kingdom.
I served your purpose, and served your lust–
a chattel born to the lash is better served
by a quarry’s cruel labor then I was served
by you two princes of the earth.
To take a poor widow, kept in a house
with madmen and waggle-doctors —
to make me scribe your words,
plan your campaign, even pick
out the color of your tie.
Neither of you have half the manhood that I can claim.
you are bitter, empty things — gourds full of sound and air.
And now, here on the edge of your greatest glory
I come— I come to strike you down
Who are you, strange woman?
Look — could you not — shit.
OTHELLO falls on his sword. No one notices.
I am the kingmaker — I am the queen of iron
behind the prince of straw, spinning quiet webs
and laying plans for these fools’ victory.
And I will have my cup overflow with
revenge and the blood of those who have
Hey — Lady M. I think you spilled some barbecue sauce on your dress. It’s right there….on your sleeve.
LADY MACBETH begins to tear at her clothing.
Out! Out! Damn–
A ravenous bear enters.
EXEUNT all pursued by bear.