Puppet Times!

I had the great honor this past weekend of seeing my words on stage — in the form of an avant garde puppet show.

It was wonderful and strange…and more than a little surreal. To not only see your words being interpreted by a performer and director, but having them come out of a puppet’s grill.

I played it cool, though — cool as a cucumber. OKAY, I’m lying.  I immediately ran up after the show and demanded pictures of the puppets and performers that performed my pieces.

Methusio! – Puppet Monologue #1

Methusio and Cocktail Glass
Methusio and Cocktail Glass

Oh man, every time Methusio would take a sip from the glass, it would start giggling.  It was hysterical.

Methusio's Performer: Geneviève Esquivié
Methusio’s Performer: Geneviève Esquivié

Genevieve is a native French speaker, which made the monologue just that much more awesome.

The Devil – Puppet Monologue #2

Lucifer - The Morningstar [in puppet form]
Lucifer – The Morningstar
[in puppet form]
Look at the green eyes! Few things have made me as happy as seeing those eyes.
Look at the green eyes! Few things have made me as happy as seeing those eyes.


The Devil's Performer: Nathan Altman
The Devil’s Performer: Nathan Altman

I wish I had taken a sneaky picture during the show, they had 15 sock puppets all performing Puppet Monologue #3. It was this surreal chant/rap. I loved it tremendously.

Puppet Monologue #1

[What? You don’t have friends that ask you to write dramatic monologues for puppets? How unfortunate. I’m going to write a series of these, to be potentially used in a live show later this year with actual puppets. Ain’t life grand?]

Methusio: ‘Allo.

Takes a long sip from his martini. Methusio has a terrible French accent. The more absurd the better.

My name is Methusio and I am glad to see you all here. Here in this quiet corner of the cosmos, this Twilight Kingdom. Things are strange here, but sometimes there is a comfort in the strange.

It is the real world that I find so distressing.

A sip.

Putting gas in your cars, watching the numbers float up. Getting into your car, and pushing the gas. You do it so many times. You drive to work, and you get out of the car and you lock the door, with your clicker. Click-click! And then you walk into work and you sit in the chair, and you turn on the computer, and you realize that you have to urinate, and you walk to the bathroom and you relieve yourself and you look in the mirror, but you don’t see yourself do you?

Do you?

And then you walk back to the computer and you type the emails, and you look at the Imagenumbers float up, the little clock at the corner of the screen, and you stretch and the phone rings and you watch the numbers float up. And then you eat a square plastic meal and you stare at the empty plate and don’t remember eating.

And then you go back to your car. Again. And you open the door and you push the gas, again. And you drive back home and you sleep and you dream. You look in the dream, but you don’t see yourself.

Do you?

Oh, no. I have distressed you. My apologies.

I know it is a very roundabout, European way to go about it — but I am trying to make a simple point.

In the blur of reality, how real are you?

Are you as real as I am? More? Less?

At the very least, I will say these words only once. Breathe only once. Die only once.

I have the certainty of brevity.

You have the doubt of repetition.

How much of this week do you truly remember? Honestly? How many blank moments in your car, or at your places of work did you truly experience?

A sip.

So, please try to remember this strange little moment in my Twilight Kingdom. And I will remember you. That is all we can do, eh? That and drink. That is all we can do. I will see you in my dream, and you can see me in yours. That is all we can do.