WORLD-SPORT: Act 2, Scene 3

MILOU: . . . I’m sorry.

[Beat].

MILOU: You know you can always be entirely free and open with me, right, & I’ll be coiled twice in your chest, like a starfish, to make it buckle forth?

AMERICAN PHYSICAL: . . . I find it really . . . hard to think these things about myself . . . and not just think I’m making a fuss about nothing.

MILOU: Of course you’re not, of course you’re not.

AMERICAN PHYSICAL: It’s taken me a long time.

MILOU: I know.

AMERICAN PHYSICAL: Why are you crying?

MILOU: I don’t know, I’m just unhappy all the time. Any-way. So, do you think it’s because, growing up, your wants were always performative? Like, What do they want me to want? But you have aversions, right? & probably as you negate the negation you build up who you really are?

[He must be talking about something that happened off-camera.]

AMERICAN PHYSICAL: I can’t talk about this when I know you’re unhappy. [Goes on Facebook.]

MILOU: I’m sorry.

AMERICAN PHYSICAL: Is that the real fire alarm . . .

MILOU: Not sure . . . so are you cross?

AMERICAN PHYSICAL: Not for any good reason.

[They’ve been stuck here the whole time, not feeling able to leave.]

HADDOCK: Love w/ ±1.5σ drift, so.

TINTIN’S ASHES: If ever you are in peril, blow this chiropodist.

[Haddock purses his lips – a joke, but Tintin’s Ashes tic a little more over the rim. The landscape. The dimple is much larger than had been apparent from the ridge. Biscuit Tintin. Leaning spinneys, & from them Archangel Toal returns with further firewood. The ground in all directions falls towards them by a grotesque staircase, the more unfair, for being natural. Roots come out the side. A ground mist gropes at their ceci ankles, "the sewnwage of the spirnit world."]

[Beat.]

AMERICAN PHYSICAL: Fuck.

[Milou contorts his face and rubs his eyes.]

TINTIN’S ASHES [still trying to smooth it over]: Hi, Caroline. I"m sorry because late to sent information for you.that's True My house since November is under mudflow and until now, we did not get conpentation from Lapindo Brantas inc. we just only get pay to house rent 2 years (5.000.000 rupiahs or 500 dollar for 2 years) but this money not enough to rent house for 2 years but for 1 years (this price rent house in Sidoarjo).

[Haddock throws pasta against the wall: it is not done. On the hob he turns white tuna over in the urn softening.]

HADDOCK [thinks]: You know, if [love w/ < ±1.5σ drift] then [the flak it’s my job to herd all round the naughty step has kinda taught itself to swirl.] [But out loud he only says . . .] HADDOCK: This is funny. Listen to this, "I cannot get my nipple tassles to swirl th same way, line break, as my asstassel, Kids these days have buns they download pieces of my ass into on Napster so I don’t have all the ass I require. Could you help

TINTIN’S ASHES: I AM listening, “Yours, aftosiac in Cudham.Now, still some people live in evacuation camp in Porong market but very bad condition,example: minimal facility (water,toilet,food,medicine etc).”

[Haddock throws pasta against the wall: it is not done.]

TINTIN’S ASHES: Lapindo Inc. did not give information How conpentation our house.our goverment give up this case and than slow to reaction in help people in Sidoarjo city.

[Haddock throws pasta against the wall: it is not done.]

TINTIN’S ASHES: Mudflow already 6 villages in Sidoarjo District (Kedungbendo,Tanggulangin,RenoKenongo,Siring,Jatirejo,Jabon) more than 30.000 household lost houses. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! "more than"

HADDOCK: Ha!

[Haddock throws pasta against the wall: it is not done.]

TINTIN’S ASHES: This condition, i think can't tolerance because Lapindo was do enviromental crime for many people in Sidoarjo, many peopel have not house, job, productive land, fabric, culture, social community,etc. so weak, tremulus & has recourse to only 2 sentiments:

[Haddock throws pasta against the wall: it is not done.]

ARCHANGEL TOAL [just standing there, holding sticks]: M-Malmesbury?

TINTIN’S ASHES: &, in a really fucking serious emergency

ARCHANGEL TOAL: M-Malmesbury Primary School?

[They click against one-another in his arms. He is the most tremulous, period. Haddock throws pasta against the wall: it is not done.]

TINTIN’S ASHES: many child was traumatice water, rain, cloudy.They are affraid look the rain, cloudy.I turn her spring for what I believe will be a snignicicant un-screwing: tease her, insult her, pay her attention,listen seriously her and frown,as if disappoint,touch her,spend money with reckless contemt,sit up straight,be bored by her,look over her friend,joke at my self,empty purse again,leave in the midst of her laugh,have her be with men who love me,yearn angrily and abruptly and without pattern,be always first to switch between satire and kindness,swift to that,hint darkly,despise,in all,contrive that despite my minute,humane,borderline divine scrutiny of her desirable qualities,her life so chafes mine that only its instant flowering for mucous membrane make me stay by her side,nt abandon to blank skirmish,puck skirmish,in dot,bollard,foosman,coaster,flipper,why should I be muggins.This's very sad for me. this's photographs, maybe can help me to campaign in your network.

[Haddock throws pasta against the wall: it is not done.]

TINTIN’S ASHES:

Ok, you can contact for me if you need

any information.

mobile number:07799471737.

Thaks alot of

Iva. it loox light already. clearly a narc. victori

[Haddock throws pasta against the wall: you know how we do.]

MILOU: I love you Physical.

AMERICAN PHYSICAL: You too."

[Exit Mi – American Physical. The vapour is cold and sour, like the milk of dead cattle. It films over and rushes around standing stones and husks of trunk, throwing up knee-high archipelagos for the homosocial travellers to pick through with trepidation. Archangel Toal inputs sticks in twos. Eventually a sunbeam begins to lase the mist, and their campsite becomes blotched with solid ground, the remaining patches of mist behaving like terrified little animals, swirling in panic and diving down fissures. Enter Windcunter Motherland with “Pet Voyage” box. He sets it down & undoes the clasp; enter Sophie].

KESTON: Why is he wearing that thing?

SOPHIE: Elizabethan collar. If you kiss the dog within, you will weaken an authority somewhere and somewhen. A thought experiment about attitudes towards authority, metaphysical in flavour. The theoretical point in my body, to where the cone would taper. Also available. The tuna-friendly tuna white sauce Toal wants is not politics, exactly . . .

[Windcunter Motherland throws pasta at Keston: he ducks: it is not done.]

SOPHIE: Twilit & Llamb, you’ve been quiet over there: me & the other cats were scuffling in the rubbish. We went raar.

[Deloyt&Tush is beginning to realise Sophie's not proper.]

SOPHIE: Always carry a few things with me. Never know when they might come in handy. Piece of blue glass. Lovely bit of string. Horseshoe nail.

DELOYT&TUSH [thinks]: My mouth is her mouth. My bristles pin it in place.

[But he thinks quick . . .]

DELOYT&TUSH [generously]: This is the apply-the-layout-across-the-spectrum-just-to-the-Left thing again isn’t it? Syncrenism, uh, shuriken?

[Shuriken lazes as if same.]

SURD BLOTCH SUDS: “[…] here the poets have to sign an agreement to be really 'nice' to each other at all times. they are all insane. personally, I think if a few more poets called each other cunts everything would be much more healthy […]”

MRS. NAPE O CLOACA: “[…] I want so much to be alone & I’m afraid to be alone. Everything’s shit […]”

DELOYT&TUSH: I mean, strict immigration laws are in my interests as an employer. They’ll get in anyway and then I don’t have to bother with social protectionism. I can milk – we’ll call it things like “compulsory employee accommodation” and “compulsory employee transport scheme” –

tamer

TINTIN’S ASHES: The element that can use s’it intelligence to look ahead is by nature ruler and by nature master, while that which has the bodily stretngh to do the actual work is by nature a slave, one of those who are ruled. There’s this like a common –

DELOYT&TUSH: Fuck slavery, my point is what kind of interests are they? My interests in the stricter immibration law? How do they compare with the wants American Physical is not sure are her own? Tintin’s Ashes knows what they want, they wants a slow-roast duck with port and five-spice sauce slightly offset from the real one.

TINTIN’S ASHES: Thanks for that.

DELOYT&TUSH: Interests are not going to map ardour are they? Interests. Interests! Interests! INTERESTS!

SOPHIE: . . . can I just stop you there because my point follows almost exactly on? Crab on footprint. Be my Beal. Pat Beal is my / wife. I am keeping it / Beal.

[Haddock throws pasta against the wall: it is not done.]

HADDOCK & DELOYT&TUSH: . . .

SOPHIE: Just be aware.

[Haddock throws pasta against the wall: it is not done.]

SOPHIE: Pop her clogs. 56, Beel's good inning. Well I pissed so hard on a lamppost it fell over. Nailed in a bollard. Like Jamie Oliver: “Bam! Done.”

[Haddock throws pasta against the wall: it is not done.]

SOPHIE: “Bam! Done.” Look, the fact that you let yourself be sucked into situations where you're stringing some poor bastard along, hating him all the while, is merely an expression of the fact that you can't be bothered to sleep with someone who doesn't flip your cosmic switch to ON –

[Haddock, Milou’s Ashes, Tintin’s Ashes, American Physical, Thanatos & jUStin! grab her & stuff her in the box. Archangel Toal pretends not to see.]

SOPHIE [howling]: If a cat who sees the essence of social and individual reality says what he sees, without sham and equivocation, he is taken to be egocentric, aggressive and vain! If he has unshakable convictions, he is called a fanatic, quite regardless of whether these convictions are acquired by intense experience and thought, or whether they are irrational ideas with a paranoid tinge!

HADDOCK [to Toal, over the howls [Rown Bones]]: Should it be 1.1.a, 1.1b, etc., or 1.1.i, 1.1.ii, etc.?!

[Sophie is trying to express something about sexual aid. The sexually rich entities' missed target of 0.7% Gross Domestic Punani, the failure of sexual restructuring conditionality – where, by the way, Sophie totally overemphasises the institutional interests putting pressure on sexual disbursement even in absence of sexual reform by the sexually impoverished nation & forgets about just main fucking – & the question of civil society spud bollard dome card spade feature.]

ARCHANGEL TOAL [really loudly]: I’m more “interests-based”; it’ll get tricky if we ever got beyond xxviii!

AMERICAN PHYSICAL [meanwhile]: How’s the tuna?!

MILOU [tasting it]: All right!

AMERICAN PHYSICAL [ditto]: It doesn’t taste of tin?!

MILOU: What?!

MILOU [thinks]: I can’t understand you because of your accent! [sic!]

AMERICAN PHYSICAL: You know, sometimes it tastes of tin . . .

MILOU: NO.

[Milou sneezes].

AMERICAN PHYSICAL: I guess you’re getting a cold.

[They negate the negation – instead of speaking over the howls, they speak over the speaking over the howl’s overness].

_______ [rebel yell whisper]: I fear her more than my kids I’ve diddled.

DOManagers / PA to Directors Joan Tompkons

HADDOCK: 1.1.a or 1.1.i. Choose. The wall of the excluded diddle & so forth. m

["They say Christ's suffering was sufficient for our sin because His exquisite nervous net felt the pain infinitely folded, like coastline; similarly in our contrived quest, which we grew from our in our pettiness in the face of the true quest, no impressions whirled through our foosman nerves, as far from men we were as men are from Christ. Many times our bones were swept clean. Now it's time to tussle with an average griffin or perish in a cowlick of sun. Cock and gun theoretically distinct but many times I came on my enemies, wounded my woman" is one way Sophie would have put International Muff Fondue each time she said, OK? ... now even Sophie temporarily falls silent. The heard sea comes gridded from the conch where A.T. dropped it in the spinneys.]

[Beat.]

ARCHANGEL TOAL: Muh muh muh. Malm. If, if you are in ever peril blame this conch. If, furnished with adequate information, in its deliberations, every part of my preference has no communication one with another, the grand total of the small differences would always give the general will, and that preference, perhaps for the letter, perhaps for the numeral, would always be good. "Not read me pls." But when factions arise within the preference, and partial associations are formed at the expense of the great association, the will of each of these associations becomes general in relation to its members, while it remains particular in relation to the preference: it may then be said that there are no longer as many ballots as there are parts to my preference, but only as many as there are reassociations of preference in partage.

[American Physical’s soft vane hands ceci tug on Toal’s anti-gravitas belt. Lellow gas, presumably venomous, comes gridded & grr-green thru the mask of the Pet Voyager box.]

ARCHANGEL TOAL: The differences become less(tm) numerous and give a less general result. Then, when one of these associations is so great as to prevail over all the rest, the result is no longer a sum of small differences, but a single difference; in this case there is no longer a general will, and the preference which prevails is purely particular. Uh . . .

[American Physical put his lips to the shaft & murmurs “jock solon.” Haddock throws pasta against the wall: it is not done.]

ARCHANGEL TOAL: H-how much water does the argument that self-anaylsis is deficient in comparison to analysis that comes externally hold? Malmesbury. I accept that the trained psychoanalyst will have access to certain 'tricks' that the [M /============ ceci --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Katko ------------------::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::--------------.==] lay analysand would not possess, but this is relationship between two extreme individuals that do not necessarily represent every case. I feel as though self-anaylsis is underrated and written off prematurely. I'd say the argument only holds 4/10 water. Malmesbury.

Negative beard now

TINTIN’S ASHES: The grounds, according at least to Freud's logic of repression, for the analyst having access to the pathogenic source of neurosis which is blocked to the self-observing neurotic has nothing to do with analytic competence or greater familiarity with psychoanalytic concepts on the doctor's part. The 'deficiency' of self-analysis as vs. analyst/analysand arrangement you suggest is, from the point of view of clinical psychotherapy, not a matter of dispute for any argument for or against psychoanalysis but a demonstrable sickness-cure relation. Psychoanalysis, in its proper (i.e. clinical) context, "works" where the patient is cured of her neurosis. The reason it cannot hope to "work" in this way if I, wielding my knowledge of psychoanalytic ideas and practice, attempt to analyse myself, is that there can be no transference. That is, there is no external technician to draw the affective force of repression off its ideational content and onto himself, revealing the source of trauma and repression and allowing me see it in the light of adult reasonableness, annulling the neurosis. I can't do this alone because it is the function of my neurosis to hide its origin, or in other words to prevent the repressed content from surfacing at all costs. It does this by generating a kind of force-field of terror around itself, penetrating a network of interconnected ideas. The analyst can survey the effects of this force-field and then probe the points of greatest resistance, causing me to hate him (a cause for optimism on his part, as he knows he may be getting close), until eventually, Jamie Oliver, BAM, done, he hits it and I understand that the reason I have a pathological terror of woodlice is etc. etc.

HADDOCK: It’s good to finally have some content I can jaw my parafunctions through.

[Haddock throws pasta against the wall: it is not done.]

SOPHIE: Have you assholes considered the problem might be with the wall?

[Milou throws luminious prelinguistic jelly against the wall: it sticks.]

TINTIN’S ASHES: Going a step further, Freud would insist on the necessity of an external analyst because it is precisely 'self-analysis' that the neurosis has the power to direct and manipulate. The more satisfying the answers you find about yourself, the better for the neurosis, as its true hiding place is all-the-better concealed. And by "satisfying" I don't mean the kind of analysis that makes you feel good about yourself - you can speculate to your heart's content about probably secretly wanting to do your mum and this will "satisfy" the criterion of repressed content being pathologically unbearable, but it may not necessarily point to the actual cause of your illness.

[Haddock throws pasta against the wall: it sticks. Ah.]

TINTIN’S ASHES: BUT, and I'm sorry to make you have sat through that if you don't give a twinker's fizz about neurosis and psychotherapy, and are solely interested in the application of Freudian ideas to proximally normal psychological life, how much can Freud tell us about our man in the street? And doesn't he really know himself better than any fancy-man with a pince-nez, a phD and a ridiculous fucking cape? Doubtless:

[They have found a clean rock face and thrown all the remaining pasta against it to demonstate that it is done. Sophie’s DMAIC laughter turns into a sob turns into a burp turns into a mouth shit & thereafter cycles. She’s basically out of the picture now. American Physical sucks like a prop. DELOYT&TUSH shuckles Toal’s balls. Biscuit Tintin’s Ashes Lid holds a rimmer up to nature. Anybody left? He or she throws the pasta onto your pasta, cutting it like Robin Hood.]

ARCHANGEL TOAL: Ugh! Malmesbury . . .

[Haddock threads pasta through Archangel Toal’s belt loops: he’s not going anywhere: it is not done. D&T retches; drags the Pet Voyager onto the little fire, careful not to put it out. A corner catches.]

ARCHANGEL TOAL: Malmesbury . . . Malmesbury . . .

[Everyone except Sophie & one other (anon.) now has the option of blowing your chiropodist, while pretending to D&T & the others that you're just blowing Toal, or not. This is what will happen if you blow him. There will be the stench of sewage before the chiropodist cums, & c.15% that you won't be quick enough, & will contract the infection. The only other rule is, you can't know if any of the others have elected to blow their chiropodists until you have made your decision. Write it down on a bit of ouevre. Haddock ties pasta about & about the base of Toal’s erection. His knuckles are the deft slime rubbed from seraph eyes. Th Ace claims detail]

It’s teh big milk … teh other two milks ain’t working …

Now, Gabrielle knew the trick of keeping milk in a nod alright, but

[Much later.]

ARCHANGEL TOAL: MAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAMALMESBURY PRIMARY SCHOOL!!!