BLACK OLIVE BRANCHES (or…. “Trinculo’s Triangle” / or “A Fire in The Tempest”)
Yes, I knew that there would be some kind of answer but I thought it would be of a different kind. Like what? Well, like….”You were born here or there on such and such a date and here is your birth certificate and, by the way, you’re my son”.
Yes, that kind of answer – I knew – would never come.
B – So, what do you expect me to do now?
A – Give me the names. Give me their names and fuck off.
B – Come close.
A – ???
B- Come close, I said. Come close. There’s something I need to tell you. I’m alone in this world. Nobody gives a shit about whether I’m alive or dead. It’s not like….I’m not like the others who have, you know….achieved something. I’m nothing. My passage on earth won’t even be registered when I die. There will be no record of it. Nothing. Not a note so…
Why the fuck should I do anything for you? You’d do me a hell of a favor by shooting me right here and now. No-one would notice and, as for me….you’d rid me of my pain.
…………So? Shoot me. I won’t give you any names.
A- That means you know their names?
B- Does it matter at this point?
A – Maybe it doesn’t. You’re right. I came because…. I came because I’m deeply interested in something I know you care about. That’s all. I don’t really care about spies. They could all rot in hell as far as I’m concerned. But I do care about two things: The Venice Guetto and Justice. And you know quite well how the two are combined. Think about that. Just think about that.
Lawyer– Okay, you’re probably feeling a little bit depressed right now. Memories of the Guetto, perhaps?
Defendant – “SexLeaks” is going to release the first part of my ConFessions today. It will be great. I tell it all. About all.
Lawyer– No. You did not !!!! Come on !!! You did not !!!! Come on !!!
Defendant – It will be BLAST to see the circus on fire with all these hypocritical bastards going up in flames, torched, all on fire. WOOOF! The persecution of sex… so long….so tired… I mean hard sex, sex in the ass, scatological sex, orgiastic but NOT for show, Sergey, not for show, for real. Not for SHOW. I am talking about the PAIN OF BEING BORN and feeling it… of being reminded by it thru sex, every day, the beating, the bones and flesh hurting at the joints and the orifices all oozing, all those liquids, excrements… It isn’t even really sex I’m talking about but some extreme form of torture and YES – BEFORE YOU GIVE ME YOUR SILLY QUOTES FROM MARQUIS DE SADE and so on… let me tell you…
…..it’s far beyond that….far beyond that….
I’m so exhausted… and torn apart…
Like the slaves must have felt when their soul was robbed from them….and they were raped….and their identities were raped and here I am, here I am, BEGGING TO BE RAPED!
BEGGING TO BE A SLAVE.
Any comments, Sergey?
Sergey: I mean…since you are kind enough to ask…so we will then make it a teeny bit safer and increase compensation payments to widows of those you have raped and have raped you (or will rape you: I’m confused, forgive me!). They’d like to see class divisions eliminated… so we do our best to bring the classes marginally closer or, preferably, just make it seem that way. Does that seem okay to you?
Defendant – Does that seem okay? Sure. Once you find my body all cut up floating in the Canale Grande…who will ever give a shit?
Gerald Thomas © Copyright Venice Jan / Feb 2016