I Improve "Rebel Moon -- Part One"

I watched Rebel Moon on Netflix. I kept my expectations quite low and the show met them.

I thought the girl working the fields under the pinkish light reflecting off the huge planet was both cool and, at the same time, kinda hot. Then I wondered if her moon was tidally locked to that huge planet like our moon is to Earth and if that huge planet blocked the sun for half of the moon's orbit. Then I stopped thinking, which helped.

The girl lives with a bunch of Viking farmers who are pining for the fjords. She is with them but not of them. A Nazi guy shows up in a big, planet-killing ship and gives the Vikings what for. It seems the Vikings have turned Amish and stubbornly refuse to buy mechanical harvesters that will ruin their close-to-god lifestyle but produce more food for their conquerors.

I'm confused about the Nazis because the soldiers left behind are Australian. One of them says, "Throw another steak on the barbie, mate, while I rape the kind-hearted hot blondie carrying the water bucket." I think the blond girl they try to rape is that same special, life-affirming princess so often discussed. I say this because the female fieldhand-ninja that came to her rescue was the bodyguard of the Princess before that terrible thing that happened...happened. So wouldn't they both crash in that same spaceship? Oh, right, apparently there was a crashed spaceship. Questions remain: Was Anthony Hopkins voicing the pacifist robot who's in deep-like with the blond girl? Was that child-stealing spider-lady actually a misunderstood person or an understood giant spider?

One thing I like about this universe is that the neighboring planets are so close you can walk between them. OK, they do find a charming smuggler with a spaceship to eliminate some of the hiking. The plot is "The Magnificent Seven Space Samurai" meet "The Empire as it Strikes Back." The guy playing the gruff "Charles Bronson" part is a griffin whisperer, so he has a bit of the suave Robert Redford in him.

Robert Redford played the horse whisperer in The Horse Whisperer. He helped a lame Scarlett Johansen's horse. Scarlett's character really was lame -- though not a lesbian, near as I could tell. The horse wasn't doing too good, either. Scarlett and her horse got hit by a truck. I was dragged off to see this movie and I thought it was "The Hoarse Whisperer," which made sense because if you are hoarse, you are going to whisper. So at the beginning, I'd ask, "Who's hoarse?" And she'd say, "It's the girl's horse." And I'd say, "Sure, but who's hoarse!" and she'd say, "Stop it!"

Where was I? Right. I thought the griffin should have flown upside down to ditch the whisperer, done in slo-mo, of course. The movie needs mo' slo-mo. And mo'cowbell in the musical score.

I did enjoy the climactic but ridiculous fight scene on the "floating drydock" above the clouds. The female fieldhand-ninja gets to meet, and temporarily defeat, her Nazi Nemesis -- who must have tucked and rolled after that long, hard fall.

I got a bit of a quibble. Earlier in the show, when she was at the campfire with the Viking Amish Farmer fella, she could explain that she was graciously adopted by a powerful evil commander after he made her an orphan. He did painful experiments on her. You always hurt the one you love was his favorite saying. She could tell the Amish Viking, "Small as I seem, I'm not just much stronger and meaner than you -- I weigh a lot more."

Then he looks at her quizzically and she explains, "I'm dense. I'm 87.6 percent Unobtainium, which is why I'm so light on my feet and yet rugged. Try to break my arm. Oh, go ahead, try to break it. You can't. Even my wounds heal quickly on account of all those tiny blood-bots that repair everything. Sometimes those blood-bots take over and make me do terrible things -- but not so much lately!"

Then she'd stare off into the distance and we'd cut to the flashback, "We found the Unobtainium on a lovely, lush planet where we met these beautiful and charming blue people and killed them. My evil stepdad established mines there which operate in harsh conditions but do provide employment for millions of slaves. My stepdad says it's the last job they'll ever need. He's funny, sometimes, and loves animals and prepubescent boys. I have enough highly refined Unobtainium in me to power the entire imperial fleet for five years -- that's why I'm a much sought-after commodity. Melt me -- which won't be easy cause I don't want to be melted -- and I'm high-grade fuel. Yeah, I'm denser than normal but also a wonderful dancer. Wanna dance? No? I'm good on the farm, too. I don't need no thick-headed stallion to pull that plow. I'll do it myself."  

In this way, she could explain her immense Physical Prowess, and how she keeps beating up all those guys.

There is a rumored Part Two. Am I right about that Extra-Special Life-affirming Princess being the water-carrying farm girl? Are the Amish Viking Villagers actually the Seven Dwarves? Stay-tunned.

Dead Secrets, Living Lessons

This first appeared fifteen years ago.

I often watch "Secrets of the Dead" on PBS. I like the program for what it reveals about Western Intellectuals. One episode speculated that the Christians burned down ancient Rome (Christians who were at the same time Jews), thus, in this rendition, clearing Emperor Nero of arson -- though he may have fiddled during the flames, no way to tell.

I first saw the episode that will reprise on Wednesday (Aztec Massacre) in April. It deals with the encounter of the Aztec Empire with "Cortes and the Conquistadors." It centers on captured Spaniards (including women) who were sacrificed along with some unruly subjects of the Aztecs.

The ritual involved skillfully ripping the heart out of a living human; lifting said heart up to the sky while it is still beating; tossing the heartless (and maybe headless, I forgot to take notes) body down a steep flight of steps; butchering said heartless/headless/discarded body.

Well, I thought we could all come together on this behavior and say "That is just wrong." Liberal and Conservative could finally agree -- Marxist Intellectual and capitalist Robber Baron as well.

OK, maybe we all know that one special "exception" to the rule where ripping out the heart might be understandable (though never condoned). But to do this by the thousands? At what point have you gone from a Civilization that has "a problem" to "A Problem" that has a civilization? I mean, talk about the church militant.

Gee, I lack nuance. First, the slaughter was done to keep the sun in the sky and the sun is still up there so they must have done a pretty good job. Plus, the Aztecs lacked beasts of burden and their subject people kinda filled that role. And what do you do with an ornery beast of burden? You turn him into a much-needed protein supplement -- and do it in a way to encourage "the others." So: Sun's in the sky. Maize is in the fields. Pyramid's gettin' built. Capital's kept clean. And all the Spaceships are solar-powered (sorry, that was Atlantis). Why, times were almost good.

Then Cortes shows up -- a combination entrepreneur and labor-organizing thug who's gonna steal your retirement. If only he weren't an entrepreneur but, alas!

At this point, the Aztec Priestly caste became the "resistance." What's the evidence they turned into minutemen? There were Spanish heads included in those skull racks -- along with the heads of their new-fangled horses (Listen, burden-carrying oppressed peoples, those ponies want your jobs).

Well, I concluded that one priestly caste (tenured academia) identifies strongly with another priestly caste. The Priests no doubt bathed more frequently than the on-the-make Spaniards. They were respectful of (their) learning and knew the value of a good protein supplement. They knew how to get additional sacrifices from their unwilling populations to keep their institutions up and running. They did not beg for grants, they just took that pound of flesh, only by the ton!

I, on the other hand, saw those Aztec intellectuals as bitter men clinging to their religion and razor-sharp obsidian ceremonial blades, all the while fearing change and blaming migrants for bringing "new ideas and new beliefs."

Meanwhile, with the help of a vicious pandemic, the Spaniards slipped into the role of the Aztecs. 

Those who rule in the present can have a certain regard for the problems the Aztec rulers faced. I mean, keeping the sun up in the sky is thirsty work. And as the sun gets closer, the globe gets hotter. That means more sacrifices to push it back up and keep things cool. And how do you get folks to willingly sacrifice (or unwillingly, when it comes down to it) to keep that grand project well-resourced?

Am I being unfair here? Let me think. Nah.

Fear not the Weeper

No matter the Calamities and Complaints that beset our world, I am not depressed, nor do I feel despair. What is my secret? I just whistle. Whistle? Yes, whistle. Like the seven unemployed dwarfs in a Disney remake of Snow White, I whistle.

Just whistle while you walk,
Do-dee do, do, do, do, do!
Just whistle while you walk,
Pass the graveyard.
(Pass the graveyard)

If you're feeling blue,

With no work to do,
'Cause the man laid you off,
Just whistle as you walk...
Pass the graveyard.

Should you find you're in despair,
Because you're totally aware.
Go ahead, just deny.
Live life on the fly --
Pass the graveyard.

If you were a Nigerian,
You’d be happy just to own a hen.
And when the militias came,
Not to be the ball in a game --
At the graveyard.
(In the graveyard)

If there’s a planetary war,
And you’re terrified to the core,
Just put on your boots and do skiddoo
And whistle! Yes, whistle.
Pass the graveyard!

They say VX is a gas
That will really kill you fast.

As you cough up all your cares...
Don’t argue life ain't fair...
Lay your cards on the table
And whistle (if you're able)...

Uh...

Say you're dead and just don't know!
Then continue with the flow,
And Go...
Past, the Graveyard!
(Get Past, the Graveyard)

(Done with Rockette style kicks)

Turn your Depression upside down.
Wear a smile, hardly ever frown!
Do as we do and whoop-we-doo
And whistle! Yes, whistle.
Past the graveyard.

Do-dee Doo-doo do!

This could be a duet between a Basso profundo and an Alto, tremble-a-lot-oh. It should be sung to the tune of, well, ah, Stairway to Heaven.

Safety Quest

  Oh, hell. I don't feel like explaining this.

 Quest Carefully

Often when on a Quest
You'll create an unholy mess
And cause great distress to others:
Such as horses, goats and your mother.
So it is best,
Outside the nest,
To Quest -- carefully.

When you see a dragon at the break of day,
Run away.
Run away.
Do not believe what the soothsayers say.
Require proof
From the sooth.
If an old man on a bridge offers his advice,
Treat him nice.
Treat him nice.

Quest Carefully.

Use care as you stare
At Buxom, bawdy, barmaids.
Do not imbibe the potions you get
From cute redheads, and brunettes.
Blonds, too,
If it's true,
They've had more fun --
Meaning more flings flung.
And when climbing a ladder
To rescue her from "what's the matter?"
Don't stand on the top rung.

Quest Carefully.

As you pursue your Quest
Never rest, never rest --
Recklessly.
Do not be reckless in your rest!

Sleep with care.

Beware! The woods have bears
And the forest is where
The wolves have their lairs.
And never eat meat
unless it's been cooked to an internal temperature
Of 160 degrees Fahrenheit and you should immediately refrigerate --
Yes, refrigerate!
The unused portions.
This is also the case
When you reheat -- and eat --
the meat you think safe.
Why not be a Vegan?

Quest Carefully. Quest Carefully.
And as you quest, never rest -- recklessly.

I left some hair colors out (space considerations).

Poor Wandering Wonderer -- True Love Built on Lies.

Act II, Scene 1, of the Prodigals of Penance. Act I, Scene 1, is here.

I continue my foray into Comic Lite-Opera Reality. The work is now the attempted merger of Hamlet and Blazing Saddles (with a bit of Pinocchio thrown in), done in the spirit of Gilbert and Sullivan! Below, Sad Poppins mentions the Piltdown Man, an evolutionary "missing link" bone hoax that dragged on for 40 years. Hamlet sings of the Kinsey Report, a human sexuality study so flawed that even Wikipedia has a hard time defending it.

The story so far: The World Leaders and hangers-on have danced offstage. Hamlet Omlet and Sad Poppins are about to further their relationship. Hamlet has uncovered many flaws in the "science" funded by Artful Shortseller, the world's richest man. He senses the real purpose of his grant is to "paper over" the inadequacies he's found. Sad Poppins feels it would be best if he fulfills his role and, what the heck, just cash the check.

ACT II, SCENE 1: Poor Wandering Wonderer.

(Shrotseller's Estate: SAD POPPINS stands alone in the garden. HAMLET OMLET enters, walking in a seeming trance.)

HAMLET OMLET

They've created such a racket,

I can hardly work.

And my work...is hardly...worth it.

SAD POPPINS (watching him, sings)

Poor Wandering Wonderer

Wondering Where to Wan-der!

You don't think like the rest.

Your head is a mess,

So full of thoughts --

They drip out like snot...

(approaches Hamlet)

You are the studier of studies.

Who studies, the studies, in Shortseller's study.

Your task is incomplete--

HAMLET OMLET

Like rain turning to sleet.

(steps towards her)

And you're the activist child.

The bold little scold,

With the winning frown.

SAD

I thought the world would let me down.

The Earth, not be around.

But as I've grown

(shows herself off a bit)

Into my own --

I found it really weird!

The planet, you see, is still here!

HAMLET OMLET

By eliminating the Earth,

With all its dirt,

We could eliminate our fears.

(thoughtfully, strolling)

Or we could simply go extinct,

And no longer have to think.

SAD POPPINS (following)

Poor Wandering Wonderer

Wondering Where to Wan-der.

You don't think like the rest.

Your head is a mess.

So full of thoughts

They drip out like snot.

HAMLET OMLET(distressed)

I simply cannot lie.

It is just too hard to disguise.

When I fabricate,

Right out of the gate,

(indicates his groin area)

It gets hard!

As the tension goes up,

My ha-ha-heart thumps!

(pounds his chest)

The blood in my veins

Feels the added strain.

The blood my heart pumps 

Flows into my consider-able stump!

 

And it grows, grows, grows --

Like some elongated nose,

Or an acorn into an oak.

It happens at a stroke!

It's not just unseemly, you see,

But po-tential-ly!

Most un-semen-ly...

(walks)

Yes, I'm stilted...

By this pilted...

Woody, wood-pecker.

SAD POPPINS (injects)

Like Pinocchio in a pinch.

Or, the Pilt-down Man!

A "find" that was a Scientific Scam -- 

With the wrong bone

In the wrong place:

A most potent -- disgrace. 

HAMLET OMLET

Lying's not a sport,

Like some Kinsey Report.

Whenever I lie,

(indicates his groin, distressed)

It gets hard against my fly!

I can't lie, I can't lie, I can't lie.

(walks)

SAD POPPINS

Oh, Poor Wandering Wonderer,

Woody in a wood of lies!

I am sorry for you!

'Cause your own sorrow won't do.

You don't think like the rest.

Your head's such a mess.

So full of thoughts,

They drip out like snot!

(thinks, taps his shoulder)

If only you were a woman.

The problem with your wood

Would disappear!

If only you could,

Eliminate the wood!

HAMLET OMLET

That sounds fantastic,

but just...a little...drastic.

SAD POPPINS (agrees)

Sub-optimal, yes,

But if you just wore a dress...

You could easily skirt the truth.

Or turn your back,

On in-convenient facts.

But still...

HAMLET OMLET

I'll wear a kilt!

I could present an address...

In a kilt, not a dress.

I could turn my back,

As I speak with great tact,

Over...my...shoulder?

SAD POPPINS

Here's an act -- that's bolder.

(Takes his hand)

Simply lie with me!

If you lie with me,

Your lies will be disguised, by me!

You simply pretend

We're in love, without end!

In Love with a fire,

Of burning -- lustful desire.

And: 

No one will be the wiser.

We could lie, lie, lie, together.

No one would know any better.

 

HAMLET OMLET(confused)

In truth, I am getting woody.

I should return to my studies.

I could be me-too'ed

Because I am woody for you...

I really can't lie...

As I look into your -- lovely, eyes...

(turns)

But I fear my career --

Could dissolve in your tears.

(walks away)

SAD POPPINS (follows him)

Poor wandering woody one!

What wonderous lies lie ahead!

Don't fear for your career.

You'll be a believable steer, 

If you lie, lie, lie -- with me.

(Sounds from off stages)

DANCING BANKERS

Hrumph, Hrumph -- Hrumph, Hrumph, Hrumph.

SAD POPPINS

You cannot stay.

Artful Shortseller

Is on his way.

We'll meet after dark.

HAMLET OMLET

And wonderful lies

We can con-cock!

Con-con, concoct. 

(As Hamlet Omlet leaves, Artful Shortseller enters).

ART SHORTSELLER (to the audience)

He's such a poor liar.

He needs to retire.

My estate is built

On a house of cards.

One jilt from that joker...

And...

 

Oh, forsooth and forsaken!

My empire shaken!

Imagine, a jerk like that,

Bringing about my total collapse!

I suppose he would say,

He means well, OK.

Well, I have a "mean well"

For him.

(maniacal laugh, steps to the side for...)

DANCING BANKERS (Marching on stage)

Hrumph, Hrumph -- Hrumph, Hrumph, Hrumph.

ART

Now the Bankers want their say.

They mean well, too,

It should be a tattoo. 

Let them implore.

I'll ignore.

ACT II SCENE 2

(The Central Banker leads The Dancing Bankers on stage. They are dressed for the Beach. The Central Banker gets a little rough treatment from the others. He's shoved to center stage.)

CENTRAL BANKER (addresses the audience)

This is The World Conference...

That will Solve...

Your Problems...

In One Foul Swipe.

(speaks clearly)

You see, all your problems are ours;

All our problems are yours.

And you are our problem.

(Indicates the surroundings) 

We're at the home 

Of the World's Richest man.

Artful Shortseller's estate, Eden!

 

DANCING BANKERS (An echoing murmur)

Eden, Eden, Eden...

 

CENTRAL BANKER 

It's his own state!

An island all its own.

An island that he owns. Eden.

 

DANCING BANKERS

Eden, Eden, Eden...

 

CENTRAL BANKER

I'm the Central Banker,
I don't get many thanks
When the other banks

(indicates the others)

Need a spank:
That Great Current of Currency,
Upon which they depend --
Is Currently Curtailed!
If not totally at an end. 
It flowed through their vaults
And its lack, now felt, is my fault

  

(The band picks up with a thumping, almost pounding, beat. The Dancing Bankers surround the Central Banker. They sing to the tune of Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band)

World Class Dancing, Banker Band

THE DANCING BANKERS (To the central banker, with loud reproach)

It was a hundred years ago!

When you really did steal the show!

People's money was never the same,

As you played your curren-cy game.

When interest rates you amend

To bring easy money to an end... 

After we've done so much good,

By gutting their neighborhoods!

We're the World Class Dancing, Banker Band!

CENTRAL BANKER (to the audience)

Their Animal Spirits were on a lark,

But the funny-money, once in "drive,"

Is now in "park."

THE DANCING BANKERS (Explaining)

We're good citizens of the World!

With finances in a swirl.

Speculators cause much pain,

As their loans go down the drain.

So now we're il-liquid.

Lacking the reserves, we should...

(to the central banker)

So we want you to understand,

We'd like you to give a hand...

To the Empty Pockets, Bankster, Bah-an-d!

 

CENTRAL BANKER

They want to restart the game.

With me providing the gains...

a-gain.

The losses we'll spread about,

Like lots of vacant shops. 

(The Dancing Bankers push the Central Banker out of the way.)

CENTRAL BANKER

Don't Panic at the Picnic!

(The orchestra is back to horn tooting)

DANCING BANKERS (Pace quickens, to the Audience, upset)

With those problems, you're on your own!

So kindly get off the phone!

We're awfully short of cash!

We're bankers who've lost their stash!

Our institution's got the runs!

It's playing havoc with the sums!

...um...um...um-m-m.

 

 (A female banker sweetly changes the tune)

You're such love-ly depositors --

You really are our kind --

You're such love-ly depositors,

Sit back and watch your fortune grow!

Sit back and watch it grow!

 

 (The rest return to firm declarations)

Your bankruptcy's on us!

But our Bankruptcy's on you!

We're whales too big to fail!

So you have to cover our tail!

 

( Pause, as the female banket again changes the tune)

You're such lovely homeowners,

With mortgages to fill.

We'd like to take your homes with us.

We'd love to take your homes!

 

 (The rest)

Yes, we'd rather issue demands

But really do need a hand!

So we'll issue our appeal,

To the man who really steals...

The show, when you have to show!

The assets that cover your ass!

We've come to find him here!

Our savior of the year --

(slowly, with begging hands)

Art...ful...Short...sell-er...

(They trail off...as the orchestra changes tempo to blues/jazz, with snare drums. The Central Banker moves to center stage. He puts his sunglasses on and snaps his fingers. Sings to the tune of Mack the Knife.)

The Shortseller Song

CENTRAL BANKER (His best Bobby Darin Blues)

Oh, Financial sharks,

Prowl the seas, babes.

And they'll feed in --

Market waves.

They have such teeth -- dear!

If you could see them!

They're ru-by, ruby-red.

 

When red ink's spilled

By Cor-po-rate shills--

My-little-darlings don't-you-know!

So much gore is,

On the market floor.

But on Shortseller, there's not the stink, babe

Of all...your -- all your red ink!

Your pension fund --

So you think, dears --

Bought juicy steaks,

With your stake!

Till Artful wields his -- skillful scalpel.

Leaving bare bones, upon your plate.

(Art enters and marches to center stage. Exudes calm as the Central Banker slinks off)

DANCING BANKERS

Artful, Artful, Artful...

The Mean Well Song

ART (he brings the tempo down)

There's no reason for alarm.

Every reason, to be calm.

We're in the eye of every storm,

And here, calm is the norm.

Your problem is but a pimple.

The solution is -- quite simple! 

 (Sways as he sings)

Just mean well, if you mean well,
Then everything will seem well!
If you mean well, then you'll be well,
No one will be mean to you!
If you mean well in all that you do.
They'll never blame you--
When they've been royally screwed...

If you're mean, mean, mean,

You want to be seen as -- well meaning.

 

DANCING BANKERS (With relief)

They can't attack good intentions.

Even when these intentions are...

An...invention.

(swaying while figuring it out) 

If it seems...well,

Like we mean well,

Then the middling mean...that's sits inbetween,

The well-off...and the off-well...

Will think that we're just swell.

(as they dance off-stage)

When we're mean-mean-mean,

No matter how mean we may seem...

If we're all called well-meaning,

Well meaning is how we'll be seeming!

 

ART (calls after them)

Mean-well in all your deeds!

(laughs, to the audience)

For the mean-well

Is a deep well, indeed!

(laughs maniacally)

END OF SCENE

 

The Prodigals of Penance, the "You got me in stitches" edition

This is Act I, Scene 2  and Scene 3 of The Prodigals of Penance, rewritten for the ages. Scene 1 is here

The lyrics to "Diplomatic Creep" may be sung to the tune of "With Cat Like Tread." Why anyone would want to do that, I would not know.

Setting: The Estate of Artful Shortseller. Art is sponsoring "The World Conference to Solve All Your Problems with One Foul Swipe." Art had his moment center stage. After he departs, others arrive.

Characters:

Sadye "Sad" Poppins (former child activist, now a 18+ one)

Hamlet Omlet: The studier of studies in Shortseller's study. 

EU Leaders (in tuxes and top hats)

BBC Journalists (Pants Suits)

President Cleave

Sec. of State, Tempest Teapot (former Starlet and Yale Drama Major) 

Secretary of the Treasury, and Political Hack, Timothy "Tinny" Tinsmith

Administration Foreign Policy Advisers (Tie-dyed)

U.S. Journalists (They carry pom-poms, and file the same story)

Lawyer/Lobbyists

Scene 2: Europe Gets its Act Together.

As Artful Shortseller and "The Dancing Central Bankers" leave the stage, a sad Poppins enters. 

SAD POPPINS (spoken)

Geez. I wonder. Did Shortseller make his fortune in undergarments?

(Sings and sways) 

My name is Sadye Poppins!

But depressed I am, often.

I'm often depressed

'Cause the world is a mess.

I feel sad, I feel sad,

So-so sad -- often.

So call me sad -- sad, sad. Sad! Poppins.

  (looks)

But Hark, who approaches?

Is he a groper

Or a doper? (looks closer)

Oh, it's Hamlet Om-uh-let.

They say he's quite intellegent.

He has a cute rear...

But his expression is -- severe! (hides)

 

HAMLET OMLET (He calculates as he walks)

In Shortseller's Study,

I write my own study,

That studies...the studies of others. (He ponders)

Whose studies combined,

Bring no peace of mind...

They should be terrific.

Quite scien-tific!

 

But conclusions are often reached,

With a stretch -- sometimes a leap!

Simple arithmetic,

Could cause a science...rift! 

It's very confusing, brother.

My head's a mess, mother.

SAD POPPINS (to the audience)

If he calls me his sister,

His lip will get a blister.

HAMLET OMLET (wanders off)

Shortseller's actions, I fear,

Pour Poison in Science's ear.

Its spirit now haunts me,

Like some mental dis-ease.

The tables been set,

The eggs cracked, and yet,

The Omlets so frantically cooked,

Don't look, or taste, so good.

 

SAD POPPINS (to the audience)

Shortseller has all the bucks.

Hamlet should stay on the bus.

Ride into the dawn,

As Shortseller's fawn.

Then, what the heck,

Just cash the check. 

He's cute,

But a dispute,

Will turn ugly. 

 

HAMLET OMLET

If I fulfill my grant...as they insist...

My granters will be...mighty pissed.

The study performed

Will earn me their scorn. 

I find it very troublesome.

I fear I'm in...trouble...some...

(Hamlet Omlet wanders off) 

SAD POPPINS (spoken)

Gee. He's so depressed, I'm feeling better.

(looks in another direction, sings)

I see a new group approach.
Should I give them a pass...or a reproach?

They seem a well-dressed bunch.
Are they here...to serve us lunch?
Maybe it's food, but Maybe it's theft.
Should I call the guards, or the Chef?

(a line of people approaches from the right)

FIRST IN LINE

I shall eliminate your confusion.

I lead the European Union.

SAD POPPINS

Your union's a sight.

Are you leading a strike?

SECOND IN LINE (shoving the first)

I'm not second on the ladder!

I am also, the leader, who matters.

SAD POPPINS (warming to the cause)

For better pay! (fist shake)

More holidays!

FIRST IN LINE (to the second)

But she can plainly see

That I am in the lead.

I am, the leading -- leader!

THIRD IN LINE

We are all equals here,

Leading from the rear!

Stop the chatter!

There are...No rungs...On! Our ladder.

SECOND IN LINE

No rungs and what is more --

There's no rug upon our floor.

ALL

Or doormats at our door.

Our scoreboards don't keep score,

We live in -- one great crater!

We won't argue -- who's greater.

THIRD IN LINE

It isn't really news,

That we all lead this crew.

SECOND IN LINE

We're ho's without a pimp.

(points)

Except for him!

FOURTH IN LINE

But I'm a leader, too!

FIRST IN LINE (Pointing at four)

He's got me so confused.

Our Union's been abused!

But we can't show him the door...

So just bury him -- in the moor!

FOURTH IN LINE

That would mean war!

We are leaders all,

Unless...

 Our governments should fall.

ALL (To Sad Poppins)

Our ladder has no rungs.

That song's -- been sung.

We're now having a sale,
On everything -- that's stale.

FIRST IN LINE

And leadership is our loss leader!

FOURTH IN LINE (spoken)

We're a fellowship,

That practices follow-ship.

SAD POPPINS (spoken)

So...you're not on strike?

(Sad Poppins is quite confused and leaves while another group enters)

BBC JOURNALISTS (entering)

The Administration is on the March

From Jumbo Jets, they disembark.

It's like they've emptied Noah's ark.

VARIOUS EU LEADERS
Intelligence is what we need.
So we will hide among the trees
...listen from among the leaves.
Ah, BBC!
Watch those poisonous spiders march.
Report their wicked weaves with snark.

The BBC Journalists go to greet the Americans, chanting "Tarantulas! Tarantula, tarantula -- tarantulas!" as they go.

Scene Three: A Simulated Stimulus

As the PRESIDENTIAL ADVISERS enter they whisper amongst themselves:  "Remember, no arrogance! Those lackeys don't like it / Shush, no condescension, that's worse than arrogance! / We need a new song and dance. / Humble--but with newfound pride!"

Trumpets sound and they sing.

WITH DIPLOMATIC CREEP

PRESIDENTIAL ADVISERS

With Diplomatic Creep,

We stride History's Stage.

So shy and meek,

The World Turns, amazed.

Praise we spread in full

Without a boastful word.

We give credit to the Bull,

And the en-tire herd!

EU LEADERS

Like Mister Micawbers 
And in their Wimpy way;
 They'll borrow ten trillion dollars;
And say, "Some Tues-day, we'll re-pay."

BBC JOURNALISTS

Ta-ran-tulas, are spiders too.

And if they bite, then quickly sue.

Trumpets blare. Enter President Cleave, Sec. of State Tempest Teapot, Timothy Tinsmith, U. S. Journalistic Chorus (they double as backup singers), and the lawyer/lobbyist/activist mob.

US JOURNALISTS (pom-poms shaking)

Ra, ra, ra, ra, ra, ra...

 

PRESIDENT CLEAVE

I! Hail! Those who hail me!

Tell European Nations

Of Power abrogation!

EU LEADERS

War non-participation.

Ty-rants claim I’m a tease

As I implore “believe me, please.”

TEMPEST TEAPOT

Friends, speak of piracey,

And Risks to Navigation--

PRESIDENT CLEAVE (injects)

Have you seen my new Playstation?

BOTH (in harmony)

Mar-ry! Free Enterprise
With Socialism in disguise!

(Timothy Tinsmith carries a large bag of goodies, and croons to the lobbyists)

TIMOTHY TINSMITH 

Our national debt is huge,

It's true, 

Because we're indebted to you.
This debt we amass
'cause the past is an ass --

We owe you,
For the wonderful things you do,
And the horrible things, our nation has done.
Admitting -- is not much fun.

EU LEADERS

Much fun!

Confession is good for the soul.

So I'll say it again, quite slow.

It brings me no joy --
There's no need to be coy.
It makes me so sad...
That my nation's be-en-en-en bad.

EU LEADERS

Been so bad!

(Seems to hear an echo)

As the sins trickle down

From father to son

Our grandkids become...

The wet ones.

EU LEADERS

Grandchildren should not escape,

Their great-granddad's mistake.

TIMOTHY TINSMITH

For the mistakes our dads made,
Our grandchildren must pay.

They're in their playpens,
But The National Debt is on them.

EU LEADERS 

At our banquet, we shall toast,

After we've eaten the roast!

Those babies in their strollers,

The toddlers in their walkers...

The kids con-fined in,

Their little play-pens!

Since all our bills are for them.

TIMOTHY TINSMITH (Dances with the lawyers)

Here's your bail-out! And your stimulus money.

Do as you're told — and you’ll get more, Honey!

Your life preserver, please don’t go under.

For if you perish, you'll drown our thunder.

(To all) 

Piracy, should not be on the sea!

EVERYONE

It's an on-shored industry!

 

TIM (Throwing money to the wind; Cossack dancing)

Vary...fiscal...so-briety...

With a little Spending Spree!

EU LEADERS

Spree, Spree, Spree,

Spree, Spree,

Spree, Spree

Spree, Spre-e-e-e!

ALL ADVISERS (Shushing the crowd)

With Tim-o-thy!

We quietly deplore.

Income from Piracy

On Somalia’s shore.

And what about Kim,
Dear Leader’s Rocket Launch?
That’s why we scolded him
And told him “Lose your paunch.”

BBC JOURNALISTS:

Ta-ran-tulas! Are misunderstood.
Ta-ran-tulas! Do the world much good.
So meek-ah-ly, they point the way
That proud bow, is here to stay!

PRESIDENT CLEAVE (bowing)

As! I! approached King Saud.

I lost a contact lens

That's why I got the bends.

I! Told! Old King Saud,

“King, you better watch your step!”

EU LEADERS

Has he told Iran that yet?

PRESIDENTIAL ADVISERS/BBC JOURNALISTS

Our history is / a tarantula’s bite.

We admit that much / just ain't quite right.

We apologize / for trades in Slaves.

And to all those folks / who hide in caves.

We’re sorry for / the Atom bomb.

What Rock and Roll / has done to song.

We! Hail!
Those who hail Us...

EVERYONE

What's caused all the fuss!

 

END OF ACT ONE

US JOURNALISTS
Ra, ra, ra, ra, ra, ra...

Yes, there's more but I'll spare you (for now).

At first, I was concerned that I gave Art's private island a Private International Airport, but then I realized that playing host to so many Global Warming Conferences required one.

The Prodigals of Penance: Comic Lite-Opera Reality

 The Prodigals of Penance, loosely based on Gilbert and Sullivan's The Pirates of Penzance, takes place during "The Conference to Solve all the World's Problems in One Foul Swipe," which is held on the Private Island of Artful Shortseller, the wealthiest man in the world.

Art is center stage. He performs. The Central Banker Dancing Contortionists accompany him, much to Art's occasional irritation. The tune is modeled on "I Am the Very Model of the Modern Major General."

ART (Starts slow, speeds up)

I am the very model of the Modern Money Manager
I deal with sums, large and small, put into precise integers.
I do well when we race along and when the world is out of gear.
And when you want to leave the market I'm already out of there.

With theorems econometric and a carefully plotted longitude

You'll find I never give a calculated loss much latitude.
A careful study of my ways will show that that's my attitude.
And while I'll never take your money, I could do it for you, too.

Central Bankers (Kick-dancing)

While he'd never take our money he could do it for us, too!
We've learned this from the careful study of his attitude!

When I find bad apples, I don't throw that fruit away!
Why waste those subprime apples if you can make them pay?
You simply take the bad ones and mix them with the good.
In this way, those "bad apples" will sell better than they should!

I move vast sums from sun to sun from nearly half a world away.
I can buy and sell and do a deal at any time during the day.
In matters econometrical, I've created hedge fund spectacles.
Future earnings "theoretical" sound like profits "piratical."

In matters econometrical, he creates hedge fund spectacles.
His profits "theoretical" sound like bounties "piratical."

(Hand-stands lead to Flip-flops)

Before the Banks went in-the-tank, I speculated in the currencies.
I took advantage of Pound flights and Ministerial in-coherencies.
I made a billion, then another, and flew across the sea.
Where I entertained the pleas...of busted brokers on their knees.

I shelter money from tax loads that might seem quite preposterous
You'd think I'd make a payment that is monstrously --

(a bit perplexed)

Monster-us?

(explaining)

But with the politicians that I legally rent

to produce the tax codes that are legally bent --
After "all" that's bought and sold

And every taxing woe:

(With exuberance)

I've piled up wealth untold!

(Pounding Kettledrums that spray green paint)

He shelters money from great -- tax -- loads.

He loans to Politicians that -- he -- knows.
After "all" he's bought and sold,
And even taxes that he's owed:
He's piled up wealth untold.

(As they bang the drums Art calms them. They got green paint in their eyes)

I dabble now in politics as an artist or gourmet,
With the use of sweets; the use of sticks, as a means to prise my way.
I fund foundations -- academic deviations -- a terrific, Scientific, Tidal Wave!
That will sweep away the old "new world" before I'm in the grave.

The voters who agree with me -- are the most perceptive.

Especially those who agree with me -- when I'm at my most deceptive.

And should you disagree with me, others employ invective.

To win arguments with ease, invective is most -- effective.

(As they mop-up the excess green paint)

He dabbles now in politics and funds many foundations.

He does good acts while acting good, to improve his reputation.
He wants a single bundle to contain every nation,
As he promotes a Scientific Tidal Wave -- an academic mutation --
Meant to make the world anew in every permutation.

(explaining to the bankers)

Cryptos sold by kleptos offer money quick,

But Cryptos sold by kleptos carry quite a risk,

When fortunes made of Cryptos

Quickly end up in the crypt.

(spoken)

But trust me, I am a realist, and reality is my game, for...

(does the soft-shoe)

I am the very Model of the Modern Money Manager.
I deal with sums, large and small, placed into distinct integers.

(picking up the pace)

I do well when we race along and when the world is out of gear.
And when you want to leave a market I'm al-ready

Out! Of! Here!

(The Orchestra suddenly goes wild as he dances off-stage with the Central Bankers.)

Scene 2 and 3 can be found here