Below is the first draft of opening dialogue for my next movie, titled (per Ed's idea, kinda) simply "[sic]." Before I give you this opening dialogue, which I wrote during my waterlogged lunch, please be assured that while parts of my plays and films can correctly be construed as vaguely autobiographical, the following should not be. The idea behind it obviously came because it was my birthday today; however, it...oh, y'all are smart, and y'all know I'm not as depressed as the following, but I just wanted to make sure you know for, uh, sure.
To understand the headline to this post, make sure you read what is after the indented text.
[Camera in on man running. Camera moves with the man.] This is Michael. Today, Michael is reasonably happy with his life. Tomorrow, however, Michael will turn 30, and tomorrow Michael will weep. Tomorrow, Michael will look back at the previous thirty years and see a washed-out trail of a life, a life that has impacted no one, confronted no one, interested no one. Tomorrow, Michael will look at who he is today and see that he has violated every moral boundary he has ever set for himself. Tomorrow, Michael will look ahead at the next forty years and see himself marking time in a parade of billions, wasting time until he expires on the same day as 200,000 anonymous souls. Tomorrow, Michael will look at his life after death for God and instead see black upon black upon black. That is tomorrow. And then there is the day after tomorrow, where Michael’s life will change forever in an inexplicable and unbelievable way.
[Cut to black.] This film is not his story.
Okay. That is kind of funny, no? But it needs to be funnier and coolier [sic], which requires the following: What I need is someone to volunteer to (a) translate that into a different language (first choice: French; second choice: someone obscure and cool; third choice: Kim's Spanish) and then (b) read it for me in that language on tape or as an MP3 or whatever. I'll do at least one more draft of this, but I'd like to get my foreign language volunteer set in stone now.
oh so lovingly written by
Matthew |
i sincerely do not know what you are doing here. are you lost? were you
looking for your delicate calico cat, and did you follow her up two flights of stairs
to this room? she is not here. she was here, yes. we gave her a warm bowl of milk, we talked with her about campaign finance reform for a time, and then she bid us good day. i believe she was
going to the post office two blocks down, but i don't quite recall.
for surely you did
not find your way from prinsiana, the least traveled site on
the internet. if you did, though, perhaps you are looking for humor. perhaps you are looking for profundity. perhaps you are looking for answers.
i'm sorry, but you shall go naught-for-three.
