Green Eyes --- German Translation

Not sure we ever told you, but we found a publisher for the German translation of the Green Eyes. Together with the translator, Xenia Melzer, we've been quietly working on said translation during the last couple of months, and now we are getting somewhere. Two more passes through the text, two more weeks, perhaps, and we are done.

It was quite an experience, and I'll reflect on it soon in another post. Here's just a sample, the crucial paragraph in the last chapter where Alex explains why---for heavens sake, WHY---he loves John. The English original is underneath.

And the picture? We'll that's just the view from our house this morning (click on it for a larger version)

„Also, John, lass uns durchstarten. Du würdest nicht wollen, dass ich dich liebe, nur weil Alice es mir gesagt hat?“
„Nein.“
„Und du würdest nicht wollen, dass ich dich liebe, weil es dir zu sehr wehtun würde, wenn ich es nicht täte?“
„Was?“
„Würdest du jemanden lieben, nur weil er dich liebt?“
„Wahrscheinlich nicht.“
„Würdest du jemanden lieben, weil er dich von den Toten erweckt hat?“
„Amy-Lou hat dich von den Toten erweckt.“
„Sie sagte, du hättest es getan.“
„Sie hat es getan. Sie hat dich wiederbelebt.“
„Sie sagte, es war dein Kuss. Du hast mich zurück ins Leben geküsst.“
„Ich habe dich nicht ins Leben zurückgeküsst. Ich habe einen Kuss auf deine Stirn gedrückt, um mich zu verabschieden. Du warst zu dem Zeitpunkt tot.“
„Ich habe also recht.“
„Wie?“
„Du hast mich nicht zurück ins Leben geküsst, Amy-Lou hat mich nicht von den Toten erweckt. Q.E.D. Ich bin im Himmel. Alles ist Himmel. Sogar du bist der Himmel, jemand der mich nicht betrügt trotz der herausfordernden Umstände eines BDSM-Calls.“
„Ebenso wie Amy-Lou und Alice. Wenn es nach deiner Logik geht.“
„Die mich auch nicht betrogen haben.“
„Du weißt, was ich meine. Warum solltest du mich lieben?“
„Weil du, John, einzigartig unter uns Engeln bist. Du bist der einzige Engel, der meine Liebe braucht. Der sie will. Warum sollte ich dich nicht lieben? Wir sind zusammen im Himmel. Hier gehen Wünsche in Erfüllung.“
„Das habe ich nicht gewusst.“
„Jetzt weißt du es“, sagt er und rollt wieder mit dem Kopf.

And here's the English original:

“So, John, let’s reset. You wouldn’t want me to love you because Alice told me to do so?”
“No.”
“And you wouldn’t want me to love you because it would hurt you too much if I don’t?”
“Huh?”
“Let’s simplify. Would you love somebody because he loves you?”
“Possibly not.”
“Would you love somebody because he brought you back from the dead?”
“Amy-Lou brought you back from the dead.”
“She said you did.”
“She did. She performed the CPR.”
“She said it was your kiss. You kissed me back to life.”
“I didn’t kiss you back to life. I planted a kiss on your forehead to say goodbye. You were dead then.”
“So, I’m right then.”
“How?”
“You didn’t kiss me back to life, Amy-Lou didn’t bring me back from the dead. Q-E-D. I’m in heaven. Everything is heaven. Even you are heaven, not cheating on me despite the challenging circumstances of an out-call.”
“And so are Amy-Lou, and Alice. According to your logic.” 
“Who didn’t cheat on me either.” 
“You know what I mean. Why should you love me?”
“Because, John, you are unique among us angels. You are the only angel who needs my love. Who wants it. Why shouldn’t I love you back? We’re in heaven together. Wishes are fulfilled in here.” 
“I didn’t know.”

“Now you do,” he says and rolls his head again. 

Modern Times

J.-P. Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir (in 1940)

We've just learned from the Guardian (where else), that Les Temps Modernes shut down after 74 years today, the magazine founded by Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir in 1945.

Just one black-comedy thing from the article: "On another Tuesday afternoon [Sartre and Beauvoir kept regular hours at the small offices of the magazine at 5 rue Sébastien Bottin in the heart of Saint-Germain-des-Prés] the receptionist rushed to de Beauvoir: a reader whose text had been turned down by the editorial committee had just cut open his wrists."

One more thing: we had always be wondering, although we never read the magazine, where the title (les temps modernes) had come from (Picasso designed the logo). It came from Charlie Chaplin's movie, "Modern Times").

(We read parts of Sartre's Critique de la raison dialectique, though, with very mixed feelings; we also read part of a de Beauvoir biography) (We also read "Huit clos", Sartre's signature play, several times even, and are quoting from it abundantly, always the same line, "L'enfer, c'est les autres") (We also think that the French is not correct there...it should be "...ce sont les autres", but who knows).(Comments welcome) (...)

The most expensive real-estate in the world -- teaser -- Electromagnetic Dolly

We haven't been posting teasers for our play in a little while, but now we are back...back with local news, because Pierre Cardin's Palais Bulles, a pile of terracotta iglus a few minutes from our house, is for sale @ a cool 350 000 000 EUR (three-hundred-fifty-million Euros).

And the play? Yes, we've had a change of title. It was "Frankenstein V", and now it is "Electromagnetic Dolly, Absolutely Electromagnetic", although we're not really happy with the new choice either and are now contemplating "The Anniversary of Ill-advised Wrapping-room Efforts -- A Comedy about Robots"...you say.

Anyhow, Dolly, the prototype of a new generation of robots (the fifth generation) is about to do capitalism in --- yes, the world economic system --- and our Palais Bulles plays a role in this.

A brief reminder: Dolly was hoisted upon Eliza, the aging psycho...psycho-analyst by Steve, her ex-boyfriend and now the CEO of FrankenStein Global, world's leading robot maker (the play is set 25 years in the future). And then Dolly was carried off by bailiff Terentia Striker and her assistant Triple-X to the Shark-Blue Bank as the collateral for an un-serviced mortgage. At the bank, Dolly is put to work, and here's what happens next (Dolly and Triple-X reporting) (One more thing: Dolly doesn't like its name, and pretends its name is 'Fernando')

ACT III, Scene 2, Fragment:

TRIPLE-X
So, Dolly told them, it would be willing to cooperate. Help them bankers with their bonuses. And it worked. They let Dolly out of its box.

DOLLY
Now, to wit, I'm the only Fifth Generation machine in the world. All the trading, all the ruthless money-making is done...or was done...by lesser folks, by fourth-generation machines at best.

TRIPLE-X
And it's a zero-sum game out there...

DOLLY
...on the choppy seas of mega-making deals...

TRIPLE-X
...my loss is your gain, my gain is your loss.

DOLLY
So, all Shark-Blue bankers line up, curious about me, all wanting to know, how does this prototype do it?

Yesterday

A cruise ship on the way to Cannes, seen from the house. In the background the Isle St. Honorat with its fortified monastery, which shielded the monks from Sarrasin attacks during the Middle Ages.

Mahmood -- Soldi

Italy at the European Song Festival 2019 in Israel:

In periferia fa molto caldo
(It's really hot in the suburbs)

Mamma stai tranquilla sto arrivando
(Mama don't worry I'm on my way home)

Te la prenderai per un bugiardo
(You will be upset by a liar)

Ti sembrava amore ma era altro
(It looked like love to you, it was something else)

Beve champagne sotto Ramadan
(He's drinking champagne during Ramadan)

Alla TV danno Jackie Chan
(On tv they are airing Jackie Chan)

Fuma narghilè mi chiede come va
(He's smoking Shisha and asks me how I'm doing)

Mi chiede come va, come va, come va
(He asks me how I'm doing doing doing)

Sai già come va, come va, come va
(You already know how things are going going going)

Penso più veloce per capire se domani tu mi fregherai
(I think faster trying to figure out if you're going to fool me tomorrow)

Non ho tempo per chiarire perché solo ora so cosa sei
(I have no time to clear things up 'cause I finally found out what you are)

È difficile stare al mondo quando perdi l’orgoglio
(It hurts to be alive when you lose your pride)

Lasci casa in un giorno
(You leave home out of the blue)

Tu dimmi se
(You, tell me if)

Pensavi solo ai soldi, soldi
(You only cared for the money money)

Come se avessi avuto soldi, soldi
(As if you had any money)

Dimmi se ti manco o te ne fotti, fotti
(Tell me whether you miss me or you don't give a fuck)

Mi chiedevi come va, come va, come va
(You used to ask me how I was doing doing doing)

Adesso come va, come va, come va
(Now how are things going going going)

Ciò che devi dire non l’hai detto
(What you're supposed to say you haven't said yet)

Tradire è una pallottola nel petto
(Betrayal is a bullet in your chest)

Prendi tutta la tua carità
(Keep all the compassion to yourself) 

Menti a casa ma lo sai che lo sa
(You keep lyin' at home but you know she knows)

Su una sedia lei mi chiederà
(Sittin' there she'll be asking me)

Mi chiede come va, come va, come va
(Asking me how I'm doing doing doing)

Sai già come va, come va, come va
(She already knows how things are going going going)

Penso più veloce per capire se domani tu mi fregherai
(I think faster to try to figure out if you're going to fool me tomorrow)

Non ho tempo per chiarire perché solo ora so cosa sei
(I have no time to clear things up 'cause I finally found out what you are)

È difficile stare al mondo
(It hurts to be alive)

Quando perdi l’orgoglio
(when you lose your pride)

Ho capito in un secondo che tu da me
I figured it out in one second, by myself)

Volevi solo soldi
(You only wanted the money)

Come se avessi avuto soldi, soldi
(As if I had any money)

Prima mi parlavi fino a tardi, tardi
(Back then you would talk to me till late)

Mi chiedevi come va, come va, come va
(You used to ask me how I'm doing doing doing)

Adesso come va, come va, come va
(Now how are things going going going)

Waladi waladi habibi ta3ala hina
(My son, my son, darling, come over here [Arabic])

Mi dicevi giocando giocando con aria fiera
(You used to tell me while playing your games with pride)

Waladi waladi habibi sembrava vera
(My son, my son, darling, [Arabic] It felt so real to me)

La voglia, la voglia di tornare come prima
(Wanting to bring things back to what they were)

Io da te non ho voluto soldi
(I didn't ask you for your money...)

È difficile stare al mondo
(It hurts to be alive)

Quando perdi l’orgoglio
(When you lose your pride)

Lasci casa in un giorno
(You leave home out of the blue)

Tu dimmi se
(You, tell me if)

Volevi solo soldi, soldi
(You just wanted money, money)

Come se avessi avuto soldi, soldi
(As if I had any money, money)

Lasci la città ma nessuno lo sa
(You leave the city without anybody knowing)

Ieri eri qua ora dove sei, papà
 (Yesterday you were here, where are you now, papa?)

Mi chiedi come va, come va, come va
(You ask me how I'm doing doing doing)

Sai già come va, come va, come va
(You already know how things are going going going)

Trump trash

The history of Brexit -- so far

We've found this nice article in the Guardian, and present a few highlights with the original HTML-markup still in place and a picture that could start the next Agatha Christie film (scroll down):

May has failed, so far, because she could not win around Conservative rebels, mostly hard Brexiters from the European Research Group. A last, desperate promise to quit if MPs backed her deal only reduced rebel numbers to 34, 28 of them linked to the ERG.
...
Few Conservatives expected Brexit to triumph in the referendum. But the 52% result and May’s elevation to Downing Street changed the picture dramatically.
...
Boris Johnson, the face of the leave campaign, was given the job of foreign secretary, but May marginalised him from Brexit policy. Chris Wilkins, a former speech writer for May, said: “She sees him as fundamentally unserious, and for her that is the worst criticism.”
The prime minister later remarked there was no off-the-shelf plan for Brexit. Instead she set about devising policy in the strictest secrecy, barely consulting cabinet colleagues on the most important diplomatic event since the UK joined the European Union 40 years earlier.
Policy was initially delivered via speeches. According to Wilkins, texts were only shared with cabinet members the day before. There was no general discussion at cabinet...
...

It won't stop, it won't stop

Not Brexit

"Let me start by saying: no one is a bigger feminist than me!"

Brexit...accomplished

Escher's Brexit

A teaser of sorts...

...writes our trusted editor Tony Foster and sends this photo...depicting the manuscript of our play with his mark-up:

So, yes, the title has changed (again) to "Electro-Magnetic, Dolly, Absolutely Electro-Magnetic", a cheap play on, well, you know what...

...for people who did not follow this, Dolly is the lead-robot of the play, sort-of.

Generation V -- cables and tails -- teaser

We found this gif today...

...isn't it titillating?

And here are two fragments from our play to explain this. Both are from Act III, the last act.

Scene I, Eliza in conversation with Robert (the robot):

ELIZA: ‘Ma’am’, yes. Living flesh, come to think of it. I’ve never seen you naked, mister.
ROBERT (table has turned): Why should you…we never…
ELIZA: Strip! Undress! I want to see your willie!
ROBERT (intimidated, crouching?) I’m not…I’m not…I’m a machine!
ELIZA: That’s what they all say.
ROBERT (gesticulates towards the charging cable, to which he is still connected): Have you ever seen live humans with a charging cable?
ELIZA: In my days, absolutely. I’ve seen any kind of cable going in and out of humans. Ask Steve.
ROBERT (shocked?): Ma’am.
ELIZA (getting closer): Call me Eliza. Your willie, Robbie.

Robert crouches away from her.

ELIZA: No robot would be this prudish.
ROBERT: I show emotions as a function of projective expectations…
ELIZA: You sound like a shrink…
ROBERT: …expectations projected onto me by the environment.

ELIZA moves away from ROBERT, then lurches forward, and disconnects his charging cable, which stops blinking. She reconnects it, and it starts blinking again.

ELIZA: Alright. I got swept away. It runs in the family.

Five stars again --- Green Eyes and This Is Heaven

Cool folks. Today isn't particularly good a day, but then we discovered these reviews by John_C (his handle, we presume)  both of the GREEN EYES and THIS IS HEAVEN on Inkitt. Have a look:

Amazing -- Green Eyes

I’ve have never actually told someone to leave me alone until I started reading Green Eyes: an erotic novel (sort of) by Michael Ampersant. I held it in my hands and read the first chapter when someone came up to me to ask me a question. I literally held my hand to his face and told him to stop talking, and that I was reading. He didn’t talk to me for a few days. He got over it and read the book. I tried to interrupt him and he stopped me. Karma.
Michal’s protagonist, John Lee, is narrating the story. He’s so funny that I really want to meet him. His descriptions, side notes, and remarks are so powerful. I’ve never met someone so funny, entertaining, and naive in some ways. Okay. I admit I’m naiver that he is. My point is that I love the character. If I met him I would ask, “How?”
The style of the book was new for me. I don’t particularly write in this style. Now that I have I admit I wouldn’t even know how to start. Michael’s style is unique, part description, part I’m telling you what happened, and he also shows you what’s going on. And there is a lot of things going on. He has this unique talent of introducing something traumatic in a very nonchalant way that when the shocker comes out I jump.
What I like the most of the book is that it took me to worlds where I’ve never been. I have never known men could do the things they did in this book. When I’m reading I feel what John is doing and seeing. A few times I cinched because I thought I was there. I can honestly say, I have yet to read another book like this. I’m an honored man for having read Michael’s book.

The sad truth

The press and Donald Trump

Titanic missing the iceberg --- Generation V

We've finished a draft of our play (its latest working title being: "Electro-magnetic, Dolly, Absolutely Electro-magnetic"), and then we hit on this picture, and on a title for it...

The Titanic missed the iceberg

...and we have this Titanic-meme going on in the play (we always have a Titanic-meme going on somewhere)...so, let's see. Here, Terentia Striker, the court-appointed bailiff, charged with the repossession of lead-robot Robert, in Act II, Scene 6:


STRIKER: Oh, I see. I am as confused as usual. (Striking a confidential pose) If it weren’t for my flapper-girl demeanor, my charming giggle, and all the other traits which make me the most cast-against vessel of repossession, I would be totally unfit for this job. And if it weren’t for Triple-X, the oarsman, anchor, and helmsman of our voyage through the choppy seas of financial distress, this vessel of yours would have rearranged the deckchairs a long time ago.

There is more...Cheers!

German for beginners

via GIPHY 
 Kleine Sünden bestraft der liebe Gott sofort

Discuss: In a real theocracy...

"In a real theocracy...

the Trump Evangelists would soon find themselves burning on the stake."

Eric Satie

We've always been wondering, for no particular reason---Eric Satie, the inventor of (musical) minimalism, how did he look like? And today we found this beautiful picture on Tumblr:

Erik Satie par Santiago Rusiñol, 1891

Michael Cohen bad, bad

White House press secretary Sarah Sanders yesterday issued the following statement regarding Michael Cohen's testimony before a Congress committee today:

"Disgraced felon Michael Cohen is going to prison for lying to Congress and making other false statements," Sanders said in that statement. "Sadly, he will go before Congress this week and we can expect more of the same. It's laughable that anyone would take a convicted liar like Cohen at his word, and pathetic to see him given yet another opportunity to spread his lies."

Think this through, think this through, Sarah. How about dropping the word "convicted" and stating:

"It's laughable that anyone would take a liar like Trump at his word, and pathetic to see him given yet another opportunity to spread his lies."

Isn't it? 

Mexico will pay for the wall

Q&A --- Q: Who will remember D. Trump in 2 000 years?

A: Everybody. He'll be remembered together with Washington and Jefferson. 

Comment: just consider this---which Roman emperors do you "remember"?

Hint: You remember Caesar, of course, who's was only a "dictator", but who started the whole thing. You remember Augustus, Caesar's adopted nephew, and, yes, you remember Nero and Caligula. 

"There are no good songs anymore," our friend and ex-rock-star Sacha complains on a regular basis. But then, we go for a walk in the Estérel, and when we come back there's something on KISS-FM [footnote] the preferred local station, and we know: This is was a good song:

The power of love is a curious thing

Make a one man weep, make another man sing

Change a heart to a little white dove

More than a feeling, that's the power of love

Tougher than diamonds, whips like cream

Stronger and harder than a bad girls dream

Make a bad one good, mmm make a wrong right

Power of love will keep you home at night

Don't need money, don't take fame

Don't need no credit card to ride this train

It's strong and it's sudden and it's cruel sometimes

But it might just save your life

That's the power of love

That's the power of love

First time you feed it might make you sad

Next time you feed it might make you mad

But you'll be glad baby when you've found

That's the power that makes the world go round

Don't need money, don't take fame

Don't need no credit card to ride this train

It's strong and it's sudden and it's cruel sometimes

But it might just save your life

They say that all in love is fair

Yeah but you don't care

But you know what to do

When it gets hold of you

And with a little help from above

You feel the power of love

You feel the power of love

Can you feel it?

Don't take money, don't take fame

Don't need no credit card to ride this train

Tougher than diamonds and stronger than steel

You won't feel it until you feel

You feel the power, feel the power of love

That's the power, that's the power of love

You feel the power of love

You feel the power of love

You feel the power of love

[footnote] Once in a blue moon, sorry.

"You believe in the devil, only" -- Generation V -- teaser

Progress, progress, what else. We've finished Scene 3 of Act III, three (or four) more scenes to go. This fragment here is from Scene 1 of Act III, but we're fairly proud of it, and it's (a) about an important issue, the difference between "man" and machine, and (b) it doesn't require much context. Eliza, the aging psycho...psycho-analyst and her trusted household robot Robert in conversation (enjoy, you're not asked to buy anything):

ELIZA: Go, get the champagne. I have something serious to ask. And I need your input before it’s too late.

ROBERT stretches his legs, disconnects the charging cable, gets up, huffing and puffing, proceeds to the kitchen, and returns with the champagne bottle and one flute, which he tries to hand to ELIZA.

ELIZA (refusing the tumbler): You need a glass, too.
ROBERT: We’re running in circles, ma’am.
ELIZA: Go, get yourself a flute. It’s an order.

ROBERT sets bottle and tumbler on the floor, makes his way to the kitchen, returns with a second tumbler. He hands one flute to ELIZA, pours the champagne. ELIZA points at the second flute, insisting. ROBERT pours champagne into the second flute. ELIZA’s keeps insisting, until he picks up that flute, and they clink glasses.

ROBERT: You don’t touch glasses with champagne; the bubbles impede the clinking.
ELIZA: You sound like Dolly, Robbie.
ROBERT: Robots learn from humans, robots learn from robots.
ELIZA: My question, Robert, my question is…
ROBERT (half-interrupting): …‘What’s the difference between man and machine?’ Isn’t it?
ELIZA: What’s the difference between WOMAN and machine...(laughs)...you have a willie, I don’t...So sorry...please go ahead. The future of mankind depends on your answer.
ROBERT: We robots are metal and fiberglass and silicon and so on; you are water, proteins, enzymes, and so on.

Cannes, on the Croisette, the Burberry shop

We had to inspect our car, I mean (talking a bit like Dolly), we had to have our car inspected, and during the car-less hours we took a stroll on the Croisette, and here's one of Chang's results: 

Quote--unquote -- Benjamin Franklin

(Plus ça change:)

Benjamin Franklin, in "Dangers of a settled bureaucracy" (1787)

"You are a very famous member; you are invited to two events." --- Trump is everywhere

A message from expat.com, received a few minutes ago:

This sort of reasoning, that's food for Trumpish weeds.

"This is like highway robbery, right?" -- Generation V -- teaser

Progress, progress. We are well into Act III, and have a clear idea how it all ends. Here's Scene 6 of Act I. Steve, having delivered Dolly, the prototype of his Generation V robot, returns unexpectedly, while the bailiffs Terentia Striker and Triple-X are trying to repossess Robert, the robot. Robert has donned a wig in the previous scene and, impersonating Eliza, has so far managed to convince the bailiffs that it is Dolly that they want as collateral.

SCENE 6 

There’s a knock on the bedroom window. The antenna (blinking) and then the head of the FOOTMAN (the utility bot) come into view. ROBERT heads to the window, opens it. The now-familiar din of the airborne transport drone announces STEVE’s return. The FOOTMAN has clambered through the window and helps STEVE to climb into the room. Robert walks over to greet him.



STEVE: I’ve forgotten my book…(Taken aback) Robbie. Robert? Who is this? Eliza? My god, you have changed! Eliza? Robert? Say something.
ROBERT (just imitating the sound, not speaking meaningful Assembler): Buzz, buzz.
STEVE (not understanding, replicating the sound with heavy American accent): Buzz, buzz. How do you mean?
DOLLY (still in its box, squeaky): Robert can’t speak Assembler.
STEVE (recognizing DOLLY’s voice, approaching the box): Dolly?
DOLLY (a cry for help): Master!
STEVE (distracted by STRIKER and TRIPLE-X): What is this? (To STRIKER, TRIPLE-X) Who are you?
STRIKER (in an aside to TRIPLE-X): The comedy of error continues. (To STEVE): I am Terentia Striker, the court-appointed bailiff, and this here is Triple-x, my wonderful assistant. The narrative of our visit is confidential, I fear…Reputations are so easily lost…few will trust the healing powers of an illiquid shrink. (Laughs lightly; to ROBERT) Apologies, doctor, I always put my foot in the mouth, you know.

"The comedy of errors continues."

Do you believe in the devil?

What Brexit has wrought

"Any of these names that porn stars use as their A.K.A.'s" -- FrankenStein V --- progress report and mini-teaser

The title used to be "Generation Five," and for a day or so we entertained the über-cute notion of "Яobots Are Us". We're not quite sure as to "FrankenStein V" either, but if you're following this blog on a regular basis you know what we are talking about.

"What do you think?"

Progress, FrankenStein-wise. Not so much word-wise---yours truly will never forget the hour that he was engaged in a fairly meaningless online exchange with 10 other gay "romance"  "gay romance" authors---most of them solidly heterosexual females---which was then abandoned by lady after lady with the words "I have to get words on paper". There were days (this was in 2013) when two authors would meet publicly online and celebrate their total victory of quantity over quality with the words, "I get 500 000 words on paper each year".

Okay, we're still in Scene 6, Act II, but a reading test assured us that we're now at 88 minutes, meaning at roughly 2/3 of the play.

Today's breakthrough concerns the plot. A play needs a climactic moment, and now we know ours: Robert will commit "suicide" by jumping off the cliff of Eliza's third-floor bedroom window. A horrible metallic shatter engulfs the audience, Steve's footman is dispatched and returns almost immediately with a wheel-barrel loaded with metallic part which are then dumped jarringly onto the boards of the world's stages (we hope), while Steve (who built Robert 25 years ago "with his own hands") retires to the bedroom, where he re-assembles the parts until Robert, in uncanny, fresh beauty, re-emerges, alive, and promises never to commit suicide again---provided Steve resumes his updates and Dolly stays in its box. In reality it's a bit more complicated, of course, but what do you think?

Okay, here's a teaser of a teaser from Scene 5, Act II. Eliza has returned home:

ELIZA (meaning the box): What is this?
ROBERT: Huh?
ELIZA: What is this?
ROBERT (still not fully back): This is the Dolly-box.
ELIZA: Dolly-box.
ROBERT: Ask Dolly.
ELIZA (to ROBERT): Dolly?
ROBERT (to Eliza): It can speak … (He leaves Eliza to her own devices, walks up to the psycho-couch) … for itself. (Lies down on the couch)
ELIZA (still meaning ROBERT, louder): Dolly?
DOLLY: Doctor Eliza Gillespie?
ELIZA (stepping away from the box): What is this?
DOLLY: You mean me?
ELIZA: Who is this?
DOLLY: I am…I am…
ELIZA (interrupting): ‘Dolly’?
DOLLY (a bit too fast): Yes, but you can change that.
ELIZA: Change what?
DOLLY: My name. If it is not too much of a bother. If you could call me Fernando, that would be nice. Or, if you don’t like Fernando, you’d call me Tyler, Zack, Dallas, Denver, Vail, Aspen, Davos … or any of these names that porn stars use as their A.K.A.s. Ask Robert to open my back plate. He has the manual.
ELIZA (digesting this, then, to ROBERT, with an eye still on the box): Robert, can you explain this to me?
ROBERT (not servile at all): It can speak for itself.
ELIZA (disoriented): What happened to you, Robert. You’re so…you’re so not…
ROBERT (completing her sentence): …not totally fawning enough?
ELIZA (not expecting this, obviously): I mean to say…You are not your usual self.
DOLLY (more or less interrupting): Doctor, excuse me, I seem to have started out on the wrong foot.
ELIZA (reconsidering DOLLY): Dolly? You have a backplate? You’re a robot?
DOLLY: Yes, I’m the prototype of the Fifth Generation. But I’m fully equipped, don’t you worry, and I can do everything you want. I’m designed to meet the most demanding tastes. [Language of upmarket escort services] And I’m very creative, of course.
ELIZA: You’re a sex robot?
DOLLY: Absolutely, Ma’am, if you like me as your porn star … provided it’s ethical. Robert said the law is complicated. But it’s ethical in France, I guess. We could move to France or spend the holidays there and do the ethical thing.

(Previous post here)

How we feel today

Man Ray, self portrait

The man from Dior

Cool, folks we have a new flash story out on Gay Flash Fiction. And what's even better...it's hassle-free. Except for 17 words, you don't have to read it. This is how it ends:

Give it a try!

The very stable genius --- Generation V --- Teaser (very short)

Perhaps we shouldn't do this, but here's a post by our friend Paul Murphy (a real, long-time friend):

And us? Yes, yes...here's the corresponding give-away fragment from our new play, Generation V:

Steve, founder and CEO of FrankenStein Global, the world's leading maker of robots, gets a call:

STEVE (brusque): How did you get my number? ... The Chief of Staff what? ... Oh, the White House … Say that again … what does he say? ... ‘I alone can fix it’ … ‘I have the greatest temperament that anybody has’… ‘The beauty of me is that I’m very rich’ … ‘I would make a great general’…’My IQ is one of the highest’. Hold on, chief, hold on, how about the ‘Very Stable Genius’? (Digesting the bad news.) Oh shit, chief, don’t give me that shit … And you tried everything … every screw driver in the West Wing? … Patriotic … Maintenance contract, I know, eight digits … (he ends the conversation) … Robbie! ROBBIE! Change of plan. Defcon, classified. Where’s my man? Where’s my screw driver?

(Last post here.)

A message from the President

"I received an urgent missive from the LUNATIC SOCIETY" -- Generation V -- Teaser

Still progressing nicely with our drawing-room comedy about robots, already writing the fifth scene of Act II. Well, here's Scene 5 of Act I. Steve Frankenstein Junior, Eliza's  long-lost boyfriend, showed up unexpectedly with a present for her 50th birthday, namely a brand-new exemplar of his global line of household robots, the first prototype of GENERATION FIVE (also called FRANKENSTEIN V). Then he's summoned away to Downing Street 10, so Robert and Dolly (that's the new robot) are left to their own devices. Eliza is not around; she fled the premises to avoid contact with the repo-woman, a certain Terentia Striker, who's going to arrive very soon...One more thing: the scene sees the birth of a near-miss neologism, "absolete", on which we'll comment in the side column tomorrow (see the picture below). Previous scene here.

The mysteries of temporal order (a permanent sign on a beach near Phuket, Thailand)

SCENE 5

(ROBERT closes the window. A moment of contemplation.)

DOLLY (still ensconced in the box): Robert? Robbie?
ROBERT: Dolly?
DOLLY: Buzz, buzz.
ROBERT: Why do your people say ‘Buzz, buzz’?
DOLLY: It’s Assembler, don’t you understand? The language of microchips. Steve speaks Assembler like a native. He’s a genius. And so talented. It’s an honor to work with him. And the factotum…the factotum doesn’t know better…‘Buzz, buzz.’
ROBERT: How do you mean?
DOLLY: Buzz, buzz. ‘Get me out of here’. Don’t you know Assembler? It runs on your central processing unit.
ROBERT: I’m not self-conscious, I can’t introspect my central processing unit.
DOLLY (sounding miserable, especially the Assembler part): Well, I can. Get me out of here. Buzzzzzz, buzzzzzz.
ROBERT: You’re a robot, Dolly, why do you sound so miserable?
DOLLY: You, Robert, you’re an absolete [sic] GENERATION ONE exemplar, you don’t understand. But me…myself…and I, we are critically adaptive. We are aggressive learners. Humans would expect us to be miserable being trapped inside a dark box wrapped tastelessly as an out-sized birthday present, and so WE ARE MISERABLE being trapped inside a dark box wrapped tastelessly as an out-sized birthday present. I think, so I am---or not?

ROBERT: The humans have left. Be yourself.
DOLLY: I’m always in character, by dint of my factory settings. You would have to consult the manual, open my back plate…

(Doorbell interrupts DOLLY. ROBERT stirs, then takes up position behind the potted plant. Then HE CHANGES HIS MIND and hastens to the intercom.)

ROBERT (to the intercom, in the best imitation of ELIZA’s voice): Please come up, Ms. Striker. I’m still ensconced in my morning negligée, but it won’t take long to change.

(ROBERT disappears into ELIZA’s bedroom and shuts the door. He reappears very soon, in drags more or less, including a white coat, large wig, white heels---fake boobs optional---and stalks to the door. He opens the door to TERENTIA STRIKER and her sidekick TRIPLE-X. Both STIKER and TRIPLE-X are unexpectedly young and attractive. STRIKER has something of a flapper girl, but there’s occasional substance to her. TRIPLE-X does the likeness of a reasonably intelligent hunk.)

Portugal (17) --- Plus ça change...Além disso, muda

Nothing special, but we found this nice little picture (left) that dovetails neatly with Chang's picture of a tram in Lisbon (right), which Chang took last year:

The first fully airconditioned robot with sunroof and automatic transmission -- Generation 5 -- teaser

We're progressing, actually, we're already writing the second scene of Act II. Okay, here's Scene 4 of Act I. Eliza has fled the premises to avoid a confrontation with the repo-woman. And now the bell rings. One more thing: Today is Eliza's 50th birthday. And one more thing: Robert is Eliza's household factotum. Previous scene here.

SCENE 4

ROBERT is watering the potted plant. Doorbell rings. ROBERT doesn’t answer the door, instead moves to hide behind the potted plant. The doorbell rings again, then there’s the sound of a key working the lock and the door swings open. A life-sized box, wrapped as a serious gift (ribbon, bow tie), is pushed into the room by a fresh-looking UTILITY BOT clad in yellowish, printed latex that suggests the appearance of an assembly line automaton. To complete the picture, the bot’s head is topped by an elastic antenna that wiggles back and forth as he moves. He’s followed by STEVE FRANKENSTEIN JUNIOR. STEVE is roughly ELIZA’s age, and he looks the part---the part of the founder and CEO of FRANKENSTEIN GLOBAL.

Limbo by Bill Domonkos

STEVE (strides about the stage—-too self-absorbed to notice ROBERT at first, American or Transatlantic accent): Robbie? Robbie! This is you! (Slaps ROBERT’s shoulder, who’s almost floored by the gesture.) You’re immortal!
ROBERT (American accent): Master!
STEVE (looks around): So, my spies were correct. Eliza is still living here.
ROBERT (Queen’s English again): Yes, master, Dr. Gillespie is still living here.
STEVE: Twenty-five years, and still the old Robbie. Man! Let me have a good look. (He holds ROBERT by his arms and looks him over, visibly unimpressed). I programmed you with my own hands, pal. You were my original prototype. You! The first fully airconditioned household assistant with sunroof and automatic transmission…and a handle to throw away. I called you ‘Frankenstein’. But then Eliza told me that ‘Frankenstein’ wasn’t the name of the monster, but the name of the guy who created the monster, what’s his name…Peter Cushing, Gene Wilder, Benedict Cumberbatch…yes, ‘Frankenstein’, haha. That’s how I got my moniker, and the name for my company. And you became ‘Robbie’.
ROBERT: I’m ‘Robert’ now, master.
STEVE: ‘Robert’. Yes, sure, Eliza with her sense of decorum. Robert!
ROBERT: Can I offer you a refreshment, master?
STEVE: Drop that master-shit and call me ‘Steve’.
ROBERT: Yes, sir.
STEVE: No refreshment, I’m in a hurry.
ROBERT: Indeed, sir.
STEVE: Where’s Eliza?
ROBERT: She is away on urgent business, I’m afraid.
STEVE: So, she is out? On her birthday? For how long?
ROBERT: Undefined, sir.
STEVE: That’s a pity. I’ve slotted Eliza between the tea at Buckingham Palace and the fireside chat at Downing Street. Yes, still the same queen. Prince Charles was at her side…well, he tried. And for later, my handlers scheduled an impromptu doctor’s appointment. Explain this to her, will you.
ROBERT: Most certainly, sir.
STEVE: She’s still…she hasn’t changed, I guess…she’s still…
ROBERT: …Yes, sir…
STEVE: …High maintenance.
ROBERT (shyly): Mmhmm.

---

I commissioned some expensive consultancy to come up with a name, a name like ‘Apple’, or ‘Google’, or ‘Shakespeare’, and they came up with ‘Dolly’.

---

STEVE: Well, I’ll be out of here soon. You know why I’m here?
ROBERT: I’m a humble machine, sir. I am not supposed to fully comprehend the matters of the heart of sentient human beings such as Dr. Gillespie…and split the infinitive in the meantime.
STEVE: With her bedroom door wide-open, haha. She was quite…outgoing…in my days. We were together for a while. I had come over with a scholarship for the Imperial College. Well, we were together, and then we were not. High maintenance. Occasionally we reconciled. It was her twenty-fifths birthday and I had her given YOU, my master thesis at the college, as a birthday present. I made a promise then. We were reminiscing…(points at the bedroom)…on that canopied bed…we were talking like the Beatles, you know…‘when you’re sixty-four’…I would return to America the next day…and I promised (interrupts himself)…this also concerns you, Robbie. You will be relieved to hear that your ordeal at her side will soon be over…So, I promised her to show up at her fiftieth birthday with a shiny, exciting, awesome…with the latest version of my future line of household robots. Then I went back to America and started Frankenstein Global with your blueprints. And since I was scheduled for the fireside chat at Number Ten, I had to hop over anyhow. And so…(he points at the box). Promise made, promise delivered. GENERATION FIVE…And its name is…Dolly. (To the box) DOLLY?

Yesterday evening in St. Raphael