THE BEGINNING OF THE END OF THE REVOLUTION

THE BEGINNING OF THE END OF THE REVOLUTION




There is a person standing to the side prepared to offer and to pour water. There is a small


table and a chair center stage. The first character is already seated as the play starts.



Each speaking character replaces the previous in speaking to the invisible ‘Powers That


Be.” They are five characters playing one. Perhaps they should each be wearing identical


scarfs. One moves right into the seat as the previous character is leaving it. These


transitions should be seamless and as quick as they can be without being sloppy.






[A old man, nervous, and a bit in awe, never making direct eye contact except tentatively and


briefly when he says “THE POWERS THAT BE” and “garner your attention”] Strange that

my voice would come to matter. And now of all moments for it to be called for? I have thought

so often and to such pleasure about the things I would tell the powers that be—THE POWERS

THAT BE. With a deep dose of brown liquor rattling in my fist, I could muse for hours about

what I would do if I just had the opportunity to say something that would reach to your ears or

even do something that would garner your attention. I am fairly certain that it is just dawning on

you that my musing is the musing of many.



(The server comes over to offer water) Yes? (Only just now aware the server is there) Oh no, no

thank you… (The Server turns away) …well, perhaps I will…



[Transition to a confident young woman, a rebel perhaps conscious of not seeming afraid]

I wonder about what amounts to good counsel to you. It can seem to me that you learn the

price of milk on cue before you travel the country, but that its relevance is as abstract as tanks

lined along some river in some hot and dusty OTHER place. Tanks with people milling around

as if looking at or avoiding strange pieces of modern art. Milk prices and tanks. Tanks and

milk prices under the canopy of your imagination…ready plunder for your next self-satisfied

platform.



[Transition to a young boy or girl] I do not mean to sound rude…perhaps I am a bit nervous.

Thank you. (looking over to the server as he/she sips the water nervously and puts the glass back

down).



[Transition to a man with a bandaged eye. The un-bandaged eye is consistently though


not perfectly aimed at a single spot dead center in the audience] (As he begins speaking,

heis theatrically checking pockets, chest pocket first, pockets in jacket second, gives a

knowing “harrumph” when he finds them empty, and takes another drink of water.) Is the

world you inhabit an echo chamber?—I imagine it to be so…full of voices layered upon voices

upon voices upon voices until they are distinguished less by what they are saying than by what

they are wearing…this one in a uniform.. that one in a suit, the next one a strange and poorly

accessorized recent flood victim, the next the hero of a skyscraper fire sporting a charred tan

fire-retardant jacket and the kind of earnestness THE POWERS THAT BE can never have again



and thus will attach to given any chance at all.



[Transition to the scary one …staring straight ahead and perfectly pulled together,


professional, direct, calm… someone you can imagine ordering a water-boarding] (Drinking

water again) So here you are, stuck with me for two minutes, and after so much thought and

preparation (picking a bit of lint from his sleeve)…preparation on my part by the way that was

everything but practical—I can waste the time, I tell you (falsely warm)…after so much thought,

I have a few things to say and important advice to give…



(Coldly and slowly)The chance to be bigger than the moment has passed.



You have, and this might be a strange kind of comfort to you, you have no real choice in what

happens next.



Listen to the voice that matters to you most. FYI…my voice, funny isn’t it (not smiling), my

voice matters to you the most.



Don’t talk. Even if you think it will help…that it can pull things back into control...don’t. DO

NOT TALK.



Try to pretend your story isn’t ending and next, try to accept that it is. It is ending. (Looking at

his or her watch) It is just about ended in fact.



Be prepared for the worst.



(Leaning purposefully forward and slower still) Do- not- think- for- one- minute- that-

this- can’t- really- be- happening- here-. That- this- THAT- THIS- (Clearly angry but

still controlled) can’t- be- happening- to- you.



Curtain