Reinaldo Arenas:
Walking along streets that collapse from crumbling sewers. Past buildings that you jump to avoid because they will fall on you. Past grim faces that size you up and sentence you. Past closed shops, closed markets, closed cinemas, closed parks, closed cafes. Sometimes showing dusty signs, justifcations: "CLOSED FOR RENOVATION," "CLOSED FOR REPAIRS." What kind of repairs? When will these so-called renovations be finished? When at last will they begin? Closed... closed... closed... everything closed. I arrive, open the countless padlocks and run up the temporary stairs. There she is, waiting for me. I pull off the cover, and stare at her dusty, cold shape I clean of fthe dust and caress her. With my hand, delicately, I wipe clean her back, her base and her sides. Infront of her, I feel desperate and happy. I run my fingers over her keyboard and suddenly it all starts up. With a tinkling sound the music begins, little by little, then faster; now full speed. Walls, trees, streets, cathedrals, faces and beaches. Cells, mini- cells, huge cells. Starry nights, bare feet, pines, clouds. Hundreds, thousands, millions of parrots. A stool, a climbing plant, they all answer my call, all come to me. The walls recede, the roof vanishes, and you float quite naturally. You float uprooted, dragged off, lfited high. Transported, immortalized, saved. Thanks to that subtle, continuous rhythm, that music, that incessant tap-tap.
[discussing Lars' music video]
Lars:
No, no, no, cut, cut.
Lars' agent:
What's the problem?
Lars:
Well, the problem is you can't fight off an army of blood-thirsty Vikings with a shenai, it's illogical.
Lars' agent:
No, no, see, you're lulling them into submission with the music. See, that's the whole point of the song, really, mystic surrender. [the Viking is covering his ears in agony]
Lars:
You don't think he looks like he hates the music?
Sin LaSalle:
Have you lost your mind? I mean, how is it that you can disrespect a mans ethnicity when you know we've influenced nearly every facet of white America... from our music to our style of dress. Not to mention your basic imitation of our sense of cool; walk, talk, dress, mannerisms... we enrich your very existence, all the while contributing to the gross national product through our achievements in corporate America. It's these conceits that comfort me when I am faced with the ignorant, cowardly, bitter and bigoted, who *have* no talent, no guts? people like you who desecrate things they don't understand when the truth is - you should say thank-you, man? and go on about your way. But apparently you are incapable of doing that! So... [shoots his gun]
Sin LaSalle:
... and don't tell me to be cool. I *am* cool!
Oogie Boogie Man:
Oh, the sound of rolling dice to me is music in the air, / 'cause I'm a gambling Boogie Man, although I don't play fair. / It's much more fun, I must confess, with lives on the line. / Not mine, of course, but yours, old boy, / now, that'll be just fine.
Elwood Blues:
[addressing the rest if the band] You may go if you wish. But remember this: walk away now and you walk away from your crafts, your skills, your vocations; leaving the next generation with nothing but recycled, digitally-sampled techno-grooves, quasi-synth rhythms, pseudo-songs of violence-laden gangsta-rap, acid pop, and simpering, saccharine, soulless slush. Depart now and you forever separate yourselves from the vital American legacies of Robert Johnson, Muddy Waters, Willie Dixon, Jimmy Reed, Memphis Slim, Blind Boy Fuller, Louie Jordon, Little Walter, Big Walter, Sonnyboy Williamson I and II, Otis Redding, Jackie Wilson, Elvis Presley, Lieber and Stoller, and Robert K. Weiss.
Donald "Duck" Dunn:
Who is Robert K. Weiss? [the rest of the band shrug]
Elwood Blues:
Turn your backs now and you snuff out the fragile candles of Blues, R&B and Soul, and when those flames flicker and expire, the light of the world is extinguished because the music which has moved mankind through seven decades leading to the millennium will whither and die on the vine of abandonment and neglect. [he walks off, followed by Buster, Mack and then the rest of the band]
Bailiff:
Hear ye, hear ye! All those with business before this court, step forward and ye shall be heard. [Mentok's theme music starts up]
Bailiff:
The right honorable Mentok presiding.
Mentok:
[emerging from a purple cloud] Was I announced? [Bailiff nods]
Mentok:
And now! Kicking ass, and taking minds! *Mentok! The Mindtaker!* [music abruptly cuts dead]
Mentok:
Or was it the other one; the, uh, "Now presiding," blah-de-blah-de-blah-de-blah...?
Bailiff:
Uh, w - We were running late, so I just thought... Y'know, the short one... Because it's shorter.
Mentok:
Uh-huh. Okay, yeah. Bigger one next time, all right? Try the scary one... next time.
Bill Weber:
Now let's go to John Hannafin, who's in the stands with a country music legend.
John Hannafin:
Thank you, Sean. I'm here with one of the greatest country music stars of all-time, Kenny Rogers. Kenny, what do you think of the race so far?
Kenny Rogers:
[obviously not Kenny Rogers] It's good, they're going real fast.
Bill Weber:
John, that's not Kenny Rogers.
John Hannafin:
In the song "The Gambler", you sang "You gotta know when to walk away and know when to run." Should Ricky Bobby have stayed away from racing?
Kenny Rogers:
Mr. Bobby's very competitive. If he wants to race, he should race.
John Hannafin:
Well, this is John Hannafin with Kenny Rogers. And now back to you, Bill.
Bill Weber:
Well, that, of course, was not Kenny Rogers.
Benny Parsons:
Not even close!
