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Monday, January 9, 2017

"HAPPY DAYS"


"Well I thought that the most dreadful thing that could happen to anybody, 
would be not to be allowed to sleep so that just as you’re dropping off there’d 
be a ‘Dong’ and you’d have to keep awake...Samuel Beckett in preparation 
for writing Happy Days. 

The opening pic below is not "Twilight" British actor Robert Pattinson
looking at his vampire mother.  This "Everyday Sunday" Morrissey
video locates on a British beach resort that's seen happier days.
Life's a beach and then you die.  But not before your "Happy Days"
invite arrives.

                           

The female driver in the video is Billie Whitelaw who I saw at The Old Vic
in Beckett's "Happy Days" in 1970's London.  I hopped a plane across
the English Channel from Paris to London, was greeted by a nasty airport
attendant as if he were expecting me and had no idea where I was going
in London.  I saw an advert for a Beckett play at the Old Vic.  I'd heard
of Beckett's Waiting For Godot.  So I bought a ticket because I liked the
name of the star.  Billie Whitelaw as Winnie with head sticking up out of
the beach sands of time was captivating.

I was affected by the total strangeness of the play.  Naturally I went to
the bar next door, had two beers and while walking down underground
stairs I briefly passed out for the first time in my life.  I can't blame
Beckett or the beer.  The combination along with a full back pack cut
off my circulation.  I wound up going to free British clinic with busted
front teeth looking like An American Werewolf In London.

Whitelaw died in 2014.  I've had the Morrissey video on this page since at
least that time.  It was only in 2016 that I recognized her in the video and
that she just happened to be a very close simulacra to a post 911 former
girlfriend.  Just my imagination?  No, my imagination isn't up to the task of processing half the strangeness that happens to me everyday including Sunday.
Only after seeing the play again in 2017 in Brooklyn with Diane Weist did I
realize what the title and the play meant.

The "Gong" sound of Happy Days isn't a storytelling device to keep the audience 
from dosing.  Or maybe it is.  Sharp sudden click sounds were used to similar effect 
in plays like "The Old Woman" with Mikhail Baryshnikov and Willem Dafoe and in 
Constellations" with Jake Gyllenhaal.  (Elon Musk has named his tunneling drilling 
machine "Godot" as in Waiting for Godot (just leave off the last 2 letters) because 
both are so "boring.") 

Beckett's description of "the most dreadful thing" that could happen to anyone 
happened to me.  It started in 2003 with a clear pained male voice from the
corner of my ceiling saying, "somebody help me."  That happened once.  
I thought it was my upstairs neighbors or a prank.  It was neither.  There was 
never a gong sound but I did then and do now hear something like it.  It's a base 
note heavy hammer like effect.  Always heard as a sudden low key base pounding.
Recently it became like an angry strikingly loud crack of sudden thunder similar 
in volume and pitch to that heard in the movie dealing with the paranormal, 
"Personal Shopper" with Kristen Stewart.  Oh, it just so happens as I reedit this 
mess and one day after the Aug. 21st 2017 Eclipse loud cracks of thunder and 
rain hits NYC. 

Back to 2003.  The above was followed by hearing an electronically 
distorted siren-like human scream lasting for years.   Those sounds and more 
disrupted and latter kept me completely awake for approximately nine months. 
The latter happened after I retired in the latter part of 2005. 

It's as if I had the extreme audacity to retire after working seventy hour weeks
at two jobs for twenty years with nothing but time and age to show for it.  I
went from 70 hour work weeks to zero.  The result wasn't from overwork or
any kind of non-combat PTSD.  It wasn't induced by drugs, beer, Beckett plays, dementia or delusion.  (The all too familiar "I'm the exception") No space aliens,
demons, NWO Reptilian Globalists, no drugs, no mental illness.

On my last day at work a 6' 4" black on the fat side co-worker made a point 
of telling me what I would find among what he called "daytime people."  
Among these according to him would be: slackers, stoners, crazies, homeless, unemployed, students, or like me, retired.  What I actually did find would be
an insult to slackers, crazies and stoners.  What I saw in Manhattan particularly
after 2011 went beyond recovery by NYC and the country from the Cheney 
Bush Great Recession.  Beyond displaced immigrants from the MINA or the 
opioid crisis.  None of that or punk or stupidly named "hipster style" even 
begins to describe the large numbers of people in Manhattan who looked 
traumatized beyond disruption.  

Throughout 2015 and 2016 I refused to believe that what I was seeing would somehow translate into the 2016 election of a 70 year old New Yorker with spray-painted cheeks and hair to the Presidency of the United States. 

This blog is my attempt at describing the above unnerving human++ types.   It's bound to
sound like something straight out of delusion, from zombie movies or a central casting-
call for a sub-class of Marvel unitards.  Except the above two plus marks after the word
human are completely applicable but I'm not sure what they equal.  If anything.

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