Aaron Belz

Last we heard, Aaron lives in St. Louis and keeps an archive of his work at http://meaningless.com. He can be reached at aaron@belz.net.

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BLAISE PASCAL EATING A LEMON IN THE COMPANY OF ALEXADRE DUMAS AND RALPH

WALDO EMERSON ON A VERY HOT DAY

DUMAS: Sour, eh?

PASCAL: 'Sour, eh?' Is that the best you can do?

EMERSON: Lay off, Blaise.

DUMAS: It's okay, Ralph, I can handle this.

EMERSON: Why is he always trying to up the ante somehow?

PASCAL: I'm sitting right here.

EMERSON: Okay then, Blaise -- my bitter friend, sitting on an empty milk

crate, looking angry -- why are you always showing people up?

PASCAL: I occasionally--

DUMAS: I said I could handle this, Ralph.

PASCAL: Or rather, sporadically notice how mundane my philosophical friends

have become. And my writer-friends, too. I mean, think about it, guys. We

walk out of the pub there, and Alex chirps, 'Sheesh, it's hot.' Now that's

what I call a mundane observation.

DUMAS: I'm sitting right here.

PASCAL: Okay, Al. I'll ask you straight. Why do you feel the need to narrate

life in all its ratty detail? It's not as if there's something to be

gained--

DUMAS: You ignore a basic principal of social life.

PASCAL: Yes?

DUMAS: Social people engage in simple commentary and inquiry in order to

hedge themselves in from the inevitable abyss, from death; their seemingly

trite or as you say 'mundane' observations form a kind of mortar between the

bricks of artful and philosophical statements. They are like sips of water

between shots of bourbon.

PASCAL: I never chase my bourbon.

DUMAS: Okay, but do you prefer your bricks stacked loose? See, I neither

seek to engage triviality nor do I shun it; unlike most people, though, I am

at least half-conscious of my small talk. I wouldn't see the harm if I

weren't, though. Much great thought has arisen from the seedbed of common

gaffs, street mentionings. Let your words-of-mouth meander, Blaise.

EMERSON: Well said, Alex.

PASCAL: I have to think about it. It seems unduly ornamental.

DUMAS: Not ornamental, Blaise. Basic to human nature. Come on.

EMERSON: Here comes Virginia Woolf.

DUMAS: I'm not afraid!

PASCAL: There you go again, Al.

EMERSON: [grinning broadly] Doh!

DUMAS: She's sweating like a pig. Look at all the dark spots on her sun

dress.

EMERSON: Well, it's a hot day. No rain in sight, either.

PASCAL: [dramatically exasperated] Come on guys.

WOOLF: Hey fellas. What's shakin'?

EMERSON & DUMAS: Nothin' but the leaves on the trees, sweetie pie!

[She smiles brightly.]

PASCAL: I am throwing up now. I am going to buy some smokes.

[He crosses street, throws lemon rind in trash can, enters shop.]

WOOLF: What's wrong with Blaise?

DUMAS: We finally cornered him on his ivory-tower attitude toward common

parlance. This has been a long time coming, but I think he'll rebound

quickly.

WOOLF: Interesting.

DUMAS: And while we're cornering people, what's with the hero complex,

Ralph? You're a nice guy, but I can stick up for myself in situations like

this.

EMERSON: Sorry, Alex. I leap at injustice. No offense intended. You're a

man, you can handle conflict.

WOOLF: Hey, hey now.

DUMAS: Yeah, what's with the sexist remarks?

EMERSON: Wow, a guy doesn't have to say much to give offense around here,

does he? Remember, I'm a nineteenth-century intellectual from a democratic

but imperialistic society. Although I am a humanist, my mores are based in

Christian values. I'm not trained to guard myself against sexist comments.

Mine is the age of science and industry; the strength of men is an important

part of that.

WOOLF: The strength of people, I would say.

EMERSON: Whatever.

DUMAS: That 'whatever' is the Achilles heel of your whole mentality, gentle

thinker. I may be a novelist, Virginia, but I seem to outwit these

mind-cowboys with dispatch.

[Pascal reappears with a small, old fashioned packet of cigarettes; crosses

the street to rejoin the group.]

PASCAL: Anyone want to head up to Marty's for a slice?

DUMAS: It's only 4:40, but I could eat. I think the heat has made me hungry.

[The others nod their consent and the whole group begins to walk.]

WOOLF: Do you guys want to hear an excerpt from my new bit? I'm calling it

'The Vagina Dialogues.'

DUMAS: Ewww!!

PASCAL: Why not monologues?

WOOLF: Working title! Fear not, fellas.

[The men huddle, whisper between themselves, and begin to chant 'Who's

afraid of Virginia Woolf?'; Woolf grins broadly and joins in, and arm-in-arm

they dance offstage.]

== CURTAIN ==

Aaron Belz