Wednesday, September 19, 2007

A Request - Clay Continent Exercise

Those of you who read this blog regularly, I have a request. I would like to give you a quick and easy assignment.

I want you to tell me about a time or event when you were filled with an irrational amount of fear and/or rage.

I will attempt to use these moments or let them inspire scenes between Jekyll and Hyde. I want to create scenarios similar to this one, which was inspired by the idea of having irrational Raoul Duke like response to a couple of bicycle cops I saw at the Panera.

You can also tell me about an image that you saw that again gave you desire toward irrational vehement response.

Just a couple of sentences...pretty please. Who knows, your irrational fear and loathing might inspire an excellent scene for my actors to perform come April 2008.


RebeccaZ said...

Fear: Visiting the Eiffel Tower at night with a pack of fellow high school students. I decided to take the stairs down instead of the elevator like everyone else. The lights were shining up through the metal steps and I could see the ground below. I got the biggest cast of vertigo - not knowing up from down - and became paralyzed. Fortunately, a nice couple of Australians assisted me down.

And a bat once flew at me and I screamed like a little girl and ran in the opposite direction. I was very surprised at myself for doing so.

Rage: (I'm not proud of this, Bob. Here's a really personal story for you ...) I once saw a particular gentleman I adore smoke a cigarette when he said he gave up smoking. It made me so mad when he didn't put that cigarette away that I ditched him at a party and turned on Bjork's Hyperballad (this song was played over and over by me that evening ... the one with her accompanied by the Brodsky quartet). Of course, I returned and he was waiting for me outside. He was still smoking. He says I tried to hit him with the car, but I think I just started vrooming to make a point. He got in the car, but I was still enraged, and I stopped and made him walk. I went back to get him of course. He decided he would drive. He kicked me out of the car to make his point. This continued a couple of times. Finally both of us got home one way or another. I was still so mad and had recently given up eating meat so I got his attention by reaching into the refrigerator, grabbed a piece of deli meat and proclaimed "What if I ate this, huh? Huh?" He didn't care which continued me on my Rumplestiltskin-esque tirade and I think a couple of plates may have been thrown.

All over a little cigarette.

Sigh. Those were the days.

RLewis said...

Years back, my girlfriend was making art in her studio when a street band cranked up on the sidewalk under her Broadway window. She couldn't focus on her work, and made me go down to get them to move. Annoyed!

I didn't want to, but went down and explained to the lead singer. I didn't ask them to move, but just turn down the amplifiers. The guy raised his fists, which caught my eye as I prepared to defend myself. While I'm watching fists he head butts me in the mouth and runs away. Cheater. Ya think any passerby stops to help? forgetaboutit. Anger!

With mouth bleeding, I tracked down a cop car and explained to the nice officers what had happened, but by then all the musicians had fled. Oddly, the cops wanted to see my ID, so I had to go back up to the loft for my wallet, and while I was away they questioned some street vendors (who's side do you think they'd take?). When I returned the cops took me to the side of their car and threatened to arrest me for false accusations. Rage!!

Clearly, they had better things to do, so I backed out of filing any charges, wiped the blood from my chin, and went back to whatever I was doing. Hurt. Embarrassed. Insulted. Livid.

For a while there, I hated everyone, but no street vendor has set up shop under her window ever since. And it's a great Voir Dire story to get out of jury duty - I'll never trust a cop again.

Devilvet said...

rebeccaz, rlewis

thanks so much

I love the stories.

Anybody else? Don I'm sure you got something

Ravin? Paul? Come on hit me with it

Paul said...

I'm at work, so I really can't use the word choice that comes to mind.

But the... blissfully-ignorant wife of my old friend once said that, although she didn't think it right at the time, she thought the most painful night of my adult life (the last straw in the disintegration of a five-year relationship) was the funniest thing she ever heard.

I nearly smashed her face into jelly.

Anonymous said...

Sorry I haven't read this before. I was out of town for awhile.
RageI'm very destructive in a rage. (who isn't?) Broken furniture, guitars, bones, marriage, name it. I'll leave it at that. It took me a long while to realize that it wasn't normal behavior. I have it under control now without the aid of bullshit "anger management". (See Penn & Teller)
Fear. That's a good one. There's the slow building fear that gets amplified by the helmet that shuts out all other sound except the muffled pounding of blood in your head. That was the first time I ever walked on to the flight deck. Trying to follow this second class PO as he walked in between and around turning jet engines and spinning propellers. Planes towering over me and moving in dozens of different directions at once. I quickly learned to love it. I loved the "all eyeballs" atmosphere of working in close proximity to machines that could turn you into shredded wheat the moment you lost concentration.
Now, there's also the stupefying, paralyzing, stomach jellifying fear I had when a guy followed me and a friend out of a bar with a gun one time when I was stationed in Virginia. I had no idea what his intentions were. I was vaguely aware of the guy as we left the bar. When we got to our car on the side of the building and I waited by the passenger door as my buddy got in on his side. I saw the guy stop on the sidewalk in front of the car. I looked at him, wondering why he was standing there, and was going to say something to him but he was looking to his right towards the road in front of the bar. That's when I saw a gun in his right hand with a little napkin/hanky over it to sort of hide it. Not a good sign. My gaze went from the gun to the guys face and he turned at that second and we locked eyes for a moment. I can tell you that my brain and body were completely frozen with fear. I don't know what happened but I think by looking into his eyes I sort of busted him and he lost his nerve. Maybe he mistook my paralysis for quiet calm. Don't know. He turned to his right and walked away. My friend was oblivious to the whole thing. Nary a clue. He opened my door and as we drove off and I started breathing again in a few minutes. I told him what happened. He didn't believe.