miércoles, 19 de noviembre de 2014

the casting

"Are you the director?" I asked timidly.
"I've seen too much to be a director," replied the noble tree.
He seemed so well grounded I thought he just had to be the director. After all, directors are supposed to know what they want. 
"Well, I'm an actor and I heard there is going to be a casting here."
"What role are you I interested in?"
"I'd take any role but....What's the play?"
"Woh! Shakespeare is my cup of tea. I just did "Much ado about nothing."
"You can be a tree, if you want. In the final battle scene."
"Well, actually I was looking for something with a little more substance to it."
"My dear fellow: in theatre there are no small roles."
"I know. That's what they to.d me in my acting class. But, well, isn't there a role that would fit me better?"
"Don't worry! You'll grow Into
o it!"

What are you reading?

He seems greatly interested in what some reporter wrote in the previous day's paper. Is it true? Why did the newspaper publish it? Did the editor ask the journalist to rewrite the article? Why? Who are the paper's main advertisers? And then what will the reader say to his friends about what he read? Will his version be the same as the reporter's?
"Hi!" I said in an imaginary but possible interview. "What's the news?"
"Adolf Hitler got married 15 minutes before he killed himself."
"Doesn't sound like a very romantic honeymoon!"
"No, it wasn't...it wasn't a honeymoon."
"I've got your point. But...Did they make love first?"
"Ich Weiss nicht!"
"How's that?"
" I don't know."
"What do you think?"
"He ripped off her blouse with the barrel of his pistol."
"Which one, which pistol?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know, the one in the holster or...the other one?"
"It doesn't really matter much. After you send millions to the gas chambers you loose a certain amount of sensitivity. Still he might have shouted in Eva's ear 'Ich Liebe dich!' while he raped her and she probably reacted by blasting his head off and screaming "Heil Hitler scheisskopf!'"
"You have no evidence to back up your story, do you?"
"No, not really. But I think the idea would sell."
"I thought newspapers were supposed to print the truth."
"There's always a theory and a practice."
"Yea, but tell me why human beings are so savage?"
"You ask me!"
"Do you think you might find the answer in that newspaper?"
"No, but it's a good pastime. We are very special. We can slaughter each other in genocides, torture our 'enemies', insult, rob destroy and devastate everything in sight and we can write the most moving love poems, caress our loved one's cheeks, offer our lives to better those of less fortunate humans...we are unbearable, false, stupid, egotistical and self serving beasts."
"Indeed! I think I'll go home and take a hot shower. Could you please lend me the newspaper?"