A rave fable: bandstand doll plays
Enter club scene: aircraft hanger. A column of light shines on Iphigenia. Music blares. Lights. Dancing. Rave.
Iphigenia: The aircraft hanger opens an electric wound. Somnambulant bodies throb under the crimson light. Girls with cellophane chests
Put blue pacifiers in their tender mouths
While Diesel shirt boys twirl and hip-shake
To a subsonic bass line.
Downboy by Gisela A plays:
Fresa Girls move amond the throbbing mass of shadows.
FG2: Hey. Its gonnen faster.
FG2: Everything. Look at the screen.
2: the screen.
1: its cool
3: Lets move.
Iphegina: A thousand factory girls move as the beat consumes
The everlasting promise of sundown.
Iphigenia feels her name escape through the pale insomnia
Of the fake Gucci, Prada, and Helmut Lang seething around her.
“Oooh and aaah” she lets herself cry.
ALL girls: Ooooh and aahhhh…
Ipheginia: As the cobras hiss n the blue lounge to one side of the wide open hangar. I have become invisible in this flickering light.
Virtual MC: Lick her, cries the Virtual MC, and welcome to the end, el fin, finis!
Lick her face and rub up against the slimacric wood of a planer about to go to dust. This is el fin, children. This is the end. Hold onto your cojones. We go the sound to un-still your hearts blasting through tommoroow, hasta manana, until the wee bleak trash-can Sinatra hours of a dim morning that will go on for days, or until the enxt brutality brings us face –to face. Ick and moan, cabrones. Moan in the creep of this psychedelic light because here we do what the state says.
Achilles picture flashes on all the screen. BORNS image.
Virtual MC cont: lift up your hands, guerrilla ballerinas showing off your Hello Kitty straps. Its time to smash our heads, down those raspberry martinis, and dream of Mars, Because “the war is over, the gods are over, everything..” Hijos and hisjas de la gran puta, is over.
So lick those scab off those valentine lips,
Achilles image licks the screen and swallows a tablet of E
Fresa girls place E on Iphigenias tongue.
Virtual MC cont: the boy with cherry crush, crazy love, hot pink, star red lips. Achilles. Give your tits and dicks up for our very own war-bred pop myth with Day Glo hips that move, oh yes.
Ipheignia: Whos he talking about?
FG2: The boy with the body. SEE?
BORNS is on all the screens. Electric Love Video playing.
BORNS/Achilles: Stoked up on the cocaine
Living with a migraine
Looking for an end to end all my days
Strolling through the backwoods
Living on the wild glue
Taking what I can fo what I pay
Swimming with the rats
Behind the cops
Cutting white snow on the hoods of la migra
Pulling small roazors from inside my leg
Cutting young men
And al lthe pretty girls
Dance in the deluge
All the pretty girls
Why don’t ou kiss me?
Killing for a bum rush
Off a lousing bum fuck
Bitches in the corner
Begging for a blow job
Caught in la tijera
Of a road made of sin
Spinning my brain: oh what can I, what can i..?
And all the pretty girls
Dance in the deluge
All the fresa girls die..
Why don’t youdie?
Where is your father, girl?
Where is your father?
Hes left you all alone in the world.
Achilles sings to the camera, a la mick jagger
Ipheginia: Hold me. My limbs ache. I tremble. I blur. One hundred and twenty beats perminute: my heart goes.
Achilles video fades
Ipheginia: The fresa girls surround me iwht their stained skirts, and metallic forheads. I move, pulse, escape. The inside of my chest bursting. I tease myself into thinking no one can find me here. And then I see you standing beside me, Father, except you don’t look like yourself. You wear a smart coat and tal hair, place your hand over my eyes, and whisper “shhh, angel.”
All FG: shhhh
Iphigenia: As a knife comes inmy back and I feel myself fall a thousand feet down
craig armstrong – escape plays
ALL FG: Shhhhh
Iphiegina: A thousand feet into darkness. And you don’t say anything. Father, you done even say
ALL FG: shhhh
Ipheginia: You just smile. With white snow on your tongue. I am laser-lit. Suspended. A hundred million particles of light. Iphigenia is dying. Hold me.