So between the insomnia and the anxiety dreams (all clothing related, for some bizarre reason I wot not of), I think we can conclude that I'm stressed about something. No, don't ask me what.
I DON'T KNOW. But it means that my thought processes have gotten simultaneously weirder and slower, so I can sort of watch my brain work. Like the Glass Cat's.
So, as I have been for several years now, I am thinking about getting a tattoo. I almost got one at Fourth Street, but bailed on account of the tattoo artist not seeming to understand what I wanted. But I have a birthday coming up (my thirty-fifth, which seems sort of pseudo-significant), and I'm thinking about it again. (Parenthetically, if anyone in the Madison area has recommendations about tattoo artists, please please please comment or email or something.) One of the designs I have been considering, on and off, is Dyson Cieslewisc's
rabbit (the left-hand rabbit), from "
Dexterity," my episode of
Shadow Unit. Different reasons than Dice, but, well. And the thought crossed my mind again this morning, for reasons I can no longer reconstruct. Which is where we join the stream of consciousness in progress:
Int.GUILDENSTERN: It is a very cool rabbit.
ROSENCRANTZ: But it's wrong. Year of the Tiger, not Year of the Rabbit.
GUILDENSTERN: Tigers are cool, too. A tiger tattoo could be pretty awesome.
ROSENCRANTZ: Wait a second. That's the Chinese Zodiac. That's cultural appropriation.
GUILDENSTERN: Shit, that's right. We'll have to--
[crackle of static]THE RADIO: "It's the eye of the tiger / It's the thrill of the fight"
ROSENCRANTZ:
[moans] Oh no, no, no, no, no.
THE RADIO: "Standing up to the challenge of our rivals"
Ext.[Truepenny comes into the study from the kitchen][Mirrorthaw takes off his headphones]TRUEPENNY: My brain is cursed.
MIRRORTHAW: Cursed?
TRUEPENNY: I have the acoustic cover of "Eye of the Tiger"* stuck in my head, and if that isn't a curse, I don't know what is.
MIRRORTHAW: Can I change the station?
TRUEPENNY: I don't know how!
[Truepenny exits back to kitchen, singing "It's the eye of the tiger / it's the thrill of the fight"][Mirrorthaw resumes his headphones]Int.GUILDENSTERN: Turn it off!
ROSENCRANTZ: Where's the off-switch?
GUILDENSTERN: There is no fucking off-switch!
ROSENCRANTZ:
[shouting at ceiling] STOP IT THIS INSTANT! STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT!
THE RADIO:
[triumphantly] "EYEEEEEEEEEE ... of the tiger"
[pause][Rosencrantz & Guildenstern look around warily]THE RADIO: "Won't you ease on down, ease on down the road?"
ROSENCRANTZ & GUILDENSTERN:
[simultaneous facepalms]Ext.[enter Truepenny to the study again][Mirrorthaw takes off his headphones and waits]TRUEPENNY: I have proof that I was IRRETRIEVABLY WARPED by junior high school chorus.
MIRRORTHAW:
[looks alarmed]TRUEPENNY: In my head, "Eye of the Tiger" segues immutably into "Ease On Down the Road." Because we did medleys. "Eye of the Tiger," "Ease On Down the Road."
MIRRORTHAW: Are you sure I can't change the channel? Where's the remote? Everything comes with a remote these days.
TRUEPENNY: Ah, but I was made before 1980.
MIRRORTHAW: Oh god that's right. There is no remote.
TRUEPENNY: Not even one with a cord.
MIRRORTHAW: Just push-buttons.
TRUEPENNY: Maybe some dials.
MIRRORTHAW: And I don't know where they are!
Int.ROSENCRANTZ:
[timidly] The rabbit's from a netsuke. Does that mean it's no good, either?
GUILDENSTERN: Dunno. There's always the labyrinth idea. Or the octopus. Or get somebody to design a sort of catfish-dragon thing.
ROSENCRANTZ:
[ponders]GUILDENSTERN:
[ponders]THE RADIO: "It's the eye of the tiger ..."
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*Mirrothaw found it somewhere, because The Internet Is Full Of Things.