December 14 & 15: Jordan Hall

December 14 & 15: Wishing for Aaron Sorkin

Jordan Hall

CHARACTERS:

Corridor Man 1
Corridor Man 2
The Girl with the Notebook

Wishing for Aaron Sorkin

At the back of the stage Corridor Man 1 & 2 walk rapidly from wing to wing, having a rapid-fire conversation.

Corridor Man 1: So what are we looking at?

Corridor Man 2: What we’re looking at is a clusterfuck. We don’t want our guy anywhere near it.

Corridor Man 1: But what about the public space stuff? He’s gonna want to be on that. That’s his jam, man.

Corridor Man 2: Yeah, only it isn’t really public space. Not in the middle of the richest riding in the whole damn city. Pretty hard to rustle up public sympathy when the only people using the park have an income five times the national average.

Corridor Man 1: It would be a lot more convenient for us if the soulless corporations would go after more unambiguous victims.

Corridor Man 2: They’re hoping it’s going to be a wedge. He shells out what they’re asking for the gardens and he’s an elitist making sure the trophy wives and academics get to keep their fancy park at the expense of impoverished masses. He caves and lets them bulldoze the park and the environmentalists and public space activists crucify him.

Their voices fade out, but they keep walking and talking animatedly. A light at the front of the stage illuminates the Girl with the Notebook, a young, bookish girl writing intently in a large pink diary.

The Girl with the Notebook: Dear Aaron Sorkin, in whom we trust, largely because the West Wing was really awesome and made people really think about politics, even if they were kind of idealistic politics where the good guys were mostly good and mostly won and even the bad guys had a kind of old-school dignity and Constitutional rhetoric was still a big deal. I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately. Partially because of the Sony thing where you were all “actresses don’t have to work as hard as actors to win Oscars because their roles are easier”. Which is a pretty shitty thing for you to say when the only decent female role you ever wrote was C.J. Creig. You should probably pick up your socks on that if you don’t want to go down in history as an hypocritical misogynist who did his best work with political concepts that stopped being contemporary like twenty-five years ago— and maybe you think that’s unimportant because your latent misogyny doesn’t really connect up to all the big thrilling ideas you love– but it kinda does. Because at the heart of misogyny, just like any other oppression, is the idea that certain people don’t deserve access to the same things: whether that’s clean air and water, or the right to vote, or the sphere of ideas. And, in conclusion, I would like you to believe that I’m just as capable of operating in the sphere of ideas— and for you to maybe lay off the Constitutional rhetoric a little– because it doesn’t really help us with reality of political practice these days. Like maybe read some Noam Chomsky or something. With love, Rosalie.

In the background behind her, the Corridor Men continue walking and talking.

Corridor Man 1: When the Founding Fathers wrote “that all men are created equal” they weren’t really thinking about what would happen if you extended that right to trophy wives who do whatever Oprah tells them.

Corridor Man 2: But that one in the yoga pants? You gotta admit.

Corridor Man 1: Seriously? I prefer them when they can string together a sentence without using the word “like” eight times.

The Corridor Men laugh. The lights fall on them still walking and talking.

END.