AT RISE:
Two librarians, NEIL and CAROL sort books. Carol stops, and looks thoughtful.
CAROL:
Hey, Neil?
NEIL:
Yes, Carol?
CAROL:
Do you think you can you be both a library cataloguer and a nihilist?
NEIL:
Well, logically, a cataloguer would have to believe in cataloguing, believe in the worthiness of the system which he or she was enforcing, in order to effectively go about his or her job. So I’d have to say no.
CAROL:
Oh. I suppose that makes sense. It’s just that I thought I was suddenly struck by the futility of man’s attempt to impose meaning and order to a chaotic universe, thus destroying my capacity to believe in anything. For what is belief but another such attempt, albeit one imposed solely within the self? And once one begins down that dark path, what choice is there ultimately but the decision to reject all notions of God, man and society?
(She picks up a book)
But here we are.
NEIL:
Indeed. I wouldn’t worry too much, if I were you.
CAROL:
Why’s that?
NEIL:
It’s a well-known fact that librarians are more prone to such existential breakdown than any other profession. Aside from garbage men, of course.
CAROL:
Oh. You mean you’ve felt the same?
NEIL:
Of course.
CAROL:
And how do you deal with it?
NEIL:
My debilitating dependence on alcohol, mostly.
CAROL:
Oh.
A beat.
Must be nice.
NEIL:
It gets you where you’re going.
CAROL:
I shall have to give it a try.
Neil gives her a small smile, and they go back to work.
BLACKOUT. END PLAY.
14 years ago
2 comments:
True story, one time I gave a talk on "The Dewey Decimal System and Philosophy," and we hit on some of these same issues -- the arbitrary nature of order, the psyches of the orderers, that sort of thing. IT WAS WELL RECEIVED.
It is a little known fact that I have lifted the plot of every piece of creative writing I have ever written (dating back to the second grade) from your critical work Mr. Bard. Now that you have discovered this, I have no recourse but to go to plan B: endless boob and poop jokes. I hope you're happy.
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