Dramatis Personae: YOU
Setting: YOUR ROOM
Act 1: YOU are torn apart on the flickering screen of a box
computer monitor. ASCII graphics spreading and condensing. Every glyph is a
particle in the wave. Corrupted notes rise as excitations. YOU note each
corruption on your interface. The notes form a rudimentary image. YOU see
something. The outline of a figure of personal importance.
Memory is a fragile object made of time and language.
The outline of a loved-one is the blurring of a poem.
You are a WEEPER. You weep when you can’t tell who this is.
You cut the meat from between your thighs.
You throw it into the ocean. The ocean turns red.
Act 2: The screen is a stage for procedural performances.
YOU perform a scene from a play titled, “SCAB SCHEMA” which has you reading
incoherent babel. Half-formed sentences with bolded terminology. Words like
“generative,” “incipit,” “birth.” YOU feel as if you are being mocked. I don’t
know by what. A ghost in the machine. Something underneath the luminous
darkness. SCAB SCHEMA, YOU assume, is a play about growing new skin.
Post-ecdysis. Post-injury. The directions tell you to tear away the skin
beneath your knee. It doesn’t say which knee. YOU do not want to. Your hand
does so anyways.
The script of SCAB SCHEMA demands utterance. It demands to
be spoken, brought into the physical realm. The interface is capable of
uploading information into your head, but it cannot force you into action. YOU
are in control. YOU are the subject, but still YOU are in control. The object /
interface shallowly guides your actions. YOU attempt to speak as the skin of
your knees peels back from the muscle.
This is a work of performance. Did you not expect us to ask
for you to perform it?
Is this your first time on stage?
Have you felt weightless? Have you been on a plane? Or levitated
above a fire?
SCAB SCHEMA is a play about rebirth. Have you ever been
reborn?
ACT 3: The flesh beneath your knees burns in the open air.
Blood seeps from the spaces between muscle and bone. At first like water, and
then like mucous. Welling in dense globules after the pressure has caused it to
coagulate. Thin red streaks run down your calves. “SCAB SCHEMA” regenerates. A
new scenario appears on your interface. A new set of lines and directions. YOU
skim the lines before uttering.
The monitor glows luminous in the distance. The black screen
somehow bright and almost blinding in its darkness. YOU feel the desire to move
inward. To investigate the artificiality of this void. But YOU do not. YOU
remain where you are. Awaiting further instruction. Awaiting the full render of
this script. YOU open your mouth and let SCAB SCHEMA speak through YOU.
SCAB SCHEMA is a work participating in the Theater of
Impotence.
Continuing the traditions of Artaud’s Theater of Cruelty.
Have you seen his soft face and smoothed chin?
The Theater of Impotence is spawned from an inward cruelty.
Reflected back onto the self.
The stage is a place for self-flagellation and castration.
SCAB SCHEMA is a play about shortcomings. It is about the
skin of your knees that will not grow back, or that will grow back shittier.
Cross-hatched and discolored.
ACT 4: YOU are sitting at a desk with a stack of books on
digital fabrications and virtually-oriented architecture. O(rphan)d(rift>)
cyberpositive, Architectural Intelligence: How Designers and Architects Created
the Digital Landscape, Supra Systems, The Second Digital Turn: Design Beyond
Intelligence, The Alphabet and the Algorithm, Interface for a Fractal
Landscape, CCRU Writings 1997 - 2003, Generative Strata, Lonely Men Club,
anything that might remotely lead YOU to the site radiating these auras/
transmitting these frequencies.
YOU attempt to find an archive of previous SCAB SCHEMA
iterations. YOU want to collect them and perform them once again. Stepping onto
the projected stage and pretending to lift and dance around with its
set-dressings. But instead YOU receive a new generation of scenes. They tell
YOU to photograph the blood streaks on your shins and to scan them onto this
database: aaaaaaaaaaaa when you are done. YOU obey.
The Theater of Impotence is the conversion of self-exile /
self-punishment into art.
In which the actor is a prisoner. And the audience is a
jury.
The performance text is a geographical object.
It is a labor-source. The generative cell of potential
action.
Do you not read the play as if it is a manual? Or the
instructions for assembling a futon?
Do you not read it knowing that you will obey?
ACT 5: YOU read three hundred books. Scanning over every
word until YOU are no longer capable of seeing. SCAB SCHEMA infects the
interface and crawls into your brain. It tells YOU that YOU must feel the text.
Let the interface glow through your eyes. Coil around your optic nerve. The new
lines are regurgitated onto your tongue, constructed from the remnants of
previous scenes. The generative cells of the procedural process are jury-rigged
into your skull. A rudimentary computer spawns a new dialect of whining
technobabel.
The eyes are a film camera.
The stage is a projection of certain desires.
We cannot ignore the virtuality of the Theater of
Impotence--the role of software in its creation.
The labor of the performance text is accelerated by the procedural-generation
of lines.
SCAB SCHEMA is a tool for creating endless utterance / a
schizopastoral landscape.
The skull is a housing for teef.
The skull is a housing for yet-to-be-spoken words /
proto-utterance.
SCAB SCHEMA is the initiation of these mechanisms.
The Theater of Impotence is a categorization of the
mechanisms’ actions.
Do you know what you are doing? What intentions you have in
being here?
I do not mean to mock you. I only mean to question your
presence here.
SCAB SCHEMA is a play about your own self-induced amnesia /
forgetfulness.
The performance text is a diegesis capable of annihilating
history.
The labor you perform on its behalf is the construction of a
new reality.
In traditional theater, this reality is temporary.
In the Theater of Impotence, it is a replacement for the
corporeality of your birth.
SCAB SCHEMA is your migration into the virtual
mise-en-scene.
MIKE CORRAO is the author of three novels, MAN, OH MAN (Orson's Publishing); GUT TEXT (11:11 Press) and RITUALS PERFORMED IN THE ABSENCE OF GANYMEDE (11:11 Press); one book of poetry, TWO NOVELS (Orson's Publishing); two plays, SMUT-MAKER (Inside the Castle) and ANDROMEDUSA (Forthcoming - Plays Inverse); and three chapbooks, AVIAN FUNERAL MARCH (Self-Fuck); MATERIAL CATALOGUE (Alienist) and SPELUNKER (Schism - Neuronics). Along with earning multiple Best of the Net nominations, Mike’s work has been featured in publications such as 3:AM, Collagist, Always Crashing, and Denver Quarterly. His work often explores the haptic, architectural, and organismal qualities of the text-object. He lives in Minneapolis.
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