An agitated PATIENT, played by Allen, lies on a THERAPIST’s couch.
It’s terrible, doctor. I can’t rid myself of this overwhelming sense that everything is hopeless.
Many people benefit from an activity that requires consistent, periodic attention. For example, have you tried gardening?
Gardening? Doctor, I tried. I’m one of the few — my radishes, they attempted to stage a coup. It’s embarrassing.
I don’t want to get a red car
because I know it’s flashy.
I don’t want to get a black car
because I know heat’s an issue.
I know how much a car costs,
about insurance, I get it.
A gray car is so boring.
A beige car is boring.
My big gram gave me 50 dollars
and my cousin 50 dollars.
I’ve been picking up returnables.
He used his for one night at a hotel.
Why would he do that?
Fatigue, not virtue, is the antidote to sin. It’s more difficult to covet the neighbor’s wife if one is asleep in the den.
1. I’m fluent in multiple dialects of English: banal English, insufferable English, trampled English.
2. I used to pursue wonder, now it’s available to me whenever — by reflecting on the expanse of my shortcomings.
3. Why do I publish these trifles? Because something inside me is compelled to “leave my mark.” Something absurd.
You shall know me by the quantity of seltzer cans I redeem.
A teenaged ROBERT SMITH is lying on his bed, hopeless.
(Walking to ROBERT SMITH’S bedroom.)
Alright, Robert. Out of bed, time to go.
(Arrives in doorway.)
Oh my G-d, Robert, are you still asleep?
No. Just rendered inert by the burden of living.
Okay, Robert. You’ll have plenty of time to be rendered inert later. Right now, though, you’re going with Mr. Friedman to get fish for Shabbos.