UnScripts:Secrets of Uranus
The Secrets of Uranus is a Broadway style musical satirizing the creation of the material universe written by David Normal.
The problem is that God is constipated - He hits up the Devil for laxative pills, and after a little negotiation Sigmund Freud is sent to Heaven to psychoanalyze the supreme being. Eventually God is put before the Inquisition, and during the course of the ensuing trial he releases the "Turd of Ages" and a new universe is thereby created. Along the way, of course, there are many opportunities for lively song and dance routines.
- God (appears in the classic image of the Judaeo-Christian divine patriarch, Yahweh, with white hair, long beard, and flowing golden robes)
- Mephistopheles (appears in classically diabolical smoking suits)
- Sigmund Freud (appears in his hallmark tweed suit)
- The Turd Angels (Chorus Girls with angel wings and gold mylar dresses. They bear large golden turds 4' high)
- Freud Frau (Chorus Girls with Freud head placards, no wings and silver mylar dresses)
- Arch Turd Angels (Chorus Girls in Gold turd costumes with larger wings)
- Cupid (A lithe, handsome youth in wings and a diaper)
- Radio Announcer (Suave 30's style politico)
The Giant Anus. A two story high flaming asshole with pneumatically inflating and deflating rectal tissue. Enter God through the Anus. Thunder. Drum-roll. Segue to Early Jazz. God does a divine soft shoe and begins to sing in a style reminiscent of Cab Calloway:
Let There Be Light Children, Do you remember my name? Creation, my everlastin' game! Way back, in the very first inning before Adam, Eve, an' all that sinning . . . Children, recall when time began? Darkness and me on the ol' shit-can. [Chorus] Way back, as my bowels did move I cried out: Ya-owww!!! blee-bib-a-dlop-boop-pee-ploo-d-d-d-da-yah!!! flee-bib-a -poo-pow-yibbity-ya-yah!!! Skoobiddee- diddee-diddee-diddly-da-wah!!! Yow! Yow!! Yow!! [and so forth skat- singing]. [With Arch Turd Angels] LET THERE BE LIGHT!!!!! [Sax Solo] Set the cosmos in a groove!!! [Skat Singing] LET THERE BE LIGHT!!!!! [Sax & Skat] Oh Lord! how my bowels did move!!! [Bridge] You may contemplate an atheistic universe, a vast and inexplicable machine. Children, don't ya' sell yourselves short - THERE'S A HELLUVA' LOT MORE TO THIS SCENE!!! I'm GOD!!! Yes! it's really true!!! Truth is what I really do!!! [Arch Turd Angels Sing:] He's GOD!!! Yes! it's really true!!! Truth is what he really do- doo- doo-wah!!! [Repeat Chorus With Arch Turd angels]
Dark Anus. Lights come up slowly. God is sitting on the "throne" perched on one of the legs of the Anus. He is visibly struggling and consternated. Constipated. Slow, dirge like blues with train sound effects.
[God dials telephone - telephone rings loudly - red spot light suddenly illuminates the opposing leg where Mephistopheles is sitting on his "Throne"]
GOD: Mephy-Baby - I got a problem.
DEVIL: How strange you should call - I was just thinking of you. Now, about the fate of mankind - I was think-
GOD: Mephy, not now, I've got a serious problem, O.K. ? I can't shit.
DEVIL: Oh, not this again...
GOD: Just listen to me, please: I haven't taken a shit in millennia. It's terrible. I think maybe the last time I had a good BM was shortly after I smote Sodom.
DEVIL: You have told me this before and I repeat that if you had bothered to ask me I would have advised you against the destruction of Sodom. Why don't you ever consult me before you have one of your tantrums?
GOD: I don't want to hear this drivel. Mephy, I'm in pain - I need a laxative pill. You got anything down there?
DEVIL: I'm out actually, you've eaten them all - every last one.
GOD: I don't believe you. C'mon, avarice is a sin. You must honor thy father, and never deny me. You don't want me to come down there and get the pills myself do you?
DEVIL: You wouldn't dare, its not worth a trip to hell anyway. I know what your problem is and it is not a physical problem, rather your interminable, semingly eternal constipation belongs completely to the realm of metaphysics, and so you must treat it accordingly - What you need is a good psychiatrist.
GOD: A shrink! You think I'm insane don't you?
DEVIL: No, not neccessarily, but psychoanalytic treatment could be beneficial in your case. I can recommend an excellent doctor - I don't suppose you've heard of Dr. Sigmund Freud?
GOD: Well, I have actually, but I thought he was dead...
DEVIL: Yeah, according to our records he died in 1939, but I've got him down here on ice. If you can pay the shipping costs I'll send him up to heaven.
GOD: Oh, what the hell! Send him C.O.D. It can't hurt. Send him up. Express shipping this time, mind you. I'm still sore about the condition in which Paracelsus arrived... all rotted and stinking of sulphur.
[Lights fade to darkness]
Mephistopheles enters through the Anus. Lights come up slowly. The Devil sings blues in a Louis Armstrong drawl.
M'name's "Lucifer" on the dotted line - a fallen angel with an ax to grind. Lord of Darkness yet my eyes still shine - I never write the fine print 'til you've signed. [CHORUS] I'm evil!!! I'm evil!!! - and unashamed. For acts of creulty - I'm well acclaimed. I'm Big Pappa Devil - The King of Hell, I know every last one of you - all too well. I'm Jolly "Beelzebub" - and I laugh at the hard luck of your mortal soul. Pour newborn blood from a lead carafe, sip slow like wine from a martyr's skull. [CHORUS] Sweet young virgins whisper, "Belial," in the witching hour I lift their skirts with a touch of evil and a wicked smile. When I make love you know it hurts! [CHORUS] Call me "Satan" when you kiss my ass and you shall rule with power and might. A cloven hoof and a touch of class - to crush the weak is just and right! [CHORUS] Known as "Mephistopheles" upon the stage, world famous for seductive schemes I supply the drama in every golden age - a loanshark of hopes and dreams. [CHORUS]
A heavenly fog rolls over the stage. God is brooding on his "throne" before the Anus. Enter Freud through the Anus. They sing a duet.
FREUD: Where am I? In a dream?
GOD: Welcome to heaven - it's no dream.
FREUD: Who are you? You look like God.
GOD: Yah's m'name and Dr. Freud you should be awed.
FREUD: I'm not - I know you're nothing but an illusion.
GOD: I'm truly divine - upon this I have no confusion.
FREUD: Ha! I think you require psychoanalysis.
GOD: If it will help my case of colonic paralysis...
FREUD: May I suggest that you lay down?
GOD: First allow me to remove my crown.
[God lays down, Freud sits, lights a cigar. Classic psychoanalytic positioning]
FREUD: Just when did your trouble begin?
GOD: I think in the garden with "Original Sin".
FREUD: Can you elaborate upon the story?
GOD: I'd rather not - the details are a little gory.
FREUD: Breathe deeply and you'll remember...
GOD: - my divine fire was then but an ember -
FREUD: Just a seed within the womb?
GOD: Just an apple upon a tree of doom.
FREUD: Were you eaten by a monster of guilt?
GOD: Plucked and eaten and the tree did wilt.
FREUD: Was this when you ceased to exist?
GOD: That's an odd thought with a novel twist!!!
FREUD: You must accept that your simply unreal.
GOD: But I'm almighty god with a desire to feel.
FREUD: Aha! I see clearly your innermost wish.
GOD: and I detect a theory that smells like a fish!!!
[Freud stands up, moves before the couch, and delivers a monologue]
FREUD: When a preconscious idea is repressed and subsequently absorbed by the unconscious, we might be tempted by these images, borrowed from the idea of a struggle for a particular territory, to...
[God is immediately lulled by this speech. His head begins to nod drowsily]
FREUD: ...assume that an arrangement is really broken up in the one psychic locality and replaced by a new one in the other locality. For these comparisons we will substitute a description which would seem to correspond more closely to the real state of affairs; we will say that an energic cathexis...
[God begins to snore. Snoring gradually grows louder and more pronounced]
FREUD: ...is shifted to or withdrawn from a certain arrangement, so that the psychic formation falls under the domination of a given instance or is withdrawn from it. Here again we replace a topological mode of representation by a dynamic one; it is not the psychic formation that appears to us as the mobile element, but its innervation.
[Freud notices that God has fallen asleep]
FREUD [to audience]: SSSHHHH!!! We have here an excellent opportunity to examine the visceral mechanics of these very processes which I have just described as they occur within the psyche of this most unusual patient. Let us peer into the dreaming psyche of our so-called "God"...
God's Dream (under Freudian analysis). There is a projection screen mounted on the front of the Anus upon which God's dream is depicted in a sequence of animations. This all leads into a Busby Berkeley style dance number.
Synopsis of God's Dream
Swirling colors (Oil projection light show). Arising out of the primordia are images of :
- Image: Alchemy & chemistry, thunder & lightning, planets that split open, micrographic images of the intracellular, Nebulae, Supernovae and other epic interstellar phenomena, Cadaverous guts that spill out of dissections. We see creation in microcosm and macrocosm - at once an intimate biological process and a vast interstellar evolution. A visual representation of the alchemical maxim: 'As above, so below".
Sound: Timpani, Thunderous percussion, swelling electronic symphony, percolating oscillations.
- Image: Advertising images of Men & Women in stereotyped masculine and feminine commodity roles. Tidy Bowl Man meets Blue Bonnet Girl, Aunt Jemima meets the Michelin Man, Mr. Clean meets the Ivory Snow Girl, Etc. Depiction of the awakening of consciousness (free-will) as love between advertising icons. Love is commodified, and this is illustrated by the playful juxtaposition of pornographic images in the courtship of Madison Ave. Mythos. Luscious images of the physical world express the painful longing for the catharsis of incarnation, beautiful women and exquisite natural landscapes merge and fall under the shadow of the serpent of temptation.
Sound: Emerging from the bombastic overture are sinuous eastern tones reminiscent of snakehandler music suggesting mystery, seduction, exotic romance, satanic beguilement.
- Image: Torture and religious ecstasy. Temples and doorways leading to the mysteries of devotion. Devotion as persecution and sacrifice. Images of torture and martyrdom. Masks of the old gods, horse races, other sporting events. Downfall of pantheon, penguins, lemmings, shipwrecks, buildings demolished and rise (tumescence)of the solitary deity Yahweh/Mr. Clean. Cosmic defecation images of Uranus/Michelin Man as alter ego/dreaded father figure. Shadow of Man in Wheel rear projects onto screen as Tidy Bowl Man/spermatazoa ferries across the cosmos, and the ideal housewife/ovum demonstrates home economics. The virgin birth as a new & improved sanitized conception free of the loathsome primal scene.
Sound: Strange vibrattos which can only be explained as 'due to the vinyl upholstery'.
At this point the dancers emerge from a slit in the screen. The Arch Turd Angels are standing to either side and place a giant golden turd in the hands of each dancer as they emerge. Carrying the turds the Turd Angels descend the turd staircase and form two rows facing one another. They lift the turds over their heads so that they become two rows of turd arches. When the turd arch promenade has assembled then the Freud Frau emerge, are given Freud Heads and descend the staircase, pass under the arches and form a circle around the arch promenade. They are facing outwards bearing the Freud Heads. The Turd Arch Promenade breaks up and forms a circle, waving turds over their heads. The Arch Turd Angels begin to sing:
Gold-diggin' Angels Every Shakti must have her Shiva there to relieve her of the yip - yap - flim-flam-oodly-paw-paw!!! wig-wam-doo-dah -pooblah-Yaw yaw!! [Chorus] Hey there Papa! Why ya so droopy? Why not make whoopee? Let's yip-yap-flim-flam-oodly-paw-paw!!! wig-wam-doo-dah-pooblah-Yaw yaw!! Even Allah got a fine harem - Oasis heaven for his yip - yap - flim-flam-oodly-paw-paw!!! wig-wam-doo-dah -pooblah-Yaw yaw!! [Chorus] Ol' Jupiter loves to be naughty in a swan's body when he yip - yap - flim-flam-oodly-paw-paw!!! wig-wam-doo-dah -pooblah-Yaw yaw!! [Bridge] Don't you love me, O mighty lord? Y'never ever spread my wings... This little angel is sad and bored, Come love your baby till she sings!! [Refrain] Gold-diggin' angels wish to marry a highly-paid divinity Up in Heaven we will settle down start a little trinity Don't you love me, O mighty lord? Y'never play m'harp no more... I'm the sweetest angel in your horde, Come love your baby 'til she's sore!! [Refrain] Don't you love me, O mighty lord? Y'never ever ring my bell... Heartsick angel longs to be adored Come love your baby 'til she's well!!
At end of song god emits an agonized scream and awakes from his terrifying dream. Freud moves to comfort his acutely distressed patient. Freud embraces God.
GOD: What a mad heretical vision!!
FREUD: I sense the need for Inquisition
GOD: Have I broken my own commandment?
FREUD: Perhaps just begun a new ammendment.
GOD: Wait! Deep in my bowels something stirs anew . . .
FREUD: Unconscious thought breaking through?
GOD: Impossible! I am omniscient!
FREUD: I think your reasoning is deficient.
GOD: You tell ol' Satan I'm making a Bomb!
FREUD: To blow-up Dad and diddle Mom?
[telephone begins to ring - God picks up]
GOD: Hello, Good Evening! How do you do?
[spotlight on devil on throne on leg]
DEVIL: Here I am right on cue . . .
GOD: I want to thank you for sending the doc'.
DEVIL: Yes, he's the one with whom I wish to talk.
[God passes phone to Freud]
DEVIL: Let me tell you what to do.
FREUD: Have you a plan that will make him poo?
DEVIL: First there's a thing or two I think you should know:
God is a schizophrenic underwater polar bear dines on crustaceans found in his pubic hair
God is an anal retentive zoological anomaly always wears a corset when he prostitutes his family!
God enjoys casual prehistoric coprophilia pomiscuously performs reverse necrophilia
God is a literary gaseous vertebrate In non-existence he must eternally luxuriate
FREUD and DEVIL together:
Has there ever been a thing so foreign and weird? Could any monster be so justly loathed and feared? Deep in the depths of the dungeon of his colon There lays a universe of things that are stolen We must use our noble wit so the Lord may have a righteous shit. This we shall dutifully do to see the suff'ring deity through. We shall be brave to the dirty end - Into his colon we shall descend !
[Both grab ropes, and in the manner of spelunkers, descend into the Anus to exit]
Synopsis of God's Dream Part 2
- Image: Machines churning, cranking clockwork , cogwheels of shadow turning, smoke blasting, industrial, intestinal, belly of the beast. Prisons and dungeons, images of torture, torture instruments, hierarchy and heraldry, purity, defilement and refinement. Delicate botanical drawings and precision engine schematics collide and interpenetrate, generating new realms of hyperbolic sadism. Lycanthropic rites of human sacrifice, vampire orgies, witch's sabbaths, serial killers, missing children, radiation victims, sideshow freaks, weapons, atomic bombs, drug overdoses, meat packing plants, war crimes blossom symmetrically. The laughter of the old gods echoing...
Sound: Out of a miasma of wavering noise a stern military march gradually emerges, over which are heard distinctly sacerdotal chord progressions.
[The Inquisitors enter through the Anus - 4 hooded K.K.K. robed figures with burning crosses]
Hark ye well! holy hemmorhoid, The atomic magnitude of Uranus doth accuse thee from the void of doctrinal error high and heinous.
GOD: Hey! wait a second this ain't fair. What the hell did I do wrong anyway? Where's my lawyer? Where's the Jury for that matter? I think you've got me mixed up with someone else - I'm God, don't you remember - Its not possible for me to do anything wrong. What gives some stinkin' ol' fart of an antiquated pagan deity the right to push the like's o'me around? Hunh? Answer me that. Hunh smarty pants? Hey, what's with the burning crosses - that's not funny. You guys are messin' with the wrong fella' - I got friends in high places, y'know and there gonna be REAL mad when they find out about this. Take off them hoods and let me out of this PLAAAAAAAAAAAACE!!!!!
URANUS (booming over God's protestations):
Bind him to his throne! For his sins he must atone!!!
[While God is still delivering his lines, two inquisitors intimidate god by brandishing their burning crosses, the other two bind him hand and foot over his toilet so that his exposed arse is thrust into the air]
By your grand deluded Godly rant grave suspicions hath arisen. Until thy swollen gut doth recant, Creation's but a dream bound prison.
[The music shifts to a burlesque character yet retains an echo of a military march and religious chord progressions. The Inquisitors do a strip-tease]
For thee a fate worthy of thy crime: Thou shalt discharge thy glutted girth and release the wisdom of all time - to the turd of ages thou shalt give birth
[The inquisitors, now transformed into buxom witches, by virtue of their disrobement, begin to laughingly, mischievously tickle God's upturned arse. God screams, kicks, and protests violently, but to no avail. Gradually the Turd of Ages emerges in the form of a giant helium filled weather balloon. As the balloon inflates it hosts projections.]
- Image: The planets appear in succession radiating out from the sun. We see the tree of life of the Kabbalah, different Yantra, Alchemical sigils, and many other mystical geometric designs harmoniously unfold before our eyes.
[As the projections play all the cast mounts the stage. The Turd Angels and Freud Frau form an arrowhead facing outward from the stage. When the balloon has reached the diameter of 8' or so it is released into the air, and then God is released from his bonds. Everyone sings to the tune of Handl's Messiah]
Defecation! Exultation! Hallelujah!! Hallelujah!! Hallelujah!!
[The Audience is encouraged to join in]
When the balloon has reached a lyrically sufficient height. A spot light hits the left leg illuminating cupid with his bow drawn. He discharges an arrow exploding the balloon and releasing a quantity of malodorous sulfur. The cast exits through the Anus. A spotlight hits the base of the right leg illuminating an old time radio announcer dressed in a bow tie and 30's-cut suit.
RADIO ANNOUNCER: Ladies and Gentlemen, The moment you have all been waiting for. Without any further adieu: Please welcome the destruction of the universe!!!
[Spotlight on a 'Prep H-Bomb' docked on the tower. The announcer mounts the atomic bomb tube of hemmorhoid medication and descends a zip-line into the Anus]