Synecdoche: United States
I want you to stand, just there -- in orange tennis shoes, and you're going to talk for a long time. You're the hero. You might be President someday, they say.
You -- wander around the chamber aimlessly, shrugging your suitcoat, glare at her -- you're afraid, afraid of everything, but mostly afraid of change, and yourself, and your life. Try to stop her, and fail, because you know deep down inside that you're wrong, and it's all over for you -- it's the end of the mean little box your soul is rotting in -- stay with it -- you can't stop -- can't stop her, but try --
Now, you -- smirk while the other justice is talking. You're -- insane -- no, not insane, just evil -- no, not evil, just blank -- you're an alien. A crazy alien, playing games. And this one -- look at your boss, and nod, smile -- you're going to be remembered forever as one of the worst men ever, and you know it. But he's worse --
All right, now you -- flip everyone off. You're a cheater, a liar, a swindler, the worst kind of criminal, and you're the most powerful figure on the highest court in the land, and when most good people look at you, you look like the devil, because you've brought misery into so many lives, destroyed so many good things, good people, good memories -- the worst of the Very Worst, and you love yourself for your awful beauty, the writer of Pain --
Everyone, now -- so twisted up. Wrenched, shocked, frightened, shallow, lost -- too twisted right now to see straight -- we're hitting the moment -- breathe -- sigh -- so sad, so beautiful, so much joy and horror, you can't bear it from inside your tiny little life -- think about the Permian extinction -- now forget about all of it, think about your child, or your mom, or your lover, try to hold on --
You're gone. Someone else lives in your house now. Things are better for them, better and worse in ways, from the thousand little threads that everyone else has tied to everyone else, and it's all so sweet and sad and scene.
