It is of this moment that we will be remembered… In our lifetime we’ve neared several "impossible dreams" but none quite like this; the dream of one man, one nation rising up to heights that were once unheard of, seemingly insurmountable. Now a new struggle begins, the precedent’s been set, and it’s up to us and the nuance of history to construct an even greater one. Yes. Yes. The unprecedented height of Martin Luther King Junior’s dream wrapped in immense struggle, awash in the blood of the black man, is now so tangible and so very near; unparalleled in the history of these United States where men and women are “free”, where they have the vote, where freedoms ring, where- Wait!
Hold on one goddamned second!
Son of a bitch! I think the film is rolling backward?
Or maybe the script was written from the last act forward?
Where’s the writer? Get the goddamned writer in here pronto!
There’s more than one? Well get them all in here!
Most of them are dead? Dead?
Well get me a fucking writer that breathes goddamnit!
What the hell is that supposed to mean,
‘Those that are alive don’t even know they’re the authors’?
What the hell is that supposed to mean, huh?
Sounds stupid! You’re fired! What do you mean I can’t do that?
I’m the damned director of this film!
What do you mean I’m not the director?
If I’m not then why am I sitting in this chair? Huh?
Who, besides me, is this hard up for cash?
So strapped that they’ll direct a movie that even Cinemax wouldn’t touch?
Huh, shithead? Tell me who?
‘Them’? Who? 'Them'? Who the hell is 'them'?
The people? All of them?
Holy Christ…
Is the budget big enough to pay this many extras?
What do you mean they’re not extras?
Leads? You mean everyone has a leading role?!
Oh. Oh. I get it.
Yes. I see now. The people. We the people.
This- this is the unfinished script,
written backward by ‘we the people’
without a director…
Well this is a hell of a fine way to find out.
I do feel better now. Yes.
It makes a hell of a lot more sense.
I mean what the hell else could explain such an unprecedented undertaking?
Otherwise it would be impossible.
But still…
How is it possible-
that in an age of such a shredded foundation,
that in an age of such unprecedented warring,
that in an age of such unequaled corruption and
terrible sadness that a moment as this could come?
How is it possible-
that we now proceed with this stunning milestone,
that we march onward in the footprints of revolution
though the course is not curved of our choosing
and the strident shriek of the dying cover our skies?
How is it possible-
with the end written before the bright and new beginning,
with our expectations rutted in dishonest obligation,
with the world’s eyes peering down into our shame
that our pathway is not ruled by immeasurable detonation?
How is it possible-
that the air that we scorch doesn’t blink or make a sound
as we push and shove our burning way through it
with sorrow at our flank speaking of others as mere fodder
for our wholly unrestrained hubristic nourishment?
How is it possible-
That this plot has begun at the end of such torturous ire,
at the back of gloom instead of the heart of illumination?
That this story even has words like hope and change within it
is certainly the most astounding thing of all!
Hold on one goddamned second!
Son of a bitch! I think the film is rolling backward?
Or maybe the script was written from the last act forward?
Where’s the writer? Get the goddamned writer in here pronto!
There’s more than one? Well get them all in here!
Most of them are dead? Dead?
Well get me a fucking writer that breathes goddamnit!
What the hell is that supposed to mean,
‘Those that are alive don’t even know they’re the authors’?
What the hell is that supposed to mean, huh?
Sounds stupid! You’re fired! What do you mean I can’t do that?
I’m the damned director of this film!
What do you mean I’m not the director?
If I’m not then why am I sitting in this chair? Huh?
Who, besides me, is this hard up for cash?
So strapped that they’ll direct a movie that even Cinemax wouldn’t touch?
Huh, shithead? Tell me who?
‘Them’? Who? 'Them'? Who the hell is 'them'?
The people? All of them?
Holy Christ…
Is the budget big enough to pay this many extras?
What do you mean they’re not extras?
Leads? You mean everyone has a leading role?!
Oh. Oh. I get it.
Yes. I see now. The people. We the people.
This- this is the unfinished script,
written backward by ‘we the people’
without a director…
Well this is a hell of a fine way to find out.
I do feel better now. Yes.
It makes a hell of a lot more sense.
I mean what the hell else could explain such an unprecedented undertaking?
Otherwise it would be impossible.
But still…
How is it possible-
that in an age of such a shredded foundation,
that in an age of such unprecedented warring,
that in an age of such unequaled corruption and
terrible sadness that a moment as this could come?
How is it possible-
that we now proceed with this stunning milestone,
that we march onward in the footprints of revolution
though the course is not curved of our choosing
and the strident shriek of the dying cover our skies?
How is it possible-
with the end written before the bright and new beginning,
with our expectations rutted in dishonest obligation,
with the world’s eyes peering down into our shame
that our pathway is not ruled by immeasurable detonation?
How is it possible-
that the air that we scorch doesn’t blink or make a sound
as we push and shove our burning way through it
with sorrow at our flank speaking of others as mere fodder
for our wholly unrestrained hubristic nourishment?
How is it possible-
That this plot has begun at the end of such torturous ire,
at the back of gloom instead of the heart of illumination?
That this story even has words like hope and change within it
is certainly the most astounding thing of all!
© 2008 mrp/tpm
