(remix challenge) Ingmar Bergman [The Thinking Hat remix]
Title: Ingmar Bergman [The Thinking Hat remix]
Author: Torino Koji
Remix of: Ingmar Bergman is Dead by Nijiiro Sumi (虹色 墨) and Tougyo (闘魚)
Note: (see end)
They go to Mexico, where there is hot, dead air and endless skies that refuse to be anything other than spectrum blue or slate gray, and, for some reason, everyone speaks a surprising amount of English. Jared has to say, “I DON’T SPEAK SPANISH!” all of twice before everyone they talk to speaks English. Mason thinks Jared’s got more of a Jedi mind trick going on than he thinks.
The first person Mason sees who isn’t Jared who’s dead is a little girl and he spends two days sitting in the bathtub saying that the tree is alive and Spring has come again. Jared never asks.
This, clearly, is how it all happens. Mason can imagine, sitting in the bathtub, the sheer trauma of seeing the death or just the future of everyone that shares your airspace. He hopes it stops. He hopes the goddamn tree will go off and fucking die.
Jared goes to the beach and digs in his toes and Mason sits in the surf until it climbs all the way to the middle of his legs and the tops of his hips. He points at a guy down the beach throwing a Frisbee into the air and then catching it like some sort of retard. He looks at Jared and Jared shrugs.
“It happens.”
“Damnit.”
Mason doesn’t sit in the surf after that, because the idea of jellyfish and awkward places and all that, he can’t do it. At least Jared’s crazy was pretty confined. Or maybe not. They don’t really talk about it.
They don’t really talk about much.
Really, all they do is stand on the beach with their toes in the sand like they might grow roots, and fuck.
Standing in the line at the grocers one day, Mason looks up at the little check-out chick, and says, “You should get that rash looked at.” She looks up at him like he’s a full-on crazy, and he looks down at himself like he’s a full-on crazy. When he tells Jared, Jared laughs.
“I think I already told her that one.”
They stand on the beach one day, watching a man run with his dog, and it feels like California instead of Mexico, and maybe it is.
The rain in Spain is doing nothing for the tree growing in Mason’s mind. He touches Jared’s hand, and Jared grabs it until Mason’s fingers tingle and crackle and stiffen, and all Mason can think of is an apple tree and naked bodies and a snake that looks at him funny and says without making any sound Who’d want to corrupt you?
“Sand in funny places,” Jared mutters, and Mason laughs a full belly-laugh that makes people turn and stare.
They eat at a tiny little restaurant on the beach, where Mason showcases that all he knows in Spanish is uno mas cerveza, por favor. He’s the bastard American that everyone hates, but at least he’s not alone in it. Jared just keeps going, “I DON’T SPEAK SPANISH!” when they try. Mason cannot stop laughing.
And the tree grows a leaf, and a leaf, and the green grass grows all around, all around, and the green grass grows all around.
~
Note: We’ve been reading Waiting for Godot in Philosophy. And I’m possibly a little cracked. My thanks to Nijiiro Sumi and Tougyo for coming up with such a crazy concept, and allowing for this insane remix.
v
Author: Torino Koji
Remix of: Ingmar Bergman is Dead by Nijiiro Sumi (虹色 墨) and Tougyo (闘魚)
Note: (see end)
They go to Mexico, where there is hot, dead air and endless skies that refuse to be anything other than spectrum blue or slate gray, and, for some reason, everyone speaks a surprising amount of English. Jared has to say, “I DON’T SPEAK SPANISH!” all of twice before everyone they talk to speaks English. Mason thinks Jared’s got more of a Jedi mind trick going on than he thinks.
The first person Mason sees who isn’t Jared who’s dead is a little girl and he spends two days sitting in the bathtub saying that the tree is alive and Spring has come again. Jared never asks.
This, clearly, is how it all happens. Mason can imagine, sitting in the bathtub, the sheer trauma of seeing the death or just the future of everyone that shares your airspace. He hopes it stops. He hopes the goddamn tree will go off and fucking die.
Jared goes to the beach and digs in his toes and Mason sits in the surf until it climbs all the way to the middle of his legs and the tops of his hips. He points at a guy down the beach throwing a Frisbee into the air and then catching it like some sort of retard. He looks at Jared and Jared shrugs.
“It happens.”
“Damnit.”
Mason doesn’t sit in the surf after that, because the idea of jellyfish and awkward places and all that, he can’t do it. At least Jared’s crazy was pretty confined. Or maybe not. They don’t really talk about it.
They don’t really talk about much.
Really, all they do is stand on the beach with their toes in the sand like they might grow roots, and fuck.
Standing in the line at the grocers one day, Mason looks up at the little check-out chick, and says, “You should get that rash looked at.” She looks up at him like he’s a full-on crazy, and he looks down at himself like he’s a full-on crazy. When he tells Jared, Jared laughs.
“I think I already told her that one.”
They stand on the beach one day, watching a man run with his dog, and it feels like California instead of Mexico, and maybe it is.
The rain in Spain is doing nothing for the tree growing in Mason’s mind. He touches Jared’s hand, and Jared grabs it until Mason’s fingers tingle and crackle and stiffen, and all Mason can think of is an apple tree and naked bodies and a snake that looks at him funny and says without making any sound Who’d want to corrupt you?
“Sand in funny places,” Jared mutters, and Mason laughs a full belly-laugh that makes people turn and stare.
They eat at a tiny little restaurant on the beach, where Mason showcases that all he knows in Spanish is uno mas cerveza, por favor. He’s the bastard American that everyone hates, but at least he’s not alone in it. Jared just keeps going, “I DON’T SPEAK SPANISH!” when they try. Mason cannot stop laughing.
And the tree grows a leaf, and a leaf, and the green grass grows all around, all around, and the green grass grows all around.
~
Note: We’ve been reading Waiting for Godot in Philosophy. And I’m possibly a little cracked. My thanks to Nijiiro Sumi and Tougyo for coming up with such a crazy concept, and allowing for this insane remix.
v