O título da entrada dessa semana vem de uma antiga esquete de comédia do grupo "
Firesign Theater".
Famosos no final da década de '60 e no início da década de '70 para seu
humor subversivo, os Firesigns oferecem nessa peça uma
breve síntese de 400 anos de história indígena americana. O nome da peça
vem de uma placa que os membros do grupo encontraram numa manifestação
indígena na comarca de Humboldt em Califórnia: "Temporariamente a Comarca de Humboldt" era a
maneira dos índios avisar a civilização a sua volta que ela, também,
passará para a poeira da história.
"THC" (nota bem a
sigla) faz parte de um "triptyche" de três esquetes compondo uma visão
do passado, presente e futuro dos EUA. A peça que segue THC é "W.C.
Fields Forever", cujo título é uma combinação do título da música dos
Beatles "Strawberry Fields Forever" com o nome do comediante americano
do teatro de revista do início do Século XX,
W.C. Fields. Essa esquete retrata uma colônia hippie num
dude ranch no
oeste americano, liderado pelo "Dr. Tim" (i.e. Timothy Leary), um guru
que insiste que seus seguidores "meditam sobre a luz branca e pura da
estupidez". A esquete final é "Le Trente-Huit Cunegonde", que presenta
um futuro em que os hippies dominam os EUA e bombardeam seus inimigos
com três milhões de toneladas do livro
The Naked Lunch do autor
beat William S. Burroughs.
Vocês podem baixar ouvir as três esquetes
aqui, ou ouvir "Temporarily Humboldt County" no YouTube,
here.
Em outros assuntos, falamos muito sobre o livro/filme
O Sol É para Todos, onde dois modelos do branco americano típico aparecem: o bom e liberal advogado Atticus Finch e o "lixo branco" e racista Bob Ewell. O filme pode ser encontrado no Telecine Play,
aqui. Sugiro que vocês assistem em algum momento da próxima semana.
Segue abaixo (em inglês, infelizmente) o roteiro da peça "Temporariamente Humboldt County". Por favor, escutam a peça e tentam seguir o roteiro:
THE SCENE:
Against a backdrop of the prairies, two Indians watch a herd of buffalo passing by.
INDIAN: Well, I think it's about time - the way the corn's been growing for the last two or three generations.
SECOND INDIAN: Look at that herd of buffalo! They're ready!
INDIAN: Everything's living The Great Spirit's Way - in Harmony.
SECOND INDIAN: He'll be here soon.
INDIAN:
The True White Brother is coming home. Remember what the Great Spirit
said? If we did what we were supposed to do, and lived according to the
Plan, White Brother would finish his work in the East and come back to
us.
SECOND INDIAN: It'll be nice to have the family together again.
A Conquistador, a Padre and several Spanish soldiers enter to a trumpet fanfare and flamenco music. The buffalo scatter.
CONQUISTADOR: Buenos dias, amigos!
INDIAN: Hello! You must be The True White Brother!
CONQUISTADOR: Sure! You must be The Indians!
INDIAN: Yes!
SECOND INDIAN: Welcome Home!
All the Spanish soldiers cheer.
CONQUISTADOR: Welcome to New Spain! This is your new Father - Father Corona.
FATHER CORONA: Pax vneuti nicutm! down on your knees, now! D'ye recognize what I'm holidn' over your head, lads?
INDIAN: It's a Cross. The Symbol of the Quartering of the Universe into Active and Passive Principles.
FATHER CORONA: God have mercy on their heathen souls!
CONQUISTADOR: What the Father means is - what is the Cross made of? Gold! Have you got any?
INDIAN: No.
CONQUISTADOR: What about the Seven Cities of Gold? Phoenix, Tucson, Las Vegas?
SECOND INDIAN: This is gold.
CONQUISTADOR: What's that?
INDIAN: Corn.
SPANISH SOLDIER: Corn! Now we can make tortillas!
ANOTHER SPANISH SOLDIER: We been waiting for this for hundreds of years!
THIRD SPANISH SOLDIER: I just invented tacos!
CONQUISTADOR: So this is all you've got?
INDIAN: Yes, but aren't you The True White Bother who's supposed to come and live with us in peace?
CONQUISTADOR: Sure! Therefore, I claim this rich, verdant pasture land in the name of the Empire of Spain!
VESPUCCI: Hey! Hey, Capitano! The rain, she's a-stoppa to fall! And the corn, she's all dead!
CONQUISTADOR: Shuduppa', Vespucch! I claim this stinking desert in the name of the Empire of Spain. Forever! Let's go!
The Spanish soldiers grumble. The buffalo herd mills about.
SPANISH SOLDIERS: (singing) God bless Vespucciland! M-m-m-mmmmmm...
FATHER CORONA: Oh! By the way, Domini Domini Domini, you're all Catholics now! God bless you!
CONQUISTADOR: Come on, Father! No one in their right mind would live in this stinking desert!
THIRD SPANISH SOLDIER: Come on, Cisco!
The
Spaniards leave and the Indians hide as a wagon train enters. One
Pioneer plays "Oh, Susanna" on a harmonica. Another Pioneer speaks:
ANOTHER PIONEER: Boy! I'm tired o' pushin' West! How long ago'd we leave Goshen?
THIRD PIONEER: 'Bout two hours ago! Ain't we ever gonna stop?
PIONEER: Quiet down now, boys! Wagon Boss is gonna speak!
WAGON
BOSS: My fellow settlers! We stand here at the Edge O' Civilization, on
the banks of the Mississippi River, lookin' West, at Our Destiny!
PIONEER: You can say that again!
WAGON BOSS: What may appear to the fainthearted as a limitless expanse of Godforsaken wilderness...
THIRD PIONEER: Sure is!
WAGON
BOSS: ...is, in reality, a Golden Opportunity for humble, God-fearin'
people like ourselves, an' our families, an' our children, an' the
generations a-comin', to carve a new life - outta the American Indian!
The Indian comes out of hiding.
INDIAN: Welcome, White Brother!
WAGON BOSS: Injuns! Draw the wagons up into a circle!
INDIAN: Why do you always do that?
WAGON BOSS: We get better reception that way! Do you mind if I put this antenna up on yonder peak?
INDIAN: That's our Sacred Mountain.
WAGON BOSS: This is our Sacred Antenna! It's shaped like a cross! Made out of aluminum. Er... got any aluminum?
INDIAN: We've still got some corn left.
PIONEER: Hey! Corn! Now we can make whisky!
ANOTHER PIONEER: We've been waitin' hundreds o' years for this!
THIRD PIONEER: Say! I just invented a Tom Collins!
WAGON BOSS: Here, Injun! Ya want some firewater?
INDIAN: No. We were warned by our Elders not to drink anything that would make us weak or silly.
WAGON BOSS: (laughs) Put in their well!
INDIAN: That's not a well. It's the Eye of the Holy Serpent Mound, on which your standing.
WAGON BOSS: It's a beaut'!
INDIAN: No, it's a mound.
WAGON BOSS: And right purty, too! er- can ya' move it?
INDIAN: But - why?
WAGON BOSS: Railroad's comin' thru! Right now!
A railroad train loaded with cowboys and railroaders pulls in. The buffalo are scattered and the herd is split.
COWBOY: Hey! What're we stoppin' fer?
RAILROADER: Are we in Goshen Yet?
CONDUCTOR: Cain't go no further. This here's Injun Territory!
GOVERNMENT AGENT: Well, then! It's Treaty Time!
A brass band enters, playing "Hail to the Chief"
GOVERNMENT
AGENT: My fellow Redskins! Speaking for the Great White Father in
Washington and all the American People, let me say we respect you
savages for your Native Ability to instantly Adapt and Survive in
whatever Godforsaken wilderness we move you to. Out there. Sign here!
RAILROADER: They did it!
All the cowboys whoop and holler. The train and brass band leave. The Indian gets up on his pony.
INDIAN:
No reason to complain. It's not so bad out there. We still have our
People and our Ceremonies and the Sun, Moon and Stars, and the Sand and
the Black Stuff Coming Out Of The Ground...
GOVERNMENT AGENT: Black stuff coming out of the ground?
TRAILBLAZER: Civilization, ho-oooooooooooo!
A passle of Okies, dogs, model T's and dust storms passes by, leaving the Indian alone. The wind blows.
INDIAN: It's nice out here in the desert. No rain, no crops, no White Brother.
A Greyhound tour bus pulls up and the passengers file out.
BUS
DRIVER: All out for Fort Stinkin' Desert! Last Indian Reservation for
two thousand miles. You got fifteen minutes, folks! Get 'em while you
can!
Several shots ring out.
BUS DRIVER: Get the Senator back in the bus!
The Senator fires off more shots at the Indian as he is led away.
SENATOR: Godfrey Daniel! Pesky Redskins! Which way's Goshen?
TOURIST GUIDE:
Howdy there, Colorful Replica Of America's Past! When is the exciting -
in - its - primitive - splendor Snake Dance going to take place?
INDIAN: It's usually in August, but with all our children off in Indian School there's no one left to do the ceremonies.
Eddie gets off the bus.
EDDIE: Hiya, Pop! I'm home!
INDIAN: Hello, Soaring Eagle! It's good to have your back from school!
EDDIE: Aw, come on! Call me Eddie! I'm an American now!
INDIAN: What have they been teaching you?
EDDIE: Just what we need for a better life! French horn, Italian, water polo...
GOVERNMENT AGENT: Yes, at the Custer Memorial Indian School, Eddie's one of our Prize students. We're giving him away next week.
A Freak gets off the bus.
FREAK:
Hey, man! Don't let him bring you down, now. There's a lot of young
people in this country, just like myself, who really know where the
Indian's at. And don't worry. Soon we're all gonna be out here on the
Reservation, livin' like Indians, 'n' dressin' like Indians and doing
all the simple, Beautiful Things that you Indians do. Hey - got any
peyote?
RICH TOURIST: Say, how much is that necklace you're wearing?
LADY TOURIST: Does anybody here know how to do the War Dance?
TOURIST WITH CAMERA: Hold it! Smile.
RICH TOURIST: Isn't it amazing how they survive on this stinking desert?
LAUGHING TOURIST: Ya got any scalps?
TOURIST WITH CAMERA: Lemme get a shot of you and yer squaw!
RICH TOURIST: Let's see the War Dance!
LADY TOURIST: Let's see the Dance!
TOURISTS: Let's see the Dance! Dance! Dance! Dance! Dance!
The Indian dances in a circle as more shots ring out.
BUS DRIVER: OK! OK, folks! Fun's over! Back in the bus!
MOTHER: Where's little Billy Joe?
FATHER: He's in that run-down outhouse over there, Mamma!
INDIAN: That's our Sun Altar.
GOVERNMENT
AGENT: Well, Indian - just goes to show you there's an obvious need to
conserve our Priceless National Heritage. The Government is turning your
home into a National Monument!
The marching band gets off the buss, playing "America The Beautiful," followed by the Senator, who speaks:
SENATOR:
It behooves me, 'pon this Historic Occasion, to dedicate the Stinkin'
Desert National Historical Monument and Cobalt Testing Range!
TRAILBLAZER: Civilization, ho-ooooooo!
As
the Indian watches, the cobalt bomb goes off. The sound dies away after
a time, and the smoke clears, revealing the two Indians on horseback.
INDIAN:
Well, it's about time. There's been no corn growing for the last few
generations. The buffalo's gone. There's no(one) left to live in
harmony.
SECOND INDIAN: I wonder where we went wrong?
INDIAN:
Let's just keep to the Life Plan. Remember what The Great Spirit said.
"Follow the Peaceful Way." The True White Brother is bound to come.
An assistant movie director runs on, yelling through a megaphone.
ASSISTANT DIRECTOR: All right, Indians! Get ready!
A second assistant director follows, with a clap-stick.
SECOND ASSISTANT DIRECTOR: Winning Of The West. "The Massacre." Take four!
He claps the clap-stick to start a "take."
INDIANS: Well, let's go...
He joins a dozen other war-painted Indians who ride up beside him, and then they all gallop away into the sunset, whooping.
THE END
