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SOMETIMES FUCK YOU TUMBLR. WHAT IS THIS SHIT. WE POST COOL ASS ART AND STORIES ALL DAY AND ALL YOU FOOLS ARE REBLOGGING THIS BORING ASS T-SHIRT. 

IF ONE OF THOSE 90,939 NOTES IS YOU, unfollow us. 

New Fiction: At the Pleiades Installation in Pittsburgh by Andrew Plattner 

As the play opens, the stage is dark. There are silhouettes of two men seated on fold-out chairs. The men are Steve and Carl; they are side by side. They face stage right. An empty chair is behind each seated man.

They sit in silence for two minutes. From offstage right there is a quick flash of faint blue light. It disappears as quickly as it arrived.

Carl: You see–

Steve: Quiet.A minute passes. One of the men clears his throat.

Carl: My eyes are starting to play tricks–

Steve: Please.A minute passes.

Carl: What are you thinking about?

Steve: (After a pause). I am thinking about a time in my life when I didn’t care about anything.

Carl: When was that?

Steve: Apparently never. It’s like I have this picture of myself as an eight-year-old right now and I was worried about things even back then. Getting stung by a wasp, why my grandfather wouldn’t let anyone in his house. I’ve always been worried about something. Look, I don’t think we’re supposed to be talking.

Carl: I didn’t see anything on the sign. It just said it was going to be dark in here. And there would be chairs.

Steve: But I think–Neither man speaks for a half a minute.

Carl: How long should we sit in here?

Steve: (Quietly) It’s supposed to run for fifteen minutes. It said on the sign. There isn’t any talking though, Carl.

Carl: (After a pause.) I’m out of work. I’m sitting in a big dark … theater … in the middle of the afternoon. I paid eight dollars to do this. I feel like talking.

Steve: You see it? Another flicker–

Carl: (After a pause.) This is my life–The men are quiet again.

Steve: I wonder–Offstage, there are voices. Then, from stage left, three silhouettes appear, two women and one man. They begin to move carefully for center stage.

Woman: I can’t see. I have my hands out in front of me. Rachel?

Rachel: I’m here. I’ve got you.

Woman: You’re pushing me.

Rachel: I don’t want you to be afraid.

Woman: Is your father back there?

Rachel: Behind me.

Woman: Why is … this is dangerous. Marvin?

Rachel: He’s behind me, Mom.

Woman: Why won’t he say anything?The man has been walking at a tepid pace behind the women. The distance between him and them grows. The women near center stage and, as this happens, the man turns and begins to walk for stage left. He exits.

Woman: Marvin?

Rachel: I think–

Woman: A continual disappointment.

Rachel: Mom.

Woman: I don’t need the light to see everything.They reach the chairs. The woman seems to be leaning forward as she moves. They move past the empty chairs. There is a commotion.

Carl: Whoa, watch–

Woman: Oh!

Carl: Get your–

Woman: Help me here!

Rachel: I’ve got you mother. Look, I’m sorry.

Steve: It’s all right.

Woman: I’m all right.Something falls to the floor.

Steve: My glasses. My ear.

Rachel: Trying to hold up my mother.

Carl: Everyone stop moving.A silence follows.

Carl: There’s a light that flickers on. If we wait, we can see what we’re doing.A silence follows.

Woman: God, OK. Where’s the light? Where’s your father?

Rachel: Allow your eyes to adjust.

Woman: They’ve adjusted.

Rachel: He left, I heard his footsteps.

Woman: (Faintly) I heard them, too. What is this? Where we are?

Carl: (After a pause.) It’s an installation.

Woman: He’ll be waiting outside. He’ll give me that helpless smile. (Her voice lessens.) He’s afraid of everything.

Rachel: Stop it.

Woman: It’s the truth.From offstage right, a light flickers, disappears.

Rachel: That was it?

Steve: We’ll … do without. Look, nobody move, please. Those glasses are–

Woman: I thought this was art.

Rachel: That’s my shoe.

Steve: I’m trying–

Rachel: And that’s my ankle. Goodness.

Steve: I still can’t–

Woman: Let me help.

Steve: Don’t move!

Rachel: Hey, you’re holding on–

Steve: I’m using your foot as my base of operations.

Rachel: I saw a little flash there. Mother, you see that?

Woman: I’m trying–

Steve: Got ‘em.

Carl: You OK?

Steve: Ah, there’s a little chip in a lens. Sorry for any needless touching.

Rachel: Yes.

Carl: Empty seats are behind us.

Woman: What do we do, sit in the darkness?

Carl: That’s what we are doing.

Woman: I don’t need to experience that. (Quietly) I want to go. Should we wait for the little flash or whatever and make a run for it?

Rachel: I can walk you back. I … I think I have a sense of where we came in.

Woman: Oh, all right. Careful with me, dear.

Rachel: You’re fine. Here, I’m at your side.Their silhouettes approach stage left. From stage right the faint light flashes. It’s gone again.

Woman: Oh. I felt it.

Rachel: (Murmuring) You felt a light?

Woman: (Quietly) I’ll be so disappointed to see your father out there.

Rachel: What has gotten into you?

Woman: When will things change?

Rachel: There’s the exit. I’ll be right along. I just want to see what it’s–

Woman: There’s nothing to see. Just things to feel. That’s what the artist is saying.

Rachel: I want to stay.

Woman: I’ve seen everything!

Rachel: Right through there, Mother.A moment later, Rachel moves in the direction of the chairs. Her steps are measured. As she nears the chairs, she has both hands out. She finds her way, takes a seat behind Steve without incident. The three of them sit for a time in complete darkness.

Steve: (Facing straight ahead) Your mom is OK?

Rachel: She’s had a long day already. (Pause) They read about this in the paper. They are trying to find different things to do. But, I don’t know if this is possible.A silence follows.

Rachel: (Quietly) I don’t want to grow old with anyone.A silence follows.

Carl: (Quietly) Can you see through those glasses? (After he doesn’t get a response.) I guess it doesn’t–

Steve: I took them off, they’re in my pocket.

Rachel: I’ll be happy to pay.

Steve: No. It’s an old prescription, anyway.A longer silence follows.

Rachel: (Quietly) I feel lost.

Carl: (Quietly) It takes a few minutes to kick in. Then it starts to get interesting. Hey, Steve. Steve?

Steve: I’m here.The three of them sit in silence.

Rachel: (Quietly) Tell me what happens.A silence follows.

Steve: I think the idea is that you sit here and when there is a little flicker of light, you are supposed to feel grateful among other things.

Rachel: I want to know what happens. Not what to feel.

Steve: Pardon–

Carl: This is it.They sit in silence again.

Rachel: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.

Carl: He’s that way, don’t worry. He’s bossy … gets excited when he thinks he knows something.

Steve: I am not like that.

Rachel: Is there supposed to be talking? I mean, this much talking?

Carl: I’m quiet when I have work to do. Real work.

Steve: You’re obsessed with work. Whether you have it or not.A silence follows.

Carl: I suppose so.A silence follows.

Rachel: (Quietly) If my mother sticks her head back in here and asks for me, says my name, will one of you please tell her I’m not here?

Steve: Honestly.

Rachel: Yes. I’m twenty-seven years old and hiding from my parents.

Steve: This isn’t hiding.

Carl: There he goes.

Rachel: I’m their ride.A silence follows. It goes on for a minute. The darkness seems to tighten on the stage. There aren’t any more flashes of light.

Steve: (Quietly) No one is here.

Carl: Not a soul.

Rachel: Shh.A silence follows. It lasts for a minute.

The play ends.

Read it: http://theneweryork.com/at-the-pleiades-installation-in-pittsburgh-andrew-plattner/ High-res

New Fiction: At the Pleiades Installation in Pittsburgh by Andrew Plattner

As the play opens, the stage is dark. There are silhouettes of two men seated on fold-out chairs. The men are Steve and Carl; they are side by side. They face stage right. An empty chair is behind each seated man.

They sit in silence for two minutes. From offstage right there is a quick flash of faint blue light. It disappears as quickly as it arrived.

Carl: You see–

Steve: Quiet.

A minute passes. One of the men clears his throat.

Carl: My eyes are starting to play tricks–

Steve: Please.

A minute passes.

Carl: What are you thinking about?

Steve: (After a pause). I am thinking about a time in my life when I didn’t care about anything.

Carl: When was that?

Steve: Apparently never. It’s like I have this picture of myself as an eight-year-old right now and I was worried about things even back then. Getting stung by a wasp, why my grandfather wouldn’t let anyone in his house. I’ve always been worried about something. Look, I don’t think we’re supposed to be talking.

Carl: I didn’t see anything on the sign. It just said it was going to be dark in here. And there would be chairs.

Steve: But I think–

Neither man speaks for a half a minute.

Carl: How long should we sit in here?

Steve: (Quietly) It’s supposed to run for fifteen minutes. It said on the sign. There isn’t any talking though, Carl.

Carl: (After a pause.) I’m out of work. I’m sitting in a big dark … theater … in the middle of the afternoon. I paid eight dollars to do this. I feel like talking.

Steve: You see it? Another flicker–

Carl: (After a pause.) This is my life–

The men are quiet again.

Steve: I wonder–

Offstage, there are voices. Then, from stage left, three silhouettes appear, two women and one man. They begin to move carefully for center stage.

Woman: I can’t see. I have my hands out in front of me. Rachel?

Rachel: I’m here. I’ve got you.

Woman: You’re pushing me.

Rachel: I don’t want you to be afraid.

Woman: Is your father back there?

Rachel: Behind me.

Woman: Why is … this is dangerous. Marvin?

Rachel: He’s behind me, Mom.

Woman: Why won’t he say anything?

The man has been walking at a tepid pace behind the women. The distance between him and them grows. The women near center stage and, as this happens, the man turns and begins to walk for stage left. He exits.

Woman: Marvin?

Rachel: I think–

Woman: A continual disappointment.

Rachel: Mom.

Woman: I don’t need the light to see everything.

They reach the chairs. The woman seems to be leaning forward as she moves. They move past the empty chairs. There is a commotion.

Carl: Whoa, watch–

Woman: Oh!

Carl: Get your–

Woman: Help me here!

Rachel: I’ve got you mother. Look, I’m sorry.

Steve: It’s all right.

Woman: I’m all right.

Something falls to the floor.

Steve: My glasses. My ear.

Rachel: Trying to hold up my mother.

Carl: Everyone stop moving.

A silence follows.

Carl: There’s a light that flickers on. If we wait, we can see what we’re doing.

A silence follows.

Woman: God, OK. Where’s the light? Where’s your father?

Rachel: Allow your eyes to adjust.

Woman: They’ve adjusted.

Rachel: He left, I heard his footsteps.

Woman: (Faintly) I heard them, too. What is this? Where we are?

Carl: (After a pause.) It’s an installation.

Woman: He’ll be waiting outside. He’ll give me that helpless smile. (Her voice lessens.) He’s afraid of everything.

Rachel: Stop it.

Woman: It’s the truth.

From offstage right, a light flickers, disappears.

Rachel: That was it?

Steve: We’ll … do without. Look, nobody move, please. Those glasses are–

Woman: I thought this was art.

Rachel: That’s my shoe.

Steve: I’m trying–

Rachel: And that’s my ankle. Goodness.

Steve: I still can’t–

Woman: Let me help.

Steve: Don’t move!

Rachel: Hey, you’re holding on–

Steve: I’m using your foot as my base of operations.

Rachel: I saw a little flash there. Mother, you see that?

Woman: I’m trying–

Steve: Got ‘em.

Carl: You OK?

Steve: Ah, there’s a little chip in a lens. Sorry for any needless touching.

Rachel: Yes.

Carl: Empty seats are behind us.

Woman: What do we do, sit in the darkness?

Carl: That’s what we are doing.

Woman: I don’t need to experience that. (Quietly) I want to go. Should we wait for the little flash or whatever and make a run for it?

Rachel: I can walk you back. I … I think I have a sense of where we came in.

Woman: Oh, all right. Careful with me, dear.

Rachel: You’re fine. Here, I’m at your side.

Their silhouettes approach stage left. From stage right the faint light flashes. It’s gone again.

Woman: Oh. I felt it.

Rachel: (Murmuring) You felt a light?

Woman: (Quietly) I’ll be so disappointed to see your father out there.

Rachel: What has gotten into you?

Woman: When will things change?

Rachel: There’s the exit. I’ll be right along. I just want to see what it’s–

Woman: There’s nothing to see. Just things to feel. That’s what the artist is saying.

Rachel: I want to stay.

Woman: I’ve seen everything!

Rachel: Right through there, Mother.

A moment later, Rachel moves in the direction of the chairs. Her steps are measured. As she nears the chairs, she has both hands out. She finds her way, takes a seat behind Steve without incident. The three of them sit for a time in complete darkness.

Steve: (Facing straight ahead) Your mom is OK?

Rachel: She’s had a long day already. (Pause) They read about this in the paper. They are trying to find different things to do. But, I don’t know if this is possible.

A silence follows.

Rachel: (Quietly) I don’t want to grow old with anyone.

A silence follows.

Carl: (Quietly) Can you see through those glasses? (After he doesn’t get a response.) I guess it doesn’t–

Steve: I took them off, they’re in my pocket.

Rachel: I’ll be happy to pay.

Steve: No. It’s an old prescription, anyway.

A longer silence follows.

Rachel: (Quietly) I feel lost.

Carl: (Quietly) It takes a few minutes to kick in. Then it starts to get interesting. Hey, Steve. Steve?

Steve: I’m here.

The three of them sit in silence.

Rachel: (Quietly) Tell me what happens.

A silence follows.

Steve: I think the idea is that you sit here and when there is a little flicker of light, you are supposed to feel grateful among other things.

Rachel: I want to know what happens. Not what to feel.

Steve: Pardon–

Carl: This is it.

They sit in silence again.

Rachel: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.

Carl: He’s that way, don’t worry. He’s bossy … gets excited when he thinks he knows something.

Steve: I am not like that.

Rachel: Is there supposed to be talking? I mean, this much talking?

Carl: I’m quiet when I have work to do. Real work.

Steve: You’re obsessed with work. Whether you have it or not.

A silence follows.

Carl: I suppose so.

A silence follows.

Rachel: (Quietly) If my mother sticks her head back in here and asks for me, says my name, will one of you please tell her I’m not here?

Steve: Honestly.

Rachel: Yes. I’m twenty-seven years old and hiding from my parents.

Steve: This isn’t hiding.

Carl: There he goes.

Rachel: I’m their ride.

A silence follows. It goes on for a minute. The darkness seems to tighten on the stage. There aren’t any more flashes of light.

Steve: (Quietly) No one is here.

Carl: Not a soul.

Rachel: Shh.

A silence follows. It lasts for a minute.

The play ends.

Read it: http://theneweryork.com/at-the-pleiades-installation-in-pittsburgh-andrew-plattner/
Flat Coke Insomnia Poster by Richard Penner at Nils Davey the cipher key
the cipher key

Stoked to announce a new poster by Richard Penner and Nils Davey

It’s a story about insomnia, so we devised a space-age cipher and now you can stay up all night and decode the story using the legend. 


Buy here in a bunch of different sizes and configurations: http://theneweryork.com/shop/product/flat-coke-insomania-richard-penner-poster/


Profit split with designer and author, sustainably printed.

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