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letra de in the trees - mike keneally

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ophunji regards scambot as he sits captive in the underwater music lab, and prepares to fill his brain with more anti-campland propaganda

wrangthorn, galaxies away, looks upon ophunji and scambot, speaks some strange incantations, and sends them through the wall and flying towards dadunda, tied together with a red velvet sash

ophunji is troubled by this situation. he’s tweaked no dials to send himself flying. he suspects that he is manipulated, just as surely as he’s been manipulating scambot (who is also troubled to find himself suddenly flying and flapping and tied to ophunji)

kootch is in his little bunk on the quiet children’s yacht, trying to get some sleep. not working: between his seasickness and his self-loathing, he keeps crying and/or throwing up

scambot, ophunji and kootch:
the flucking madness of life
singing alone in the trees
dodging the hornets and bees

govin is happy to be flying and free. he remembers a melody that a critter once sang to him via telepathy

govin:
what can i do with this little car tune
offered to me by a helpful racc–n?

barno (looking frantically for some important paperwork he’s misplaced):
how can i find everything that i feel, oh to help the people help me help ophunji kneel, oh

bedelia (a quiet child, steering the qc yacht):
our cause is a flower blooming from a tiny seal

more quiet children:
and the world will see it grow
they will know what they should know, oh

barno:
i musta put it away, i musta put it away
i musta locked it in the bank for another day

more quiet children:
yes, the world will see it grow and grow and, and…

god (encouraging scambot):
what you are
is a part
of everything you’re doing

you’re a star
we’re the car
grab ahold and vroom

scambot (to the voices in his head which he has not yet identified as those of god):
who you are?
i’m a star?
i’m a rag, i’m ruin

ophunji:
i don’t know
where we’re goin’ and i feel that i’m not at the wheel anymore

kootch (loathing himself in his bunk):
all this jerkin’ off i been doin’
had led us down the road of ruin
(i’m sorry, ian)
the mediocracy boned and leeched me – woe!
but there’s a lesson if i let it teach me
this isn’t justice, it’s true
this is what not to do
guitar!

he tries to distract himself with an imaginary guitar solo, but fails as it turns into a brief, twisted ensemble statement

but every message
in every song and film
and book and sculpture
or speech or painting
aura, play or sermon
or series and skit
psalm and dance
zen garden or mosaic in sp-ce
has brought me to this place:
a puking, crying face

govin (still flyin’):
what can i do with this little car tune
offered to me by the helpful racc–n?

god:
think it in d
reverently
there’s a idea that’s appealing to me

govin:
what will we do when we get to the yacht?
is what they’re needing a thing that i’ve got?

god:
you know your heart
you know you’re strong
you know what’s wrong

simultaneously:

ophunji and scambot fly haphazardly;

govin smoothly cuts through the air currents and grins;

bedelia navigates through some rough waters, while kootch gobbles dramamine and sobs;

and god claps their hands and dances, delighted by all of the above as they watch the livestream

meanwhile, corporal quaigo’s men arm themselves for the upcoming battle with the quiet children

quaigo’s men:
deadly confrontation is fun to eat
dehumanisation just can’t be beat
self-determination’s what we mistreat

ami is in the bunk above kootch’s, and can’t get any sleep for his noisy self-loathing

ami:
knock yer grousin’ on the head, boy
knock it on the head
leave your nightmares in the bed, boy

kootch:
i’m feeling the strain
i’m a boy in pain

ami:
fear don’t feel its soul
near the wolfpack pole
sacred dancing clown
we can take him down!
break the nutsh-ll crown!
sing aaaaaaoooooooeeeeeee –

she hands kootch a copy of the bhagavad gita for inspiration

take this!

barno (coming across a vital-looking doc-ment in the media lab):
what’s that?!

ophunji (startled by a bat, cutting him off in mid-air):
a flucking bat!

god (enjoying the close call with the bat):
oh joy!

kootch (still awash in self-pity in his bunk):
poor boy

corporal quaigo (on a aircraft carrier addressing his men):
deploy…ten hut!

quaigo’s men (suddenly hit by something from above):
wait, what?

surveillance seagulls (soaring above quaigo’s men and bombing them, as they sing the originating location of the offending substance):
our b-tt!

the quiet children (heads touching in a circle on their yacht):
sing om…

white-coated technicians (testing a sample of seawater, collected from where ophunji first captured scambot):
black foam?

jimmy garrison, hugh hopper, and jaco pastorius (arriving back in paradise after a gig in a mr. pibb machine in flagstaff):
we’re home

ms. loring (shaking her head at the piles of detritus in ophunji’s office, and at the life she’s arrived at – serving the whims of this dangerous, oafish nicomp–p):
why me?

wrangthorn (quivering with excitement, watching ophunji and scambot whoosh through the sky):
fly free

scambot (missing his old cat buddy):
my chee…

entire cast (responding to an unasked, but obvious question):
why not?
ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

in an alternate universe…

there is a dim, unfurnished room with billowing white curtains. outside, shifting colors undulate in the atmosphere

blenda ophunji, boleous’s late mother, walks into the room and sings. her voice undulates in the atmosphere as well

blenda:
“later. much later,” they said…
those were pretty much the last words i heard, and i’m not sure who said them

that’s when i saw the aliens
rolling down the alley at a thousand miles an hour

“trying too hard makes you a creep…”
no! it was actually “effort makes you a creepo.”
(i don’t know who said that either…)

words stream out simultaneously from three unknown voices in various parts of the room: “these are nuts, not…vitamins…” “that’s some slammin’ perceptivity, felix…” “why is it so dark in here? my name is not felix…” blenda ignores them and continues

it was one year after the summer of love
my faith was shaken, and shaking more
all systems and all subjects had failed me
spiritually, things were seesawing
nothing about any of it was unique
on i went. trying, trying

i felt weird

but something was happening, and i could tell it was ok, even with the aliens only a few inches away

that part was weird too

but i really finally could close my eyes, real tight and look way up hard into my cranium, feel it and do it for real, rise up off the ground and relax those shoulders and breath deep and other the city you go

meanwhile…

ophunji and scambot come in for a rough landing on dadunda, both of them bouncing off of trees and things, sustaining various comedy injuries

wrangthorn makes himself corporeal and appears before them, revealing himself as ophunji’s evil god/benefactor/puppeteer. he has to help them find the quiet children’s underground media lab before the qc’s yacht arrives

wrangthorn:
hey man
your evil god’s here, now
thought it was time to face-to-face it, now
and sing it like it’s a montage from an ’80s teen flick:

hey man
your time to shine is now
don’t need no evil god to show you how
aaaaaaahhhh…..

hey oaf!
y’think your life is odd…

ophunji:
i’d rather you not call me that, my god…

wrangthorn:
aw, toughen up
you need thick skin to take this job on, buddy

wrangthorn and ophunji:
now we’ll find
the qc mine

ophunji:
tell me one thing
was i ever in the running?
or was i just a fun thing?
a puppet for your whim?
way i was with him?

wrangthorn:
man, you’re super tiresome
but now i’ll let you spy something
behind the door…

- mike keneally

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