SEARCHING FOR THE INNER MAN

Ah've never been incarcerated for junk. However, loads ay cunts have had stabs at rehabilitating me. Rehabilitation is shite; sometimes ah think ah'd rather be banged up. Rehabilitation means the surrender ay the self. Ah've been referred tae a variety of counsellors, wi backgrounds ranging fae pure psychiatry through clinical psychology to social work. Doctor Forbes, the psychiatrist, used non-directive counselling techniques, basing his approach largely on Freudian psychoanalysis. This involved getting us tae talk aboot ma past life and focus oan unresolved conflicts, the assumption presumably bein that the identification and resolution ay such conflicts will remove the anger which fuels ma self-destructive behaviour, that behaviour manifesting itself in ma use ay hard drugs. A typical exchange: Dr Forbes: You mentioned your brother, the one with the, eh, disability. The one that died. Can we talk about him? (pause) Me: Why? (pause) Dr Forbes: You're reluctant to talk about your brother? Me: Naw. It's just that ah dinnae see the relevance ay that tae me bein oan smack. Dr Forbes: It seems that you started using heavily around the time of your brother's death. Me: A loat happened aroond that time. Ah'm no really sure how relevant it is tae isolate ma brar's death. Ah went up tae Aberdeen at the time; the Uni. Ah hated it. Then ah started oan the cross-channel ferries, tae Holland. Access tae aw the collies ye could hope fir. (pause) Dr Forbes: I'd like to go back to Aberdeen. You say you hated Aberdeen? Me: Aye. Dr Forbes: What was it about Aberdeen you hated? Me: The University. The staff, the students and aw that. Ah thought they were aw boring middle-class cunts. Dr Forbes: I see. You were unable to form relationships with people there. Me: No sae much unable, as unwilling, although ah suppose it means the same, for your purposes (noncommittal shrug fae Dr Forbes) ... ah hudnae any interest in any fucker thair. (pause) Ah mean ah didnae really see the point. If ah wanted a blether, ah'd go tae the pub. If ah wanted a ride ah'd go tae a prostitute. Dr Forbes: You spent time with prostitutes? Me: Aye. Dr Forbes: Was this because you lacked confidence in your ability to form social and sexual attachments with women at the University? (pause) Me: Naw, ah did meet a couple ay lassies. Dr Forbes: What happened? Me: Ah wis only interested in sex, rather than a relationship. Ah didnae really huv the motivation tae disguise that fact. Ah saw these women purely as a means ay satisfying ma sexual urges. Ah decided it wis mair honest tae go tae a prostitute instead, rather than play a game ay deception. Ah wis quite a moral fucker in these days. So ah blew ma grant money oan prostitutes, and nicked food and books. That's what started the thievin. It wisnae really the junk, though that obviously didnae help. Dr Forbes: Mmmm. Can we go back to your brother, the one with the handicap. How did you feel about him? Me: No really sure ... look, the guy wis jist ootay it. He wisnae thair. Totally paralysed. Aw he'd dae wis tae sit in that chair wi his heid turned tae the side. Aw he could dae wis blink n swallow. Sometimes he made wee noises ... he wis like an object, rather than a person. (pause) Ah suppose ah resented um whin ah wis younger. Ah mean, ma Ma would just take um oot in this pram. This big, outsized thing in a fuckin pram, likes. It made me n ma big brar, Billy, the laughin stock wi the other kids. Wid git: 'You brother's a spastic' or 'Your brother's a zombie' and aw that sortay shite. Jist bairns, ah ken, but it doesnae seem like that at the time. Because ah wis tall n awkward as a wee laddie, ah started tae believe thit thir wis something wrong wi me n aw, that ah wis somehow like Davie ... (long pause) Dr Forbes: So you felt a resentment towards your brother. Me: Aye, as a bairn, a wee ladie, like. Then he went intae the hospital. Ah suppose it wis, likes, problem solved, ken. Sortay ootay sight, ootay mind. Ah visited um a few tmes, but thir didnae seem tae be any point. Nae interaction, ken? Ah jist saw it as a cruel twist ay life. Perr Davie goat dealt the shitest possible hand. Fuckin sad, but yet cannae greet aboot it fir the rest ay yir puff. He wis in the best place fir um, gittin well looked eftir. Whin he died, ah felt guilty aboot resentin um, guilty aboot mibbe no huvin made a bit mair ay an effort. What kin ye dae though? (pause) Dr Forbes: Have you talked about these feelings before? Me: Naw ... well, mibbe mentioned it tae ma Ma n faither ...... That was how it used tae go. A loat ay issues brought up; some trivial, some heavy, some dull, some interesting. Sometimes ah telt the truth, sometimes ah lied. When ah lied, ah sometimes said the things that ah thought he'd like tae hear, n sometimes said something which ah thought would wind him up, or confuse him. Fucked if ah could see the connection between any ay that and me takin smack, but. Ah did learn a few things though, based oan Forbe's disclosures and ma ain researches into psychoanalysis and how ma behaviour should be interpreted. Ah have an unresolved relationship wi ma deid brother, Davie, as ah huv been unable tae work oot or express may feelings about his catatonic life and subsequent death. Ah have oedipal feelings towards ma mother and an attendant unresolved jealousy toward ma faither. Me junk behaviour is anal in concept, attention-seeking, yes, but instead of withholding the faeces tae rebel against parental authority, ah'm pittin smack intae ma body tae claim power over it vis-a-vis society in general. Radge, eh? Aw this might or might no be true. Ah've pondered ower a loat ay it, and ah'm willing tae explore it; ah don't feel defensive aboot any ay it. However, ah feel that it's at best peripheral tae the issue ay ma addiction. Certainly, talking about it extensively has done fuck all good. Ah think Forbes is as scoobied as ah am. Molly Greaves, the clinical psychologist, tended to look at ma behaviour and ways of modifying it, rather than determining its causes. It seemed like Forbes had done his bit, now it was time tae get us sorted oot. That wis when ah started oan the reduction programme, which simply didnae work, then the methadone treatment, which made us worse. Tom Curzon, the counsellor fae the drugs agency, a guy wi a social work rather than a medical background, was intae Rogerian client-centred counselling. Ah went tae the Central Library and read Carl Roger's On Becoming A Person. Ah thought that the book wis shite, but ah huv tae admit that Tom seemed tae get us closer tae what ah believe the truth might be. Ah despised masel and the world because ah failed tae face up tae ma ain, and life's, limitations. The acceptance ay self-defeating limitations seemed then tae constitute mental health, or non-deviant behaviour. Success and failure simply mean the satisfaction and frustration ay desire. Desire can either be predominantly intrinsic, based oan oor individual drives, or extrinsic, primarily stimulated by advertising, or societal role models as presented through the media and popular culture. Tom feels that ma concept ay success and failure only operates on an individual rather than an individual and societal level. Due tae this failure tae recognize societal reward, success (and failure) can only ever be fleeting experiences for me, as tha experience cannae be sustained by the socially-supported condoning of wealth, power, status, etc., nor in the case ay failure, by stigma or reproach. So, according tae Tom, it's nae good tellin us that ah've done well in ma exams, or got a good job, or got off wi a nice burd; that kind ay acclaim means nowt tae us. Of course, ah enjoy these things at the time, or for themselves, but their value cannae be sustained because there's nae recognition ay the society which values them. What Tom's trying tae say, ah suppose, is that ah dinnae gie a fuck. Why? So it goes back tae ma alienation from society. The problem is that Tom refuses tae accept ma view that society cannae be changed tae make it significantly better, or that ah cannae change tae accommodate it. Such a state ay affairs induced depression on ma part, aw the anger gets turned in. That's what depression is, they say. However, depression also results in demotivation. A void grows within ye. Junk fills the void, and also helps us tae satisfy ma need tae destroy masel, the anger turned in bit again. So basically ah agree wi Tom here. Whair we depart is that he refuses tae see this picture in its total bleakness. He believes that ah'm suffering fae low self-esteem, and that ah'm refusing tae acknowledge that by projecting the blame oantae society. He feels that ma means ay emasculating the rewards and praise (and conversely condemnation) available tae me by society is not a rejection ay these values per se, but an indication that ah dinnae feel good enough (or bad enough) aboot masel tae accept them. Rather than come oot and say: Ah don't think ah have these qualities (or ah think ah'm better than that), Ah say: It's a loaday fuckin shite anywey. Hazel said tae us, jist before she telt us that she didnae wantae see us again, whin ah started using for the umpteenth time: - You just want tae fuck up on drugs so that everyone'll think how deep and fucking complex you are. It's pathetic, and fucking boring. In a sense ah prefer Hazel's view. Thir is an element ay ego in it. Hazel understands ego needs. She's a windae dresser in a department store, but describes hersel as a 'consumer display artist' or something like that. Why should ah reject the world, see masel as better than it? Because ah do, that's why. Because ah fucking am, and that's that. The upshot ay this attitude is that ah was sent tae this therapy/counselling shite. Ah didnae want aw this. It wis this or the jail. Ah'm startin tae think that Spud goat the soft option. This shite muddies the waters for us; confuses rather than clarifies issues. Basically, aw ah ask is that cunts mind their ain business and ah'll dae the same. Why is it that because ye use hard drugs every cunt feels that they have a right tae dissect and analyse ye? Once ye accept that they huv that right, ye'll join them in the search fir this holy grail, this thing that makes ye tick. Ye'll then defer tae them, allowin yerself tae be conned intae believin any biscuit-ersed theory ay behaviour they choose tae attach tae ye. Then yir theirs, no yir ain; the dependency shifts from the drug to them. Society invents a spurious convoluted logic tae absorb and change people whae's behaviour is outside its mainstream. Suppose that ah ken aw the pros and cons, know that ah'm gaunnae huv a short life, am ay sound mind etcetera, etcetera, but still want tae use smack? They won't let ye dae it. They won't let ye dae it, because it's seen as a sign ay thir ain failure. The fact that ye jist simply choose tae reject whit they huv tae offer. Choose us. Choose life. Choose mortgage payments; choose washing machines; choose cars; choose sitting oan a couch watching mind-numbing and spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food intae yir mooth. Choose rotting away, pishing and shiteing yersel in a home, a total fuckin embarrassment tae the selfish, fucked-up brats ye've produced. Choose life. Well, ah choose no tae choose life. If the cunts cannae handle that, it's thair fucking problem. As Harry Lauder sais, ah jist intend tae keep right on to the end of the road ...


_
Irvine Welsh's 'Trainspotting' (1993), page 181.

three audio cd mixes

movie => dream => message.

_

MOVIE : mostly indie : 21 tracks :

out of the races and onto the tracks - the rapture.
take me out - franz ferdinand.
thickfreakness - black keys.
movie script ending - death cab for cutie.
ensure your reservation - polyphonic spree.
new project - athlete.
harlem streets - immortal technique.
even so - rachael yamagata.
musicology - prince.
why i love you - prefuse 73.
anthems for a 17-year-old girl - broken social scene.
andy, you're a star - killers.
broken joystick - adam green.
best of jill hives - guided by voices.
i only have eyes for you - flamingos.
exchange - massive attack.
everything means nothing to me - elliott smith.
georgie shot johnnie - low flying owls.
simple twist of fate - bob dylan.
go or go ahead - rufus wainwright.
faraway swimmingpool - mum.
_

DREAM : mostly electronica : 13 tracks :

rsdio - autechre.
across the universe - beatles.
ralome - plaid.
nighty night - wagon christ.
galactic funk - dj spooky.
man who catches clouds - neotropic.
slipper suite - palm skin productions.
journey's homes - savath savalas.
kelly watch the stars - moog cookbook.
brazil - cornelius.
fluff master - venetian snares.
dream of evan and chan - postal service.
kalea morning - twine.
_

MESSAGE : mostly hip-hop : 17 tracks :

stir it up - tribe called quest.
ah yeah! - k.r.s. one.
industrial revolution - immortal technique.
the message - grandmaster flash and the furious five.
time - diverse.
straight outta compton - n.w.a.
accidents don't happen - el-producto.
frontier psychiatrist - avalanches.
'they' schools - dead prez.
get it together - beastie boys.
push on - nappy roots.
6th sense - common.
damn it feels good to be a gansta - geto boys.
accordian - madvillain.
seasons - cunnilinguists with masta ace.
thieves in the night - mos def and talib kweli.
swan lake - blackalicious.
_

secret of all games...

MAN IN BLACK

But if there can be no arrangement, then we are at an impasse.

VIZZINI

I'm afraid so -- I can't compete with you physically. And you're no match for my brains.

MAN IN BLACK

You're that smart?

VIZZINI

Let me put it this way: have you ever heard of Plato, Aristotle, Socrates?

MAN IN BLACK

Yes.

VIZZINI

Morons.

MAN IN BLACK

Really? In that case, I challenge you to a battle of wits.

VIZZINI

For the Princess?

The Man In Black nods.

VIZZINI

To the death?

Another nod.

VIZZINI

I accept.

MAN IN BLACK

Good. Then pour the wine.

As Vizzini fills the goblets with the dark red liquid, the Man In Black pulls a small packet from his clothing, handing it to Fizzini.

MAN IN BLACK

Inhale this, but do not touch.

VIZZINI
(doing it)

I smell nothing.

MAN IN BLACK
(taking the packet back)

What you do not smell is called iocane powder. It is odorless, tasteless, dissolves instantly in liquid, and is among the more deadlier poisons known to man.

VIZZINI

Hmm.

CUT TO:

VIZZINI,

watching excitedly as the Man In Black takes the goblets, turns his back. A moment later, he turns again, faces Vizzini, drops the iocane packet. It is now empty.

The Man In Black rotates the goblets in a little shell game maneuver then puts one glass in front of Vizzini, the other in front of himself.

MAN IN BLACK

All right: where is the poison? The battle of wits has begun. It ends when you decide and we both drink, and find out who is right and who is dead.

VIZZINI

But it's so simple. All I have to do is divine from what I know of you. Are you the sort of man who would put the poison into his own goblet, or his enemy's?

He studies the Man In Black now.

VIZZINI

Now, a clever man would put the poison into his own goblet, because he would know that only a great fool would reach for what he was given. I'm not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But you must have known I was not a great fool; you would have counted on it, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.

MAN IN BLACK
(And now there's a trace of nervousness beginning)

You've made your decision then7

VIZZINI

Not remotely. Because iocane comes from Australia, as everyone knows. And Australia is entirely peopled with criminals. And criminals are used to having people not trust them, as you are not trusted by me. So I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you.

MAN IN BLACK

Truly, you have a dizzying intellect.

VIZZINI

Wait till I get going! Where was I?

MAN IN BLACK

Australia.

VIZZINI

Yes -- Australia, and you must have suspected I would have known the powder's origin, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.

MAN IN BLACK
(very nervous)

You're just stalling now.

VIZZINI
(cackling)

You'd like to think that, wouldn't you?

(stares at the Man in Black)

You've beaten my giant, which means you're exceptionally strong. So, you could have put the poison in your own goblet, trusting on your strength to save you. So I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But, you've also bested my Spaniard which means you must have studied. And in studying, you must have learned that man is mortal so you would have put the poison as far from yourself as possible, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.

As Vizzini's pleasure has been growing throughout, the Man In Black's has been fast disappearing.

MAN IN BLACK

You're trying to trick me into giving away something -- it won't work --

VIZZINI
(triumphant)

It has worked -- you've given everything away -- I know where the poison is.

MAN IN BLACK
(fool's courage)

Then make your choice.

VIZZINI

I will. And I choose --

And suddenly he stops, points at something behind the Man In Black.

VIZZINI

-- what in the world can that be?

CUT TO:

THE MAN IN BLACK,

turning around, looking.

MAN IN BLACK

What? Where? I don't see anything.

CUT TO:

VIZZINI,

busily switching the goblets while the Man In Black has his head turned.

VIZZINI

Oh, well, I-I could have sworn I saw something. No matter.

The Man In Black turns to face him again. Vizzini starts to laugh.

MAN IN BLACK

What's so funny?

VIZZINI

I'll tell you in a minute. First, let's drink -- me from my glass, and you from yours.

And he picks up his goblet. The Man In Black picks up the one in front of him. As they both start to drink, Vizzini hesitates a moment.

Then, allowing the Man In Black to drink first, he swallows his wine.

MAN IN BLACK

You guessed wrong.

VIZZINI
(roaring with laughter)

You only think I guessed wrong --

(louder now)

-- that's what's so funny! I switched glasses when your back was turned. You fool.

CUT TO:

THE MAN IN BLACK.

There's nothing he can say. He just sits there.

CUT TO:

VIZZINI,

watching him.

VIZZINI

You fell victim to one of the classic blunders. The most famous is "Never get involved in a land war in Asia." But only slightly less well known is this: "Never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line."

He laughs and roars and cackles and whoops and is in all ways quite cheery until he falls over dead.

CUT TO:

THE MAN IN BLACK,

stepping past the corpse, taking the blindfold and bindings off Buttercup, who notices Vizzini lying dead.

The Man In Black pulls her to her feet.

BUTTERCUP

Who are you?

MAN IN BLACK

I am no one to be trifled with, that is all you ever need know.

He starts to lead her off the mountain path into untraveled terrain.

BUTTERCUP
(a final glance back toward Vizzini)

To think -- all that time it was your cup that was poisoned.

MAN IN BLACK

They were both poisoned. I spent the last few years building up an immunity to iocane powder.

And with that, he takes off...

after the first glass of vodka...

After the first glass of vodka
you can accept just about anything
of life even your own mysteriousness
you think it is nice that a box
of matches is purple and brown and is called
La Petite and comes from Sweden
for they are words that you know and that
is all you know words not their feelings
or what they mean and you write because
you know them not because you understand them
because you don't you are stupid and lazy
and will never be great but you do
what you know because what else is there?

- as planned : by frank o'hara