Episode 13 - In Our Heads

Thanks for Hitting Play and then listening to Hit Play. This week: This week: TP thoughts, hopeless hats, texting trials, film feelings, and dirty dishes!

Some of the plays in this episode may contain sensitive topics. For more specific content warnings, check out the timecodes below.

If you like what you hear and want to support the New York Neo-Futurists, consider making a donation at nynf.org, or joining our Patreon. Patreon membership gives you access to bonus content like video plays! We’d really appreciate any support in these difficult times. Contributing to our Patreon helps us continue to pay our artists. 

Take care of yourself, learn to Tango, and share it with us on Instagram, Twitter, or Facebook.

1:37 - Walking you through something (stay with me on this one) by Robin Virginie

3:58 [cw: suicide] - Notes from Above the Underground by Katy-May Hudson

6:51 - I've been thinking a lot about text messaging by Michael John Improta

8:04 - Quarantine Movie Guide for Isolation Escapists by Michaela Farrell

10:47 [cw: past violence, death] - Dishes: Lessons from a Hometown True Crime Lifetime Original 

Our logo was designed by Shelton Lindsay

Our sound is designed by Anthony Sertel Dean

Joey Rizzolo designed and mixed the audio for Notes from Above the Underground, thanks Joey!

Léah Miller is our associate producer 

Hit Play is produced by Anthony Sertel Dean and Julia Melfi 

Take Care!

Transcript 

Episode 13: In Our Heads

Show Intro

Stompy and twinkly electronic instrumental music plays underneath.

Julia: 13. In Our Heads. I’m Julia Melfi—a New York Neo-Futurist. While our on-going, ever-changing, late-night show, The Infinite Wrench, is on hold for the foreseeable future, we wanted a place to keep making art for you. And thus, Hit Play was born!  

If you’re already a fan of The New York Neo-Futurists, or any of our sibling companies, hello! We can’t wait to give you a gentle kiss on the forehead, and whisper a sweet nothing into your ear. If this is totally new to you—welcome to it!

We play by four rules: We are who we are, we’re doing what we’re doing, we are where we are, and the time is now. Simply put: we tell stories, and those stories are our own. Everything that you hear is actually happening. So if we tell you we’re recording with our eyes closed because we have this part memorized, we’re really recording with our eyes closed because we have this part memorized. Like I am right now. 

Some of the plays in this episode may contain sensitive topics. For more specific content warnings, check the timecodes in the show notes.  

Julia: And now, Colin will Run the Numbers!

Colin: Hello I’m Colin, a New York Neo-Futurist Alum. 

In this episode we’re bringing you 5 plays. The first is by Robin Virginie. Next, a play from the vault by Katy-May Hudson recorded back in 2016. Then one by Michael John Improta, another by Michaela Farrell, and the last play is by me–Colin Summers.

That brings us to 55 audio experiments on Hit Play. Enjoy!

Music winds down.

Play 1: Walking you through something (1:37)

Robin: Walking you through something (stay with me on this one). GO!

Sound of echoey drips in the background. At first slow, and then turning into some kind of musical underscore. 

Robin: Okay. You know when you finish a roll of toilet paper and there are still some tiny pieces stuck to the roll? Sometimes, you finish a roll completely. A clean swoop. Those are incredible moments. But often, some paper gets left behind. These little patches of paper, sticking to the roll. “Who is this paper?” I wonder. And have these pieces become separate entities when I tore them apart or were they already a family of individuals?  

Here’s a theory: a pack of toilet paper is a small town. A single roll is an apartment building, a square is a household, and those little patches left behind? Those are the kids. Dina. John. Zack Jr. I think they’re teens. Maybe Zack Jr. is 20, it doesn’t really matter for this, let’s get back to the point. Dina, John, Zack Jr. Now they are left behind. Here’s the dilemma: I don’t know if this is sad or not. Did they want to be used? Have I deprived them of fulfilling their life’s purpose by not working hard enough to get them off the roll? Or do you think they might be relieved something else is in store for them, even if that something else might be worse? 

Another thing: who is the roll itself? We’ve talked so much about the paper we completely forgot about this cylindrical piece of cardboard holding together an entire universe. Its whole life consists of guiding tissue and then the cardboard is discarded. And that does make me sad, I think. The cardboard roll is the humblest part of toilet paper.

New question: should we start using the cardboard part to wipe as well? Flooded toilets everywhere but perhaps an emotional revolution for cardboard. But again. Maybe cardboard doesn’t want this. Maybe being a vehicle for paper is exactly what it wants and needs to be. Hm. 

This all might sound like a metaphor for something but I can assure you it’s not. Feel free to read into it though. I, myself love reading into things. Anyway, I wrote a song about all this. Haha Just kidding. No song. 

I’ll wrap it up. Maybe you’ll think of this the next time you finish a roll of toilet paper. Maybe you’ll think of Dina, John, Zack Jr. Or maybe you’ll think of me. Alright. Bye.

Drips fade out. 

Play 2: Notes from Above the Underground (3:58)

Katy-May: Notes from Above the Underground. GO!

Gentle organ-like chords underscore. 

Shelton: When did it start?

Katy-May: I don't know–I couldn't really feel a beginning to it, or a possible end either…

Shelton: How did it feel?

Katy-May: It felt uneasy, scary, lonely. Very lonely.

Shelton: What did you think it was?

Katy-May: I thought it was an awakening, actually. An epiphany without the positive connotation. Like the blinders had been removed and I could see things for how they were.

Shelton: And how was that?

Katy-May: Like I belonged to a world full of pain that everyone around me was ignoring. And ignoring by indulging in simple pleasures as a form of distraction, almost in a way that counteracted consciousness. It meant that I couldn't understand people anymore once I could see that. I thought that we were all part of a collective of moral monsters.

Shelton: Do you have an example of this?

Katy-May: Yes. One example is this: If I saw someone in a hat on a mild day I would think "What kind of world is this? That we are forced into such insecurity, about our meaninglessness, that we would wear a hat for no other reason than to wear a hat. Isn't there more to life than this? Than to eat, shit, desire, consume. What an empty concept fashion is! What a placebo! Full of short lived ecstasy to placate the masses."

Shelton: Oh.

Katy-May: Yes. There were a lot of soviet overtones.

Shelton: And what else?

Katy-May: I stopped caring about how I was physically received. I was repulsed by the idea of being labeled by my gender, prettiness, affability, relationship status: so I dressed, I presented, as small as possible, to disappear, to fade into the ether.

Shelton: And?

Katy-May: and I lost all of my desires. My want for food. Wine. Company. For Love. Sex. A blue apathy washed over me. And I guess it was some time after that I began to understand another side of things that I never had before. Like the choices made by people like Robin Williams, because for me ultimately, time here had become as baseless as a human wearing a hat in mild weather.

Shelton: But it's over now? 

Katy-May: Yes.

Shelton: You're back here, with us?

KM: Yes.

Shelton: And it's okay now?

KM: Yes, it’s okay now.

Shelton: Why didn't you tell us?

KM: I couldn't. It was a transient experience, kind of like a bad hangover. Something that comes and goes in good time. I was lucky that it was fleeting and lucky to have people around me that weren’t judgmental and were patient. I was very lucky.

Shelton: Yes.

Music fades out. 

Play 3: I've been thinking a lot about text messaging… (6:51)

Michael: I’ve been thinking a lot about text messaging and how it’s most if not all of our human interaction these days, which made me think about what some of my favorite text messages have been, or would be, which led me to write this very short play where I show you what I think would be the absolute best text message interaction ever, in this play you will play me and I will play someone who is not me, I hope you enjoy it as much as I would. GO!

Michael: This play will continue when you text “What should we eat for dinner tonight?” to ‪(203) XXX-7183‬. 

iPhone text message dings turn into musical underscore of dings and continues underneath disclaimer. 

Michael: Disclaimer. If you are hearing this podcast any time after May 2020: Hey! How's the future? I hope you can hug people. Also, so sorry but this play has ended. If you would like to know what happened, you can email me at Michael@nynf.org. 

Music ends with a ding flourish. 

Play 4: Quarantine Movie Guide for Isolation Escapists (8:04)

Michaela: Quarantine Movie Guide for Isolation Escapists. GO!

Strings underscore.

Michaela: Spirited Away when you finish a Zoom conference and get that sinking feeling that you said something weird.

Good Time when you feel horny and could go for a swift ice pack to the libido cause lord knows you’re not getting any.

Linklater’s Before Trilogy for a rainy day, The Lord of the Rings Trilogy for a really rainy day, and Kill Bill Volumes 1 and 2 for the rainiest day.

Watch Do The Right Thing when you feel like you forgot your city. 

Inside Llewyn Davis when it’s 4 AM and you’re trying to sleep but you just can’t. And Pulp Fiction when it’s 8 AM and you’re trying to wake up but you just can’t. 

The Florida Project when you haven’t cried in a while, Amazing Grace when you don’t want to stop crying, and Best in Show when you do. 

Y Tu Mama Tambien when you’re feeling isolated and sexy, I Don’t Feel at Home in This World Anymore when you’re feeling isolated and apocalyptic, and The Way Way Back when you’re just feeling isolated.

Blow the Man Down, The Town, The Fighter, and Fargo for when you just need a regional accent fix.

Three Identical Strangers when you’ve had 8 cups of coffee and start thinking about the “government”. 

Bong Joon-ho’s Mother when you want to give in to your emotional spiraling and Hairspray when you want to ignore your emotional spiraling. 

Murder Mystery when you want to watch a bad movie but you still want to enjoy the experience.

Terms of Endearment when you miss your Mom. 

Portrait of a Lady on Fire to remind you what true love can look like.

Tangerine to get inspired to make something great with limited resources, and Girl Most Likely when you fail miserably at baking a loaf of bread and can’t look yourself in the mirror.

I’ll watch Goodfellas the next time I feel like doing something stupid. 

I’ll watch 10 Things I Hate About You the next time I can’t find answers in a bowl of ice cream.

I’ll watch Sidewalks of New York the next time I feel like I’ve forgotten my city.

Strings play out. 

Play 5: Dishes: Lessons from a Hometown True Crime… (10:47)

Colin: Dishes: Lessons from a Hometown True Crime Lifetime Original. GO!

Colin: My days go by with haunting regularity out here. When I say out here, I mean in my little town outside of Albany, NY where, several weeks ago when I unceremoniously packed a backpack, said see ya later to my roommates in the city and took a train upstate to live with my parents for a while. 

Warped guitar chords underscore. 

My days generally go like this: I wake up around 10am and eat a breakfast of two hard boiled eggs and bread. I watch youtube videos and try to make phone calls to unemployment, or try logging in for the several hundredth time only to be bounced off the website when I least suspect it. I eat dinner with my folks, and try not to bristle at their multitudes of super helpful suggestions. I watch Ken Burns 9 part Country Music documentary and practice guitar for an upcoming job in July which I am hoping very much doesn’t get cancelled. In the afternoons I bike around my town for a little exercise. It was during one of these rides that I turned down Broccoli Street and was reminded of the tragic tale of Peter Porco.  

You see Peter Porco was murdered in his home on Broccoli Street. The sensational details of the story put our little town at the center of a tabloid murder case which held the attention of national crime gawkers for years.  The murder was the topic of an episode of ABC’s 48 Hour Mysteries and had even been the basis of an LifeTime Original movie called The Romeo Killer which starred Will from Will and Grace as a no nonsense small town Detective who happened to have a daughter who was dating the suspected murderer. That part of the movie, though thematically sound, is entirely fictional. The following details however are all true: On November 15, 2004, Peter Porco and his wife Joan had been brutally attacked by an intruder with an ax while they were sleeping in their home. The prime suspect was their 20 year old son Chris who lived 3 hours away at the University of Rochester. I went to high school with Chris and I don’t remember anything about him other than that he was kind of tall and kind of unmemorable. The Lifetime Original movie focused on Chris as a serial ladies man who could manipulate women into seeing the best in him. I can neither confirm nor deny this tantalizing aspect of Lifetime’s The Romeo Killer. 

One of the things it got correct, however, was the unnerving and gruesome details of how Peter Porco’s life ended. You see after the attack, the attacker left both Peter and Joan for dead when in fact neither one was, though both had suffered extensive traumatic injuries. The following morning Peter Porco rose out of bed in a sort of walking unconsciousness and went about his morning routine, unloading the dishwasher, writing a check and leaving a trail of blood around the house completely unaware that he was living his final moments until his body collapsed from his injuries. As a teenager this part of the story always confirmed a secret fear of my town, and the need to escape it, for my town was the sort of town which was so ingrained in its daily routines, its suburban normality, that not even being attacked by an ax-wielding madman was cause enough to stray from one’s morning rituals.

And I am reminded of a time when I was hit by a car on my way to work, only to refuse care from an ambulance and continue along my way despite having a number of obvious injuries. Getting in that ambulance would have been a huge inconvenience after all, involving paperwork, medical bills, calls to work, calls home. And if I just went along as though nothing had happened perhaps all that unpleasantness could be avoided, for a little while anyway. That’s when I see that my little town has made its impact on me, despite my best teenage protests to the contrary.   

And I am reminded perhaps of our current situation with this virus. Wouldn’t it just be nice to keep on going to work? Everything was going fine, so we tell ourselves. Why all this disruption? And sometimes we are fine. And sometimes we’re not. Sometimes we’re Peter Porco, unable to comprehend that the trauma has already happened and we’re just doing our best to not get blood on the dishes. 

Music crescendos and fades out.

Show Outro (15:37)

Stompy and twinkly electronic instrumental music plays underneath.

Julia: Thanks for Hitting Play and then listening to Hit Play. If you liked what you heard, subscribe to the show and tell a friend! If you want to support the New York Neo-Futurists in other ways, consider making a donation at nynf.org, or joining our Patreon–Patreon.com/NYNF. Patreon membership gives you access to bonus content like video plays and livestreams. And if this episode gets over 1,000 downloads, we'll order one of our Patreon supporters a pizza on us. We’d really appreciate any support in these difficult times. Contributing to our Patreon helps us continue to pay our artists. 

Take care of yourself, cut up those copies of the New Yorker you’re never gonna read and make a collage, then share it with us on Instagram, Twitter, or Facebook.

This episode featured work by: Robin Virginie, Katy-May Hudson (and thanks to Joey Rizzolo for providing this play from the vault!), Michael John Improta, Michaela Farrell, and Colin Summers. Our logo was designed by Shelton Lindsay. And our sound is designed by Anthony Sertel Dean. Léah Miller is our associate producer. Hit Play is produced by Anthony Sertel Dean and me, Julia Melfi. Take Care!

Music fades out!