Transcript

Show Intro

__ electronic instrumental music plays underneath.

Yael: Episode 58. “Opening Up.”

Hi, I’m Yael, a New York Neo-Futurist. 

While our on-going, ever-changing, late-night show, The Infinite Wrench, continues to be on hold for the foreseeable future, we wanted to keep making art for you. And so, we made this podcast.

If you’re already a fan of The New York Neo-Futurists, or any of our sibling companies, hello! We can’t wait to pat your head and go, “Who’s a good audience member!?” 

If this is totally new to you— welcome to it!

We make art 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. 

So if we tell you that we’re snipping up a piece of paper with five-blade scissors, we’re really snipping up a piece of paper with five-blade scissors like I am right now!

Sound of five-blade scissors snipping a piece of paper

God that’s fun!

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

This episode of Hit Play is all about opening up, in lots of ways.  

And now, Michaela will run the numbers!

Michaela: Hey, I’m Michaela, a NY Neo-Futurist. In this episode we’re bringing you 5 new plays. This week’s cast is Greg Lakhan, Yael Haskal, me -- Michaela Farrell, and Katy-May Hudson. That brings us to 237 total audio experiments on Hit Play. Enjoy!

Music winds down.

Play 1: AGGRESSIVE Money Making Affirmations From Ya Boi (2:00)

Greg: AGGRESSIVE Money Making Affirmations From Ya Boi. GO!

Typical binaural beats present in all spirituality related youtube videos play underneath.

Hello, it’s ya boi, Greg Lakhan. Coming at you again with some affirmations to get the bag, and obtain that grain in abundance. Listen to the powerful recording once a day for 3 weeks straight, for maximum guap accumulation. You might just be amazed by how much grain you obtain. Ready? I will recite the affirmations, and you will repeat that shit. The more passion you repeat the affirmations with, the more effective of these affirmations will be.

All the bolded words reverberate and echo.

I am grateful that money comes to me.

I vibrate prosperity, MOTHERFUCKER.

My life is the embodiment of SWAG IN ABUNDANCE.

I am DUMMY SUCCESSFUL MY GUY.

I am SWAG. 

I vibrate on the same frequency as MONEY ITSELF. 

I welcome money and prosperity into my life. EVERYONE ELSE CAN FUCK OFF.

Long Beat. 

I AM MONEY, BITCH. 

Money comes to me, WHETHER OR NOT THESE HATERS HATE. 

Wealth is horny for me and ME ALONE.

I am the master of my own wealth. 

The money I attract will make these losers STEP THEIR FUCKING GAME UP. IT’S LONELY AT THE TOP.

Long Beat.

Namaste.

Play 2: VII.V.MMXXI state of the union (5:03)

Yael: VII.V.MMXXI state of the union. GO!

Good morning, good afternoon, good evening, that should cover it. 

Bleak drones play underneath

I don’t know if you recognize me from a year ago but I have dragged myself out of the trash to say, “Hey, look at me, I’ve got six brain cells and a pen.” It's July 5, 2021, and the state of the union is…cracked-the-fuck-up. 

Everyone is talking about “opening up,” I hear it every day, “everything’s opening up, isn’t it great, isn’t it perfect how everything is opening up again.” On the weekends, we go out. We go the park. We go to the party. We meet the girl who grows the weed and the guy who starts the startups. We shake hands and look naughty. I say, “Oh my god, so nice to finally meet you in person.” Nobody believes it. I am coughing up phlegm in the bathroom. They talk about unions and bitcoin and how cool it is that trees all talk to each other or whatever, I don’t know, I didn’t read the book. The smoke turns yellow, our shoes turn brown. I spit into my hand and imagine how fucking terrible it must be to meet me.

It wasn’t so long ago that I felt I had lost all of my memories, everything down the snake of the drain of whatever exhaust pipe sticks out of the back of my head. Goodbye, friends. Goodbye Saturdays. Goodbye everything that I remember remembering but not the memory itself. Goodbye to the things I cannot hold anymore, not because I don’t want to but because my fingers are so slippery, goodbye to Wednesdays. Goodbye to the moments so narrow and imperceptibly special that they fit through the cracks, all the times I have thought to myself, “I can’t fathom being anywhere else but here right now,” but here I am now, someplace different. Goodbye to the ones that itch, the ones too heavy not to fall through the net but I shook the net. The ones I didn’t know began and didn’t realize ended. Good tidings. Bring your ship home. Take your leave and eat a pineapple. Yes. More and more, I am convincing myself that remembering is the sedentary exercise of the sick. The auto-population of text fields. It’s the rat-race between “is” and “was.” Six playlists worth of songs no good to you anymore. The quilting of the seams of the brain in concentric circles of captioned clouds, trying to convince yourself that you have learned from the past – I am not everything I have ever been. I am not the sum of the people I’ve known or the lessons I’ve learned. I have six brain cells and a pen and a bruise that won’t heal. 

It doesn’t matter how long I spend cleaning house. I am last year, but older, and smaller, and scared. Everyone is talking about “opening up,” “isn’t it great, isn’t it perfect, everything’s opening up,” and I want to say, “no, god, somebody put the lid back on, somebody close the box,” because I have spent too long as Schrodinger’s pet, and I don’t want to know if the cat lived or died.

Drones swell and fade to silence.  

Play 3: Did you experience [REDACTED]? You're not alone. (8:42)

Motivational, PSA style music plays underneath

Michaela: Did you experience [REDACTED]? You're not alone. GO!

What do you do when your walk in on your therapist-- 

BEEEP 

right before your session?

What do you say? Can you sit there and pretend you dont smell-- 

BEEP

Do you lie to yourself and say that your therapist’s hair is usually tossled and his shirt is always sweaty, and not that he had s-- 

 BEEP 

hair and s-- 

BEEP

sweat?

Do you get up and scream, how dare you-- 

BEEP 

right before therapy?

Do you grab his stupid vase that only holds the either too ripe or too new bananas and throw it at his window? And tell him that you know he just f-- 

BEEP

--d and that vase is stupid!!!!

Do you run to the bathroom turn on the water and start crying and contemplate leaving down the drain because you’d rather be among the New York City sewage creatures than be in his office slash--  

BEEP

Do you sit down and pretend nothing happened? Because that’s what I did.

Hi, I’m Michaela, a New York Neo-Futurist and recent student of my own mind. A month or two ago, I experienced my therapist f-- 

BEEP 

right before my therapy session. It was tough. I didn’t really know what to do so I just sat there politely and pretended i didn’t notice the m-- 

BEEP  

before I sat down. I smiled and laughed and tried to talk about anything, the weather, Coronavirus, New York City, to avoid talking about myself and my own issues with--

BEEP.

It took me a few weeks, but eventually, i stopped seeing my therapist, because when that--

BEEP 

happens, there’s literally no way you can even look at this person without imagining--  

BEEP. 

Therapists are people too, and I’m not saying we should deny them their own needs, but just don't f-- 

BEEP 

right before I come to see you!

If you or a friend have experienced walking in on your therapist p-- 

BEEP

before your session, shoot me an email, at michaela@nynf.org, and we can talk about it and suggest resources to each other, and mostly just commiserate over what we wished we did, and celebrate how we move forward after such a breach.

I hope he knows why i left him, and i hope yours does too.

Music fades to silence.

Play 4: Exodus.peace.reflect.adapt.forshadow (11:25)

Katy-May: Exodus.peace.reflect.adapt.forshadow. GO!

Starts with and intercut with plane recording about quarantine landing procedures 

EXODUS

After a time, maybe a third or a fourth of life so far, I’m back. Back here. At the bottom of the spinning globe, where it is safe and calm and slow. And now I am safe and I am slow, but not really calm. Quite the opposite really.

More muddled recording of quarantine procedures

PEACE

We wanted a spot that overlooked the water- and with a hot covid deal of 50%– we found ourselves in a place that did just that and is/was cheaper than our Brooklyn apartment. We fucking loved that apartment. Meserole and Manhattan. It held us together when everything fell apart.

Recording of quarantine procedures

REFLECT

Do you remember when we lived, *god, where did we live again* opposite that place, with the best burgers, and next door to the space cowboy boot shop, what’s that street again? I forget. But I remember what it felt like in summer to step out onto the avenue. Ducking, weaving to get to where we had to go. Thick with people, the smell of grinded steel, sour hot nut carts. Maybe I will re-remember more someday, but maybe it’s easier to forget and move on.

Quick quarantine procedures recording

ADAPT

We are accustomed to moving. Every year. Like clockwork. We move. Last year we moved 6 times. And there is no better way to condense it then we are perpetually unsatisfied. Lucky us. I say us and we because I am no longer a single entity. Isn’t that strange? Not being a single entity anymore.

Short quarantine procedures recording

FORESHADOW 

I am not the same. I have changed. And I did not want to. It happened while I kicked and screamed and fought for things to stay the same. I still have not surrendered. Maybe I should.  I don’t know. How about you?

Airplane quarantine procedures recording plays, then quick fade to silence.

Play 5: How are you? (13:51)

Greg: How Are You? GO!

Sound of rain underneath

Whenever anyone asks me how I’m doing, I usually just say “Good” just to avoid a situation where I selfishly unload on the person who asks, and look like a complete narcissist for being honest.

If I’m being honest, whenever I am honest with someone about how I’m feeling I feel guilty. As if I just took over the interaction in order to receive some sort of nurturing that the other party never consented to.

So I’m going to use this medium to tell you all how I’ve actually been feeling, since quite a few people have been asking now that people can actually gather in public spaces. That way if you see me, and ask me any time in the near future, you’ll actually know, and won’t have to wonder if I’m lying to your face out of inadvertent guilt. If you’re uninterested, feel free to fast forward. I won't take it personally.

If I’m being honest, I never actually know how I’m doing on a normal day, but the answer has never been anything extraordinary or passionate. I’ve been trying to change that, and so far it’s been pretty successful. Though sometimes I doubt I'll be able to keep it up.

For the first time in a long time I feel like I’m truly on my own and can just revel in the fact that I don't have to appease anyone. 

I started rock climbing. I also recently started skateboarding again, something I haven’t done since the age of 11, though a shattered patella and torn ACL, you know it makes it tough some days. It does make me feel like I'm on top of life whenever I land a new trick, or conquer a difficult climb at the gym though. I’m happy with my body too which is an added bonus.

I've quit in my endeavor to please my parents and I haven't spoken to them for almost a year. It’s crazy how your mental health improves when you’re allowed to be yourself. Sometimes I feel guilty about it. I still miss my brother. I see him from time to time, but sometimes I feel guilty that I'm not in his life as much as I should be.

I think because I lack parental bonds, I still chase people who don't necessarily really care for me or have my best interests at heart, and I neglect the people who do care. I often find myself fixating over the wrong people, growing anxious over could-be’s with girls that never were.

Another thing I’m starting to learn is that rejection is something to be experienced and processed, but not anything to internalize or hold against myself. Everyone craves intimacy and it's nothing to be ashamed of.

On the flip side I’ve found a form of self union through meditation. Wiping the dense whiteboard that has been my mind by keeping my focus and concentration on my breathing, and whatever current task is at hand. I find I've been able to give more to the ones I care about through this practice and to treat my neighbors similarly, with less skepticism and cynicism. I mean, you know barely, but it’s an improvement. 

It’s funny, I feel that in my loneliness I feel that I've found power. Trust. Faith. All by myself, and on my own terms.

So I could be better, but things can always be better. Right now though...I'm fine.

Show Outro

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Yael: Thanks for Hitting Play and then listening to Hit Play. 

If you liked what you heard, subscribe to the show, tell a friend, and leave a review on your listening app of choice! If you want to support the New York Neo-Futurists in other ways, consider making a donation at nynf.org, or by joining our Patreon - Patreon dot com slash NYNF. 

This episode featured work by:

Greg Lakhan, Michaela Farrell, Katy-May Hudson, and me, Yael Haskal.

Our logo was designed by Gabriel Drozdov and our sound is designed by Anthony Sertel Dean. 

Hit Play is produced by Anthony Sertel Dean, Léah Miller, Julia Melfi, and me, Yael Haskal.  

Take care!

Music fades out.