JERRY! JERRY! JERRY!

A 20th Century Modernist up against a 21st Century Transcendentalist with a Poetry Boot Camp Team. God help us all.

 

(The screen turns on, showing a crowd at a talk show, clapping and hooting as the show begins. The words, “Jerry Springer” flash across the screen.)

 

Crowd: (applauds and cheers) JERRY, JERRY, JERRY, JERRY, JERRY, JERRY!

 

Springer: (comes out from backstage, shakes hands with various people in the audience and turns towards the cameras) Thank you for tuning in! Thank you, thank you, thank you, and today’s topic is, “I’ve had enough with your depressing poems, write something happy!” Now, let’s meet our first guest, Stefanie. Stefanie?

 

(Camera pans out to see a short girl, looking like she’s in her teens but in reality needing a serious glass of milk, sitting in a chair on the stage)

 

Springer: Now Stefanie, you’re a college student at CSU Long Beach, am I correct?

 

Stefanie: Yeah, Jerry.

 

Springer: Wow, a college student? We haven’t had someone in your age group who’s graduated high school since 1994!

 

Stefanie: I…uh, I bet.

 

Springer: So, Stefanie, what’s your story?

 

Stefanie: (sighs) Well, Jerry, I just got into this poetry class a few weeks ago, right? Well, not long ago, I had to see T.S. Eliot again-

 

Springer: Who’s Eliot, by the way, for everyone who’s just tuning in?

 

Stefanie: Wait, I have to explain who he is? Didn’t your teachers in high school- oh wait, most of you in the audience hasn’t even gotten out of middle school yet. (Crouches down in anticipation of angry words)

 

Crowd: (talks to each other in mild agreement)

 

Stefanie: Uh…yeah, well, I had to read this poem for his class, “Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock”? And…it wasn’t a love poem at all! It was about a neurotic guy who can’t get any from the chicks!

 

Springer: (mutters to self) I empathize with him.

 

Stefanie: Pardon?

 

Springer: Nothing, Stefanie. So, what do you think about the poem, Stefanie?

 

Stefanie: Well…it makes me sick! He talks about yellow fog, sawdust covered floors, etherizing…just…arg! His poems depress and disgust me! And! What pisses me off about him is that he says that he likes to distance himself from his writing! Well, I’d just like to tell him he and his writing are just about as disconnected as Siamese twins! If he wanted to be so disconnected from his work, he’d have to hire Mickey Mouse to do all his writing!

 

Springer: Well, Stefanie, we have a surprise for you.

 

Stefanie: What, did Eliot drown with the crabs? Please tell me he did!

 

Springer: Well, uh, no, he’s here. Alright let’s bring out T.S. Eliot!

 

(Crowd boos as Eliot walks out unenthusiastically and sits in the chair, staring out into the disapproving crowd blankly)

 

Springer: Alright, Mr. Eliot?

 

Eliot: (looks at Springer blankly) Yes?

 

Springer: So, Mr. Eliot, how are you today?

 

Eliot: …

 

Stefanie: (turns to Eliot) What, are you so above it all that you think you can ignore people when they’re talking to you?

 

Eliot: (glares at Stefanie) There. Is that better?

 

Stefanie: (rolls her eyes, turns forward and crosses her arms in front of her chest)

 

Springer: Well, alright, let’s get this thing going. Stefanie, is there something you want to say to Eliot?

 

Stefanie: As a matter of fact, yes! (turns to Eliot) You are without a doubt in my mind, the most depressing little snob I’ve ever had to meet in my entire life! I mean, here I am, trying to get my BA in English, and I’m having a grand old time until YOU show up! I was already having a hard enough time reading Modernism, and just when I think I’ve seen it all, no, no, no, YOU had to show up with your depressing little love poem!

 

Eliot:…And I care about what you think, why?

 

Stefanie: (sputters) Wha-?! What?! Why should you care? I’M YOUR AUDIENCE! Don’t you care about how your audience feels when you write stuff like that?!

 

Eliot: (throws a dirty look and shakes his head slowly) My God.

 

Stefanie: What?

 

Eliot: Did the Romantics brainwash you THAT much?

 

Stefanie: (stands up) I owe a lot to those Romantic poets, pal! They showed it was ok to have emotions and to celebrate it! They helped bring life back into my soul! Something YOU could use since Prozac probably wouldn’t work on you! And look who’s talking! You say you hate tradition and crap like that, and yet you use it in your writing!

 

Eliot: If someone you don’t like doesn’t speak English and you want them to know it, wouldn’t it make sense to insult them in their language?

 

Stefanie: Why you little-

 

Eliot: Why are you complaining, huh? I’m trying to do my job and point out what’s wrong with this society! The whole world’s going down in flames, and what are you romantics doing? You’re galloping in the flowers, reminiscing about the past and all that! Meanwhile, the whole world’s falling apart all around you and you’re twiddling your thumbs in the flowers!

 

Stefanie: Ok, do you honestly think I’m that blind? Do you honestly believe that I don’t know the world’s falling apart and that it needs help? Of course I know that! That’s why I write! The world is falling apart, but I want the world to know that there’s hope and that there’s still good in it yet! And another thing, for your information, I’m not a romantic! I’m a transcendentalist! There’s a difference!

 

Eliot: What’s the difference then?

 

Stefanie:…

 

Eliot: Ha! You can’t even cough up a definition! You don’t even know what it is to be a transcendentalist!

 

Stefanie: I know you need to look in nature to find ways to get in touch with your spirituality! Something you desperately need!

 

Springer: Well, Eliot we have a surprise for you.

 

Eliot: (raises an eyebrow) What? Are you just going to drop me off in the wilderness in a foreign country?

 

Springer: Oh no, that’s for my next special, “Boy band members who desperately need a reality check[1].” No, right now, I want to bring in my Poetry Boot Camp team. Please welcome them!

 

(Crowd cheers as William Wordsworth, John Keats, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Walt Whitman, Henry David Thoreau and Ralph Waldo Emerson walk in. Stefanie’s eyes light up at the sight of Emerson and runs to hug him. Eliot, who earlier was glaring at the previous men, goes into a rage at the sight of Stefanie hugging Emerson)

 

Eliot: (gets up and gets into Emerson’s face) Hey, what the ::bleep:: do you think you’re doing?!

 

Emerson: (pushes Stefanie aside and gets into Eliot’s face) Sit down you mother ::bleep::ing Modernist! I will not tolerate your ::bleep: damned depressing ::bleep::!

 

Eliot: Shut up, you ::bleep::ing Transcendentalist! Why are you ::bleep::ers trying to get me to side with you?!

 

Wordsworth: Because the world is too much ::bleep::ing with us! NOW SIT DOWN TO MY EXPULSATION AND DO NOT ::bleep::ING REPLY!!!

 

(John Keats gets in front of Eliot and holds up an urn with paintings on it)

 

Keats: Now you will see these two on this urn about to kiss…a kiss that will last forever…and ever and ever…

 

Eliot:…I’d rather have the urn broken into my face than have to stare at that.

 

(Audience “oohs”)

 

Keats:…I see you are made of tougher stuff than that. Coleridge!

 

(Coleridge gets into Eliot’s face and puts on a dramatically scary face)

 

Coleridge: “Her lips were red, her looks were free, / Her locks were yellow as gold: / Her skin was as white as leprosy, / The Night-mare Life-in-Death was she, / Who thicks man’s blood with cold!”

 

Eliot:…Too bad she didn’t just drop dead then.

 

(Coleridge begins screaming a long stream of profanities in Eliot’s face as Whitman strips off his clothes and dances around, almost in a ritualistic way, reciting his poetry)

 

Whitman: “I celebrate myself(!) / And what I assume you shall assume, / For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you!”

 

Eliot: Yes, everyone has just as tiny of a ::bleep:: as you!

 

(The audience goes wild, yelling at Whitman begins to strangle Eliot)

 

Whitman: Damn my “need for comrades”! You’re gonna die mother ::bleep::ER!

 

(Stefanie stares at Emerson)

 

Stefanie: “…if eyes are made for seeing…” I’m glad I’m looking at you.

 

(The audience “awwwws” but Eliot once again loses his grip)

 

Eliot: YOU’RE DEAD ::bleep::HOLE!

 

Audience member: Geez, they did that again with that word…they did it when I was here for the Dante’s Cove episode o_0

 

Emerson: (looks at Stefanie)… “in my simple ignorance, suppose / The self-same Power that brought me there brought” me to you.

 

(The audience “awwws” again but starts repeating “JERRY, JERRY, JERRY” as Eliot breaks a chair over Emerson’s head)

 

Springer: Thank you, now, folks, what have we learned today? Maybe that self-expression is ok, but you really need to take responsibility for how you feel. And the world is filled with all kinds of poets. What new movement will we have after this? Take care of yourselves and each other. STEVE! Holy ::bleep:: Eliot just beat up Steve, we need to go to commercial break!

 

 

 

 

 

---

[1] Reference to *NSYNC’s Lance Bass who was supposed to go up into space- Bass could not come up with the sufficient funds for the mission.

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

If you don't know who these people are...go read a book.

Reviews

[Drew Wade]

you're so mean!!!!!!!! not even fair. you should have had some of the lost generation come to eliot's aid! I would have even settled for gertrude stein!

I do think this was a novel approach to bringing out an idea, and who doesn't love Jerry Springer? (He's from Cincinnati, by the way). So good job. but two plays from you so far, and they're both involving springer? Is this part of the 'Springer Cycle'? hahaha. totally entertaining.

[Taylor Maye]

lol this was f*****g hilarious lol