A monologue from the play by Don Nigro
BRITTANY (late-twenties)
But how do you know for sure?
Just because nobody has figured out an experiment they can repeat over and over again and make the same thing happen,
like dropping a bowling ball off a bell tower or something, doesn’t mean there isn’t any connection. All kinds of things are connected that we don’t know about.
That’s what science is. And that’s what art is, too, right? Making connections between things that other people didn’t make before.
Which is why your stupid writer’s workshop stories really, really suck the big one. Because they’re not making connections that other people haven’t made before.
They’re only making connections that other people have already made.
Somebody is going along and sneering at anybody who does anything different and making them stop, and the result is a drab, dead, lifeless, worthless slop.
It’s dead. And you’re dead. All of you people are dead. You think you’re creating something but you’re not creating anything.
Nothing is being created here and nothing of any value is being learned. Because it’s all just the scared mediocre puke of scared mediocre people.
And meanwhile, all around us, there’s this whole universe of unexplained and terrifying things that all of you
are too damned full of yourselves to even acknowledge the possibility of. And it’s people like you who run the world.
Mediocrities. People with skills just a little above average end up running everything, because that’s what they’re good at. They don’t make anything.
They don’t create anything of any real value. They just like telling people what to do and feeling superior to anybody who actually uses their brain.
