Divine Comedy 04
Sep. 3rd, 2008 05:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
believe_in_meCelebrity is a mask that eats into the face. As soon as one is aware of being "somebody," to be watched and listened to with extra interest, input ceases, and the performer goes blind and deaf in his overanimation. One can either see or be seen.
-John Updike, Self-Consciousness: Memoirs, ch. 6, 1989
"Nobody controls me. I'm uncontrollable. The only one who can control me is me, and that's just barely possible. And that's the lesson I'm learning. If someone's going to impress me, whether it be a Maharishi or a Yoko, then there comes a point where the emperor has no clothes 'cause I'm naive, but I'm not stupid. For all you folks out there who think I'm having the wool pulled over my eyes, well, that's an insult to me. But if you think you know me, or you have some part of me because of the music, and then you think I'm being controlled like a dog on a leash because I do things with her, then screw you, brother or sister, you don't know what's happening."
- John Lennon
Somewhere in Gotham City there's a party where the rich meet the super rich meet the golden of the world of grit and grime.
It's a Wayne Party which means (because all celebrity lapses are forgiven easily) that you arrive early and begin on the booze before Wayne comes up and gives you what seems like a morality lecture disguised as a seeming attempt to want to be alone.
His birthday last year might be on many of the minds of men and women dressed like peacocks with diamonds in their hair. And then they remember this is for Harvey Dent and who wants the scum of the criminal element anyway?
They twist, these lucies in the sky, and occasionally glance out the window. Here with diamonds everything's simple, easy, to understand. From your vantage point at the top of the pyramid, it's easy to forget that it was built on the back of slaves in the world below.
"More Champagne?"
Yes please, smile, thank you. It's a Wayne party and anyone who's anyone should be here because-well-he's old money and by god we can forgive the man the occasional lapse. Screaming at people to leave, calling them phonies. Phonies? surely not. They finger cubic zarconias ruefully and bemoan the economy. No, not phonies.
-----------------
Harvey Dent cannot remember the last time he was this nervous. For the better part of a half-a-mile as the Taxi slows to a stop in front of the biggest building in Gotham City.
Of course.
Rachel's smile is almost condescending, "...Nervous?"
"Of course not." A little peeved, not nervous. never nervous. Yet he grips her arm unusually tight and is grateful when she lets it slide. That is a woman, in the corridors of power built my men holding them up, stronger then a foundation-
"...Bruce throws the best parties..."
And occasionally more ridiculous. Harvey tries not to look at the gold and marble in the lobby. That's not real gold is it?
"I just bet he does."
--------------------
The Wayne Party at 9:30 is just getting into full swing with the people in the sky with diamonds trading superior glances and sipping champange so frequently that the supposed guest of honor goes unnoticed.
Harvey really doesn't mind. When you're in a room with two movie stars (and not female movie stars either) and the guy you're sure is an anchorman for the local branch of CNN you really can't afford to be picky. Gotham is Rich in old Money and Harvey-
Poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks in a lower-middle-class family (no matter what the gotham times says) Harvey-
Cannot help but feel out of place.
"Now I've seen Everything." Rachel's hand is the only warm spot in a room full of-well-full of cold "Harvey Dent, scourge of the underworld scared stiff by the trust fund brigade."
She dives off into the crowd and his fingers are suddenly grasping at air. Shit, shit shit- It feels wrong, living it up and trying to party when there are real things that he could be doing...
It's not nerves.
Like being down at City Hall. Gordon might be making a break right now, a break he might have to prosecute.
It's not nerves.
And Dammit! with the cops on Gordon's squad? How could he be expected to accomplish anything? They'd probably botch it. They'd probably track blood somewhere and it'd be OJ again...
Dammit! It's. not. nerves.
"A little liquid courage Mr. Dent?"
Harvey Dent has heard enough about Alfred Pennyworth. The voice is Britsh, smooth and cultured and seemingly (somehow it seemed wrong) the only guy in the room serving. Oh no, there were the servers.
"No thanks." I don't drink "You're alfred right?"
"Yes sir." Alfred slides the tray away. He's smooth,
"Any psychotic ex-boyfriends I should know about?"
Really, all Harvey wanted to do was make the guy go away. It seemed to do the trick for the moment, Alfred looking at him with a knowing smile as he sidles away, "Oh you have no idea."
Now what did he mean by that?
----------------
And in the end he can't help but wonder if this is guilt. Wayne arrives with pagent contestants that span the Eastern European Seaboard and raises a toast and says things that...
Almost ring true.
He would like to believe them if not for the beautiful women on his arm and something else, that nervous way that Rachel keeps glancing in Bruce's direction. Something is off.
He doesn't like that but it's a compelling visual and he's a politican who understands that sometimes compelling visuals are all you have. Here in a world filled with beautiful women wearing diamonds (some look like zarconias but he won't tell.) You take what you can get.
"...So let's keep Harvey Dent right where Gotham wants him-all except the criminals of coures."
Harvey smiles.
I thought you hated fake people?
Nodding to the crowd as a whole-
didn't you swear to be honest all the time?
Playing the Game Accepting the Toast.
Remember what the modern-day bible yellow colored liars say Harvey. "Lies make baby Jesus Cry."
-----------
That's it, he has to go through with it, the time is now-
The wind rises electric on the balcony and shades of past and future cities cloud them but they are here and they are normal-
"You know, Harvey may not know you well enough to know when you're making fun of him, but I do-!"
He almost reaches for the glass, almost, patting someone who's name he's forgotten. What a guy, That guy!
"I meant every word."
She didn't give him an answer. What makes you think she's going to be more receptive now?
"...Remember that day I told you about? The day that Gotham no longer needs Batman?"
She turns away, "You can't ask me to wait for that."
"But it's coming. Harvey is that Hero."
"Caught you in that Rossio's Deli thing." Some fat man claps him on the back, "Never seen anything liek that. Straight out of a movie. Ever think of showbusiness?"
"You said we'd be together. Did you mean it?"
"There's too much to keep me here."
"Yes."
"You throw a hell of a Party Wayne. I'll give you that much." The wind rises Electric and Batman and his lady stand on the balcony staring off into the night, "...Mind if I borrow Rachel for a moment?"
---------------
It took five minutes for Harvey Dent to propose. Again..
It took a minute of thoughtful heartbreaking silence for Rachel to give no answer.
It takes fifteen seconds for Bruce Wayne to put his hands on Harvey Dent's head and, in true Martial art's fashion. Dai-Sun-Quay. He'll be out for the better part of half an hour, perhaps more.
Rachel vanishes in a swirl of green skirts and Wayne hoists the District Attorney in his arms, dragging him over to the pantry. There is a noise in the ballroom (big noise) and he shoves rather roughly the District Attorney up against the backwall.
Here's hoping you Drink Harvey.
Here's hoping that whatever was going on in the ballroom doesn't take that long.
It takes two seconds for the ingenuity of mankind to shine through. Why not have a cupboard that opens on both sides? Why not have it accessable from various points?
There's a click and the opposite door opens, Harvey Dent falling through to the floor beyond and he's-
Somewhere else.
Don't think I expected this development.
-John Updike, Self-Consciousness: Memoirs, ch. 6, 1989
"Nobody controls me. I'm uncontrollable. The only one who can control me is me, and that's just barely possible. And that's the lesson I'm learning. If someone's going to impress me, whether it be a Maharishi or a Yoko, then there comes a point where the emperor has no clothes 'cause I'm naive, but I'm not stupid. For all you folks out there who think I'm having the wool pulled over my eyes, well, that's an insult to me. But if you think you know me, or you have some part of me because of the music, and then you think I'm being controlled like a dog on a leash because I do things with her, then screw you, brother or sister, you don't know what's happening."
- John Lennon
Somewhere in Gotham City there's a party where the rich meet the super rich meet the golden of the world of grit and grime.
It's a Wayne Party which means (because all celebrity lapses are forgiven easily) that you arrive early and begin on the booze before Wayne comes up and gives you what seems like a morality lecture disguised as a seeming attempt to want to be alone.
His birthday last year might be on many of the minds of men and women dressed like peacocks with diamonds in their hair. And then they remember this is for Harvey Dent and who wants the scum of the criminal element anyway?
They twist, these lucies in the sky, and occasionally glance out the window. Here with diamonds everything's simple, easy, to understand. From your vantage point at the top of the pyramid, it's easy to forget that it was built on the back of slaves in the world below.
"More Champagne?"
Yes please, smile, thank you. It's a Wayne party and anyone who's anyone should be here because-well-he's old money and by god we can forgive the man the occasional lapse. Screaming at people to leave, calling them phonies. Phonies? surely not. They finger cubic zarconias ruefully and bemoan the economy. No, not phonies.
-----------------
Harvey Dent cannot remember the last time he was this nervous. For the better part of a half-a-mile as the Taxi slows to a stop in front of the biggest building in Gotham City.
Of course.
Rachel's smile is almost condescending, "...Nervous?"
"Of course not." A little peeved, not nervous. never nervous. Yet he grips her arm unusually tight and is grateful when she lets it slide. That is a woman, in the corridors of power built my men holding them up, stronger then a foundation-
"...Bruce throws the best parties..."
And occasionally more ridiculous. Harvey tries not to look at the gold and marble in the lobby. That's not real gold is it?
"I just bet he does."
--------------------
The Wayne Party at 9:30 is just getting into full swing with the people in the sky with diamonds trading superior glances and sipping champange so frequently that the supposed guest of honor goes unnoticed.
Harvey really doesn't mind. When you're in a room with two movie stars (and not female movie stars either) and the guy you're sure is an anchorman for the local branch of CNN you really can't afford to be picky. Gotham is Rich in old Money and Harvey-
Poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks in a lower-middle-class family (no matter what the gotham times says) Harvey-
Cannot help but feel out of place.
"Now I've seen Everything." Rachel's hand is the only warm spot in a room full of-well-full of cold "Harvey Dent, scourge of the underworld scared stiff by the trust fund brigade."
She dives off into the crowd and his fingers are suddenly grasping at air. Shit, shit shit- It feels wrong, living it up and trying to party when there are real things that he could be doing...
It's not nerves.
Like being down at City Hall. Gordon might be making a break right now, a break he might have to prosecute.
It's not nerves.
And Dammit! with the cops on Gordon's squad? How could he be expected to accomplish anything? They'd probably botch it. They'd probably track blood somewhere and it'd be OJ again...
Dammit! It's. not. nerves.
"A little liquid courage Mr. Dent?"
Harvey Dent has heard enough about Alfred Pennyworth. The voice is Britsh, smooth and cultured and seemingly (somehow it seemed wrong) the only guy in the room serving. Oh no, there were the servers.
"No thanks." I don't drink "You're alfred right?"
"Yes sir." Alfred slides the tray away. He's smooth,
"Any psychotic ex-boyfriends I should know about?"
Really, all Harvey wanted to do was make the guy go away. It seemed to do the trick for the moment, Alfred looking at him with a knowing smile as he sidles away, "Oh you have no idea."
Now what did he mean by that?
----------------
And in the end he can't help but wonder if this is guilt. Wayne arrives with pagent contestants that span the Eastern European Seaboard and raises a toast and says things that...
Almost ring true.
He would like to believe them if not for the beautiful women on his arm and something else, that nervous way that Rachel keeps glancing in Bruce's direction. Something is off.
He doesn't like that but it's a compelling visual and he's a politican who understands that sometimes compelling visuals are all you have. Here in a world filled with beautiful women wearing diamonds (some look like zarconias but he won't tell.) You take what you can get.
"...So let's keep Harvey Dent right where Gotham wants him-all except the criminals of coures."
Harvey smiles.
I thought you hated fake people?
Nodding to the crowd as a whole-
didn't you swear to be honest all the time?
Remember what the modern-day bible yellow colored liars say Harvey. "Lies make baby Jesus Cry."
-----------
That's it, he has to go through with it, the time is now-
The wind rises electric on the balcony and shades of past and future cities cloud them but they are here and they are normal-
"You know, Harvey may not know you well enough to know when you're making fun of him, but I do-!"
He almost reaches for the glass, almost, patting someone who's name he's forgotten. What a guy, That guy!
"I meant every word."
She didn't give him an answer. What makes you think she's going to be more receptive now?
"...Remember that day I told you about? The day that Gotham no longer needs Batman?"
She turns away, "You can't ask me to wait for that."
"But it's coming. Harvey is that Hero."
"Caught you in that Rossio's Deli thing." Some fat man claps him on the back, "Never seen anything liek that. Straight out of a movie. Ever think of showbusiness?"
"You said we'd be together. Did you mean it?"
"There's too much to keep me here."
"Yes."
"You throw a hell of a Party Wayne. I'll give you that much." The wind rises Electric and Batman and his lady stand on the balcony staring off into the night, "...Mind if I borrow Rachel for a moment?"
---------------
It took five minutes for Harvey Dent to propose. Again..
It took a minute of thoughtful heartbreaking silence for Rachel to give no answer.
It takes fifteen seconds for Bruce Wayne to put his hands on Harvey Dent's head and, in true Martial art's fashion. Dai-Sun-Quay. He'll be out for the better part of half an hour, perhaps more.
Rachel vanishes in a swirl of green skirts and Wayne hoists the District Attorney in his arms, dragging him over to the pantry. There is a noise in the ballroom (big noise) and he shoves rather roughly the District Attorney up against the backwall.
Here's hoping you Drink Harvey.
Here's hoping that whatever was going on in the ballroom doesn't take that long.
It takes two seconds for the ingenuity of mankind to shine through. Why not have a cupboard that opens on both sides? Why not have it accessable from various points?
There's a click and the opposite door opens, Harvey Dent falling through to the floor beyond and he's-
Somewhere else.
Don't think I expected this development.
