Hey Asshat by August Wilson

You have some homework to do before reading this blog! August Wilson’s legendary speech The Ground on Which I Stand, delivered to the TCG conference in 1996, and the resulting DEBATE between Wilson and Robert Brustein, the former Artistic Director of the American Repertory Theater in Cambridge, MA. If you are not familiar with these, get ready. “For what?”, you ask. Well, you’ll just have to clink on the links! Then, let’s grab a drink sometime and talk about how little or how far we’ve come.Jonathan Norton first performed at T3 in Wilson’s Joe Turner’s Come and Gone when he was a kid. Also, Larry O’Dwyer asked young Jonathan to write a play (his first) for T3’s teen summer program. This is important not because T3 lays any claim Jonathan’s immense talent. It just speaks to T3’s long history of nurturing artists. It’s so important to us that it is written into our mission statement. We can think of no better way to wrap up the first part of our Dead Playwright’s Society series.

Maybe add this line at the end of my intro. – When you’re done here’s some Extra credit!

………..

HEY ASSHAT

By August Wilson

Dear Robert,

Much gratitude

I would like to thank you for our recent

It was truly a pleasure

I enjoyed

I truly appreciate

I appreciate

Dear Robert

Robert

Dear Asshat ….

Dear Asshat

Hey Asshat

Our VERY public standing-room only debate the other night inspired me to write a new play titled “You Can Kiss The Pinkest Part of the Crack of My Natural Black Ass.” Never have I had such a fire lit under me, that I wrote an entire play in one sitting. Wanna read it? Here it goes.

YOU CAN KISS THE PINKEST PART OF THE CRACK OF MY NATURAL BLACK ASS

Not a Part of The Century Cycle ‘Cause This Shit Ain’t That Deep

By August Wilson

SCENE ONE: Lights up. A boardroom in Cambridge Massachusetts. ROBERT, the BOARD CHAIR, and THE CHORUS bemoan their fate. Much wailing and gnashing of teeth.

BOARD CHAIR

My friends. Fear not. We have lost the battle. But we will not lose the war.

CHORUS

But what shall we do? We’re hemorrhaging subscribers. Audiences are avoiding us like the PLAGUE! We can’t give tickets away.

ROBERT

Wait. As usual, I have a brilliant idea! I will clown August Wilson in public in a desperate attempt at free P.R.

CHORUS

There’s no such thing as bad publicity.

Everyone cheers. End of Scene.

SCENE TWO: Town Hall in NYC. Robert at the podium. He is onstage with AUGUST WILSON and their moderator, ANNA DEAVERE SMITH.

ROBERT

Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Plato’s Republic.

Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Denzel Washington.

Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Critical Thought.

Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Political Correctness.

Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Porgy and Bess.

Robert throws an imaginary football to the ground and does a victory dance.

ANNA

August, your response to Asshat… uh…. I mean Robert.

August looks up to the heavens. A thunderclap. End of scene.

SCENE THREE: Back in the Boardroom. A celebration.

BOARD CHAIR
Oh praise be. We’re in all the major papers.

CHORUS

People might actually buy tickets now. Three cheers for our fearless leader.

ROBERT

Who loves ya, baby?

A cracking noise.

BOARD CHAIR

Did you feel that?

Another loud noise. The ground starts to shake with great violence.

CHORUS

The Gods are angry. What have we done?

The sound of a train racing under the ground. A big-ass train.

BOARD CHAIR

Oh Gods. We beseech thee!

CHORUS
Make it stop. Make it stop. The Choo-Choo. Choo-Choo. Somebody make it stop.

ROBERT

THE GROUND! THE GROUND! THE GROUND ON WHICH I STAND IS SHAKING!

The ground breaks open. Smoke fills the room. Then the front of a train comes up

through the hole in the ground.

CHORUS

Very Steven Spielberg.

The door of the train opens and out comes HARRIET TUBMAN. The Chorus takes a few steps back, disassociating themselves from Robert.

HARRIET TUBMAN

Come on, everybody. Let’s get his ass.

NAT TURNER, HUEY P. NEWTON, and MALCOLM X come out of the train. Harriet Tubman brandishes her rifle and holds the Board of Directors at gunpoint while the men folk whip Robert’s ass for old and new. Then they high five each other.

HUEY P. NEWTON

Say something else. Jive turkey.

HARRIET TUBMAN

Aight, we out.

The Ancestors get back in their train and leave. Deuces.

Stunned silence from The Chorus. They gather around Robert. Slowly, they walk to the hole and stare into the abyss. Someone pushes Robert into the hole. He screams. They cheer.

BOARD CHAIR

Friends. This is no time for celebration.

CHORUS

But he was an asshat!

BOARD CHAIR

But now what do we do? The souls of Black folks unleashed a great reckoning on our theater as punishment for Ro –

CHORUS

Don’t speak his name ‘less they return.

BOARD CHAIR

But what do we do?

CHORUS

Somebody call Lloyd Richards.

Cheers all around.

BLACKOUT. END OF PLAY

I thought your imperialistic ass would dig that Greek chorus shit. I’m right, aren’t I?

And guess what? This play is gonna win a Pulitzer, too. How’s that for the best mind of the 17^th century? Oh you thought I was gonna let that slide? Like we used to say on the streets of Pittsburg. You got the right idea. But the wrong bitch. You tried it.

In closing…

You can kiss the pinkest part of the crack of my … oh wait… I said that already.

Be Blessed.

p.s. I forgot. Keep James Baldwin’s name outta your mouth.