The fundamental subject of Not Most People: The Pornographist's Tale is death as a philosophical problem of which all thinking men and women are conscious. Set in an unidentified state penitentiary, the play dramatizes love as that human possibility which enables us to live fulfilled, purposeful lives despite our mortality and our lack of knowledge of what, if anything, may await us after death. The playwright argues that, given our mortality, no form or expression of human love is obscene or immoral, that, in fact, when confronted by the greatest obscenity we experience, namely death, love is essential to our living happy and healthy lives. This is so precisely because death is both natural and inevitable. It is not a creation of man, and few if any would choose to die had they a choice. This theme is dramatized most vividly through the protagonist of the play, Thomas Wright. The pornographist of the title, Thomas is doing time for having had sexual relations with Kyle, a minor, and for sexually assaulting one of the models for the Web site he had been operating, a site dedicated to the bondage and torture of young men. Questions of morality are raised since Kyle, who celebrates his eighteenth birthday weeks after Thomas' incarceration, loves Thomas and the sexual assault charge is based on perjured testimony. In the course of the action and through the intercession of two strong women, attorney Gloria Pelham and Episcopal priest Susan Murray, most of the major characters experience the transformative power of love. These include Brad, a serial rapist and Thomas' neighbor in an adjacent cell; Vincent, a friend of and former model for Thomas and Vincent's girlfriend Katie; Kyle's mother Colleen Bernard, and Thomas himself. Kyle alone, in his unflinching love, is vindicated

Auszug. � Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

NOT MOST PEOPLE: THE PORNOGRAPHIST'S TALE

(A Play in Nine Acts)

By Len Blanchard

AuthorHouse

ACT I...................................................................... 1
ACT II..................................................................... 31
ACT III.................................................................... 57
ACT IV..................................................................... 99
ACT V...................................................................... 129
ACT VI..................................................................... 165
ACT VII.................................................................... 217
ACT VIII................................................................... 273
ACT IX..................................................................... 339

CHAPTER 1

ACT I

SCENE 1

The setting for the following dialogue is a prison cell. Thecell is barely furnished with a bed which resembles an armycot, one wooden straight-backed chair, and a simple woodentable measuring three-by-four feet. On the table is a metalcontainer about the size of a fishing tackle box providedfor the inmate's valuables. A bare light bulb hangs fromthe center of the ceiling. This is the only light in the cell.A commode and an adjacent sink protrude from the backstone wall of the cell. High up in this wall, nearly abuttingon the ceiling, is a window about a foot long and six incheswide. The two sides of this fifteen-feet-or-so deep cell arecement walls extending about waist high topped by a rowof black iron bars set about three inches apart. On the rightside of this cell as one faces it is a similar cell. The frontof each of these twin cells is a barred wall about seven oreight feet wide containing a door which opens on a long,bare corridor. Both of the men speaking are middle-aged.Thomas, the inmate, is dressed in a gray jumpsuit with awhite t-shirt, the regulation prison garb, and the priest iswearing a black suit with black shirt and a white clericalcollar.

THOMAS: No, not even now, Father. Though I may have to spendthe next fifteen years, for all I know the rest of my life,in this pen, I've no regrets for what I've done, for while Idid it I was alive, alive as most men never are, can't evenunderstand.

PRIEST: But Thomas, what about the life to come? The life afterdeath? Should this not be a concern?

THOMAS: Oh give me a break, Father! What do you really knowabout what happens to us when we die? How do youknow anything happens at all? And in the mean timewe're living now, in a world we can see, feel and touch!

PRIEST: My faith assures me our souls don't die, Thomas. Theylive eternally, either with the Lord, in Paradise, or inHell, without him.

THOMAS: Yes, yes. So I've heard. With all due respect, Father, tome your faith is nothing but a fairy tale.

PRIEST: But isn't it wise to be prudent? In the possibility thatwhat you call a fairy tale is fact, indeed, is the truth?

THOMAS: So that I don't find myself in hellfire and brimstone, inagony, forever, you mean?

PRIEST: Well, yes, to put it crudely. I'd say there is no greaterpunishment than that of being condemned to eternalseparation from the Almighty Creator, our loving Father,the author of all life. Such separation would be agony,for me.

THOMAS: You mean the same "loving Father" who created death?

PRIEST: After a moment's hesitation, during which time he isobviously flustered, the priest responds. But he also createdlife, your life, Thomas. And as creatures born to sin,death is our natural, our fitting and proper end. Death isnot evil.

THOMAS: Oh really? You really believe that? Forgive me onceagain, Father, but I think you're missing something bighere. Do you think for one minute that with no deathyou'd have a job?

PRIEST: Flustered yet again, the priest nevertheless composes himselfsufficiently to ask, What do you mean?

THOMAS: I mean that the only reason people go to church anddrop their offerings in the basket, and ask you to forgivetheir sins, and cry at funerals is because people knowthey're going to die; they know death is real. And peoplegenerally don't want to admit that, for all we reallyknow, death is final. The end. Kaput!

As he speaks this last statement, Thomas makes a motionwith his right hand and forefinger as if to slit his throat.Then, under the influence of his strong emotion, Thomasstands, turns around so that his back is now facing thepriest, and leans his forehead against the cement rear wallof his cell.

PRIEST: But, Thomas, my son, as you yourself say, "for all weknow." Is there not, at least, the possibility of life eternal?

THOMAS: Thomas speaks without turning around. Have you everbeen to Disneyland, Father? Or to Orlando?

PRIEST: Why, yes. I've taken several youth groups to Disneylandin past years. Just this past summer, I led a group ofmiddle school children on a weekend trip. But why?Why do you ask?

THOMAS: Oh, I don't know. Thomas rocks his foreheadback-and-forth on the wall as he remains slouched overand not looking at his auditor. It just struck me. What if,let's just say, all the power along the Pacific coast, fromSeattle to San Diego, suddenly went out. For days. Sothat even the back-up generators eventually quit. Withno end to the power failure in sight. What wouldhappen to Disneyland then?

PRIEST: I don't see the relevance, Thomas. I don't see howDisneyland and eternity with the Lord are related.

THOMAS: With this, Thomas straightens abruptly and, standing erect,turns around to face the priest. Oh, come on, Peter! Youmean to tell me you don't have imagination sufficientto wonder whether your Heaven is nothing but aDisneyland in the sky?

PRIEST: The priest grows suddenly stern, even hostile, in manner.While we knew each other as high school kids, Thomas,I don't think your familiarity is appropriate. And sin is aserious matter. Especially the kind of sin of which youare guilty. Profiting from the exploitation of young men!Engaging in a sexual relationship with a minor!

THOMAS: He was fucking seventeen, your highness! He wantedme. And I was fond of him. I still am. Very fond, as Ihope he understands. And all these so-called exploitedyoung men knew what they were doing and werewilling, even happy to be doing it. You may call that sin.I, for one, don't see it that way. And though you werea senior in high school when I was a sophomore someforty years ago, that hardly makes me your son or youmy father.

PRIEST: Ignoring what he considers an insult, he continues, Manywould agree with me that your actions were obscene. Asyour language is. Your obscene actions are, after all, thereason you're occupying this cell in the first place.

THOMAS: Nothing is more obscene than death, your highness.And death is not of man's devising. Certainly, I had nosay in the matter. What, then, does that make of thisgod in whom you profess to have such faith? You, andbillions of other scared and brain-washed sheep. And,for that matter, of this god's laws? Am I supposed totremble in fear of these laws which attempt to stifle thevery life you say this god created? Is this god of yoursa sadist? Does he enjoy setting humanity...

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Blanchard, Len

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