Clap Your Hands | The New Engagement

Clap Your Hands

By Seamus Scanlon

Victor - corrupt person and entity

Young girl - uncorrupted entity

 

VICTOR crouches stage center head bowed. Full length of this slave song Early in the Morni’ plays (4.42).

GIRL enters stage left and approaches and touches him on the shoulder

VICTOR begins monologue

 

My name is Victor the non boy-wonder.

My middle name is pain but it is no wonder.

 

I was born unblessed battered bereft.

A broken colt from a beautiful mare.

 

My mother said - Victor - I wish I killed ya.

I was only sixteen - no one would have missed ya.

 

I saw my Daddy off with a flying dragon kick.

A mystical creature inside me did the trick.

 

He was asking for it before you ask me!

So don’t give me - my God that’s just ghawstly (English accent).

 

He smashed through the banisters with a yelp.

He tried to grab the air, which wasn’t much help.

 

He landed on his neck and bent it madly.

He would need a chiropractor very badly.

 

Clap your hands - stomp your feet.

That’s the kinda music that has a great beat.

 

Clap your hands stomp your feet.

Snap crackle Daddy in a great big heap.

 

My name is Victor the long living corrupter.

When the child is harmed the celestial light fades.

Consummatum est  I am at my best.

 

In all things fundamental I will hurt you.

The angel of Victor is above you.

 

In the hold of Irish coffin ships from Galway.

Chained together on slave ships from the black Congo.

 

In the narrow culverts of Crossmaglen.

In the grey gas chambers of Bergen Belsen.

 

On the highways to Elysium you can’t stop me.

In the sky above Hiroshima you can’t spot me.

 

With fracking wells I will poison your babies deep.  

In the slick highways I will slay you in your family jeep.

 

In Vietnam I will Agent Orange spray you.

In Guantanamo forever I will hold you.

 

In solitary confinement - I will shackle you.

Into shallow graves in Cambodia - I will shovel you.

 

In Spain I will Catholic Inquisition you.

In Mississippi I will high tree lynch you.

 

In Syria I will saran gas you.

In Fukishima I will radioactive ion bathe you.

 

In Iraq I will IED blast you.

In Afghanistan I will high sky drone you.

 

In New York I will suicide plane through you.

 

Clap you hands stomp your feet

That’s the kinda music that has a great beat

 

Clap your hands stomp your feet

Victor is the killer that you (to audience – take time to point) made complete.

 

QUIETLY

 

Clap you hands stomp your feet

Listen to the blue light that is in you deep. (points at child)

 

Clap you hands stomp your feet

The cosmic mother in you

Adores the child Victor heart beat.

 

Clap you hands stomp your feet

You (points at audience) can stop the dervish (points at self) with the killing dance beat.

 

Clap you hands stamp your feet

That’s the kinda music that has the best beat.

 

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