whales

let's make a movie. you can be the timid marine botonist named jonas syntrecht, you can wear a fake moustache (how we gon get it to stay on underwater?), you dive every day and collect reefy things. in land scenes, you are dapper and wear a smart coat and hat, maybe smoke a pipe at the pub and discuss some made up latin words of wild-ass sea stuff, but you are shy, too shy to discuss your feelings, your main obsession besides coral reef, which is...

anyway, one day while diving for coral reefy things, you are swallowed by a whale. although you are initially shocked, you quickly realize that being swallowed by a whale was to you a bliss. that ambiguous obsession, maybe it was the warm embrace of the whale's insides. the whale's name is grace jones (no relation) and she has swallowed you because she is an aura-seeing whale and your aura looked really delicious. it turns out that she is really timid as well, more timid than even you. after a while in the whale, the honeymoon is over and you become verbally abusive to grace jones through her own stomach. and in one of your tirades you stop, this is not who you want to be, this jerk person. maybe just being in a whale is not the end all. maybe there is more to bliss than just living inside of a whale. so you go on a spiritual quest. obviously, your body doesnt go very far, it is still inside of grace jones, but in your mind you embark on a great journey. in your mind's eye, you have the jonas head and the body of a flying squirrel. (this part will be like psychedelic yellow submarine cartoons and what not.) you are a brawny flying squirrel, 6'3 177lbs. you traverse the mighty river, you explore the cave, emerging at the top of the mountain where there is a small temple. inside the temple, there is a small man and a small woman, leathered skin, smiling infectuously. they offer you some dinner, fishes with the head on, it is delicious. as you bid them farewell, they give you a puppet. you step out of their home and the mountain disintegrates, you are inside of grace jones again. at this point you realize how much money could be made from a talking whale. of course, no one understands grace jones when she speaks, even though she is speaking english (when speaking to english people of course. she is also fluent in many russian dialects, spanish, japanese, well, anywhere whales go). because whales speak at a frequency below the human range of hearing, and at a volume which could kill or paralyze anyone within a two mile radius, she thought it best to just not talk to anyone except other whales. but she found whales too overbearing or obtuse. she was a loner whale. jonas (you) can understand her because you are inside, where the voice starts, before it gets to rumble around in the whale's hugeness and get all big and deep and complicated. you can hear grace jones' intentions. intentions are wordless anyway. intentions made of words are called prayers and prayer doesnt work that way!

so you and grace jones locate an agent and move to san francisco (or somewhere) where you swim around in the bay all day, do two one-hour shows on week days, one two-hour show on saturday afternoon and sundays off. what it is, grace jones swallows a microphone and you interview her, or people will ask her questions, or the two of you will sing together, stuff like that. $100 a show plus a cut of the t-shirts, bumperstickers, etc merchandise profits. pretty sweet right?