Objective: To goad a silent, indifferent companion into conversation.
Super-objective: To determine how alone he really is.
Outcome: DAN is unresponsive, completely shuts out JAMES.
James is sitting in a bucket seat in front of a console covered in dial, lights, screens and knobs. His feet are carelessly propped up . He leans back, staring out a window at a starry sky and a bright round object which could be earth or the moon. Dan crouches on the floor, repairing a spacesuit.
JAMES: Dan.
Silence.
Dan?
No answer.
You know that irritating either/or fallacy that starts with, “There are two kinds of people in the world?” You know what I think? It starts with this curious, unchallenged premise: everyone, every single person in the world, holds a metaphorical glass partially filled with liquid. This stuff, obviously, symbolyzes the life of that individual. Why the glasses are never filled to the brim or completely empty, I don’t know. It seems arbitrary. One man - Man, Everyman, whatever - looks at his glass and unquestioningly accepts the fact that his life happens to be in liquid form. He’s just glad that it’s not empty, despite his stumbles and attempts to drink it to the dregs. He says, “My glass is half full; I have another chance at life.” This man’s optimistic reaction is generally admired by the the rest of us tipplers.
Another person, a . . . woman, let’s say, in the interests of equity, tilts her glass against the light, and sees only what has been drained away from her. She wonders what she’ll be left with at the end of the day. She complains, “Who spilled this? My glass is half empty.” This woman’s attitude is not excused. She’ll be encouraged to swirl the liquid around in the glass till she sees a second chance floating there and then tie her life up neatly into a happy ending so we can all toast each other.
Dan, you’re one of the first types, I think. You don’t seem to care what glass you’ve been handed.
Me? I want to know what the heck I’m drinking, anyway.
DAN is putting the space suit on.
(Raising voice) Look at you, you just stand there and humour me. What, are you waiting for me to talk myself into a corner, give up and fall into line with the rest of you glass-half-full dupes? Wait for it then.
DAN exits through an airlock.
(More quietly) Why do I have to drink this stuff at all?
