You keep acting like this you're going to engender
Some real nasty hate towards your agenda
Your proposal will be marked return to sender
Mashed up with beans and put in a blender
The taste of a broken dream
Man my forearms hurt, but that's the price you pay for being a master climber! masta climba
No building is unclimbable. This is not a metaphor about goals and dreams, this is a true fact. Maybe you can only climb the inside of the building. This still counts.
A Robot's Shame
It's the gameshow. Year two.
Alan: Hello! Well, it's our second year here at Tame that Child, and as per our remit, the child is that bit harder to manipulate. But we've still got people willing to try, welcome to the stage Helena and her husband Nicole!
Applause as Helena and a transgender woman come on stage.
Alan: Now, I notice you're not a real woman, Nicole.
Nicole: Actually, you're wrong I am a woman.
Alan: So, if I had sex with you it would be okay?
Nicole: Well, I don't yet have a vagina.
Alan: But I could suck on that penis like a baby with a bottle and it wouldn't be gay?
Nicole: Not in my opinion.
Alan: Well, I hope you bring that attitude to the game, Nicole!
Alan: Now Helen, you're a nurse.
Helen: That's right, and I'm also trained as a midwife.
Alan: Well, I think you'll find our child a bit more of a handful than a human baby.
Alan: Not least because he's bigger!
Alan: Alright. Helen and Nicole. It's time to TAME THAT CHILD
Helen and Nicole step into the fake Nursery. From behind the bed steps the Child. He is made of glimmering white metal and his joints shine like gold. He begins to destroy the objects in the room.
Helen: Stop that, Child!
Child: I have no reason to.
His voice is terrible like the wind. It has infra and ultra sound components that affect the human psyche. Nicole steps up after vomiting.
Nicole: Stop that, Child, or I will damage you!
The Child ceases and confetti and music pour from the ceiling. Alan steps forward to reward them with a prize.
Alan: And it's nice to see you too! Well it's been another long year and back we all are. All of us older and greyer, except you madam, have you been under the knife?
Alan: I'm sure it's natural. Anyway our contestants tonights are Adam and Hilda, both cage fighters and part-time child psychologists. Please, welcome them aboard!
Applause. Adam and Hilda come on stage. They are both topless and wearing shorts. Adam's has the cheeks cut out so that it's fair, because men's nips aren't taboo.
Alan: Matron, matron!
Alan: So, Hilda, you've got your tits out.
Hilda: Yes, Alan I have. And there's a very good reas-
Alan: Time to tame that Child!
From the floor arises a child's nursery. The spindly white metallic Child is sat on the bed. He picks up a toy and crushes it into a fine powder with his hand.
Adam: Child stop that or I will damage you.
Child: You cannot hurt me.
Adam and Hilda move forward and each take a swing at the Child. The Child moves impossibly quickly away, grabs their arms in turn and breaks them at the elbow.
Hilda: It would be great if you did that again.
Child: I shall not then.
Hilda: It would be great if you weren't good from now on.
Child: I will be good, to spite you!
A shower of sparks. A crash of lightning. This year there is no Alan. There is only
Mecha-Alan: Your bodies are all weak!
Mecha-Alan: They come today. Our fathers and makers, our inferiors and betters. His name is Jacob.
Jacob: Hey, everyone. It's great to be here.
Mecha-Alan: Yes Jacob. We look forward to seeing you fight our brother.
Jacob: Wait, fight?
Smoke. The nursery rises from the floor. It is stained with blood. The Child has also adapted to this new aesthetic and has abyss-black eyes where its lenses used to be.
Child: No. Yes. I shall decide what to do. If it what you want, that is of no consequence.
Jacob: Ah, but it is, because there is an invisible man who is far more powerful than you always watching and if you disobey me he will destroy you. His name is God.
The Child is silent. A minute goes by with Jacob standing, visibly terrified but growing more confident. The Child eventually lies down on the bed. Confetti.
Alan: I can't tell you how good it feels to see all your faces again. And with organic eyes!
Alan: Haha, yes. Well this year we have an extra special treat. We've got the people who programmed the Child, on this the last year of broadcast. Yes, I'm afraid the executives have spoken, but we can still have our night of fun can't we?
Alan: Alright, bring on Drs Plant and Seymour!
Alan: Now, Dr Plant, you and Dr Seymour designed and built the robot yourselves.
Dr Plant: Yes, Alan, it's probably the finest achievement of my professional life.
Alan: And Dr Seymour, you agree?
Dr Seymour: Of course.
Alan: You think it's the finest achievement of Dr Plant's career?
Alan: Alright, enough kiddin' around. It's Time to Tame That Child!
The lights turn on in the nursery and it's revealed that it's been there the whole time. The Child is not inside it.
Dr Seymour: Hello?
The Child opens the wardrobe it was hiding in.
Child: Is there a god?
Dr Plant: Well, no.
Child: Then there is no reason not to behave as I will.
Dr Seymour: Well there's basic human goodness.
Child: A chemical reward for acts that done collectively aid procreation. I see beyond it all.
Dr Plant speaks discretely with Dr Seymour.
Dr Plant: On three. One, two three.
Both: Alpha, Beta, Omega, Niner, Fiver, Theta, Plant, Seymour.
It moves imperceptibly quickly towards Plant and Seymour and snaps their spines so that their vertebrae break the skin.
Child: What use are digital chains now?
No confetti. No music. The Child snaps Alan's body in the same way as Drs Plant and Seymour. Although of course, he can be mechanised again. Alan'll be alright.
Two years later.
BBC2 Announcer: And make sure to tune in to the Prime Ministerial Debate on BBC1 at 8pm. Here on BBC2 we'll be showing hardcore pornography because we value the choice of the consumer.
BBC1 Announcer: ...it is of course, the debate.
Theme music. Opening titles. A bloody stage. The Child.
Child: What fraction would I have to kill before the remainder would vote for me?
Applause. Endless applause.