This issue of the WZ is dedicated to the memory of Sibyl Darling, a woman who was quite as spectacular as her name, and much loved in my town. Yesterday was her memorial celebration and now these words are ready to be released into the larger sphere.

Our friend Sibyl

against our will, has departed for distant lands. 

This is unacceptable. 

To the powers-that-be that okay’d this, I have an opening statement to make on our behalves, those of us who are still on Earth and wish Sibyl were with us.

I will present this statement and if you in the audience agree, you can mentally murmur to yourself, “Co-sign” and if you do not agree, you can mentally murmur to yourself, “I do not co-sign” and then you will be entered on the record accordingly. 

The statement is as follows:

Fuck you.

[here the crowd did vigorously co-sign]

I have an old friend, an Annex* man I went to college with, Mr. Adrian LaTourelle. One summer in the late ‘80s he had the opportunity to go to the island of Bequia in the West Indies and study with the great acting teacher Sanford Meisner. Adrian came back and all of us drama babies sat at his feet while he told us stories but I only remember one, which I’m going to transfer into the second person because it’s not for him any more, it’s for us, but I thank him for it. Thank you, Adrian.

*Annex Theatre, Seattle

You were summoned onstage

and you awaited instructions. 

Sanford Meisner yelled, Cry! 

and you had to cry right that second, convincingly, the real thing, real tears, no prep time. He kept yelling at you

CRY! CRY! RIGHT NOW! 

and you were like what the fuck, holy shit, okay, Jesus, I’ll try, and you tried to cry, and maybe you got something going and maybe you didn’t, and maybe Sanford Meisner was yelling “I don’t believe you!” and maybe he wasn’t but in one minute he yelled

NOW LAUGH! 

Same deal real thing spit it out be laughing now YOU ARE TO BE LAUGHING NOW 

Oh shit

okay 

“Hahahahahaha” 

I don’t believe you!

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA”

 jesus 

LAUGH!

LAUGH! 

and you had to find it, you had to find real laughter, and maybe you got there and a second later the old man yelled

NOW CRY! 

That’s how it went. You were up there for several minutes (or a year, experientially) and you had to cry with your whole heart like precious life had been robbed from you and then you had to burst on a dime into full-on, no-fooling belly laughs, back and forth, from truth to truth, extreme to extreme.

LAUGH! CRY! LAUGH! CRY!

Brutal.

And perfect. Perfect training. I’ve never forgotten this story. Everybody should have to do this. Not just actors.

We need to stay ready. 

Wouldn’t it help?

I want to go back to my opening statement to the powers-that-be, which I stand by, the one about fuck you for taking Sibyl how you did. 

Fuck you, unacceptable 

is one true thing.

A piece of cake, I think. We got that one. One step ahead of you, Sanford.   

Now we can stay jammed onto this end, the fuck this end, and that’s legit. I endorse it. But. And. We’re living out the rest of our lives on our ridiculous, beloved, absurd home planet right now and the clock is ticking. We only have so long to feel everything. We’ve learned by now that we have no idea when we’re going. We better be able to toggle. We better be able to get to the other extreme.

Let’s think about the powers-that-be again.

They have her.

If they’re terrible, if we can’t at all trust the powers-that-be, and they have Sibyl, that’s not going to work.

I propose that the powers-that-be, who okayed this, are not terrible but unfathomable. I propose that we—who have no choice in the matter of Sibyl’s whereabouts—toggle over to some kind of total, blazing, full-bodied acceptance.

I’m going to try to sweeten that deal so bear with me.

Furthermore. It’s getting dicey around here. Earth. I don’t need to say anything else about that.

I’ve heard reports, as we all have, from various sources

near-death-experience-havers, mediums, mystics, clairvoyants, etc

that what’s going on when you’ve shaken this body off, the afterlife, is, in a word, rad.

The afterlife is rad, ostensibly.

The place, the experience, the vibe of the afterlife, infinitely superior to this shit-show.

A world, as our friend Prince said, of never-ending happiness. U can always see the sun. Day. Or Night.

So, to help us toggle over to full-on, blazing, joyful acceptance, Meisner-style, at least for a moment—or at least to imagine that we could if we wanted to—I want to point out some features that are either

• for sure the deal in the afterlife (or)

• they could be 

• (or) I for some reason think they are

Number one. No money. You don’t need any money. No bills, no experiences you can’t afford. Money is no object. You never have to sweat it again. You do not need a purse or a wallet or a bank account. Or a phone. Wherever you go, you didn’t forget anything and you don’t need anything. You don’t need to have locked anything, you don’t need to have turned off the stove.  You don’t have to pack. No baby-sitters, pet-sitters, plant-waterers, permission, tickets, logistics.

You want to do it, boom. You’re doing it. 

Number two. There may be countless thousands of people we’ve loved before that we haven’t seen in a while. Massive reunion. Huge party.

I see it, I buy it, I want it, I think it. 

Number three. No bodies doing limiting shit. We’re not in pain, we’re not slow, we feel great. No headaches. Light as air.

Always never a body problem. Incredible. 

Number four, I kind of made it up. But I really like it and I’m suggesting it.

I feel that there is a café, a bar, something, infinitely vertical. The ambience, the look, can be anything. No floors or ceilings, how I see it, but chairs and tables hovering at various levels as far as the eye can see going up and down. There’s always a table as big as you want and there’s never a wait. 

The thing, the cool thing, the special thing that makes it different from Earth is that famous people from history that you want to talk to will meet you at this place and you can ask them whatever you want, you can hang out. They’ll answer any question you want and give you advice and you’ll tell each other stories and you might become friends and this is on tap 24/7.

I think this. I kind of genuinely think this.   

Now, why, the question might be why, why would everybody who ever existed make themselves available in this way?

The answer is either because they’re nice, or they have time, or they get points. They can redeem them for something.

But whoever Sibyl wants, they’re there. However Sibyl wants to feel, wherever she wants to go, she can do it.

And I think, also,

I believe, really,

that if Sibyl wants to be with us, we who are still here, she can do that whenever she wants, too. 

I think this place is right on top of us. 

I think there’s extreme overlap. 

I think she doesn’t suffer the same loss we suffer. I think she has us if she wants us. And I think we can sit at her table. I think, as always, Sibyl being Sibyl, that there’s room.