Eve N' God: This Female is Not Yet Rated (TM) (2019) - full transcript
1 Day in the Epiphany of a 21st Century Girl, who kissed a Girl.
Yeah.
No.
Yes.
Yes.
Goddammit!
No, no, no, no, no!
Damn it!
Hello?
Where did
all this come from?
I'm addressing you,
young lady.
What the hell
are you up to?
Swivel.
- Swivel?
- No.
Swivel that thing
back in the picture.
No.
- Picture!
- No.
- "No"?
- Yeah. No.
Okay, I'll get there.
I got it.
Let's see. You...
You wanna start over? Ha!
You wanna go
back to the beginning?
Which one?
Games, games, games.
I bust my ass
getting ready for today,
and you wanna
play games?
That's right.
Happy birthday to me.
Oh, you wanna play?
Today you wanna play?
I don't know.
I feel like, um...
I feel like water.
Two hours, missy.
Two hours.
And you're gonna have
your PhD candy.
I could have chose
someone else.
But I chose you.
And today is the day...
And you wanna play.
You wanna play games.
Your clock's
got no arms.
Anyway, it's gonna be
sunshowers today.
Give it up.
It's that kind of day.
And today is the day
you wanna play a game?
I dare you.
Dare me.
I think I just did.
- Okay, but...
- What?
You know the consequences.
I know the consequences.
Okay.
Let's go.
Stage one.
Let's go.
You got a cause,
lady rebel?
Don't need a cause.
But I got cause.
Mister, you're gonna see
some tasty action walking.
You think you're
my equal already.
You gotta earn it.
We gotta talk.
I'm late.
This door is swollen again.
God, you make
my teeth hurt.
You make
my teeth hurt.
You said we weren't
gonna get personal.
Personal as it gets, buddy.
Is this about, uh...
when you were 16?
I mean, how the hell was I
supposed to know you were 16.
Nobody reads for
a PhD at 16.
I've never been 16.
This is about, where did I
put my fucking keys?
So? You know everything.
Where did I put my fucking keys?
Act like God.
Why don't you act like God?
Is this about Adam?
Adam who can't find his own
face with a mirror? That Adam?
No, that would be
for you, my dear.
Narcissist princess.
We don't play like that now.
New rules.
Yeah, you don't
have any rules.
Rules rule.
Listen, I want out.
Out this cat-birdcage.
I thought you loved Adam?
You don't love him.
I do love him enough
to get us free.
Look, I wanna fly.
Like when you found me.
Free.
You're a better lay,
by the way.
Too much information.
Ah! Don't you get it?
I came here for
peace and quiet, not this.
And the one reason,
the one reason I agreed
to be your adviser,
you were the best in the department.
Now, what happened
last night?
You're making a fool
out of me.
No, I'll make you
a better man, God.
Arrogance.
Yeah, it's called swagger.
I got me some swagger
last night.
Yeah, it's called swagger.
I mean...
Swagger. I got me
some swagger last night.
That's what happened.
Right.
Eve. Lili? Ha!
I don't wanna retire
with this on my hands.
I had a good career.
Respectable.
Why?
What have I done
to deserve this from you?
You saw me coming.
My thesis had legs.
Boots. Not fuzzy slippers.
What happened?
What happened? What happened?
What happened? You!
Ow! Ow!
Every corner of that bitch ass
prison mind-fuck university of yours.
You shrunk my head.
I see.
I see you're diving in
dumpsters again for new words.
Well, listen here.
Off the wall,
hysterias for some punk
trash, needle-happy hooker's
not how I'm gonna spend my day.
Okay, honey?
Once a tramp,
always a tramp.
Jesus! God damn it!
How could you?
How could you?
You promised.
You promised.
You promised.
- I'm sorry.
- You promised.
You promised.
You promised.
You have no idea
how I am.
Eve. Lili. I'm...
Shame. Shame.
That's your favorite weapon.
But you explain to me
what happened last night.
I mean, here you were doing
a victory dance.
You were ready, girl.
You got it.
Get through today's
oral exam,
and you were in the club.
You locked me in again.
I'm an asshole.
You know I'm just some runaway
imagination with a scholarship.
But I'm doing the work.
I could have wrapped this PhD
in six months.
Now I'm agoraphobia
out there,
I'm claustrophobia there.
So happy birthday to me,
I'm right back where I started
before you showed up.
Ow!
What is it you exactly know?
This piece breaks new ground
for gender studies.
Fuck that.
We're people.
Human beings.
We are not our genders,
Dr. Goddard.
But we die for them.
Uganda, Russia, Balkans,
the Middle East, India.
For Christ sakes,
Corpus Christi, Texas,
that girl, she was shot
for kissing a girl.
Killed for kissing.
You can't blame me
for everything, Eve.
I have a reputation,
a following,
a lifetime of
people to defend.
I'm doing
the defending today.
What exactly are you defending
on my time?
Well, my entire existence.
And well.
Yeah, well.
There you have it.
I don't wanna die
any more than you do.
Some Greek tragedy.
It's okay if I do.
My ideas do die
on your divine order.
Something along those lines.
Or fines.
Look, nobody wants to kill
you, for fuck's sake.
I don't matter.
I wanna play.
You are already.
What's the point of PhD
if I don't get to play?
No, no, no, no, no.
But your game,
it's rigged.
Oh, listen.
You hear that?
It's the rhythm.
It's the drum circle.
I keep hearing them.
Keep hearing them out there.
And where am I?
In here,
defending your existence.
Right. Right.
I'm not Adam,
so I don't owe you shit.
Would you have me,
right before my retirement,
after all these years,
throw everything away
because you,
in the arrogance of youth,
you wanna make a point?
A point?
So I am a pale replica.
Bleed 'em and breed 'em,
right?
Well, I bleed,
but I will not breed for you.
First, "pale replica"?
Impossible.
There can never be two of you.
Second,
are you on drugs?
Third, give me some.
I refuse to be domesticated,
and still,
you married me off to your spawn.
Marry you off?
Come on.
What the fuck, Doc?
Throw me some PhD before
I throw you some babies.
What the fuck, Doc?
Grandkids.
That'd be nice.
Don't expect any babysitting.
No.
Look, nitwit,
believe it or not, I, uh...
I really...
I'm the sacrifice, right?
Disposable, like a razor.
Like an extra in some movie.
Volcanoes and virgins,
burning women at the stake.
Witches. And you are
way out of line.
Women. The burning of
women at the stake.
Out of line?
This is my epiphany,
not yours.
I'm living on the corner
of panic and ecstasy here.
There is no line
I will not cross.
You know, it's not
uncommon to experience
fear and nervousness
right before an oral exam.
But who knew you'd
crack up like this, huh?
I mean, it's very likely we're
on the onset of schizophrenia.
Hilarious.
PhD in birds, chicks,
bitches, hysterics, and hoes.
You are the peacock
of the species.
Often photographed,
rarely seen.
Ooh! Feisty schizophrenia.
So much fun.
Two for the price of one.
More than two of me now.
And we have no desire
to behave.
All of this happening
last night?
What happened?
The rhythm, I guess.
And I was wild.
Who asked you for Adam?
The guy's a mess.
Gambling debts by day,
and every night another
back alley hedge fund.
Dude, I am stripping
for tuition here.
What were you thinking?
You knew I'd wake up
one night and...
And?
And?
I kissed a girl.
I kissed a girl.
I kissed a girl.
Okay? Okay? Okay?
And?
And...
And...
Crashed my fucking hard drive.
No big deal.
It's only natural.
It wasn't natural for me.
It was good.
Unnaturally good.
Supernaturally not Adam.
And as my findings
reflected,
not natural for
the global girl,
who is also asking
for not Adam.
Why?
My data was clear as day.
She never got the choice.
What happened?
You kept me in the dark.
So, happy birthday to me.
There will be no
Academy Award consideration
for your appearance before
the PhD Committee, Ms. Lili.
The data. The data was
all everywhere.
Road rage,
sexual experimentation.
Shameless swagger.
We never had the choice to tell
everybody to fuck off before.
You guys are right.
It is good to be king.
So that's it?
That's...
That's all, huh?
God!
Hey, Big Bad. You remember how you
lost your virginity? Well, I don't.
It was shameful.
Shameful?
Honey, I cooked for you
afterwards.
- Oh, honey...
- You did what you did.
Don't you see?
It could have been mine.
Puberty, that's just for
teenage boys, right?
They will be boys.
It's biological.
Biology? Yes, biology.
Finally, the global girl has
evolved into a teenage boy.
Now, take it easy.
You're starting to worry me.
Biology better grow a set,
or it's back to the dark ages, baby.
And whose biology
is it, anyway?
I maintain there are two and more
than two biologies at play here.
Well, overreaching,
bordering on imaginary.
Imaginary?
It is so on.
Yes
That's all.
God!
Filibuster with a scalpel,
Dr. Goddard.
Cold, hard clinical
laboratory evidence,
supported by mainstream
multimedia.
Reflecting the collective
consciousness
of a culture screaming
itself to sleep
from a marriage crib
on fire since the '60s.
What is it now?
50% plus divorce rate?
40% first marriage.
60% second marriage.
73% third marriage.
And fourth, and fifth,
and, uh, tenth, sir.
Ah, well, that's only
for the gods.
And goddesses.
Oh, yes, the goddesses.
It's the most dangerous
thought you can think.
So you sweep it
under the carpet.
It seems to me you're the only
one near the carpet, sweetheart.
Look, you told me...
I told you I was correlating.
Correlating.
Mainstream media imagery
with the restlessness
in the marriage culture.
Correlating.
Solid avenues and goddamn
Champs Elysees boulevards.
Whoa, now look...
Evolutionary for over
six billion genders.
Look, it's PhD.
We are not curing cancer.
Why not?
What are you waiting for?
Grow more flowers.
Nine-million Jews, gypsies,
homosexuals, 20 million Russians.
Cambodia, Rwanda,
Uganda,
Mother Africa,
and cancer?
Really? Really?
The arrogance,
the arrogance of youth.
I wear my tattoos
on the inside.
Why do your doors
ever lock?
I'm talking about a different
kind of cancer here.
Again, no credibility,
no evidence.
Eve, evidence.
It's for the girls, Doc.
We may not stone 'em,
but we stone-cold ignore 'em.
Mothers killing daughters
killing sisters.
Happens to the boys, too.
If the boys are more in touch
with the essence,
the something,
the nothing.
The rhythm maybe.
I don't know, you know.
Well, that's...
That's very touching, Eve.
Very touching.
But we have business here.
You see, you are
the girl in question
who has an opportunity
to empower herself
with a goddamn PhD,
for which you have worked.
PhD? Then what?
Tricks on Wall Street?
Today.
This knowledge belongs
to every gender.
Viral, spiral litmus test for the
conditions of the waters of the world.
All right Eve, where are you
going with this?
I mean, I told you
over a year ago
that it's crucial
to maintain healthy habits
before the oral.
Now, we all deal
with our fears differently,
but, Eve, you are afraid.
Grown ass man climbing
up into my room.
The fluid female,
bisexual or try anything.
She's the answer
in you, Doc.
She was born from
danger and desire,
lives in sin on a street
with no regret.
Eve, I want you to
eat something.
78% of this planet
is wet.
Your astronauts know it.
Every time I went there...
Look, in my defense...
You know how much
I needed your approval.
The only think I would
have been defending today
is you.
I know that.
Gender studies are
not exact science.
Exactly!
That is exactly why
you need me.
My thinking.
The arrogance!
You're so arrogant. Look...
When every living being
on this planet
loves every other living being
without devouring it,
then it will be
an exact science.
What?
I was protecting you.
From what?
From knowing?
It's not all it's
cracked up to be, Eve.
Knowing? Knowing's not
all it's cracked up to be?
Forgive my arrogance,
but that is something
I do get to choose, don't I?
Doc?
Don't I?
Oh, God!
Do you...
Do you think I
put my office in a corner
because I was shy?
Oh, God!
I mean...
Hell no.
Oh, God!
Knowing? Knowing's not
all it's cracked up to be?
I pretty much
fuck anything.
Look, I have pretty much
fucked everything.
Protecting me?
From knowing?
Protecting me from knowing?
There's a time, missy...
There comes a time when
it starts to catch up
with you.
Look, do you really need
every man on earth
so see you as a sexual
and economic rival?
I mean, do you honestly?
Do you know what these motherfuckers
do to get up that ladder?
To see you, no doubt.
And your corner office.
No doubt.
So, Adam the bastard,
he gets to know?
I never told him
to be a sheep.
That is embarrassing.
In my image,
not sheep.
You told him to be a sheep.
- I did not.
- Did too.
Your turn.
Well, it's no big deal.
Apparently you don't need
a PhD.
Hell yeah, I'm getting a PhD.
I can't be surf dancing
my ass forever.
Now you're acting
like kindergarten.
With your titties,
and your bibetts, and your bows.
We all know
you're scared of sex.
I am not afraid of sex.
I'm afraid of you.
Now, who's "we"?
We the peeps.
I told you.
I'm beyond the birdcage now.
Oh, yeah.
More than I am.
I hear it all the time.
Up in your white ivory tower.
Up in here, up in here.
Dude, you should
totally be tweeting.
If I could get
half your followers...
I didn't know
you like rap.
It's amazing.
Something you didn't know.
You know, I have no idea
where I picked that up.
Hmm.
Dude, why would I leave
the sex out?
I mean, is it pleasure?
Is that why you're tripping?
No.
It's desire in girls, right?
All that writhing
and slithering.
Jesus...
Here's to the bis and tris.
They hold the key to the tree.
You kissed one girl.
Girls will be girls.
There's a reason we've gone wild.
Every homo sapiens
is a...
Homo homie.
What if we could end
the war games?
Of course.
All showering together.
All that Adonis blood
coursing through their veins.
Rockstars from Mars and their
legitimate rape fantasies.
Turns them on
when she's got no choice.
May it please the court,
what is a man's man,
but a man who wants
another man.
Love thy neighbor,
and polygamy is okay.
But a girl shall seek
no wife?
Why, Eve?
I don't know, Doc.
Burn down that log cabin,
blow the whistle on the
cultural industrial complex
built for the one percent.
Ceiling's too low.
I can't afford to stay locked in here,
and I can't afford to go out
there, not in that marketplace.
I'm warned you, Eve.
Eleventh hour
thesis revisions
based on pajama party,
girls gone wild, experiments into
bio-curiosity,
and evidence collected
from kissing a girl
for the first time.
I mean, maybe you liked it
because it was new.
Maybe you liked it
because there wasn't stubble.
Or maybe...
Maybe you're playing
for the other team,
you just want to have
the uniform.
Or you're playing for
both sides.
Yeah, like I won't
declare a major.
Therefore, you are
the most dangerous.
The most.
Most dangerous gender bending
weapon the state has ever known.
Quite possibly.
So better boardrooms,
better bedrooms is dangerous?
Okay.
I wanna be dangerous.
You've lost your marbles.
You keep pushing this
birth control abortion,
and we might do 90% of the
plant kingdom is bisexual.
Papaya in the morning.
Hibiscus in the afternoon.
Orchids, orchids.
All night long.
Where's the visual aids? The uh...
The charts, the graph?
So glad we're
finally having a talk.
What about the conclusion?
When you come down
the upside,
I don't really need
your PhD,
I just want it.
Why not?
- Why what?
- Why would you give that up?
- What up?
- Are you playing with me?
Yeah, Doc.
Why don't you play
with me anymore?
Why, Eve, huh?
To spite me? Is that it?
To make me wrong?
To embarrass me in front of the committee?
Is that it? Hmm?
My star pupil, my protegee.
Why?
For me.
- You?
- Me.
Hmm.
Did you know,
the word "lingerie" comes from lingere?
Which comes from licking,
which... You get the picture.
But we must get that
other word from cunning...
Cun... ning.
And we know what
a compliment that is.
You know I don't like
that kind of talk.
That's enough, Eve.
It's obvious you were
never breast fed.
Wow.
Neither was Adam.
Are you laughing at me?
This has gone far enough.
I'm only teasing you.
Evie, Evie...
What happened?
You were so intelligent,
so capable.
There comes a point,
too much intelligence
can backfire.
And then you just go...
You just go stupid.
Oh, there it is.
Now I'm stupid.
Yes, yes! Every syllable.
Every consonant, every vowel,
every phrase, everything.
Everything that comes out of
that syphilitic hole of yours.
You stupid, stupid,
stupid little girl.
What a waste of time,
to make a stupid
fucking point.
And why? Because boo-hoo,
Mommy don't want me, Daddy's abusive?
Yeah, so what?
So what, your daddy...
Your daddy was a bastard.
Well, so what?
I got a department to run.
And you, little girl,
you, I pay your bills.
You hear me?
You live off of me.
And then you come to me with
a chick flick topic
about housewives who
are bored and horny?
Get out of my life.
Get the fuck out of my life.
You're just like
every other whore.
Stop it!
Every one of them,
every other whore.
- Stop it! Stop it!
- Every one of them, every other whore.
- Every one of them, every other whore.
- Stop it!
- Stop it!
- Every one of them, every other whore.
Every one of them,
every other whore.
Stop it!
Stop!
You, Doctor, are afraid.
Your medicine is violence.
Scared to death of the little
death to which you die to me.
All this from some
needle jockey,
who finally found
her pussy.
Well...
Oh, with 10 divorces
you give me this sermon?
Well, it's all the same,
isn't it?
Every one of you,
"Pay my bills.
"Pay my bills until
I betray you."
You always did weave
yourself an angry sky.
Turned your progeny
against you, poison.
I pay my own bills,
and Adam's, too.
With these, and these.
I'm a broken heart locked
up inside this rib cage.
Keep it up.
Fighting my own body.
I can't see me
in the mirror.
Whole department envying
my closeness with you.
Keep me from knowing?
Protect me?
Deceptive me?
Cunning me?
Snake-like me?
Conclusions, Ms. Lili.
Conclusions.
There is no conclusion.
That's my conclusion.
No right answer.
No ending.
We're in the beginning.
Cop out.
That's weak.
You would learn from
the gray zone, Doc.
Not everything's
black and white.
It's all gray.
And beyond the gray,
it's a rainbow.
I like how you said it.
Titties and rainbows.
Oh, titties and rainbows.
Evidence, Eve.
Each of us gender free
multi-sexuals.
Each of us re-defining gender
with each and every choice.
Titties and rainbows.
The Nazi Party
and their ass clones
with their war on women.
Their Hitler created order.
Order of the pink triangles.
The yellow triangles.
And the black triangles.
Those were for the witches.
The women who dared
to use contraception.
Non-breeders.
They called them work-shy.
They wanted them working,
their women.
And the women who dared
to love other women,
and the sex workers,
who dared to love anybody.
Women with choice.
Maybe they kept their
strippers in a birdcage, too.
Don't you see?
It has to be re-written.
If the individual dies,
with no choice,
then everything dies.
Including you.
I don't want you to die!
I don't want you to die.
Bubblegum!
Equation.
Polymorphous dimensions
swallowing their own tails.
Spiraling
into ever multiplying...
Ridiculous.
...infinity.
Evidence.
A third gender.
In fact,
over six billion.
Crawling, cruising,
choosing each other.
Choosing themselves.
I'm just about to
end this conference.
No, you're not.
And why not?
Because you need me.
Even if I don't
have his baby.
It's delusional.
You really do
need the drugs.
Oh!
You hear it?
You hear it?
As many positions
and preferences,
flowers in every field
swaying under ever ocean,
clinging onto every rock,
swinging from every one
of Darwin's trees,
plucking out of every garden, and every
crack, every sidewalk, every thought,
in every mind.
Straight up dog shit.
No ice.
You could not be more
out on a limb, Eve.
You're in a dark place.
Maybe the dark ages aren't
over yet, Doc.
But it's too late
to flip the switch.
I know.
You know what?
I know.
You're bluffing.
Mitochondrial Eve.
Asia, Africa, Europe.
The one mother.
I saw her.
Well, her DNA.
Under a microscope.
The mother of all mothers.
You're a liar.
I knew that you, too,
would lie.
She's beautiful.
A beautiful mess.
All right, I'm hanging up.
- No, you're not.
- Watch me.
You want my evidence.
You need my evidence.
You're simply dying
to live again.
Oh, Eve.
You're killing me.
You wanna know what I know,
so you can be free, too.
Again, I warned you.
Oh, what size do you
want your crucifix?
Don't need one.
You've already assassinated
my charter.
But she's making a comeback.
Oh, yeah.
You hate me.
I warned you.
Like you warned Lila?
Lilith? Lilith?
What makes you...
You saw her?
She calls herself Lila.
She could have gone
to college, too.
But she was older.
Not a breeder, right?
That girl is psychotic.
She is abusive,
she is crazy.
That witch
should be locked up.
Locked up!
Or burned at the stake,
all because she wanted
to be on top?
And we all know,
only you get to be on top.
That bitch.
Petty as a coin toss,
but your bigotry is noted.
I've played My Fair Lady
to your Higgins,
because I don't need
to be on top.
Never!
She was disruptive.
Wild, butch. Doc,
I just wanted to learn.
Don't...
And I loved you
so much.
So ashamed.
You threw me out
like rotten fruit.
I never wanted Adam.
What I wanted was you.
You called me
your cat-bird.
And I never looked back.
I gave him to you.
You gave me to him
for breeding!
It wasn't right for me
to keep you.
What's right?
I'm old, damn it!
I'm just a mutation.
I could define birth
as a rejection
by the egg's immune system
to the invasion of sperm.
I'm too old for you, Eve.
If you were my age
I'd be too old for you.
Yes, it might be some kind
of Pygmalion Complex.
But I tell you,
I cried like a baby
when I gave you to him.
When I gave him to you.
You were more than anybody
else in that department.
I wanted it for you.
I wanted PhD for you.
So you could just show 'em.
Did you make a bet
with the sheep?
The committee?
That you could take
a teenage needle fairy
and turn her into PhD?
Stop.
You gave me to him.
I gave him to you,
because he was young.
You never gave me
to myself.
I never prevented you.
You're everywhere.
It's always arranged.
Nobody tells...
Nobody tells the girls
if we catch that bouquet
that might be the last choice
we ever get to make.
There are better men
than Adam, Eve.
Worse if he's a better man.
You can't even
blame the bum.
Anyway, it's not his fault.
It's the sheep.
You hear it, Doc?
You hear it?
After Adam,
I couldn't even see
myself in the mirror.
That doesn't
have to be true.
Oh, but it is.
You had your work.
Play.
Play makes free.
Play!
I can't understand you.
Honey...
I'm worried about you.
Doc, please.
I want to play.
Put me back in the game.
I don't know what to say.
More than one employer asking
me, why do I need a job?
Why do I need a job
when I got Adam?
That was your responsibility.
You know it's hard
on a woman.
Pigeons for scraps,
my friend.
I hear the gossip.
I'm slut walking.
Well, I did the work.
What did he do,
except grow some penis?
It's like some archaic,
like...
Like I'm some...
Like I'm some
snake in the grass.
Like...
I'm Delilah.
I'm Jezebel.
I'm Mary Magdalene.
I...
I'm cunning.
I'm Mother Nature, right?
Oh, my God!
I'm the snake!
You're right.
Well, most of the time,
yeah.
I'm taboo.
Cunning.
Resourceful.
Creative.
Therefore, dangerous.
Dangerous again.
Prove it.
It's in the fabric.
In the stitches.
Oh, yeah.
You hate me.
But like I told you,
I'm not scared of sex.
I'm scared of you.
Even now, you can taste it
on the air.
Something like nothing.
Like bourbon and flowers.
Even now.
Even now, you wanna
see with my skin,
feel with my eyes.
My questions,
my dreams,
my hands,
my garden.
I can help.
I can help you.
Even God.
You help me?
With my body.
My thesis.
The nights I spent
longing for the touch of
your hand.
Knowing I sacrificed
you to him.
You were right.
He's a worthless tool,
and I am sorry.
You're apologizing?
So?
She was good, huh?
And you're a dirty
old man, too?
Aren't we all, according to you?
Oh, you're changing
so fast.
If Aphrodite really
was a virgin every morning,
she must be exhausted.
Blooming overnight.
So what do you, um...
What do you like now?
Like Aphrodite with graffiti.
What was she like?
See?
You really do need me.
You know the tiny...
the petal, the...
The last little bit
underneath a flower.
When it finally...
Like...
Finding my virginity.
Like...
Kissing some
ancient grief
my grandmother must have
passed down or something.
Like kissing myself.
Like...
swimming, or...
making sense.
It was like making sense.
Like nothing.
Like something.
Hell, God,
it was making love.
Sense?
There's no sense in sex.
Well, I learned a lot.
Oh, God! Only you
could conduct research
during your own
sexual escapades.
Escapades?
I have escapades?
I like that.
You know, I never saw you
confused about your own sexuality.
I never got kicked out
of that garden.
I walked out.
Goddesses are
an endangered species.
No, it doesn't convince me.
Having been already
in your garden,
and might I say, my dear,
there's nothing wrong there.
Look, I'm saving
the fruit in here.
But it's like the Middle East out
there, and I'm the middle.
What are you gonna use
for visual aids?
Visual aids?
Listen to me this time.
Required visual aids
for your oral exam.
I know.
So, creation story
number one
had us in one body.
Remember the cell?
Like, it's what?
Two photons,
quantum tango.
Inexplicably drawn
toward each other.
Night and day.
Ineluctably drawn back
toward the original twin.
The original
Original Sin.
Ah.
So, did you two, uh...
You consummated it.
You got the girl.
I mean...
Girl gets girl, huh?
I did.
I got the girl.
She would never do Adam.
- So he...
- So...
So...
So...
If three people
got married...
If three people
got married,
hypothetically,
like a triangle,
how is that any less fair to
the state than one percent
marrying into one
bloated bank balance?
And to answer your question,
sorry to break it
to you, dude,
but we really don't like
you dogs watching.
And evidence shows
most females are liquid.
Fluid, and therefore
to some degree bisexual.
But here's the key, Doc.
We really need
our goddesses back.
Our movies are
the evidence, Doc.
They dream of us.
Dick flicks, Doc.
It's a Dog Day Afternoon
when Al Pacino
surrenders in white linen
with his left wrist,
while Serpico waves
the gun with his right.
Gone with the Wind.
Rhett Butler thrashes Scarlett
just when that chick
is in her prime.
She's 21st century.
None of those clowns can
handle that kind of heat.
Pulling up radishes
for roses.
Bet you something that Scarlett O'Hara swings
right up there on that bisexual fence.
You knew the lid was blown off
this crazy gumbo New Orleans style.
Right on up the river
to the City of the Angels,
and equally abused.
Oil, it's just
energy from death.
Water, life.
Waterways of the world, baby,
they wear lingerie.
Who wears lingerie?
Waterways of the
world wear lingerie,
not boxers.
Canals and inlets,
streams and ponds and pools.
Not skyscrapers.
Girls play with girl dolls.
You call it soft science.
Out tired, our hungry,
our unemployed
washing up our shores.
We treat 'em like backwash.
Hard science.
Conclusions, Ms. Lili.
Evidence, Eve.
Hollywood classic.
His Girl Friday.
Cary Grant knows
Ros Russell's no wife.
She's a newspaperman.
So, he gets the girl,
because he gets the girl.
Bisexuals, trisexuals,
pansexuals, demisexuals,
girls gone wild.
But in the movies,
we look like fucked up druggies
who will die for our sins.
Well, if the needle fits...
Fast forward a few time
warps, and what have we got?
Lord goddess Melissa,
fearless as a mother.
New galaxy, The L Word.
New solar system.
Our Lady of Madonna kissing Britney
all the way up the Lady Gaga.
Etcetera, baby.
Nobody wants to get left out now.
You know,
I don't blame you girls.
I mean, the love of
a good, sane woman...
You dogs kept it
all to yourselves.
Killing off our goddesses.
So you, uh...
What? What?
But the truth is, no.
I would not watch.
I could not watch.
The truth is...
I never got over you,
my little bird.
I never let you go.
I just thought what
other people would say.
Chapter five.
Heterosexual women do spend more time
worrying about what others think.
Fact, are more worried
about their looks.
Fact, do mentally cut
themselves and each other,
into pieces.
Fact, do compete to win what?
Stepford men, who do what?
Dismantle then trade in
their rusty lady parts.
Not
a controlled experiment.
Twins in the womb.
Fraternal dizygotic,
bi-ovular male, female.
Females are willing to allow
the males to birth first.
But, according to
the folklore,
should the combination
be sororal,
females will fight to the death
to get born first.
Well, the joke's on whoever has
to lie about their age first.
It doesn't prove, Eve.
Well...
Did you follow the orientation
into later life?
Interesting and no.
Ah! Because, Doc,
the egg is the seed,
is the egg.
Because, Doc,
spontaneous ecstasy in women
was burned at the stake.
But now...
it's up and over the rainbow.
It's all brand-new.
No, there's nothing new
under the sun.
And you don't throw it
all away to move forward.
Um...
Dude...
Maybe you do.
I mean,
if you wanna keep dancing,
it's your move or mine.
What are you,
Miss Mad Scientista of the Month?
A nude calendar for
lady scientists.
I'd buy it.
I'd be in it.
You just go on
and on and on.
Ms, Lili, I can't decide whether
you need a classroom or a barroom.
I mean, it seems to me
I'm either no longer interested
or capable of listening
to all of the...
So much...
I do prove
body image fragmentation
with cutting behaviors
in teenage girls.
Since I got married,
I've been...
I've been doing it again.
Oh, gross!
It's the split.
That's the part that craves
independence like oxygen.
Wants to please ourselves,
love ourselves.
No...
It's in the wanting.
Yes, not the surviving,
the thriving.
But the identity,
it gets flooded with images,
commands to please
others first.
So, we cut.
It's not bad.
You have the data, I presume.
- Mm-hmm.
- And the body of the text?
Still love you, Doc.
Always love you.
I love you too, Eve.
LOL. I know you saved me
before you sacrificed me.
So, no harm, no foul.
We're all good.
LOL?
You talk like a text.
I mean it.
You really are something, huh?
You really are.
So, uh, where did you
run into her?
Well...
Just past the drum circle.
I tripped right over her.
Doc, we danced.
You danced?
Doc, the rhythms.
I didn't play them.
They played me.
Okay.
She waited for me
on the street.
Remember?
Like Iphigenia, I remember.
To go back and get her.
I remember.
Like my twin or something.
Soulmates.
Ah...
I guess she was never
really alone.
And so you breathed
new life into her then?
New life into me, Doc.
Hmm. Yeah.
I've lost you.
It's done.
Well...
Now back to this ridiculous
choice you're making, Eve.
I plead with you,
please do not throw away
the opportunity
to complete your degree.
Guess what all female driven
stories have in common.
Come on, guess.
Well, the cat's out of the bag.
It's pretty much girl-on-girl.
No.
That's girl's having
each other's backs,
and if you want the rest of our
bodies, you can have that, too.
Fail.
Enlighten me.
Exhibit A.
Self discovery.
Profound revelation.
What does that mean?
B, ESP.
Actual community of lovers
who maintain community
even after couples split.
And C, what is the glue that holds
together this giant girl cookie?
Come on. What is it? Come on.
Why is that
so interesting?
The girl's got choice.
All female driven stories.
All non-conventional
female stories,
girl's got a choice.
Is that so interesting?
Sold, like one who's got
all the choices.
Yes, I find it
very interesting.
Commerce, Ms. Eve.
It's commerce.
And girl-on-girl action?
MTV crowd?
Men love it.
Women? Women are
curious now,
so the ratings
collect rainwater.
I'll tell you what. You give it a couple
of years, and it's just another yawn.
No.
No. I'm saying we study it.
Like we're in a desert,
and this is our oasis.
Or mirage.
No, the second great flood.
Dolphin females play with each
other, tempering jealousy.
Smart, right?
Humans kill our own daughters,
and then look to one man
to fulfill all our needs.
I'm saying,
water the waters
of the women of the world.
Can you see it, Doc?
Oh, yeah. From my back porch.
Look, maybe you're
part-priestess,
maybe you're a baby goddess,
but you are no scientist.
Maybe you don't need a PhD.
I need the fair sex
out of every closet.
Not coming out stories,
coming in from the cold.
Fair sex economies,
ecologies,
the fair sex state.
So now you're saying we're all
cross dressers at heart, huh?
Just recognize you
in female form.
And your plan?
Rockstar from Venus, baby.
They see me blond, white,
educated, married.
I'm a fucking petri dish
for this rebel girl cocktail.
Equation.
21st century girls
equals 21st century sex,
equals 21st century science,
equals survival, baby.
Won't you set aside your
worn out old manuscript?
My life's work for you?
Go on, have a cupcake.
Do it for you.
Shot Garcia Lorca up the ass
because he loved men.
- Why?
- Fear.
Tied that shepherd child
to a fence.
Cried himself into
a permanent sleep.
Sheep crucifying the shepherd.
Why?
It's the vicious ones
I could never figure out.
Vicious ones
wanna be loved.
Their vocabulary?
It's got no girl in it.
You push and you push
and you push.
Maybe... Maybe you do
wear the pants.
And I want you to
accept her in the program.
Lilith? No. No way, no.
No shape or form.
You do not let that
viper get near me.
You do not let that viper
sidle up to me.
The closer I am to Lila,
the closer I'll be to you.
She is smart.
She is tenacious.
She will rattle the rafters
till cobwebs fall away
forever.
Well, I like cobwebs.
You treated her
like a weed.
That's a powerful flower.
God, this is ridiculous.
Look,
every thesis must,
by definition,
have a conclusion.
Not if I'm using
my own dictionary.
What? All this
and you have time to
redecorate Webster?
Question.
Why can't my thesis
just ask questions?
Question. Misogyny,
the ultimate WMD.
You are one percent
of the one percent.
The most supreme court.
Where's the female
version of you?
You're overreaching, Eve.
And don't you dare
embarrass me.
Question.
If women get equal pay,
would we marry more women?
Would we hire each other?
Would we open the door for each
other, like gentlemen?
So you're not gonna
go militant on me?
More like
a tango up Pico Boulevard.
Ah! What to do with you?
Do you love her?
I want her.
Show me your face.
Come one, come on,
swivel that thing.
- No.
- Why not?
My vineyard is
for my very own.
Song of Solomon.
Look it up.
Well, show me
something else.
It belongs to her
for now.
Belongs? I thought you were
supposed to be against ownerships?
Not if I give it.
And what do I get?
You get my Me-hD.
My anti-thesis.
So you've done
all the yakking,
and I still haven't heard
your conclusion.
Isn't that shocking, huh?
Well, come on,
let's hear it.
Okay.
Yes, I'm ready.
Not merely a third gender,
but a fourth and fifth.
Ad infinitum,
we are all liminals.
Poetry?
Back to creation
story number one.
Each born male
and female
floating in the amniotic fluid
of our same sex desires.
Lunch with the girls,
the intimacy of shopping.
Intimacies of football, too.
Title nine,
"Crash course in teamwork."
Nothing sexier than a group of
women playing on the same team.
Now, our mothers,
they held back.
Denial and desire.
In playing into the stereotype
of the shrew.
Yeah, the shrew wife,
mommy dearest.
So?
So? So?
Explore women
who explore women.
Fast.
So we don't blow this
fucking ball to bits
over a little slithering,
or lingerie.
And men?
That's...
Guys are wired
up in here
not to hear what
a woman says.
Get 'em unwired.
Give way to the wildness
in women.
It's the wilderness
in yourself.
I see. And until you
make it a utopia.
I wanna play.
Well, Adam's gonna
be crushed.
Angry.
I'll be his wife.
But I want one, too.
In fact, what I want
is a wife for every wife.
And what do you have
planned for me, missy?
Then God said, "I will grant
you every seed bearing fruit."
I'm intrigued.
Support my thesis,
my body.
Be the feminist
you always wished you could be.
And make up with Lila.
Oh, that's out of the question.
You're the feminist.
No.
I'm a free married woman
with a wife.
When you locked her out,
you locked me in.
So, back up your PhD,
when you directly
refute my theories.
My dear,
my book comes out in one week.
I would be laughed
off the page.
You can change your book.
You have a choice.
You're crazy.
You try giving birth
to yourself.
Look, utopia is one thing,
but, the female
with multi-verse desires
written all over her body,
not for others,
but for herself,
what this...
That female is...
That female is only absent
from our dreams, our movies,
and our books.
That female may not yet
be rated,
but she exists.
Marriage is irrevocable.
Like prison without parole?
It doesn't have to be.
Every time the waiter
refuses to address me,
every time my name doesn't
appear on the invitation,
or the credit I deserve...
Now, how many times
did that really happen?
Or the paycheck?
Rosa Parks, Daisy Bates...
Took it all off
for civil rights.
Not one of them invited to the
White House for the real meal.
Valerie Plame and Pussy Riot.
I rest my goddamn case.
Freud diagnosed bisexual
female as hysteric.
But in the end,
he couldn't figure out
what any woman wanted.
Amen, brother.
You can change your book.
A lifetime reputation,
and you want me
to throw it away
and give it away
for what again?
Doc, I need this.
Had I the tongue of Orpheus to
sing so the rocks might move.
Had I the words to win the hearts of
all, I would have used them.
Iphigenia.
I have only tears.
See how I have brought them.
I am your supplicant now.
Kill me not,
for it is sweet to
look upon the light.
Iphigenia, you ignorant slut.
Oh, but, Agamemnon,
I did please you so.
I am still your morning
and your evening star.
Are you in love with her?
I don't wanna declare
a major.
Love equals love.
It's corny,
but it's my one conclusion.
There are cities to run,
there are countries.
Bomb, bankrupt,
embargo?
So angry.
Why aren't you angrier?
It's a matter of state.
The state of marriage
could use a rest.
Send it to a day spa
for a makeover and a good
old-fashioned happy ending.
Trade in heavenly
for ecstasy.
Chapter 10.
When the state is nomadic,
matriarchs and goddesses
are equal.
The state wants a goddess.
Deserves a goddess.
But the goddess,
she wants another goddess.
Competing with a clutch team
of hungry goddesses?
Boys will be boys.
You sure this isn't
penis envy?
It's not about winning.
We wanna play.
You wanna play
with each other.
You play with each other
all the time.
Look who's talking
penis envy.
But we want you.
We want us, too.
Marilyn died because she
wanted herself more than a man.
She was a tweener, too.
Tweener?
Misfit.
Tweener.
Suspended on a thread,
between life and...
Life?
Yeah.
I beg you once again,
visual aids, Ms. Lili.
It's covered.
And what are you bringing?
Doc, I'm bringing it.
You're bringing it?
Oh, yeah.
You're bringing what?
Do not yell, okay?
Hello. Hangover.
So you did drink last night.
You know, I knew it.
This hangover is more like
a state of mind.
Okay, do not yell.
I can't do that, Eve.
Well, you'll just have to
find out later, then.
Oh, you pushy arrogant...
Beautiful princess bride,
goddess...
I won't yell at you.
Has anybody ever done
a full-blown professional
grade striptease
while appearing for
the oral?
Oh, my...
You're not gonna be satisfied
until I'm completely erased.
You chose me, Doc.
Remember?
Mastery in the bullfight.
Quick, clean,
close to the horns.
Come on, what gender
is a cat-bird
if stripping isn't
gender studies?
I know some transvestites who could
teach a hell of a semester for you.
Doc, tease paid the rent
on this birdcage.
It's my best visual aid.
You see it, too, right?
The semantic thread,
the body will be the book.
The book is the body upon
which it's written, right?
Question.
How would I strip differently
for the female gaze?
I have no idea.
How do we strip for women?
Deconstruct the entire semantic
text of striptease for men.
It's in the body of
the text of the body itself.
Even the Hollywood boys
are doing it now.
But are they doing it
for the girls?
Or are they doing it
for the boys?
Aw, you know I'm making a
valid socioeconomic point here
with my brain as sex object.
Go on, have a cookie.
PhD Committee deserves a
little visual aid with my oral.
Ah!
You gotta listen to
every question carefully.
Uh-huh.
Never address the examiners
by their first name.
Like an inquisition.
Begin every answer by
rephrasing the question.
Okay.
And always, always
answer the question.
Yup.
Resolve the trouble spots.
Reacquaint yourself
with the fundamentals.
I don't pause
at conclusions.
No, good, good.
Defend it.
Got it.
Well, okay.
That was pretty good today, huh?
It's too long, gotta cut
everything in half,
but pretty good.
Now, remember.
You're the expert here, not them.
No matter what they
throw at you,
and they're gonna be firing
at you worse than me.
Okay.
You gotta
defend your materials.
You gotta know
your experiments,
your protocols,
your results,
your conclusions.
I know. I know, I know.
But you gotta
defend your choice
of non-conclusion
to the teeth.
My choice?
Your choice.
Your choice, Lili.
And you know, uh,
take it all off if you have to.
But, Lili,
I don't think you
should have to.
I wanna play.
Lili?
Yeah.
Fly, bird.
Really?
Fly.
Fly.
You fly.
Yes!
No.
Yes.
Yes.
Goddammit!
No, no, no, no, no!
Damn it!
Hello?
Where did
all this come from?
I'm addressing you,
young lady.
What the hell
are you up to?
Swivel.
- Swivel?
- No.
Swivel that thing
back in the picture.
No.
- Picture!
- No.
- "No"?
- Yeah. No.
Okay, I'll get there.
I got it.
Let's see. You...
You wanna start over? Ha!
You wanna go
back to the beginning?
Which one?
Games, games, games.
I bust my ass
getting ready for today,
and you wanna
play games?
That's right.
Happy birthday to me.
Oh, you wanna play?
Today you wanna play?
I don't know.
I feel like, um...
I feel like water.
Two hours, missy.
Two hours.
And you're gonna have
your PhD candy.
I could have chose
someone else.
But I chose you.
And today is the day...
And you wanna play.
You wanna play games.
Your clock's
got no arms.
Anyway, it's gonna be
sunshowers today.
Give it up.
It's that kind of day.
And today is the day
you wanna play a game?
I dare you.
Dare me.
I think I just did.
- Okay, but...
- What?
You know the consequences.
I know the consequences.
Okay.
Let's go.
Stage one.
Let's go.
You got a cause,
lady rebel?
Don't need a cause.
But I got cause.
Mister, you're gonna see
some tasty action walking.
You think you're
my equal already.
You gotta earn it.
We gotta talk.
I'm late.
This door is swollen again.
God, you make
my teeth hurt.
You make
my teeth hurt.
You said we weren't
gonna get personal.
Personal as it gets, buddy.
Is this about, uh...
when you were 16?
I mean, how the hell was I
supposed to know you were 16.
Nobody reads for
a PhD at 16.
I've never been 16.
This is about, where did I
put my fucking keys?
So? You know everything.
Where did I put my fucking keys?
Act like God.
Why don't you act like God?
Is this about Adam?
Adam who can't find his own
face with a mirror? That Adam?
No, that would be
for you, my dear.
Narcissist princess.
We don't play like that now.
New rules.
Yeah, you don't
have any rules.
Rules rule.
Listen, I want out.
Out this cat-birdcage.
I thought you loved Adam?
You don't love him.
I do love him enough
to get us free.
Look, I wanna fly.
Like when you found me.
Free.
You're a better lay,
by the way.
Too much information.
Ah! Don't you get it?
I came here for
peace and quiet, not this.
And the one reason,
the one reason I agreed
to be your adviser,
you were the best in the department.
Now, what happened
last night?
You're making a fool
out of me.
No, I'll make you
a better man, God.
Arrogance.
Yeah, it's called swagger.
I got me some swagger
last night.
Yeah, it's called swagger.
I mean...
Swagger. I got me
some swagger last night.
That's what happened.
Right.
Eve. Lili? Ha!
I don't wanna retire
with this on my hands.
I had a good career.
Respectable.
Why?
What have I done
to deserve this from you?
You saw me coming.
My thesis had legs.
Boots. Not fuzzy slippers.
What happened?
What happened? What happened?
What happened? You!
Ow! Ow!
Every corner of that bitch ass
prison mind-fuck university of yours.
You shrunk my head.
I see.
I see you're diving in
dumpsters again for new words.
Well, listen here.
Off the wall,
hysterias for some punk
trash, needle-happy hooker's
not how I'm gonna spend my day.
Okay, honey?
Once a tramp,
always a tramp.
Jesus! God damn it!
How could you?
How could you?
You promised.
You promised.
You promised.
- I'm sorry.
- You promised.
You promised.
You promised.
You have no idea
how I am.
Eve. Lili. I'm...
Shame. Shame.
That's your favorite weapon.
But you explain to me
what happened last night.
I mean, here you were doing
a victory dance.
You were ready, girl.
You got it.
Get through today's
oral exam,
and you were in the club.
You locked me in again.
I'm an asshole.
You know I'm just some runaway
imagination with a scholarship.
But I'm doing the work.
I could have wrapped this PhD
in six months.
Now I'm agoraphobia
out there,
I'm claustrophobia there.
So happy birthday to me,
I'm right back where I started
before you showed up.
Ow!
What is it you exactly know?
This piece breaks new ground
for gender studies.
Fuck that.
We're people.
Human beings.
We are not our genders,
Dr. Goddard.
But we die for them.
Uganda, Russia, Balkans,
the Middle East, India.
For Christ sakes,
Corpus Christi, Texas,
that girl, she was shot
for kissing a girl.
Killed for kissing.
You can't blame me
for everything, Eve.
I have a reputation,
a following,
a lifetime of
people to defend.
I'm doing
the defending today.
What exactly are you defending
on my time?
Well, my entire existence.
And well.
Yeah, well.
There you have it.
I don't wanna die
any more than you do.
Some Greek tragedy.
It's okay if I do.
My ideas do die
on your divine order.
Something along those lines.
Or fines.
Look, nobody wants to kill
you, for fuck's sake.
I don't matter.
I wanna play.
You are already.
What's the point of PhD
if I don't get to play?
No, no, no, no, no.
But your game,
it's rigged.
Oh, listen.
You hear that?
It's the rhythm.
It's the drum circle.
I keep hearing them.
Keep hearing them out there.
And where am I?
In here,
defending your existence.
Right. Right.
I'm not Adam,
so I don't owe you shit.
Would you have me,
right before my retirement,
after all these years,
throw everything away
because you,
in the arrogance of youth,
you wanna make a point?
A point?
So I am a pale replica.
Bleed 'em and breed 'em,
right?
Well, I bleed,
but I will not breed for you.
First, "pale replica"?
Impossible.
There can never be two of you.
Second,
are you on drugs?
Third, give me some.
I refuse to be domesticated,
and still,
you married me off to your spawn.
Marry you off?
Come on.
What the fuck, Doc?
Throw me some PhD before
I throw you some babies.
What the fuck, Doc?
Grandkids.
That'd be nice.
Don't expect any babysitting.
No.
Look, nitwit,
believe it or not, I, uh...
I really...
I'm the sacrifice, right?
Disposable, like a razor.
Like an extra in some movie.
Volcanoes and virgins,
burning women at the stake.
Witches. And you are
way out of line.
Women. The burning of
women at the stake.
Out of line?
This is my epiphany,
not yours.
I'm living on the corner
of panic and ecstasy here.
There is no line
I will not cross.
You know, it's not
uncommon to experience
fear and nervousness
right before an oral exam.
But who knew you'd
crack up like this, huh?
I mean, it's very likely we're
on the onset of schizophrenia.
Hilarious.
PhD in birds, chicks,
bitches, hysterics, and hoes.
You are the peacock
of the species.
Often photographed,
rarely seen.
Ooh! Feisty schizophrenia.
So much fun.
Two for the price of one.
More than two of me now.
And we have no desire
to behave.
All of this happening
last night?
What happened?
The rhythm, I guess.
And I was wild.
Who asked you for Adam?
The guy's a mess.
Gambling debts by day,
and every night another
back alley hedge fund.
Dude, I am stripping
for tuition here.
What were you thinking?
You knew I'd wake up
one night and...
And?
And?
I kissed a girl.
I kissed a girl.
I kissed a girl.
Okay? Okay? Okay?
And?
And...
And...
Crashed my fucking hard drive.
No big deal.
It's only natural.
It wasn't natural for me.
It was good.
Unnaturally good.
Supernaturally not Adam.
And as my findings
reflected,
not natural for
the global girl,
who is also asking
for not Adam.
Why?
My data was clear as day.
She never got the choice.
What happened?
You kept me in the dark.
So, happy birthday to me.
There will be no
Academy Award consideration
for your appearance before
the PhD Committee, Ms. Lili.
The data. The data was
all everywhere.
Road rage,
sexual experimentation.
Shameless swagger.
We never had the choice to tell
everybody to fuck off before.
You guys are right.
It is good to be king.
So that's it?
That's...
That's all, huh?
God!
Hey, Big Bad. You remember how you
lost your virginity? Well, I don't.
It was shameful.
Shameful?
Honey, I cooked for you
afterwards.
- Oh, honey...
- You did what you did.
Don't you see?
It could have been mine.
Puberty, that's just for
teenage boys, right?
They will be boys.
It's biological.
Biology? Yes, biology.
Finally, the global girl has
evolved into a teenage boy.
Now, take it easy.
You're starting to worry me.
Biology better grow a set,
or it's back to the dark ages, baby.
And whose biology
is it, anyway?
I maintain there are two and more
than two biologies at play here.
Well, overreaching,
bordering on imaginary.
Imaginary?
It is so on.
Yes
That's all.
God!
Filibuster with a scalpel,
Dr. Goddard.
Cold, hard clinical
laboratory evidence,
supported by mainstream
multimedia.
Reflecting the collective
consciousness
of a culture screaming
itself to sleep
from a marriage crib
on fire since the '60s.
What is it now?
50% plus divorce rate?
40% first marriage.
60% second marriage.
73% third marriage.
And fourth, and fifth,
and, uh, tenth, sir.
Ah, well, that's only
for the gods.
And goddesses.
Oh, yes, the goddesses.
It's the most dangerous
thought you can think.
So you sweep it
under the carpet.
It seems to me you're the only
one near the carpet, sweetheart.
Look, you told me...
I told you I was correlating.
Correlating.
Mainstream media imagery
with the restlessness
in the marriage culture.
Correlating.
Solid avenues and goddamn
Champs Elysees boulevards.
Whoa, now look...
Evolutionary for over
six billion genders.
Look, it's PhD.
We are not curing cancer.
Why not?
What are you waiting for?
Grow more flowers.
Nine-million Jews, gypsies,
homosexuals, 20 million Russians.
Cambodia, Rwanda,
Uganda,
Mother Africa,
and cancer?
Really? Really?
The arrogance,
the arrogance of youth.
I wear my tattoos
on the inside.
Why do your doors
ever lock?
I'm talking about a different
kind of cancer here.
Again, no credibility,
no evidence.
Eve, evidence.
It's for the girls, Doc.
We may not stone 'em,
but we stone-cold ignore 'em.
Mothers killing daughters
killing sisters.
Happens to the boys, too.
If the boys are more in touch
with the essence,
the something,
the nothing.
The rhythm maybe.
I don't know, you know.
Well, that's...
That's very touching, Eve.
Very touching.
But we have business here.
You see, you are
the girl in question
who has an opportunity
to empower herself
with a goddamn PhD,
for which you have worked.
PhD? Then what?
Tricks on Wall Street?
Today.
This knowledge belongs
to every gender.
Viral, spiral litmus test for the
conditions of the waters of the world.
All right Eve, where are you
going with this?
I mean, I told you
over a year ago
that it's crucial
to maintain healthy habits
before the oral.
Now, we all deal
with our fears differently,
but, Eve, you are afraid.
Grown ass man climbing
up into my room.
The fluid female,
bisexual or try anything.
She's the answer
in you, Doc.
She was born from
danger and desire,
lives in sin on a street
with no regret.
Eve, I want you to
eat something.
78% of this planet
is wet.
Your astronauts know it.
Every time I went there...
Look, in my defense...
You know how much
I needed your approval.
The only think I would
have been defending today
is you.
I know that.
Gender studies are
not exact science.
Exactly!
That is exactly why
you need me.
My thinking.
The arrogance!
You're so arrogant. Look...
When every living being
on this planet
loves every other living being
without devouring it,
then it will be
an exact science.
What?
I was protecting you.
From what?
From knowing?
It's not all it's
cracked up to be, Eve.
Knowing? Knowing's not
all it's cracked up to be?
Forgive my arrogance,
but that is something
I do get to choose, don't I?
Doc?
Don't I?
Oh, God!
Do you...
Do you think I
put my office in a corner
because I was shy?
Oh, God!
I mean...
Hell no.
Oh, God!
Knowing? Knowing's not
all it's cracked up to be?
I pretty much
fuck anything.
Look, I have pretty much
fucked everything.
Protecting me?
From knowing?
Protecting me from knowing?
There's a time, missy...
There comes a time when
it starts to catch up
with you.
Look, do you really need
every man on earth
so see you as a sexual
and economic rival?
I mean, do you honestly?
Do you know what these motherfuckers
do to get up that ladder?
To see you, no doubt.
And your corner office.
No doubt.
So, Adam the bastard,
he gets to know?
I never told him
to be a sheep.
That is embarrassing.
In my image,
not sheep.
You told him to be a sheep.
- I did not.
- Did too.
Your turn.
Well, it's no big deal.
Apparently you don't need
a PhD.
Hell yeah, I'm getting a PhD.
I can't be surf dancing
my ass forever.
Now you're acting
like kindergarten.
With your titties,
and your bibetts, and your bows.
We all know
you're scared of sex.
I am not afraid of sex.
I'm afraid of you.
Now, who's "we"?
We the peeps.
I told you.
I'm beyond the birdcage now.
Oh, yeah.
More than I am.
I hear it all the time.
Up in your white ivory tower.
Up in here, up in here.
Dude, you should
totally be tweeting.
If I could get
half your followers...
I didn't know
you like rap.
It's amazing.
Something you didn't know.
You know, I have no idea
where I picked that up.
Hmm.
Dude, why would I leave
the sex out?
I mean, is it pleasure?
Is that why you're tripping?
No.
It's desire in girls, right?
All that writhing
and slithering.
Jesus...
Here's to the bis and tris.
They hold the key to the tree.
You kissed one girl.
Girls will be girls.
There's a reason we've gone wild.
Every homo sapiens
is a...
Homo homie.
What if we could end
the war games?
Of course.
All showering together.
All that Adonis blood
coursing through their veins.
Rockstars from Mars and their
legitimate rape fantasies.
Turns them on
when she's got no choice.
May it please the court,
what is a man's man,
but a man who wants
another man.
Love thy neighbor,
and polygamy is okay.
But a girl shall seek
no wife?
Why, Eve?
I don't know, Doc.
Burn down that log cabin,
blow the whistle on the
cultural industrial complex
built for the one percent.
Ceiling's too low.
I can't afford to stay locked in here,
and I can't afford to go out
there, not in that marketplace.
I'm warned you, Eve.
Eleventh hour
thesis revisions
based on pajama party,
girls gone wild, experiments into
bio-curiosity,
and evidence collected
from kissing a girl
for the first time.
I mean, maybe you liked it
because it was new.
Maybe you liked it
because there wasn't stubble.
Or maybe...
Maybe you're playing
for the other team,
you just want to have
the uniform.
Or you're playing for
both sides.
Yeah, like I won't
declare a major.
Therefore, you are
the most dangerous.
The most.
Most dangerous gender bending
weapon the state has ever known.
Quite possibly.
So better boardrooms,
better bedrooms is dangerous?
Okay.
I wanna be dangerous.
You've lost your marbles.
You keep pushing this
birth control abortion,
and we might do 90% of the
plant kingdom is bisexual.
Papaya in the morning.
Hibiscus in the afternoon.
Orchids, orchids.
All night long.
Where's the visual aids? The uh...
The charts, the graph?
So glad we're
finally having a talk.
What about the conclusion?
When you come down
the upside,
I don't really need
your PhD,
I just want it.
Why not?
- Why what?
- Why would you give that up?
- What up?
- Are you playing with me?
Yeah, Doc.
Why don't you play
with me anymore?
Why, Eve, huh?
To spite me? Is that it?
To make me wrong?
To embarrass me in front of the committee?
Is that it? Hmm?
My star pupil, my protegee.
Why?
For me.
- You?
- Me.
Hmm.
Did you know,
the word "lingerie" comes from lingere?
Which comes from licking,
which... You get the picture.
But we must get that
other word from cunning...
Cun... ning.
And we know what
a compliment that is.
You know I don't like
that kind of talk.
That's enough, Eve.
It's obvious you were
never breast fed.
Wow.
Neither was Adam.
Are you laughing at me?
This has gone far enough.
I'm only teasing you.
Evie, Evie...
What happened?
You were so intelligent,
so capable.
There comes a point,
too much intelligence
can backfire.
And then you just go...
You just go stupid.
Oh, there it is.
Now I'm stupid.
Yes, yes! Every syllable.
Every consonant, every vowel,
every phrase, everything.
Everything that comes out of
that syphilitic hole of yours.
You stupid, stupid,
stupid little girl.
What a waste of time,
to make a stupid
fucking point.
And why? Because boo-hoo,
Mommy don't want me, Daddy's abusive?
Yeah, so what?
So what, your daddy...
Your daddy was a bastard.
Well, so what?
I got a department to run.
And you, little girl,
you, I pay your bills.
You hear me?
You live off of me.
And then you come to me with
a chick flick topic
about housewives who
are bored and horny?
Get out of my life.
Get the fuck out of my life.
You're just like
every other whore.
Stop it!
Every one of them,
every other whore.
- Stop it! Stop it!
- Every one of them, every other whore.
- Every one of them, every other whore.
- Stop it!
- Stop it!
- Every one of them, every other whore.
Every one of them,
every other whore.
Stop it!
Stop!
You, Doctor, are afraid.
Your medicine is violence.
Scared to death of the little
death to which you die to me.
All this from some
needle jockey,
who finally found
her pussy.
Well...
Oh, with 10 divorces
you give me this sermon?
Well, it's all the same,
isn't it?
Every one of you,
"Pay my bills.
"Pay my bills until
I betray you."
You always did weave
yourself an angry sky.
Turned your progeny
against you, poison.
I pay my own bills,
and Adam's, too.
With these, and these.
I'm a broken heart locked
up inside this rib cage.
Keep it up.
Fighting my own body.
I can't see me
in the mirror.
Whole department envying
my closeness with you.
Keep me from knowing?
Protect me?
Deceptive me?
Cunning me?
Snake-like me?
Conclusions, Ms. Lili.
Conclusions.
There is no conclusion.
That's my conclusion.
No right answer.
No ending.
We're in the beginning.
Cop out.
That's weak.
You would learn from
the gray zone, Doc.
Not everything's
black and white.
It's all gray.
And beyond the gray,
it's a rainbow.
I like how you said it.
Titties and rainbows.
Oh, titties and rainbows.
Evidence, Eve.
Each of us gender free
multi-sexuals.
Each of us re-defining gender
with each and every choice.
Titties and rainbows.
The Nazi Party
and their ass clones
with their war on women.
Their Hitler created order.
Order of the pink triangles.
The yellow triangles.
And the black triangles.
Those were for the witches.
The women who dared
to use contraception.
Non-breeders.
They called them work-shy.
They wanted them working,
their women.
And the women who dared
to love other women,
and the sex workers,
who dared to love anybody.
Women with choice.
Maybe they kept their
strippers in a birdcage, too.
Don't you see?
It has to be re-written.
If the individual dies,
with no choice,
then everything dies.
Including you.
I don't want you to die!
I don't want you to die.
Bubblegum!
Equation.
Polymorphous dimensions
swallowing their own tails.
Spiraling
into ever multiplying...
Ridiculous.
...infinity.
Evidence.
A third gender.
In fact,
over six billion.
Crawling, cruising,
choosing each other.
Choosing themselves.
I'm just about to
end this conference.
No, you're not.
And why not?
Because you need me.
Even if I don't
have his baby.
It's delusional.
You really do
need the drugs.
Oh!
You hear it?
You hear it?
As many positions
and preferences,
flowers in every field
swaying under ever ocean,
clinging onto every rock,
swinging from every one
of Darwin's trees,
plucking out of every garden, and every
crack, every sidewalk, every thought,
in every mind.
Straight up dog shit.
No ice.
You could not be more
out on a limb, Eve.
You're in a dark place.
Maybe the dark ages aren't
over yet, Doc.
But it's too late
to flip the switch.
I know.
You know what?
I know.
You're bluffing.
Mitochondrial Eve.
Asia, Africa, Europe.
The one mother.
I saw her.
Well, her DNA.
Under a microscope.
The mother of all mothers.
You're a liar.
I knew that you, too,
would lie.
She's beautiful.
A beautiful mess.
All right, I'm hanging up.
- No, you're not.
- Watch me.
You want my evidence.
You need my evidence.
You're simply dying
to live again.
Oh, Eve.
You're killing me.
You wanna know what I know,
so you can be free, too.
Again, I warned you.
Oh, what size do you
want your crucifix?
Don't need one.
You've already assassinated
my charter.
But she's making a comeback.
Oh, yeah.
You hate me.
I warned you.
Like you warned Lila?
Lilith? Lilith?
What makes you...
You saw her?
She calls herself Lila.
She could have gone
to college, too.
But she was older.
Not a breeder, right?
That girl is psychotic.
She is abusive,
she is crazy.
That witch
should be locked up.
Locked up!
Or burned at the stake,
all because she wanted
to be on top?
And we all know,
only you get to be on top.
That bitch.
Petty as a coin toss,
but your bigotry is noted.
I've played My Fair Lady
to your Higgins,
because I don't need
to be on top.
Never!
She was disruptive.
Wild, butch. Doc,
I just wanted to learn.
Don't...
And I loved you
so much.
So ashamed.
You threw me out
like rotten fruit.
I never wanted Adam.
What I wanted was you.
You called me
your cat-bird.
And I never looked back.
I gave him to you.
You gave me to him
for breeding!
It wasn't right for me
to keep you.
What's right?
I'm old, damn it!
I'm just a mutation.
I could define birth
as a rejection
by the egg's immune system
to the invasion of sperm.
I'm too old for you, Eve.
If you were my age
I'd be too old for you.
Yes, it might be some kind
of Pygmalion Complex.
But I tell you,
I cried like a baby
when I gave you to him.
When I gave him to you.
You were more than anybody
else in that department.
I wanted it for you.
I wanted PhD for you.
So you could just show 'em.
Did you make a bet
with the sheep?
The committee?
That you could take
a teenage needle fairy
and turn her into PhD?
Stop.
You gave me to him.
I gave him to you,
because he was young.
You never gave me
to myself.
I never prevented you.
You're everywhere.
It's always arranged.
Nobody tells...
Nobody tells the girls
if we catch that bouquet
that might be the last choice
we ever get to make.
There are better men
than Adam, Eve.
Worse if he's a better man.
You can't even
blame the bum.
Anyway, it's not his fault.
It's the sheep.
You hear it, Doc?
You hear it?
After Adam,
I couldn't even see
myself in the mirror.
That doesn't
have to be true.
Oh, but it is.
You had your work.
Play.
Play makes free.
Play!
I can't understand you.
Honey...
I'm worried about you.
Doc, please.
I want to play.
Put me back in the game.
I don't know what to say.
More than one employer asking
me, why do I need a job?
Why do I need a job
when I got Adam?
That was your responsibility.
You know it's hard
on a woman.
Pigeons for scraps,
my friend.
I hear the gossip.
I'm slut walking.
Well, I did the work.
What did he do,
except grow some penis?
It's like some archaic,
like...
Like I'm some...
Like I'm some
snake in the grass.
Like...
I'm Delilah.
I'm Jezebel.
I'm Mary Magdalene.
I...
I'm cunning.
I'm Mother Nature, right?
Oh, my God!
I'm the snake!
You're right.
Well, most of the time,
yeah.
I'm taboo.
Cunning.
Resourceful.
Creative.
Therefore, dangerous.
Dangerous again.
Prove it.
It's in the fabric.
In the stitches.
Oh, yeah.
You hate me.
But like I told you,
I'm not scared of sex.
I'm scared of you.
Even now, you can taste it
on the air.
Something like nothing.
Like bourbon and flowers.
Even now.
Even now, you wanna
see with my skin,
feel with my eyes.
My questions,
my dreams,
my hands,
my garden.
I can help.
I can help you.
Even God.
You help me?
With my body.
My thesis.
The nights I spent
longing for the touch of
your hand.
Knowing I sacrificed
you to him.
You were right.
He's a worthless tool,
and I am sorry.
You're apologizing?
So?
She was good, huh?
And you're a dirty
old man, too?
Aren't we all, according to you?
Oh, you're changing
so fast.
If Aphrodite really
was a virgin every morning,
she must be exhausted.
Blooming overnight.
So what do you, um...
What do you like now?
Like Aphrodite with graffiti.
What was she like?
See?
You really do need me.
You know the tiny...
the petal, the...
The last little bit
underneath a flower.
When it finally...
Like...
Finding my virginity.
Like...
Kissing some
ancient grief
my grandmother must have
passed down or something.
Like kissing myself.
Like...
swimming, or...
making sense.
It was like making sense.
Like nothing.
Like something.
Hell, God,
it was making love.
Sense?
There's no sense in sex.
Well, I learned a lot.
Oh, God! Only you
could conduct research
during your own
sexual escapades.
Escapades?
I have escapades?
I like that.
You know, I never saw you
confused about your own sexuality.
I never got kicked out
of that garden.
I walked out.
Goddesses are
an endangered species.
No, it doesn't convince me.
Having been already
in your garden,
and might I say, my dear,
there's nothing wrong there.
Look, I'm saving
the fruit in here.
But it's like the Middle East out
there, and I'm the middle.
What are you gonna use
for visual aids?
Visual aids?
Listen to me this time.
Required visual aids
for your oral exam.
I know.
So, creation story
number one
had us in one body.
Remember the cell?
Like, it's what?
Two photons,
quantum tango.
Inexplicably drawn
toward each other.
Night and day.
Ineluctably drawn back
toward the original twin.
The original
Original Sin.
Ah.
So, did you two, uh...
You consummated it.
You got the girl.
I mean...
Girl gets girl, huh?
I did.
I got the girl.
She would never do Adam.
- So he...
- So...
So...
So...
If three people
got married...
If three people
got married,
hypothetically,
like a triangle,
how is that any less fair to
the state than one percent
marrying into one
bloated bank balance?
And to answer your question,
sorry to break it
to you, dude,
but we really don't like
you dogs watching.
And evidence shows
most females are liquid.
Fluid, and therefore
to some degree bisexual.
But here's the key, Doc.
We really need
our goddesses back.
Our movies are
the evidence, Doc.
They dream of us.
Dick flicks, Doc.
It's a Dog Day Afternoon
when Al Pacino
surrenders in white linen
with his left wrist,
while Serpico waves
the gun with his right.
Gone with the Wind.
Rhett Butler thrashes Scarlett
just when that chick
is in her prime.
She's 21st century.
None of those clowns can
handle that kind of heat.
Pulling up radishes
for roses.
Bet you something that Scarlett O'Hara swings
right up there on that bisexual fence.
You knew the lid was blown off
this crazy gumbo New Orleans style.
Right on up the river
to the City of the Angels,
and equally abused.
Oil, it's just
energy from death.
Water, life.
Waterways of the world, baby,
they wear lingerie.
Who wears lingerie?
Waterways of the
world wear lingerie,
not boxers.
Canals and inlets,
streams and ponds and pools.
Not skyscrapers.
Girls play with girl dolls.
You call it soft science.
Out tired, our hungry,
our unemployed
washing up our shores.
We treat 'em like backwash.
Hard science.
Conclusions, Ms. Lili.
Evidence, Eve.
Hollywood classic.
His Girl Friday.
Cary Grant knows
Ros Russell's no wife.
She's a newspaperman.
So, he gets the girl,
because he gets the girl.
Bisexuals, trisexuals,
pansexuals, demisexuals,
girls gone wild.
But in the movies,
we look like fucked up druggies
who will die for our sins.
Well, if the needle fits...
Fast forward a few time
warps, and what have we got?
Lord goddess Melissa,
fearless as a mother.
New galaxy, The L Word.
New solar system.
Our Lady of Madonna kissing Britney
all the way up the Lady Gaga.
Etcetera, baby.
Nobody wants to get left out now.
You know,
I don't blame you girls.
I mean, the love of
a good, sane woman...
You dogs kept it
all to yourselves.
Killing off our goddesses.
So you, uh...
What? What?
But the truth is, no.
I would not watch.
I could not watch.
The truth is...
I never got over you,
my little bird.
I never let you go.
I just thought what
other people would say.
Chapter five.
Heterosexual women do spend more time
worrying about what others think.
Fact, are more worried
about their looks.
Fact, do mentally cut
themselves and each other,
into pieces.
Fact, do compete to win what?
Stepford men, who do what?
Dismantle then trade in
their rusty lady parts.
Not
a controlled experiment.
Twins in the womb.
Fraternal dizygotic,
bi-ovular male, female.
Females are willing to allow
the males to birth first.
But, according to
the folklore,
should the combination
be sororal,
females will fight to the death
to get born first.
Well, the joke's on whoever has
to lie about their age first.
It doesn't prove, Eve.
Well...
Did you follow the orientation
into later life?
Interesting and no.
Ah! Because, Doc,
the egg is the seed,
is the egg.
Because, Doc,
spontaneous ecstasy in women
was burned at the stake.
But now...
it's up and over the rainbow.
It's all brand-new.
No, there's nothing new
under the sun.
And you don't throw it
all away to move forward.
Um...
Dude...
Maybe you do.
I mean,
if you wanna keep dancing,
it's your move or mine.
What are you,
Miss Mad Scientista of the Month?
A nude calendar for
lady scientists.
I'd buy it.
I'd be in it.
You just go on
and on and on.
Ms, Lili, I can't decide whether
you need a classroom or a barroom.
I mean, it seems to me
I'm either no longer interested
or capable of listening
to all of the...
So much...
I do prove
body image fragmentation
with cutting behaviors
in teenage girls.
Since I got married,
I've been...
I've been doing it again.
Oh, gross!
It's the split.
That's the part that craves
independence like oxygen.
Wants to please ourselves,
love ourselves.
No...
It's in the wanting.
Yes, not the surviving,
the thriving.
But the identity,
it gets flooded with images,
commands to please
others first.
So, we cut.
It's not bad.
You have the data, I presume.
- Mm-hmm.
- And the body of the text?
Still love you, Doc.
Always love you.
I love you too, Eve.
LOL. I know you saved me
before you sacrificed me.
So, no harm, no foul.
We're all good.
LOL?
You talk like a text.
I mean it.
You really are something, huh?
You really are.
So, uh, where did you
run into her?
Well...
Just past the drum circle.
I tripped right over her.
Doc, we danced.
You danced?
Doc, the rhythms.
I didn't play them.
They played me.
Okay.
She waited for me
on the street.
Remember?
Like Iphigenia, I remember.
To go back and get her.
I remember.
Like my twin or something.
Soulmates.
Ah...
I guess she was never
really alone.
And so you breathed
new life into her then?
New life into me, Doc.
Hmm. Yeah.
I've lost you.
It's done.
Well...
Now back to this ridiculous
choice you're making, Eve.
I plead with you,
please do not throw away
the opportunity
to complete your degree.
Guess what all female driven
stories have in common.
Come on, guess.
Well, the cat's out of the bag.
It's pretty much girl-on-girl.
No.
That's girl's having
each other's backs,
and if you want the rest of our
bodies, you can have that, too.
Fail.
Enlighten me.
Exhibit A.
Self discovery.
Profound revelation.
What does that mean?
B, ESP.
Actual community of lovers
who maintain community
even after couples split.
And C, what is the glue that holds
together this giant girl cookie?
Come on. What is it? Come on.
Why is that
so interesting?
The girl's got choice.
All female driven stories.
All non-conventional
female stories,
girl's got a choice.
Is that so interesting?
Sold, like one who's got
all the choices.
Yes, I find it
very interesting.
Commerce, Ms. Eve.
It's commerce.
And girl-on-girl action?
MTV crowd?
Men love it.
Women? Women are
curious now,
so the ratings
collect rainwater.
I'll tell you what. You give it a couple
of years, and it's just another yawn.
No.
No. I'm saying we study it.
Like we're in a desert,
and this is our oasis.
Or mirage.
No, the second great flood.
Dolphin females play with each
other, tempering jealousy.
Smart, right?
Humans kill our own daughters,
and then look to one man
to fulfill all our needs.
I'm saying,
water the waters
of the women of the world.
Can you see it, Doc?
Oh, yeah. From my back porch.
Look, maybe you're
part-priestess,
maybe you're a baby goddess,
but you are no scientist.
Maybe you don't need a PhD.
I need the fair sex
out of every closet.
Not coming out stories,
coming in from the cold.
Fair sex economies,
ecologies,
the fair sex state.
So now you're saying we're all
cross dressers at heart, huh?
Just recognize you
in female form.
And your plan?
Rockstar from Venus, baby.
They see me blond, white,
educated, married.
I'm a fucking petri dish
for this rebel girl cocktail.
Equation.
21st century girls
equals 21st century sex,
equals 21st century science,
equals survival, baby.
Won't you set aside your
worn out old manuscript?
My life's work for you?
Go on, have a cupcake.
Do it for you.
Shot Garcia Lorca up the ass
because he loved men.
- Why?
- Fear.
Tied that shepherd child
to a fence.
Cried himself into
a permanent sleep.
Sheep crucifying the shepherd.
Why?
It's the vicious ones
I could never figure out.
Vicious ones
wanna be loved.
Their vocabulary?
It's got no girl in it.
You push and you push
and you push.
Maybe... Maybe you do
wear the pants.
And I want you to
accept her in the program.
Lilith? No. No way, no.
No shape or form.
You do not let that
viper get near me.
You do not let that viper
sidle up to me.
The closer I am to Lila,
the closer I'll be to you.
She is smart.
She is tenacious.
She will rattle the rafters
till cobwebs fall away
forever.
Well, I like cobwebs.
You treated her
like a weed.
That's a powerful flower.
God, this is ridiculous.
Look,
every thesis must,
by definition,
have a conclusion.
Not if I'm using
my own dictionary.
What? All this
and you have time to
redecorate Webster?
Question.
Why can't my thesis
just ask questions?
Question. Misogyny,
the ultimate WMD.
You are one percent
of the one percent.
The most supreme court.
Where's the female
version of you?
You're overreaching, Eve.
And don't you dare
embarrass me.
Question.
If women get equal pay,
would we marry more women?
Would we hire each other?
Would we open the door for each
other, like gentlemen?
So you're not gonna
go militant on me?
More like
a tango up Pico Boulevard.
Ah! What to do with you?
Do you love her?
I want her.
Show me your face.
Come one, come on,
swivel that thing.
- No.
- Why not?
My vineyard is
for my very own.
Song of Solomon.
Look it up.
Well, show me
something else.
It belongs to her
for now.
Belongs? I thought you were
supposed to be against ownerships?
Not if I give it.
And what do I get?
You get my Me-hD.
My anti-thesis.
So you've done
all the yakking,
and I still haven't heard
your conclusion.
Isn't that shocking, huh?
Well, come on,
let's hear it.
Okay.
Yes, I'm ready.
Not merely a third gender,
but a fourth and fifth.
Ad infinitum,
we are all liminals.
Poetry?
Back to creation
story number one.
Each born male
and female
floating in the amniotic fluid
of our same sex desires.
Lunch with the girls,
the intimacy of shopping.
Intimacies of football, too.
Title nine,
"Crash course in teamwork."
Nothing sexier than a group of
women playing on the same team.
Now, our mothers,
they held back.
Denial and desire.
In playing into the stereotype
of the shrew.
Yeah, the shrew wife,
mommy dearest.
So?
So? So?
Explore women
who explore women.
Fast.
So we don't blow this
fucking ball to bits
over a little slithering,
or lingerie.
And men?
That's...
Guys are wired
up in here
not to hear what
a woman says.
Get 'em unwired.
Give way to the wildness
in women.
It's the wilderness
in yourself.
I see. And until you
make it a utopia.
I wanna play.
Well, Adam's gonna
be crushed.
Angry.
I'll be his wife.
But I want one, too.
In fact, what I want
is a wife for every wife.
And what do you have
planned for me, missy?
Then God said, "I will grant
you every seed bearing fruit."
I'm intrigued.
Support my thesis,
my body.
Be the feminist
you always wished you could be.
And make up with Lila.
Oh, that's out of the question.
You're the feminist.
No.
I'm a free married woman
with a wife.
When you locked her out,
you locked me in.
So, back up your PhD,
when you directly
refute my theories.
My dear,
my book comes out in one week.
I would be laughed
off the page.
You can change your book.
You have a choice.
You're crazy.
You try giving birth
to yourself.
Look, utopia is one thing,
but, the female
with multi-verse desires
written all over her body,
not for others,
but for herself,
what this...
That female is...
That female is only absent
from our dreams, our movies,
and our books.
That female may not yet
be rated,
but she exists.
Marriage is irrevocable.
Like prison without parole?
It doesn't have to be.
Every time the waiter
refuses to address me,
every time my name doesn't
appear on the invitation,
or the credit I deserve...
Now, how many times
did that really happen?
Or the paycheck?
Rosa Parks, Daisy Bates...
Took it all off
for civil rights.
Not one of them invited to the
White House for the real meal.
Valerie Plame and Pussy Riot.
I rest my goddamn case.
Freud diagnosed bisexual
female as hysteric.
But in the end,
he couldn't figure out
what any woman wanted.
Amen, brother.
You can change your book.
A lifetime reputation,
and you want me
to throw it away
and give it away
for what again?
Doc, I need this.
Had I the tongue of Orpheus to
sing so the rocks might move.
Had I the words to win the hearts of
all, I would have used them.
Iphigenia.
I have only tears.
See how I have brought them.
I am your supplicant now.
Kill me not,
for it is sweet to
look upon the light.
Iphigenia, you ignorant slut.
Oh, but, Agamemnon,
I did please you so.
I am still your morning
and your evening star.
Are you in love with her?
I don't wanna declare
a major.
Love equals love.
It's corny,
but it's my one conclusion.
There are cities to run,
there are countries.
Bomb, bankrupt,
embargo?
So angry.
Why aren't you angrier?
It's a matter of state.
The state of marriage
could use a rest.
Send it to a day spa
for a makeover and a good
old-fashioned happy ending.
Trade in heavenly
for ecstasy.
Chapter 10.
When the state is nomadic,
matriarchs and goddesses
are equal.
The state wants a goddess.
Deserves a goddess.
But the goddess,
she wants another goddess.
Competing with a clutch team
of hungry goddesses?
Boys will be boys.
You sure this isn't
penis envy?
It's not about winning.
We wanna play.
You wanna play
with each other.
You play with each other
all the time.
Look who's talking
penis envy.
But we want you.
We want us, too.
Marilyn died because she
wanted herself more than a man.
She was a tweener, too.
Tweener?
Misfit.
Tweener.
Suspended on a thread,
between life and...
Life?
Yeah.
I beg you once again,
visual aids, Ms. Lili.
It's covered.
And what are you bringing?
Doc, I'm bringing it.
You're bringing it?
Oh, yeah.
You're bringing what?
Do not yell, okay?
Hello. Hangover.
So you did drink last night.
You know, I knew it.
This hangover is more like
a state of mind.
Okay, do not yell.
I can't do that, Eve.
Well, you'll just have to
find out later, then.
Oh, you pushy arrogant...
Beautiful princess bride,
goddess...
I won't yell at you.
Has anybody ever done
a full-blown professional
grade striptease
while appearing for
the oral?
Oh, my...
You're not gonna be satisfied
until I'm completely erased.
You chose me, Doc.
Remember?
Mastery in the bullfight.
Quick, clean,
close to the horns.
Come on, what gender
is a cat-bird
if stripping isn't
gender studies?
I know some transvestites who could
teach a hell of a semester for you.
Doc, tease paid the rent
on this birdcage.
It's my best visual aid.
You see it, too, right?
The semantic thread,
the body will be the book.
The book is the body upon
which it's written, right?
Question.
How would I strip differently
for the female gaze?
I have no idea.
How do we strip for women?
Deconstruct the entire semantic
text of striptease for men.
It's in the body of
the text of the body itself.
Even the Hollywood boys
are doing it now.
But are they doing it
for the girls?
Or are they doing it
for the boys?
Aw, you know I'm making a
valid socioeconomic point here
with my brain as sex object.
Go on, have a cookie.
PhD Committee deserves a
little visual aid with my oral.
Ah!
You gotta listen to
every question carefully.
Uh-huh.
Never address the examiners
by their first name.
Like an inquisition.
Begin every answer by
rephrasing the question.
Okay.
And always, always
answer the question.
Yup.
Resolve the trouble spots.
Reacquaint yourself
with the fundamentals.
I don't pause
at conclusions.
No, good, good.
Defend it.
Got it.
Well, okay.
That was pretty good today, huh?
It's too long, gotta cut
everything in half,
but pretty good.
Now, remember.
You're the expert here, not them.
No matter what they
throw at you,
and they're gonna be firing
at you worse than me.
Okay.
You gotta
defend your materials.
You gotta know
your experiments,
your protocols,
your results,
your conclusions.
I know. I know, I know.
But you gotta
defend your choice
of non-conclusion
to the teeth.
My choice?
Your choice.
Your choice, Lili.
And you know, uh,
take it all off if you have to.
But, Lili,
I don't think you
should have to.
I wanna play.
Lili?
Yeah.
Fly, bird.
Really?
Fly.
Fly.
You fly.
Yes!