Railing Codex

……像绳子一样，戏剧性把人物扎在一起：你们都是稻草。A与B有关系，B与C有关系，C与A有关系。来完成一个稻草的循环。戏剧性也要求稻草反抗，A与B有矛盾，B与C有矛盾，C与A有矛盾。被扎紧的一切又在局部关系上断裂。也许这个叫张力。挤在一起的这堆东西随时要绽开。国王鞠躬，国王杀人。国王占据因杀掉国王而获得的王位。王冠与他的头顶之间，即断裂。表面上多么亲密无间。如果他是秃顶，那断裂的空间能小一些。怎么办，为此而痛悔？还是让鞠躬与杀人间的落差更大？——为此心安理得。国王继续杀，杀国王，杀一切饱含蛆虫的死狗。而哈姆雷特只能去拧王后的心脏，怪它硬得像石头。（哈姆雷特不如去拧干脆面。）哈姆雷特，去杀躲在幕后的奥菲利亚的蠢父亲，去杀为父报仇的奥菲利亚的哥哥。哈姆雷特，是否听过杨千嬅的歌？传递一个吻，处处吻。传递一把锋利的剑，传递下去。最深厚的内功就是最深厚的恨。杀了国王的国王把内功传给王后和哈姆雷特，哈姆雷特把这份内功传给奥菲利亚一家（整整齐齐）。命运是不公平的，我可以把不公平往后传递。王后的心碎了可以依旧斥责她，让她把裂开的心丢掉一半。戏剧性让哈姆雷特以为王后的心是属于他的物。让哈姆雷特复制一套虐待的关系，再给奥菲利亚。他们都是挤在一起的分崩离析，成一份彼此无话可谈的黑暗料理。如何让锅里的红豆与绿豆分开？可以只放两枚豆子，红豆、绿豆各一枚。事实上，哪怕更多的豆子，红豆与绿豆也不是混在一起的。靠近看，它们就是分离。（除非死后变成泥土，变成瓶塞，变成豆泥。）与王后进行势均力敌的SM大战之后，再找个无辜的路人奥菲利亚，你相当于一剑把她刺死。不对，是两剑，也许三剑——哈氏分段刺杀。不用想王后的感受，更不用想奥菲利亚的感受。自私是现代的通行证。

… Like a rope, theatricality ties characters together: you are all straw. A has something to do with B, B has something to do with C, C has something to do with A. Thus completing one cycle of straw. Theatricality demands that the straw rebel, too: A has beef with B, B has beef with C, C has beef with A. All that is firmly bound fractures at its peripheral connections. Maybe this is called tension. This clustered pile is perpetually on the brink of explosion. Der König verneigt sich und tötet. The king takes the throne by killing the king. The space between his crown and his scalp: a fracture. Outwardly, such unbroken intimacy. If he were bald, the space of fracture could be smaller. What now, feeling regret? Or should the gap between bowing and killing be widened? —Thereby feeling at peace. The king goes on to kill, killing kings, killing all the dead dogs stuffed with maggots. While Hamlet can only wrench the heart of the queen, make it twist, and blame it for being hard as a stone. (Hamlet might as well twist some crispy ramen instead.) Hamlet sets out to kill Ophelia’s foolish father hiding behind the curtains, and then kill Ophelia’s brother who seeks revenge for their father. Did Hamlet ever listen to Miriam Yeung? Pass on a kiss, kiss everywhere. Pass on a sharp sword, pass it on. The most sophisticated form of neigong is the deepest hatred. The king who killed the king passes on his neigong to the queen and Hamlet, who passes it on to Ophelia’s entire family (so neat). Fate is unfair, and I can pass this unfairness down the line. The queen’s heartbroken, but she can still be subject to blame: make her toss away half of her broken heart. Theatricality leads Hamlet to believe that the queen’s heart is an object in his possession. Make Hamlet duplicate an abusive relationship and hand it to Ophelia. They are a disintegrating mess held together by a tight squeeze, collapsing into a plateful of dark concoction with nothing left to say to each other. How do you separate the red beans from the mung beans in a pot? By placing only two beans in there—one red, one green. In fact, even with more beans, the red and green never truly mix. If you look closer, they are indeed apart. (Unless they turn into earth, into corks, into bean paste after death.) After an evenly matched, sadomasochist duel with the queen, seek out an innocent passerby by the name of Ophelia. You can essentially end her life with one fatal thrust. No, two. Maybe three—the Hamletian assassination, carried out in segments. There’s no need to consider the queen’s feelings, much less Ophelia’s. Selfishness is the password of modernity. 