Like anyone alive, Doctor Faktencheck is also dead. The beginning and the end are the two brackets we can probably all agree on, even if the temperatures and the murals of the rooms before and after are still up for discussion. When Doctor discovered, as a young man, that death grips as certainly and tenderly as living, he was as much dead waiting to be alive as alive waiting to be dead. Perception promises purpose, even if it can’t deliver on direction, and the new purpose was now to rewrite the end. The problem was the end was where he begun. The problem was it is difficult walking backwards. So pointlessness, so circles, so religion and other fictions. Doctor Faktencheck, like anyone alive, does not fail and succeed at being alive, but fails and succeeds at being dead.
The first show he ever saw was “GOOD PEOPLE GET DRUNK” a horror ill-billed as a romantic comedy. They were full of Propanolol getting agitated holding pint glasses ready to pour from their own ocean. But at the first sight of their child, the Doctor, they were sobered by his errors, the yellow lights made them look sick. Desparate for his eyes to change colour or his skin to liquify they reached out to touch him. Seeing all this, the Doctor closed his eyes and immediately rolled off his mother’s stomach onto the cold hospital floor. Refused a swing on the viney cord, citing technical difficulties.
P.1 of Dud Blood, a short play about life and death. Read more.
Currently concerned with the truth and whether you can really say it.
Work for Kibwe Tavares/Factory Fifteen (UEFA, FILM4), Laure Prouvost.
Commissions for Topman, Red Bull.
Performances for Universal Music, Radio One, Warp Records.
Fine Art at Goldsmiths, Central Saint Martins.
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© Darius Rodrigues 2017