Hey, that's no way to say you want me.

2004-01-03 - 5:57 p.m.

LEONARD COHEN ON THIS HOUR HAS SEVEN DAYS, MAY 1 1966

Text and Subtext

A Series of Observations

with humble apologies to Leonard Cohen, Beryl Fox, Patrick Watson, and the CBC

(First, check out the video clip here at the good ol' CBC archives.)

PATRICK WATSON: Leonard Cohen is a Canadian poet & novelist, and despite an air of frail vulnerability, (through clenched teeth) he's a very confident young man. [We're on to him. He thinks we don't understand what his magoo demeanour, turtleneck sweaters and ponderous remarks are really about. He's going to try to seduce Beryl. Damn him.]

(...)

BERYL FOX: He's a very mild man who writes brutal, startling poetry. (under breath) [Oh, to be his muse for a profane, irreligious but aesthetically redemptive poetic tirade about beauty and incomparable loss. I wonder if he notices that I'd look a little like Marianne Jensen if I could let my hair down like the pretty hippie girls do instead of having this bizarre hurricane-proof mid-60s hair.]

LEONARD COHEN: I thought I was a startling, brutal man who wrote very mild, lyrical poetry. (wry smile) [Dude, I think she likes me.]

(...)

BERYL FOXYMAMA: I'm always curious to know what happens to the inner feelings of a writer or a poet when he takes this cry of suffering within him and puts it down onto paper and sees it on a thousand stands and...

MACK-DADDY COHEN: Is this a straight question? Do you really want to know? (barely containing excitement) [Oh man, she so wants me! Chicks totally buy this poetry stuff!]

BERYL: I really want to know. (flash of a cheshire grin) [God, am I being too obvious?]

LEN: [mutter mutter something something about bricklayers and anguish anything to keep it going god I must look stupid am I making any sense]

B: (beside herself with passion, squirming in her chair, desperate to retain composure) What happens to your anguish when you see it spread all across the country and you know you're making money on it?

L: Well, I don't know if I'm going to make any money or not. (self-deprecating smile, gaze downward)

B: (another cheshire sodreamy grin)

Cut to Cohen muttering. Cut to Fox's eyes batting violently.

(...)

L: I thought I would change my name and get a tattoo.

B: Where?

L: This place on St. Lawrence Boulevard.

L & B: (internally slapping cosmic foreheads) [didn't just say that did I]

(...)

B: Critics have said that your love poetry has on occasion approached greatness... (craftily) [So, are you single or what?]

L: I think that everyone who isn't in love should be divorced. (mickeyrourke smile)

B: (mickeyrourkewasgreatinnineandahalfweeks smile)

[sing, leonard, sing]

L: I didn't bring my music.

B: Just listen to the sounds in your head. [oh god that was lame]

(...)

Peculiar flirty awkwardness al coda.