I don't even know where to start with this one. I'm going to find his e-mail address and send him a mouth full.

This is a joke? The previous commentors don't seem to get it, but I'm hoping you're joking.

Are you going for some kind of Demosthenesian faux demagoguery?

If so, I'd recommend tidying up your language a bit - you're not going to make anyone think with claims that you've stoned your children to death or by using words like 'sissies' and 'poop-sex'.

I think that the post is less disturbing than the fact that so many people can read:

I would hope that by reading my posts and examining my profile (and searching your soul, if you haven't already sold it to the devil in order to become a rap musician or online poker superstar) that you will know my heart is pure.

and still be confused as to whether or not this guy is serious (the answer is obviously no, by the way).

Paul, from the New Testament said out of fustration when everyone was arguing about circumsision (paraphased)"Why don't they just cut the whole thing off!" lol, I really liked him after reading that one. But mostly I think (if there is a God) that he hates those who attempt to pick the knat out of someone's eye but over look the log in their own eye.

FADE IN:

INT. DINING HALL - SARAH SIDDONS SOCIETY - NIGHT

It is not a large room and jammed with tables, mostly for
four but some for six and eight. A long table of honor, for
about thirty people, has been placed upon a dais.

Diner is over. Demi-tasses, cigars and brandy. The overall
effect is one of worn elegance and dogged gentility. It is
June.

The CAMERA, as it has been throughout the CREDIT TITLES, is
on the SARAH SIDDONS AWARD. It is a gold statuette, about a
foot high, of Sarah Siddons as The Tragic Muse. Exquisitely
framed in a nest of flowers, it rests on a miniature altar in
the center of the table of honor.

Over this we hear the crisp, cultured, precise VOICE of
ADDISON deWITT:

ADDISON'S VOICE
The Sarah Siddons Award for
Distinguished Achievement is
perhaps unknown to you. It has been
spared the sensational and
commercial publicity that attends
such questionable "honors" as the
Pulitzer Prize and those awards
presented annually by the film
society...

The CAMERA has EASED BACK to include some of the table of
honor and a distinguished gentleman with snow-white hair who
is speaking. We do not hear what he says.

ADDISON'S VOICE
The distinguished looking gentleman
is an extremely old actor. Being an
actor - he will go on speaking for
some time. It is not important what
you hear what he says.

The CAMERA EASES BACK some more, and CONTINUES until it
discloses a fairly COMPREHENSIVE SHOT of the room

ADDISON'S VOICE
However it is important that you
know where you are, and why you are
here. This is the dining room of
the Sarah Siddons Society.
The occasion is its annual banquet
and presentation of the highest
honor our Theater knows - the Sarah
Siddons Award for Distinguished
Achievement.

A GROUP OF WAITERS are clustered near the screen masking the
entrances of the kitchen. The screens are papered with old
theatrical programs. The waiters are all aged and venerable.
They look respectfully toward the speaker.

ADDISON'S VOICE
These hollowed walls, indeed many
of these faces, have looked upon
Modjeska, Ada Rehan and Minnie
Fiske; Mansfield's voice filled the
room, Booth breathed this air. It
is unlikely that the windows have
been opened since his death.

CLOSE - THE AWARD on its altar, it shines proudly above five
or six smaller altars which surround it and which are now
empty.

ADDISON'S VOICE
The minor awards, as you can see,
have already been presented. Minor
awards are for such as the writer
and director - since their function
is merely to construct a tower so
that the world can applaud a light
which flashes on top of it and no
brighter light has ever dazzled the
eye than Eve Harrington. Eve... but
more of Eve, later. All about Eve,
in fact.

THE CAMERA MOVES TO: CLOSE - ADDISON deWITT, not young, not
unattractive, a fastidious dresser, sharp of eye and
merciless of tongue. An omnipresent cigarette holder projects
from his mouth like the sward of D'Artagnan.

He sits back in his chair, musingly, his fingers making
little cannonballs out of bread crumbs. His narration covers
the MOVE of the CAMERA to him:

ADDISON'S VOICE
To those of you who do not read,
attend the Theater, listen to
uncensored radio programs or know
anything of the world in which we
live - it is perhaps necessary to
introduce myself. My name is
Addison deWitt.
My native habitat is the Theater -
in it I toil not, neither do I
spin. I am a critic and
commentator. I am essential to the
Theater - as ants are to a picnic,
as the ball weevil to a cotton
field...

He looks to his left. KAREN RICHARDS is lovely and thirtyish
in an unprofessional way. She is scraping bread crumbs,
spilled sugar, etc., into a pile with a spoon. Addison takes
one of her bread crumbs. She smiles absently. Addison rolls
the bread crumb into a cannonball.

ADDISON'S VOICE
This is Karen Richards. She is the
wife of a playwright, therefore of
the Theater by marriage. Nothing in
her background or breeding should
have brought her any closer the
stage than row E, center...

Karen continues her doodling.

ADDISON'S VOICE
... however, during her senior year
in Radcliffe, Lloyd Richards
lectured on drama. The following
year Karen became Mrs. Lloyd
Richards. Lloyd is the author of
'Footsteps on the Ceiling' - the
play which has won for Eve
Harrington the Sarah Siddons
Award...

Karen absently pats the top of her little pile of refuse. A
hand reaches in to take the spoon away. Karen looks as the
CAMERA PANS with IT to MAX FABIAN. He sits at her left. He's
a sad-faced man with glasses and a look of constant
apprehension. He smiles apologetically and indicated a white
powder with he unwraps. He pantomimes that his ulcer is
snapping.

Karen smiles back, returns to her doodling. Addison mashes a
cigarette stub, pops it out of his holder. He eyes Max.

ADDISON'S VOICE
There are two types of theatrical
producers. One has a great many
wealthy friends who will risk a tax
deductible loss. This type is
interested in Art.

Max drops the powder into some water, stirs it, drinks, burps
delicately and close his eyes.

ADDISON'S VOICE
The other is one to whom each
production mean potential ruin or
fortune. This type is out to make a
buck. Meet Max Fabian. He is the
producer of the play which has won
Eve Harrington the Sarah Siddons
Award...

Max rests fitfully. He twitches. A hand reaches into the
SCENE, removes a bottle of Scotch from before him. The CAMERA
follows the bottle to MARGO CHANNING. She sits at Max's left,
at deWitt's right. An attractive, strong face. She is
childish, adult, reasonable, unreasonable - usually one when
she should be the other, but always positive. She pours a
stiff drink.

Addison hold out the soda bottle to her. She looks at it, and
at him, as if it were a tarantula and he had gone mad. He
smiles and pours a glass of soda for himself.

ADDISON'S VOICE
Margo Channing is the Star of the
Theater. She made her first stage
appearance, at the age of four, in
'Midsummer Night's Dream'. She
played a fairy and entered - quite
unexpectedly - stark naked. She has
been a Star ever since.

Margo sloshes her drink around moodily, pulls at it.

ADDISON'S VOICE
Margo is a great Star. A true Star.
She never was or will be anything
less or anything less...
(slight pause)
... the part for which Eve
Harrington is receiving the Sarah
Siddons Award was intended
originally for Margo Channing...

Addison, having sipped his soda water, puts a new cigarette
in his holder, leans back, lights it, looks and exhales in
the general direction of the table of honor. As he speaks the
CAMERA MOVES in the direction of his glance...

ADDISON'S VOICE
Having covered in tedious detail
not only the history of the Sarah
Siddons Society, but also the
history of acting since Thespis
first stepped out of the chorus
line - our distinguished chairman
has finally arrived at our reason
for being here...

At this point Addison's voice FADES OUT and the voice of the
aged actor FADES IN. CAMERA is in MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT of him
and the podium.

AGED ACTOR
I have been proud and privileged to
have spent my life in the Theater -
"a poor player ... that struts and
frets his hour upon the stage" -
and I have been honored to be, for
forty years, Chief Promoter of the
Sarah Siddons Society...
(he lifts the Sarah
Siddons Award from its
altar)
Thirty-nine times have I placed in
deserving hands this highest honor
the Theater knows...
(he grows a bit arch, he
uses his eyebrows)
Surely no actor is older than I - I
have earned my place out of the
sun...
(indulgent laughter)
... and never before has this Award
gone to anyone younger than its
recipient tonight. How fitting that
it should pass from my hands to
hers...

EVE HANDS: Lovely, beautifully groomed. In serene repose,
they rest between a demi-tasse cup and an exquisite small
evening cup.

AGED ACTOR
Such young hands. Such a young
lady. Young in years, but whose
heart is as old as the Theater...

Addison's eyes narrow quizzically as he listens. Then,
slowly, he turns to look at Karen...

AGED ACTOR
Some of us a privileged to know
her. We have seen beyond the beauty
and artistry-

Karen never ceases her thoughtful pat-a-cake with the crumbs.

AGED ACTOR
-that have made her name resound
through the nation. We know her
humility. Her devotion, her loyalty
to her art.

Addison's glance moves from Karen to Margo.

AGED ACTOR
Her love, her deep and abiding love
for us-

Margo's face is a mask. She looks down at the drink which she
cradles with both hands.

AGED ACTOR
-for what we are and what we do.
The Theater. She has had one wish,
one prayer, one dream. To belong to
us.
(he's nearing his curtain
line)
Tonight her dream has come true.
And henceforth we shall dream the
same of her.
(a slight pause)
Honored members, ladies and
gentlemen - for distinguished
achievement in the Theater - the
Sarah Siddons Award to Miss Eve
Harrington.

The entire room is galvanized into sudden and tumultuous
applause. Some enthusiastic gentlemen rise to her feet...
Flash bulbs start popping about halfway down the table of the
Aged Actor's left...

Eve rises - beautiful, radiant, poised, exquisitely gowned.
She stands in simple and dignified response to the ovation.

A dozen photographers skip, squat, and dart about like water
bugs. Flash bulbs pop and pop and pop...

THE WAITERS applaud enthusiastically...

AGED ACTOR, Award in hand, he beams at her...

EVE smiles sweetly to her left, then to her right...

MAX has come to. He applauds lustily.

ADDISON's applauding too, more discreetly.

MARGO, not applauding. But you sense no deliberate slight,
merely an impression that as she looks at Eve her mind is on
something else...

KAREN, nor is she applauding. But her gaze is similarly fixed
on Eve in a strange, faraway fashion.

ADDISON, still applauding, his eyes flash first at Margo and
then at Karen. Then he directs them back to Eve. He smiles
ever so slightly.

The applause has continued unabated. EVE turns now, and moves
gracefully toward the Aged Actor. She moves through
applauding ladies and gentlemen; from below the flash bulbs
keep popping...

As she nears her goal, the Ages Actor turns to her. He holds
out the award. Her hand reaches out for it. At that precise
moment - with the award just beyond her fingertips - THE
PICTURE HOLDS, THE ACTION STOPS. The SOUND STOPS.

ADDISON'S VOICE
Eve. Eve, the Golden Girl. The
cover girl, the girl next door, the
girl on the moon... Time has been
good to Eve, Life goes where she
goes - she's been profiled,
covered, revealed, reported, what
she eats and when and where, whom
she knows and where she was and
when and where she's going...

ADDISON has stopped applauding, he's sitting forward, staring
intently at Eve... his narration continues unbroken.

ADDISON'S VOICE
... Eve. You all know all about
Eve... what can there be to know
that you don't know...?

As he leans back, the APPLAUSE FADES IN as tumultuous as
before. Addison's look moves slowly from Eve to Karen.

KAREN, she leans forward now, her eyes intently on Eve. Her
lovely face FILLS THE SCREEN as the APPLAUSE FADES ONCE MORE -
as she thinks back:

KAREN'S VOICE
When was it? How long? It seems a
lifetime ago. Lloyd always said
that in the Theater a lifetime was
a season, and a season a lifetime.
It's June now. That was - early
October... only last October. It
was a drizzly night, I remember I
asked the taxi to wait...

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. NEW YORK THEATER STREET - NIGHT

Traffic is not heavy, the shows have broken some half-hour
before. The rain is just a drizzle.

There are other theaters on the street; display lights are
being extinguished. Going out just as Karen's taxi pulls up
is: MARGO CHANNING in 'AGED IN WOOD'. The marquis display
below includes "Max Fabian Presents" and "By Lloyd Richards."

The taxi comes to a stop at the alley. Karen can be seen
through the closed windows telling the driver to wait. Then
she gets out. She takes a step, hesitates, then looks about
curiously:

KAREN'S VOICE
Where was she? Strange... I had
become so accustomed to seeing her
there night after night - I found
myself looking for a girl I'd never
spoken to, wondering where she
was...

She smiles a little at her own romanticism, puts her head
down and makes her way into the alley.

EXT. ALLEY - CURRAN THEATER - NIGHT

Karen moves toward the stage door. She passes a recess in the
wall - perhaps an exit - about halfway.

EVE'S VOICE
(softly)
Mrs. Richards...

Karen hesitates, looks. Eve is barely distinguishable in the
shadow of the recess. Karen smiles, waits. Eve comes out. A
gooseneck light above them reveals her...

She wears a cheap trench coat, low-heeled shoes, a rain hat
stuck on the back of her head... Her large, luminous eyes
seem to glow up at Karen in the strange half-light.

KAREN
So there you are. It seemed odd,
suddenly, your not being there...

EVE
Why should you think I wouldn't be?

KAREN
Why should you be? After all, six
nights a week - for weeks - of
watching even Margo Channing enter
and leave a theater-

EVE
I hope you don't mind my speaking
to you...

KAREN
Not at all.

EVE
I've seen you so often - it took
every bit of courage I could raise-

KAREN
(smiles)
To speak to just a playwright's
wife? I'm the lowest form of
celebrity...

EVE
You're Margo Channing's best
friend. You and your husband are
always with her - and Mr.
Sampson... what's he like?

KAREN
(grins)
Bill Sampson? He's - he's a
director.

EVE
He's the best.

KAREN
He'll agree with you. Tell me, what
do you between the time Margo goes
in and comes out? Just huddle in
that doorway and wait?

EVE
Oh, no. I see the play.

KAREN
(incredulous)
You see the play? You've seen the
play every performance?
(Eve nods)
But, don't you find it - I mean
apart from everything else - don't
you find it expensive?

EVE
Standing room doesn't cost much. I
manage.

Karen contemplates Eve. Then she takes her arm.

KAREN
I'm going to take you to Margo...

EVE
(hanging back)
Oh, no...

KAREN
She's got to meet you-

EVE
No, I'd be imposing on her, I'd be
just another tongue-tied gushing
fan...

Karen practically propels her toward the stage door.

KAREN
(insisting)
There isn't another like you, there
couldn't be-

EVE
But if I'd known... maybe some
other time... I mean, looking like
this.

KAREN
You look just fine...
(they're at the stage
door)
... by the way. What's your name?

EVE
Eve. Eve Harrington.

Karen opens the door. They go in.

INT. BACKSTAGE - CURRAN THEATER - NIGHT

Everything, including the doorman, looks fireproof.

Eve enters like a novitiate's first visit to the Vatican.
Karen, with a "Good evening, Gus -" to the doorman, leads the
way toward Margo's stage dressing room. Eve, drinking in the
wonderment of all the surveys, lags behind. Karen waits for
her to catch up...

EVE
You can breathe it - can't you?
Like some magic perfume...

Karen smiles, takes Eve's arm. They proceed to Margo's
dressing room.

EXT. MARGO'S DRESSING ROOM - CURRAN THEATER - NIGHT

No star on the closed door; the paint is peeling. A type
written chit, thumbtacked, says MISS CHANNING.

As Karen and Eve approach it, an uninhibited guffaw from
Margo makes them pause.

KAREN
(whispers)
You wait a minute...
(smiles)
... now don't run away-

Eve smiles shakily. At the same moment:

MARGO'S VOICE
(loudly; through the door)
"Honey chile," I said, "if the
South had won the war, you could
write the same plays about the
North!"

Karen enters during the line.

INT. MARGO'S DRESSING ROOM - CURRAN THEATER - NIGHT

It is a medium-sized box, lined with hot water pipes and
cracked plaster. It is furnished in beat-up wicker. A door
leads to an old-fashioned bathroom.

Margo is at the dressing table. She wears an old wrapper, her
hair drawn back tightly to fit under the wig which lies
before her like a dead poodle. Also before her is an almost
finished drink.

LLOYD RICHARDS is stretched out on the wicker chaise. He's in
his late thirties, sensitive, literate.

Between them, by the dressing table, is BIRDIE - Margo's
maid. Her age is unimportant. She was conceived during a
split week in Walla Walla and born in a carnival riot. She is
fiercely loyal to Margo.

Karen enters during the line Margo started while she was
outside. Lloyd chuckles, Birdie cackles.

KAREN
Hi.
(she goes to kiss Lloyd)
Hello, darling-

MARGO
Hi.
(she goes right on - in a
think "Suth'n" accent)
"Well, now Mis' Channin', ah don't
think you can rightly say we lost
the wah, we was mo' stahved out,
you might say - an' that's what ah
don' unnerstand about all these
plays about love-stahved Suth'n
women - love is one thing we was
nevah stahved for the South!"

LLOYD
How was the concert?

KAREN
Loud.

BIRDIE
Lemme fix you a drink.

KAREN
No thanks, Birdie.

Karen laughs with them.

LLOYD
Margo's interview with a lady
reporter from the South-

BIRDIE
The minute it gets printed they're
gonna fire on Gettysburg all over
again...

MARGO
It was Fort Sumter they fired on-

BIRDIE
I never played Fort Sumter.

She takes the wig into the bathroom. Margo starts creaming
the make-up off her face.

MARGO
Honey chili had a point. You know,
I can remember plays about women -
even from the South - where it
never even occurred to them whether
they wanted to marry their fathers
more than their brothers...

LLOYD
That was way back...

MARGO
Within your time, buster. Lloyd,
honey, be a playwright with guts.
Write me one about a nice, normal
woman who shoots her husband.

Birdie comes out of the bathroom without the wig.

BIRDIE
You need new girdles.

MARGO
Buy some.

BIRDIE
The same size?

MARGO
Of course!

BIRDIE
Well. I guess a real tight girdle
help when you're playin' a lunatic.

She picks up Lloud empty glass, asks "more"? He shakes his
head. She pours herself a quick one.

KAREN
(firmly)
Margo does not play a lunatic,
Birdie.

BIRDIE
I know. She just keeps hearin' her
dead father play the banjo.

MARGO
It's the tight girdle that does it.

KAREN
I find these wisecracks
increasingly less funny! 'Aged in
Wood' happens to be a fine and
distinguished play-

LLOYD
- 'at's my loyal little woman.

KAREN
The critics thought so, the
audiences certainly think so -
packed houses, tickets for months
in advance - I can't see that
either of Lloyd's last two plays
have hurt you any!

LLOYD
Easy, now...

MARGO
(grins)
Relax, kid. It's only me and my big
mouth...

KAREN
(mollified)
It's just that you get me so mad
sometimes... of all the women in
the world with nothing to complain
about-

MARGO
(dryly)
Ain't it the truth?

KAREN
Yes, it is! You're talented,
famous, wealthy - people waiting
around night after night just to
see you, even in the wind and
rain...

MARGO
Autograph fiends! They're not
people - those little beast who run
in packs like coyotes-

KAREN
They're your fans, your audience-

MARGO
They're nobody's fans! They're
juvenile delinquents, mental
detectives, they're nobody's
audience, they never see a play or
a movie, even - they're never
indoors long enough!

There is a pause. Lloyd applauds lightly.

KAREN
Well... there's one indoors now.
I've brought her back to see you.

MARGO
You've what?

KAREN
(in a whisper)
She's just outside the door.

MARGO
(to Birdie; also a
whisper)
The heave-ho.

Birdie starts. Karen stops her. It's all in whisper, now,
until Eve comes in.

KAREN
You can't put her out, I
promised... Margo, you've got to
see her, she worships you, it's
like something out of a book-

LLOYD
That book is out of print, Karen,
those days are gone.
Fans no longer pull the carriage
through the streets - they tear off
clothes and steal wrist watches...

KAREN
If you'd only see her, you're her
whole life - you must have spotted
her by now, she's always there...

MARGO
Kind of mousy trench coat and funny
hat?
(Karen nods)
How could I miss her? Every night
and matinee - well...

She looks to Birdie.

BIRDIE
Once George Jessel played my
hometown. For a girl, gettin' in to
see him was easy. Gettin' out was
the problem...

They all laugh. Karen goes to the door, opens it. Eve comes
in. Karen closes the door behind her. A moment.

EVE
(simply)
I thought you'd forgotten about me.

KAREN
Not at all.
(her arm through Eve's)
Margo, this is Eve Harrington.

Margo changes swiftly into a first-lady-of-the-theater
manner.

MARGO
(musically)
How do you do, my dear.

BIRDIE
(mutters)
Oh, brother.

EVE
Hello, Miss Channing.

KAREN
My husband...

LLOYD
(nicely)
Hello, Miss Harrington.

EVE
How do you do, Mr. Richards.

MARGO
(graciously)
And this is my good friend and
companion, Miss Birdie Coonan.

BIRDIE
Oh, brother.

MARGO
Miss Coonan...

LLOYD
(to Birdie)
Oh brother what?

BIRDIE
When she gets like this... all of a
sudden she's playin' Hamlet's
mother...

MARGO
(quiet menace)
I'm sure you must have things to do
in the bathroom, Birdie dear.

BIRDIE
If I haven't, I'll find something
till you're normal.

She goes into the bathroom.

MARGO
Dear Birdie. Won't you sit down,
Miss Worthington?

KAREN
Harrington.

MARGO
I'm so sorry... Harrington. Won't
you sit down?

EVE
Thank you.

She sits. A short lull.

MARGO
Would you like a drink? It's right
beside you...

KAREN
I was telling Margo and Lloyd about
how often you'd seen the play...

They start together, and stop in deference to each other.
They're a little flustered. But not Eve.

EVE
(to Margo)
No, thank you.
(to Lloyd)
Yes. I've seen every performance.

LLOYD
(delighted)
Every performance? Then - am I safe
in assuming you like it?

EVE
I'd like anything Miss Channing
played...

MARGO
(beams)
Would you, really? How sweet-

LLOYD
(flatly)
I doubt very much that you'd like
her in 'The Hairy Ape'.

EVE
Please, don't misunderstand me, Mr.
Richards. I think that part of Miss
Channing's greatness lies in her
ability to choose the best plays...
your new play is for Miss Channing,
isn't it, Mr. Richards?

MARGO
Of course it is.

LLOYD
How'd hear about it?

EVE
There was an item in the Times. i
like the title. 'Footsteps on the
Ceiling'.

LLOYD
Let's get back to this one. Have
you really seen every performance?
(Eve nods)
Why? I'm curious...

Eve looks at Margo, then drops her eyes.

EVE
Well. If I didn't come to see the
play, I wouldn't have anywhere else
to go.

MARGO
There are other plays...

EVE
Not with you in them. Not by Mr.
Richards...

LLOYD
But you must have friends, a
family, a home-

Eve pauses. Then shakes her head.

KAREN
Tell us about it - Eve...

Eve looks at her - grateful because Karen called her "Eve."
Then away, again...

EVE
If I only knew how...

KAREN
Try...

EVE
Well...

Birdie comes out of the bathroom. Everybody looks at her
sharply. She realizes she's in on something important. She
closes the door quietly, leans against it.

EVE
Well... it started with the play
before this one...

LLOYD
'Remembrance'.

MARGO
Did you see it here in New York?

EVE
San Francisco. It was the last
week. I went one night... the most
important night in my life - until
this one. Anyway... I found myself
going the next night - and the next
and the next. Every performance.
Then, when the show went East - I
went East.

BIRDIE
I'll never forget that blizzard the
night we played Cheyenne. A cold
night. First time I ever saw a
brassiere break like a piece of
matzos...

Eve looks at her unsmilingly, then back to her hands.

KAREN
Eve... why don't you start at the
beginning?

EVE
It couldn't possibly interest you.

MARGO
Please...

Eve speaks simply and without self-pity.

EVE
I guess it started back home.
Wisconsin, that is. There was just
mum, and dad - and me. I was the
only child, and I made believe a
lot when I was a kid - I acted out
all sorts of things... what they
were isn't important. But somehow
acting and make-believe began to
fill up my life more and more, it
got so that I couldn't tell the
real from the unreal except that
the unreal seemed more real to
me... I'm talking a lot of
gibberish, aren't I?

LLOYD
Not at all...

EVE
Farmers were poor in those days,
that's what dad was - a farmer. I
had to help out. So I quit school
and I went to Milwaukee. I became a
secretary. In a brewery.
(she smiles)
When you're a secretary in a
brewery - it's pretty hard to make
believe you're anything else.
Everything is beer. It wasn't much
fun, but it helped at home - and
there was a Little Theater Group...
like a drop of rain in the desert.
That's where I met Eddie. He was a
radio technician. We played
'Liliom' for three performances, I
was awful - then the war came, and
we got married. Eddie was in the
air force - and they sent him to
the South Pacific. You were with
the O.W.I., weren't you Mr.
Richards?
(Lloyd nods)
That's what 'Who's Who' says...
well, with Eddie gone, my life went
back to beer. Except for a letter a
week. One week Eddie wrote he had a
leave coming up. I'd saved my money
and vacation time. I went to San
Francisco to meet him.
(a slight pause)
Eddie wasn't there. They forwarded
the telegram from Milwaukee - the
one that came from Washington to
say that Eddie wasn't coming at
all. That Eddie was dead...
(Karen puts her hand on
Lloyd's)
... so I figured I'd stay in San
Francisco. i was alone, but
couldn't go back without Eddie. I
found a job. And his insurance
helped... and there were theaters
in San Francisco. And one night
Margo Channing came to play in
'Remembrance'... and I went to see
it. And - well - here I am...

She finishes dry-eyes and self-composed. Margo squeezes the
bridge of her nose, dabs at her eyes.

BIRDIE
(finally)
What a story. Everything but the
bloodhounds snappin' at her rear
end...

That breaks the spell. Margo turns to her-

MARGO
There are some human experiences,
Birdie, that do not take place in a
vaudeville house - and that even a
fifth-rate vaudevillian should
understand and respect!
(to Eve)
I want to apologize for Birdie's-

BIRDIE
(snaps in)
You don't have to apologize for me!
(to Eve)
I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings.
It's just my way of talkin'...

EVE
(nicely)
You didn't hurt my feelings, Miss
Coonan...

BIRDIE
Call me Birdie.
(to Margo)
As for bein' fifth-rate - i closed
the first half for eleven years an'
you know it!

She slams into the bathroom again. At that precise instant
BILL SAMPSON flings open the door to the dressing room. He's
youngish, vital, undisciplined. He lugs a beat-up suitcase
which he drops as he crosses to Margo-

BILL
Forty-five minutes from now my
plane takes off and how do I find
you? Not ready yet, looking like a
junk yard-

MARGO
Thank you so much.

BILL
Is it sabotage, does my career mean
nothing to you? Have you no human
consideration?

MARGO
Show me a human and I might have!

KAREN
(conscious of Eve)
Bill...

BILL
The air lines have clocks, even if
you haven't! I start shooting a
week from Monday - Zanuck is
impatient, he wants me, he needs
me!

KAREN
(louder)
Bill-

MARGO
Zanuck, Zanuck, Zanuck! What are
you two - lovers?

Bill grins suddenly, drops to one knee beside her.

BILL
(smiling)
Only in some ways. You're
prettier...

MARGO
I'm a junk yard.

KAREN
(yells)
Bill!

BILL
(vaguely; to Karen)
Huh?

KAREN
This is Eve Harrington.

Bill flashes a fleeting look at Eve.

BILL
Hi.
(to Margo)
My wonderful junk yard. The mystery
and dreams you find in a junk yard-

MARGO
(kisses him)
Heaven help me, I love a psychotic.

Bill grins, rises, sees Eve as if for the first time.

BILL
Hello, what's your name?

EVE
Eve. Eve Harrington.

KAREN
You've already met.

BILL
Where?

KAREN
Right here. A minute ago.

BILL
That's nice.

MARGO
She, too, is a great admirer of
yours.

BIRDIE
Imagine. All this admiration in
just one room.

BILL
Take your mistress into the
bathroom and dress her.
(Birdie opens her mouth)
Without comment.

Birdie shuts it and goes into the bathroom. In a moment we
hear a shower start to run. Eve gets up.

KAREN
You're not going, are you?

EVE
I think I'd better. It's been -
well, I can hardly find the words
to say how it's been...

MARGO
(rises)
No, don't go...

EVE
The four of you must have so much
to say to each other - with Mr.
Sampson leaving...

Margo, impulsively crosses to Eve.

MARGO
Stick around. Please. Tell you what
- we'll put Stanislavsky on his
plane, you and I, then go somewhere
and talk.

EVE
Well - if I'm not in the way...

MARGO
I won't be a minute.

She darts into the bathroom. Eve sits down again.

KAREN
Lloyd, we've got to go-

Lloyd gets up. Karen crosses to pound on the bathroom door.
She yells - the shower is going...

KAREN
Margo, good night! I'll call you
tomorrow!

Margo's answer is lost in the shower noise. Karen crosses to
kiss Bill. She's joined by Lloyd.

KAREN
Good luck, genius...

BILL
Geniuses don't need good luck.
(he grins)
I do.

LLOYD
I'm not worried about you.

BILL
Keep the thought.

They shake hands warmly. Karen and Lloyd move to Eve.

KAREN
Good night, Eve. I hope I see you
again soon-

EVE
I'll be at the old stand, tomorrow
matinee-

KAREN
Not just that way. As a friend...

EVE
I'd like that.

LLOYD
It's been a real pleasure, Eve.

EVE
I hope so, Mr. Richards. Good
night...

Lloyd shakes her hand, crosses to join Karen who waits at the
open dressing room door.

EVE
Mrs. Richards.
(Karen and Lloyd look
back)
... I'll never forget this night as
long as I live. And I'll never
forget you for making it possible.

Karen smiles warmly. She closes the door. They leave.

KAREN'S VOICE
- and I'll never forget you, Eve.
Where were we going that night,
Lloyd and I? Funny the things you
remember - and the things you
don't...

INT. MARGO'S DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT

Eve sits on the same chair. Bill keeps moving around. Eve
never takes her eyes off him. He offers her a cigarette. She
shakes her head. He looks at his watch.

EVE
You said forty-seven minutes.
You'll never make it.

BILL
(grins)
I told you a lie. We'll make it
easily. Margo's got no more
conception of time than a halibut.

He goes to the dressing table, picks up Margo's pocketbook,
opens it. He finds a letter. He glances at it, puts it back.

BILL
She's been carrying that letter
around for weeks. I've read it
three times...

There's a sudden sharp yelp from the bathroom.

MARGO'S VOICE
You're supposed to zip the zipper -
not me.

BIRDIE'S VOICE
Like tryin' to zip a pretzel -
stand still!

Bill grins.

BILL
What a documentary those two would
make... like the mongoose and the
cobra-

He sprawls on the chaise, closes his eyes. A pause.

EVE
(finally)
So you're going to Hollywood.

Bill grunts in the affirmative. Silence.

BILL
Why?

EVE
I just wondered.

BILL
Just wondered what?

EVE
Why.

BILL
Why what?

EVE
Why you have to go out there.

BILL
I don't have to. I want to.

EVE
Is it the money?

BILL
Eighty percent of it will go for
taxes.

EVE
Then why? Why, if you're the best
and most successful young director
in the Theater-

BILL
The Theatuh, the Theatuh-
(he sits up)
- what book of rules says the
Theater exists only within some
ugly buildings crowded into one
square mile of New York City? Or
London, Paris or Vienna?
(he gets up)
Listen, junior. And learn. Want to
know what the Theater is? A flea
circus. Also opera. Also rodeos,
carnivals, ballets, Indian tribal
dances, Punch and Judy, a one-man
band - all Theater. Wherever
there's magic and make-believe and
an audience - there's Theater.
Donald Duck, Ibsen, and The Lone
Ranger, Sarah Bernhardt, Poodles
Hanneford, Lunt and Fontanne, Betty
Grable, Rex and Wild, and Eleanora
Duse. You don't understand them
all, you don't like them all, why
should you? The Theater's for
everybody - you included, but not
exclusively - so don't approve or
disapprove. It may not be your
Theater, but it's Theater of
somebody, somewhere.

EVE
I just asked a simple question.

BILL
(grins)
And I shot my mouth off. Nothing
personal, junior, no offense...
(he sits back down)
... it's just that there's so much
bushwah in this Ivory Green Room
they call the Theatuh - sometimes
it gets up around my chin...

He lies down again.

EVE
But Hollywood. You mustn't stay
there.

BILL
(he closes his eyes)
It's only one picture deal.

EVE
So few come back...

BILL
Yeah. They keep you under drugs out
there with armed guards...

A pause.

EVE
I read George Jean Nathan every
week.

BILL
Also Addison deWitt.

EVE
Every day.

BILL
You didn't have to tell me.

Margo, putting on an earring, buzzes out of the bathroom
followed by Birdie. Bill sits up.

MARGO
(en route)
I understand it's the latest thing -
just one earring. If it isn't, it's
going to be - I can't find the
other...

She grabs her pocketbook, starts rummaging. Out comes the
letter...

BILL
Throw that dreary thing away, it
bores me-

Margo drops it in the wastebasket, keeps rummaging.

EVE
(concerned)
Where do you suppose it could be?

BIRDIE
It'll show up.

MARGO
(gives up)
Oh well...
(to Birdie)
... look through the wigs, maybe it
got caught-

BILL
Real diamonds in a wig. The world
we live in...

MARGO
(she's been looking)
Where's my coat?

BIRDIE
Right where you left it...

She goes behind the chaise. She comes up with a magnificent
mink.

BILL
(to Margo)
The seams.

Margo starts to straighten them.

MARGO
(to Eve)
Can't keep his eyes off my legs.

BILL
Like a nylon lemon peel-

MARGO
(straightens up)
Byron couldn't have said it more
graciously... here we go-

By now she's in the coat and has Eve's arm, heading for the
door. Bill puts his arms around Birdie.

BILL
Got any messages? What do you want
me to tell Tyrone Power?

BIRDIE
Just give him my phone number, I'll
tell him myself.

Bill kisses her cheek. She kisses Bill.

BIRDIE
Kill the people.
(to Margo)
Got your key?

MARGO
(nods)
See you home...

Margo and Eve precede Bill out of the door...

EXT. LAGUARDIA FIELD - NIGHT

American Airlines baggage counter. The rain has stopped, but
it's wet.

Margo, Eve, and Bill are stymied behind two or three couples
waiting to be checked in. Margo's arm is through Bill's. They
become increasingly aware of their imminent separation. Eve
senses her superfluity.

A lull. Bill cranes at the passenger heading the line, in
earnest conversation with the dispatcher. He sighs.

MARGO
They have to time it so everybody
gets on at the last minute. So they
can close the doors and let you
sit.

The man up ahead moves on.

BILL
Ah...

EVE
I have a suggestion.
(they look at her)
There's really not much time left -
I mean, you haven't had a minute
alone yet, and - well, I could take
care of everything here and meet
you at the gate with the ticket...
if you'd like.

BILL
I think we'd like very much. Sure
you won't mind?

EVE
Of course not.

Bill hands Eve the ticket. Margo smiles gratefully at her.
Eve smiles back.

EXT. PASSAGE AND GATE - LAGUARDIA - NIGHT

It's covered, with glass windows. Margo's arm is in Bill's.

BILL
She's quite a girl, that what's-her
name...

MARGO
Eve. I'd forgotten they grew that
way...

BILL
The lack of pretense, that sort of
strange directness and
understanding-

MARGO
Did she tell you about the Theater
and what it meant?

BILL
(grins)
I told her. I sounded off.

MARGO
All the religions in the world
rolled into one, and we're Gods and
Goddesses... isn't it silly,
suddenly I've developed a big
protective feeling for her - a lamb
loose in our big stone jungle...

Bill pauses and pulls her to one side. Some passengers go by.
A pause.

MARGO
Take care of yourself out there...

BILL
I understand they've got the
Indians pretty well in hand...

MARGO
Bill...

BILL
Huh?

MARGO
Don't get stuck on some glamour
puss-

BILL
I'll try.

MARGO
You're not such a bargain, you
know, conceited and thoughtless and
messy-

BILL
Everybody can't be Gregory Peck.

MARGO
- you're a setup for some gorgeous
wide-eyed young babe.

BILL
How childish are you going to get
before you quit it?

MARGO
I don't want to be childish, I'd
settle for just a few years-

BILL
(firmly)
And cut that out right now.

MARGO
Am I going to lose you, Bill? Am I?

BILL
As of this moment you're six years
old...

He starts to kiss her, stops when he becomes aware of Eve
standing near them. She has his ticket in her hand.

EVE
All ready.

She hands Bill his ticket, they start toward the gate.

INT. BOARDING GATE - LAGUARDIA - NIGHT

The D.C. 6 in the b.g. A few visitors. Bill hands his ticket
to the guard, turns to Eve.

BILL
Thanks for your help... good luck.

EVE
Goodbye, Mr. Sampson.

Bill puts his arms around Margo.

BILL
Knit me a muffler.

MARGO
Call me when you get in...

They kiss. Margo's arms tighten desperately. Bill pulls away,
kisses her again lightly, starts for the plane. Margo turns
away. Eve puts her arms through Margo's.

Bill pauses en route to the plane.

BILL
Hey - junior...

Margo turns to look at him with Eve.

BILL
Keep your eyes on her. Don't let
her get lonely. She's a loose lamb
in a jungle...

Eve looks at Margo. Margo smiles.

EVE
Don't worry...

Bill waves, climbs aboard. The door is closed behind him, the
departure routine starts...

Margo and eve turn to go. They walk down the passage. As they
walk, Eve gently disengages her arm from Margo's and puts it
comfortingly about her...

MARGO'S VOICE
That same night we sent for Eve's
things, her few pitiful
possessions... she moved into the
little guest room on the top
floor...

INT. DINING HALL - NIGHT

MARGO slides her fingers reflectively up and down the sides
of the almost empty highball glass.

MARGO'S VOICE
... she cried when she saw it - it
was so like her little room back
home in Wisconsin.

ADDISON eyeing her quizzically. He offers her the whiskey.

MARGO shakes her head, absently. She looks down at her glass
again. Then, she raises her eyes to look at Eve.

MARGO'S VOICE
... the next three weeks were out
of a fairy tale - and I was
Cinderella in the last act. Eve
became my sister, lawyer, mother,
friend, psychiatrist and cop - the
honeymoon was on...

INT. MARGO'S LIVING ROOM - DAY

It's one floor above street level. A long narrow room,
smartly furnished - including a Sarah Siddons Award.

MARGO'S NARRATIVE overlaps into the scene which is a SILENT
ONE.

Eve sits at a smart desk. She is just arranging a stack of
letters which she carries to Margo with a pen. Margo sits
comfortably by the fire with a play script. She hands the
scrips up to Eve, shakes her head and holds her nose. Eve
smiles, takes the script, hands Margo the letters to sign.

Birdie comes in with a tea tray which she sets on a low table
before the fire.

The phone rings.

Birdie and Eve both go for it. Eve gets there first. By her
polite but negative attitude, we know she is giving someone a
skillful brush-off.

Birdie glares first at her, then at Margo.

Margo leans her head back, closes her eyes blissfully...

Birdie slams the double door to the landing on her way out...

INT. BACKSTAGE - CURRAN THEATER - DAY

From the wings. The audience is never visible. Eve in the
f.g. Margo and company taking a curtain call. Tumultuous
applause... the curtain falls. The cast, except for Margo and
two male leads, walk off. The curtain rises again...

EVE, watching and listening to the storm of applause. Her
eyes shine, she clasps and unclasps her hands...

THE STAGE, Eve again in the f.g., but closer. Again the
curtain falls. This time the two men go off. Curtain rises on
Margo alone. If anything, the applause builds...

EVE, that same hypnotic look... there are tears in her eyes.
The curtain falls offscene, then rises again -

MARGO, the curtain falls again between her and CAMERA...

BACKSTAGE, the curtain just settling on the floor. Margo
starts off.

STAGE MANAGER
One more?

MARGO
(shakes her head)
From now on it's not applause -
just something to do till the
aisles get less crowded...

She walks as she talks and winds up at Eve - still in the
wings. Eve's eyes are wet, she dabs at her nose.

MARGO
What - again?

EVE
I could watch you play that last
scene a thousand times and cry
every time-

MARGO
(grins)
Performance number one thousand of
this one - if I play it that long -
will take place in a well-padded
booby hatch...

She takes Eve's arm, they stroll toward her dressing room.

EVE
I must say you can certainly tell
Mr. Sampson's been gone a month.

MARGO
You certainly can. Especially if
you're me between now and tomorrow
morning...

EVE
I mean the performance. Except for
you, you'd think he'd never even
directed it - it's disgraceful the
way they change everything
around...

MARGO
(smiles)
Well, teacher's away and actors
will be actors...

EVE
During your second act scene with
your father, Roger Ferraday's
supposed to stay way upstage at the
arch. He's been coming closer down
every night...

MARGO
When he gets too close, I'll spit
in his eye.

They're at her dressing room by now. Margo's been unhooking
her gown, with Eve's help. They go in.

INT. MARGO'S DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT

It's undergone quite a change. A new carpet, chintz covers
for the furniture, new lampshades, dainty curtains across the
filthy barred window.

Birdie waits within. She's listening to a fight; she shuts it
off as they enter.

MARGO
(entering)
You bought the new girdles a size
smaller. I can feel it.

BIRDIE
Something maybe grew a size bigger.

MARGO
When we get home you're going to
get into one of those girdles and
act for two and half hours.

BIRDIE
I couldn't get into the girdle in
two an' a half hours...

Margo's out of her wig and dress by now. She gets into her
robe, sits at the dressing table. Eve's on the chaise, by the
discarded costume.

EVE
You haven't noticed my latest bit
of interior decorating...

MARGO
(turns, looks)
Well, you've done so much... what's
new?

EVE
The curtains. I made them myself.

MARGO
They are lovely. Aren't they
lovely, Birdie?

BIRDIE
Adorable. We now got everything a
dressing room needs except a
basketball hoop.

MARGO
Just because you can't even work a
zipper. It was very thoughtful,
Eve, and I appreciate it-

A pause. Eve rises, picking up Margo's costume.

EVE
While you're cleaning up, I'll take
this to the wardrobe mistress-

MARGO
Don't bother. Mrs. Brown'll be
along for it in a minute.

EVE
No trouble at all.

And she goes out with the costume. Birdie opens her mouth,
shuts it, then opens it again.

BIRDIE
If I may so bold as to say
something - did you ever hear the
word "union"?

MARGO
Behind in your dues? How much?

BIRDIE
I haven't got a union. I'm slave
labor.

MARGO
Well?

BIRDIE
But the wardrobe women have got
one. And next to a tenor, a
wardrobe woman is the touchiest
thing in show business-

MARGO
(catching on)
Oh-oh.

BIRDIE
She's got two things to do - carry
clothes an' press 'em wrong - an'
just let anybody else muscle in...

As she talks, Margo hurries to the door and out after Eve.

INT. BACKSTAGE - CURRAN THEATER - NIGHT

Margo pops out, looks for Eve, then stares in amazement.

EVE, near the wings. She stands before a couple of cheval
mirrors set up for cast members. She has Margo's dress held
up against her body. She turns this way and that, bows as if
to applause - mimicking Margo exactly...

MARGO watches her curiously. Then she smiles.

MARGO
(calling)
Eve-

EVE, startled, whips the gown away, turns to Margo.

MARGO smiles understandingly.

MARGO
(quietly)
I think we'd better let Mrs. Brown
pick up the wardrobe...

Wordlessly, Eve brings it toward her...

INT. MARGO'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Margo's asleep. A bedside clock with a luminous dial reads 3
A.M. exactly. The phone rings. Her head comes up out of the
pillow, she shakes it. She fumbles, switches on a lamp, then
picks up the phone.

MARGO
Hello..

OPERATOR'S VOICE
We are ready with your call to
Beverly Hills...

MARGO
Call, what call?

OPERATOR'S VOICE
It this Templeton 89970? Miss Margo
Channing?

MARGO
That's right, but I don't
understand-

OPERATOR'S VOICE
We are ready with the call you
placed for 12 midnight, California
time, to Mr. William Sampson in
Beverly Hills...

MARGO
I placed...?

OPERATOR'S VOICE
Go ahead, please...

BILL'S VOICE
(a loud, happy squawk)
Margo! What a wonderful surprise!

Margo jumps at his vehemence. As she does so, the SCREEN
WIPES DOWN DIAGONALLY LEFT TO RIGHT, so that Margo remains in
the lower right-hand diagonal of the screen and Bill is
disclosed in the upper left. He, too, is in bed, reading. His
clock says midnight.

BILL
(continuing)
What a thoughtful, ever-lovin'
thing to do-

MARGO
(dazed)
Bill? Have I gone crazy, Bill?

BILL
You're my girl, aren't you?

MARGO
That I am...

BILL
Then you're crazy.

MARGO
(nods in agreement)
When - when are you coming back?

BILL
I leave in a week - the picture's
all wrapped up, we previewed last
night... those previews. Like
opening out of town, but
terrifying. There's nothing you can
do, you're trapped, you're in a tin
can-

MARGO
- in a tin can, cellophane or
wrapped in a Navajo blanket, I want
you home...

BILL
You in a hurry?

MARGO
A big hurry, be quick about it - so
good night, darling, and sleep
tight...

BILL
Wait a minute! You can't hang up,
you haven't even said it-

MARGO
Bill, you know how much I do - but
over the phone, now really, that's
kid stuff...

BILL
Kid stuff or not, it doesn't happen
every day, I want to heat it - and
if you won't say it, you can sing
it...

MARGO
(convinced she's gone mad)
Sing it?

BILL
Sure! Like the Western Union boys
used to do...

Margo's eyes pop. Her jaw and the phone sag.

MARGO
Bill... Bill, it's your birthday.

BILL
And who remembered it? Who was
there on the dot, at twelve
midnight...?

Margo knows damn well it wasn't she.

MARGO
(miserably)
Happy birthday, darling...

BILL
The reading could have been better,
but you said it - now "many happy
returns of the day..."

MARGO
(the same)
Many happy returns of the day...

BILL
I get a party, don't I?

MARGO
Of course, birthday and welcome
home... who'll I ask?

BILL
(laughs)
It's no secret, I know all about
the party - Eve wrote me...

MARGO
She did...?

BILL
She hasn't missed a week since I
left - but you know all that, you
probably tell her what to write...
anyway, I sent her a list of people
to ask - check with her.

MARGO
Yeah... I will.

BILL
How is Eve? Okay?

MARGO
Okay.

BILL
I love you...

MARGO
(mutters)
I'll check with Eve...

BILL
What?

MARGO
I love you too. Good night, darling-

BILL
See you...

Margo hangs up. Bill hangs up. He replaces the phone, picks
up his book... SLOW WIPE until ONLY MARGO is on screen. She
puts her phone away. She gets a cigarette. She lights it. She
rolls over on her back...

INT. MARGO'S BEDROOM - DAY

Margo is propped up in bed, still reflective. Birdie comes in
with her breakfast tray and a "hi" which gets a "hi" from
Margo. She starts on some petty chores. Margo takes a sip of
orange juice...

MARGO
Birdie-

BIRDIE
Hmm?

MARGO
You don't like Eve, do you?

BIRDIE
Do you want an argument or an
answer?

MARGO
An answer.

BIRDIE
No.

MARGO
Why not?

BIRDIE
Now you want an argument.

MARGO
She works hard.

BIRDIE
Night an' day.

MARGO
She's loyal and efficient-

BIRDIE
Like an agent with one client.

MARGO
She thinks only for me...
(no answer from Birdie)
... doesn't she?

BIRDIE
(finally)
Well... let's say she thinks only
about you, anyway...

MARGO
How do you mean that?

Birdie stops whatever it is she's doing.

BIRDIE
I'll tell you how. Like - let's see
- like she was studyin' you, like
you were a play or a book or a set
of blueprints. How you walk, talk,
think, eat, sleep-

MARGO
(breaks in; sharply)
I'm sure that's very flattering,
Birdie, and I'm sure there's
nothing wrong with that!

There is a sharp, brisk knock. Eve comes in. She's dressed in
a smart suit. She carries a leather portfolio.

EVE
Good morning!

Margo says "good morning," Birdie says nothing. Eve shows off
the suit, proudly.

EVE
Well - what do you think of my
elegant new suit?

MARGO
Very becoming. It looks better on
you than it did on me.

EVE
(scoffs)
I can imagine... you know, all it
needed was some taking in here and
letting out there - are you sure
you won't want it yourself?

MARGO
Quite sure. I find it just a bit
too - too "Seventeenish" for me...

EVE
(laughs)
Oh, come now, as though you were an
old lady... I'm on my way. Is there
anything more you've thought of-?

MARGO
There's the script to go back to
the Guild-

EVE
I've got it.

MARGO
- and those checks or whatever it
is for the income tax man.

EVE
Right here.

MARGO
It seems I can't think of a thing
you haven't thought of...

EVE
(smile)
That's my job.
(she turns to go)
See you at tea time...

MARGO
Eve...
(Eve turns at the door)
... by any chance, did you place a
call from me to Bill for midnight
California time?

EVE
(gasps)
Oh, golly. And I forgot to tell you-

MARGO
Yes, dear. You forgot all about it.

EVE
Well, I was sure you'd want to, of
course, being his birthday, and
you've been so busy these past few
days, and last night I meant to
tell you before you went out with
the Richards - and I guess I was
asleep when you got home...

MARGO
Yes, I guess you were. It - it was
very thoughtful of you, Eve.

EVE
Mr. Sampson's birthday. I certainly
wouldn't forget that. You'd never
forgive me.
(she smiles shyly)
As a matter of fact, I sent him a
telegram myself...

And she's gone. Margo stares at the closed door. Then at
Birdie. Birdie, without comment, goes out. Margo, alone,
looks down at her orange juice. Absently, she twirls it in
its bed of shaved ice...

INT. DINING HALL - SARAH SIDDONS SOCIETY - NIGHT

MARGO, reflectively twirling her highball glass. The applause
continues. She lifts her glass to drink. Her glance meets
Karen's. She raises the glass in a silent toast.

KAREN smiles wanly at Margo's toast. Then the smile fades as
she looks reflectively back to Eve...

KAREN'S VOICE
I saw Eve quite often after our
first meeting, but we never really
talked again - until the party
Margo gave for Bill when he
returned from Hollywood...

INT. MARGO'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

It's January. The bed is littered with fur coats. Through the
open door, from the floor below, the murmur of a party at a
late hour. No hilarity.

KAREN'S VOICE
It's always convenient at a party
to know the hostess well enough to
use her bedroom rather than go
where all the others have to go...

Karen is making repairs at Margo's dressing table. Eve
enters, carrying a magnificent sable coat which she drops on
the bed.

KAREN
Now who's show up at this hour?
It's time people went home - hold
that coat up...
(Eve holds it up; Karen
whistles)
... whose is it?

EVE
Some Hollywood movie star, her
plane got in late.

KAREN
Discouraging, isn't it? Women with
furs like that where it never gets
cold...

EVE
Hollywood.

KAREN
Tell me, Eve - how are things with
you? Happy?

Eve melts into warmth. She beams, sits on the bed. Karen has
spun around on the dressing table stool.

EVE
There should be a new word for
happiness. Being here with Miss
Channing has been - I just can't
say, she's been so wonderful, done
so much for me-

KAREN
(smiles)
Lloyd says Margo compensates for
underplaying on the stage by
overplaying reality...
(she gets up, gets her
coat)
... next to that sable, my new mink
seems like an old bedjacket...
(throws it over her
shoulder)
... you've done your share, Eve.
You've worked wonders with Margo...

She starts out.

EVE
(hesitantly)
Mrs. Richards.

KAREN
(pauses, smiles)
Karen.

EVE
Karen...
(she picks at the
coverlet)
... isn't it awful, I'm about to
ask you for another favor - after
all you've already done.

KAREN
(crosses to her)
Nobody's done so much, Eve, you've
got to stop thinking of yourself as
one of the Hundred Neediest
Cases... what is it?

EVE
Well... Miss Channing's affairs are
in such good shape... there isn't
enough to keep me as busy as I
should be, really - not that I've
ever considered anything that would
take me away from her... but the
other day - when I heard Mr. Fabian
tell Miss Channing that her
understudy was going to have a
baby, and they'd have to replace
her...

She looks down at the coverlet once more.

KAREN
... you want to be Margo's new
understudy.

EVE
I don't let myself think about it,
even-
(she looks up, rises as
she speaks)
- but I do know the part so well,
and every bit of the staging,
there'd be no need to break in a
new girl-
(suddenly afraid, she
sits)
- but suppose I had to go on one
night? To an audience that came to
see Margo Channing. No, I couldn't
possibly...

KAREN
(laughs)
Don't worry too much about that.
Margo just doesn't miss
performances. If she can walk,
crawl or roll - she plays.

EVE
(nods proudly)
The show must go on.

KAREN
No, dear. Margo must go on.
(she sits beside Eve)
As a matter of fact, I see no
reason why you shouldn't be Margo's
understudy...

EVE
Do you think Miss Channing would
approve?

KAREN
I think she would cheer.

EVE
But Mr. Richards and Mr. Sampson-

KAREN
They'll do as they're told.

Eve smiles a little. A pause.

EVE
Then - would you talk to Mr. Fabian
about it?

KAREN
Of course.

EVE
You won't forget it?

KAREN
I won't forget.

EVE
I seem to be forever thanking you
for something, don't I?

She hugs Karen, leaves. She nearly collides with Birdie on
her way in.

BIRDIE
The bed looks like a dead animal
act. Which one is sables?

KAREN
(pointing)
But she just got here...

BIRDIE
She's on her way. With half the men
in the joint.
(she hold up the coat)
It's only a fur coat...

KAREN
What did you expect - live sables?

BIRDIE
A diamond collar, gold sleeves -
you know, picture people...

They start out.

KAREN
Bill says actors out there eat just
as infrequently as here-

BIRDIE
They can always grab oranges off
trees. This you can't do in Times
Square...

Through the open door, we see them go down the stairs and out
of sight.

INT. SECOND FLOOR LANDING AND STAIRS - NIGHT

Karen and Birdie come down the stairs to Bill, Max, Addison,
a blonde young lady named MISS CASWELL (Addison's protegee-of
the-moment) - and, at the feet of Bill and Addison... Eve.
They are all seated on the steps.

Birdie goes through and down the stairs to the first floor.
Karen remains with the others.

Addison is holding forth:

ADDISON
Every now and then, some elder
statesman of the Theater or cinema
assures the public that actors and
actresses are just plain folk.
Ignoring the fact that their
greatest attraction to the public
is their complete lack of
resemblance to normal human beings.

MISS CASWELL
(as Birdie and the sables
pass)
Now there's something a girl could
make sacrifices for.

BILL'S VOICE
And probably has.

MISS CASWELL
Sable.

MAX
(to Miss Caswell)
Did you say sable - or Gable?

MISS CASWELL
Either one.

ADDISON
It is senseless to insist that
theatrical folk in New York,
Hollywood and London are no
different from the good people of
Des Moines, Chillicothe and
Liverpool. By and large, we are
concentrated gatherings of
neurotics, egomaniacs, emotional
misfits, and precocious children-

MAX
(to Bill)
Gable. Why a feller like that don't
come East to do a play...

BILL
(nods)
He must be miserable, the life he
lives out there-

ADDISON
These so-called abnormalities -
they're our stock in trade, they
make us actors, writers, directors,
et cetera in the first place-

MAX
Answer me this. What makes a man
become a producer?

ADDISON
What makes a man walk into a lion
cage with nothing but a chair?

MAX
This answer satisfies me a hundred
percent.

ADDISON
We all have abnormality in common.
We are a breed apart from the rest
of the humanity, we Theater folk.
We are the original displaced
personalities...

BILL
(laughs; to Eve)
You don't have to read his column
tomorrow - you just heard it. I
don't agree, Addison...

ADDISON
That happens to be your particular
abnormality.

BILL
Oh, I admit there's a screwball
element in the Theater. It sticks
out, it's got spotlights on it and
a brass band. But it isn't basic,
it isn't standard - if it were, the
Theater couldn't survive...

MISS CASWELL
(to a passing butler)
Oh, waiter...

The butler goes right by.

ADDISON
That isn't a waiter, my dear.
That's a butler.

MISS CASWELL
Well, I can't yell "Oh, butler,"
can I? Maybe somebody's name is
Butler...

ADDISON
You have a point. An idiotic one,
but a point.

MISS CASWELL
I don't want to make trouble. All I
want is a drink.

MAX
(getting up)
Leave me get you one...

MISS CASWELL
(pitching)
Oh, thank you, Mr. Fabian.

Max leaves with her empty glass.

ADDISON
Well done. I see your career rising
in the East like the sun...
(to Bill)
... you were saying?

BILL
I was saying that the Theater is
nine-tenths hard work. Work done
the hard way - by sweat,
application and craftsmanship. I'll
agree to this - that to be a good
actor, actress, or anything else in
the Theater, means wanting to be
that more than anything else in the
world...

EVE
(abruptly)
Yes. Yes, it does.

BILL
(goes on)
It means concentration of ambition,
desire, and sacrifice such as no
other profession demands... And
I'll agree that the man or woman
who accepts those terms can't be
ordinary, can't be - just someone.
To give so much for almost always
so little...

Eve speaks almost unaware of what she says. She looks at no
one in particular, just off...

EVE
So little. So little, did you say?
Why, if there's nothing else -
there's applause. It's like - like
waves of love coming over the
footlights and wrapping you up.
Imagine...
To know, every night, that
different hundreds of people love
you... they smile, their eyes shine
- you've pleased them, they want
you, you belong. Just that alone is
worth anything...

She becomes aware of Addison's strange smile, of Bill's looks
of warm interest. She's embarrassed, she turns away - then
scrambles to her feet as Margo approaches with Lloyd from the
direction of the pantry.

Margo's had too much to drink. Her fake smile fades as Eve
gets up. She's unpleasant and depressed.

MARGO
Don't get up. And please stop
acting as if I were the queen
mother.

EVE
(hurt)
I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-

BILL
(sharply)
Outside of a beehive, Margo, your
behavior would hardly be considered
either queenly or motherly!

MARGO
You're in a beehive, pal, didn't
you know? We're all busy little
bees, full of stings, making honey
day and night-
(to Eve)
- aren't we, honey?

KAREN
Margo, really...

MARGO
Please don't play governess, Karen,
I haven't your unyielding good
taste, I wish I'd gone to Radcliffe
too but father wouldn't hear of it -
he needed help at the notions
counter...
(to Addison)
I'm being rude now, aren't I? OR
should I say "ain't I"?

ADDISON
You're maudlin and full of self
pity. You're magnificent.

Max has come up with Miss Caswell's drink.

LLOYD
How about calling it a night?

MARGO
And you pose as a playwright. A
situation pregnant with
possibilities - and all you can
think of is everybody to go to
sleep...

BILL
It's a good thought.

MARGO
It won't play.

KAREN
As a nonprofessional, I think it's
an excellent idea. Undramatic, but
practical...

As she speaks, she makes her way to Lloyd's side.

MARGO
Happy little housewife...

BILL
Cut it out.

MARGO
This is my house, not a theater! In
my house you're a guest, not a
director-!

KAREN
Then stop being a star - start
treating your guests as your
supporting cast!

ADDISON
Hear, hear...

LLOYD
Now let's not get into a big hassle-

KAREN
It's about time we did! It's about
time Margo realized that what's
attractive on stage need not
necessarily be attractive off.

MARGO
(suddenly)
All right! I'm going to bed.
(to Bill)
You be the host. It's your party.
Happy Birthday, welcome home, and
we-who-are-about-to-die-salute-you.

She starts upstairs.

BILL
Need any help?

MARGO
(pauses, smiles)
To put me to bed? Take my clothes
off, hold my head, tuck me in, turn
off the lights, tiptoe out...? eve
would. Wouldn't you, Eve?

EVE
If you'd like.

MARGO
I wouldn't like.

She goes up, exits out of sight. A pause. Miss Caswell
reaches up to take the drink out of Max's hand.

MAX
I forgot I had it.

MISS CASWELL
I didn't.

Bill gets up and goes after Margo...

ADDISON
Too bad! We'll miss the third act.
They're going to play it off stage.

Eve turns away abruptly, in sudden tears.

LLOYD
Coming?

KAREN
In a minute...

She crosses to Eve, puts an arm around her.

KAREN
You mustn't mind Margo too much,
even if I do...

EVE
But there must be some reason,
something I've done without
knowing...

KAREN
The reason is Margo and don't try
to figure it out. Einstein
couldn't.

EVE
If I thought I'd offended her, of
all people-

KAREN
Eve. I'm fond of Margo too. But I
know Margo. And every now and then
there is nothing I want to do so
much as to kick her right square in
the pants.

EVE
(smiles)
Well - if she's got to pick on
someone, I'd just as soon it was
me.

Karen smiles back. She joins Lloyd and Max.

LLOYD
Max is going to drop us...

ADDISON
I've often wondered, Max, why you
bother with a chauffeur and
limousine in New York City.

MAX
In my case it's necessary. Too many
taxi drivers write plays.

ADDISON
And too many of them are produced.

MISS CASWELL
Let's go sit by the piano.

ADDISON
You have me confused with Dan
Dailey. You go sit by the piano.
(to Eve)
And you come sit by me.
(to the others)
Good night.

They laugh, say "good night," and start downstairs. As Eve
crosses to Addison:

EVE
Karen...
(Karen pauses)
... you won't forget, will you?
What we talked about before?

For those of you who may recall your lit classes, I recommend "a modest proposal"

bad taste is what it's all about.

And in this case, for those willing to enjoy the point, one may think of the slippery slope where separation of shurch and state is denigrated, or where having one's religion worn on one's sleeve becoems important for election to public office; next comes exultation of use of 10 commandments in a public building.
Jon Stewart skewered Anthony Scalia's 'originalist' view of the constitution the same way - look up via key words in You Tube.

The invasion of Iraq has resulted in devolution to more fundamentalist religious power over the private sector but we in America are not immune.

Religious relativism live hale and hearty in sending those 13 and 14 year olds back to their breeding farms in FDLS Texas.

FOr those who do not like their lessons on the bigotry of religious fundamentalism taken with a snide dash of humor, I recommend "The Book of Ruth" - which simply lists all of the most ridiculous passages culled by an American Freethinker and author.

BTW the satiric "trading food for voter registration cards" on the "Landover Baptist" joke website is most unfortunately a practice being foisted as we speak by R. Mugabe on his starving populace.

It is unwise to presume to know the mind of God. Or to trifle with the words of God. I fall back on God's answer to Job (key points are in italics - at beginning and near end):

Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind:
2‘Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?
3Gird up your loins like a man,
I will question you, and you shall declare to me.

4‘Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?
Tell me, if you have understanding.
5Who determined its measurements—surely you know!
Or who stretched the line upon it?
6On what were its bases sunk,
or who laid its cornerstone
7when the morning stars sang together
and all the heavenly beings* shouted for joy?

8‘Or who shut in the sea with doors
when it burst out from the womb?—
9when I made the clouds its garment,
and thick darkness its swaddling band,
10and prescribed bounds for it,
and set bars and doors,
11and said, “Thus far shall you come, and no farther,
and here shall your proud waves be stopped”?

12‘Have you commanded the morning since your days began,
and caused the dawn to know its place,
13so that it might take hold of the skirts of the earth,
and the wicked be shaken out of it?
14It is changed like clay under the seal,
and it is dyed* like a garment.
15Light is withheld from the wicked,
and their uplifted arm is broken.

16‘Have you entered into the springs of the sea,
or walked in the recesses of the deep?
17Have the gates of death been revealed to you,
or have you seen the gates of deep darkness?
18Have you comprehended the expanse of the earth?
Declare, if you know all this.

19‘Where is the way to the dwelling of light,
and where is the place of darkness,
20that you may take it to its territory
and that you may discern the paths to its home?
21Surely you know, for you were born then,
and the number of your days is great!

22‘Have you entered the storehouses of the snow,
or have you seen the storehouses of the hail,
23which I have reserved for the time of trouble,
for the day of battle and war?
24What is the way to the place where the light is distributed,
or where the east wind is scattered upon the earth?

25‘Who has cut a channel for the torrents of rain,
and a way for the thunderbolt,
26to bring rain on a land where no one lives,
on the desert, which is empty of human life,
27to satisfy the waste and desolate land,
and to make the ground put forth grass?

28‘Has the rain a father,
or who has begotten the drops of dew?
29From whose womb did the ice come forth,
and who has given birth to the hoar-frost of heaven?
30The waters become hard like stone,
and the face of the deep is frozen.

31‘Can you bind the chains of the Pleiades,
or loose the cords of Orion?
32Can you lead forth the Mazzaroth in their season,
or can you guide the Bear with its children?
33Do you know the ordinances of the heavens?
Can you establish their rule on the earth?

34‘Can you lift up your voice to the clouds,
so that a flood of waters may cover you?
35Can you send forth lightnings, so that they may go
and say to you, “Here we are”?
36Who has put wisdom in the inward parts,*
or given understanding to the mind?*
37Who has the wisdom to number the clouds?
Or who can tilt the waterskins of the heavens,
38when the dust runs into a mass
and the clods cling together?

39‘Can you hunt the prey for the lion,
or satisfy the appetite of the young lions,
40when they crouch in their dens,
or lie in wait in their covert?
41Who provides for the raven its prey,
when its young ones cry to God,
and wander about for lack of food?‘Do you know when the mountain goats give birth?
Do you observe the calving of the deer?
2Can you number the months that they fulfil,
and do you know the time when they give birth,
3when they crouch to give birth to their offspring,
and are delivered of their young?
4Their young ones become strong, they grow up in the open;
they go forth, and do not return to them.

5‘Who has let the wild ass go free?
Who has loosed the bonds of the swift ass,
6to which I have given the steppe for its home,
the salt land for its dwelling-place?
7It scorns the tumult of the city;
it does not hear the shouts of the driver.
8It ranges the mountains as its pasture,
and it searches after every green thing.

9‘Is the wild ox willing to serve you?
Will it spend the night at your crib?
10Can you tie it in the furrow with ropes,
or will it harrow the valleys after you?
11Will you depend on it because its strength is great,
and will you hand over your labour to it?
12Do you have faith in it that it will return,
and bring your grain to your threshing-floor?*

13‘The ostrich’s wings flap wildly,
though its pinions lack plumage.*
14For it leaves its eggs to the earth,
and lets them be warmed on the ground,
15forgetting that a foot may crush them,
and that a wild animal may trample them.
16It deals cruelly with its young, as if they were not its own;
though its labour should be in vain, yet it has no fear;
17because God has made it forget wisdom,
and given it no share in understanding.
18When it spreads its plumes aloft,*
it laughs at the horse and its rider.

19‘Do you give the horse its might?
Do you clothe its neck with mane?
20Do you make it leap like the locust?
Its majestic snorting is terrible.
21It paws* violently, exults mightily;
it goes out to meet the weapons.
22It laughs at fear, and is not dismayed;
it does not turn back from the sword.
23Upon it rattle the quiver,
the flashing spear, and the javelin.
24With fierceness and rage it swallows the ground;
it cannot stand still at the sound of the trumpet.
25When the trumpet sounds, it says “Aha!”
From a distance it smells the battle,
the thunder of the captains, and the shouting.

26‘Is it by your wisdom that the hawk soars,
and spreads its wings towards the south?
27Is it at your command that the eagle mounts up
and makes its nest on high?
28It lives on the rock and makes its home
in the fastness of the rocky crag.
29From there it spies the prey;
its eyes see it from far away.
30Its young ones suck up blood;
and where the slain are, there it is.’

And the Lord said to Job:
2‘Shall a fault-finder contend with the Almighty?*
Anyone who argues with God must respond.’

Job’s Response to God

3Then Job answered the Lord:
4‘See, I am of small account; what shall I answer you?
I lay my hand on my mouth.
5I have spoken once, and I will not answer;
twice, but will proceed no further.’

God’s Challenge to Job

6 Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind:
7‘Gird up your loins like a man;
I will question you, and you declare to me.
8Will you even put me in the wrong?
Will you condemn me that you may be justified?
9Have you an arm like God,
and can you thunder with a voice like his?

10‘Deck yourself with majesty and dignity;
clothe yourself with glory and splendour.
11Pour out the overflowings of your anger,
and look on all who are proud, and abase them.
12Look on all who are proud, and bring them low;
tread down the wicked where they stand.
13Hide them all in the dust together;
bind their faces in the world below.*
14Then I will also acknowledge to you
that your own right hand can give you victory.

15‘Look at Behemoth,
which I made just as I made you;
it eats grass like an ox.
16Its strength is in its loins,
and its power in the muscles of its belly.
17It makes its tail stiff like a cedar;
the sinews of its thighs are knit together.
18Its bones are tubes of bronze,
its limbs like bars of iron.

19‘It is the first of the great acts of God—
only its Maker can approach it with the sword.
20For the mountains yield food for it
where all the wild animals play.
21Under the lotus plants it lies,
in the covert of the reeds and in the marsh.
22The lotus trees cover it for shade;
the willows of the wadi surround it.
23Even if the river is turbulent, it is not frightened;
it is confident though Jordan rushes against its mouth.
24Can one take it with hooks*
or pierce its nose with a snare?

‘Can you draw out Leviathan* with a fish-hook,
or press down its tongue with a cord?
2Can you put a rope in its nose,
or pierce its jaw with a hook?
3Will it make many supplications to you?
Will it speak soft words to you?
4Will it make a covenant with you
to be taken as your servant for ever?
5Will you play with it as with a bird,
or will you put it on a leash for your girls?
6Will traders bargain over it?
Will they divide it up among the merchants?
7Can you fill its skin with harpoons,
or its head with fishing-spears?
8Lay hands on it;
think of the battle; you will not do it again!
9*Any hope of capturing it* will be disappointed;
were not even the gods* overwhelmed at the sight of it?
10No one is so fierce as to dare to stir it up.
Who can stand before it?*
11Who can confront it* and be safe?*
—under the whole heaven, who?*

12‘I will not keep silence concerning its limbs,
or its mighty strength, or its splendid frame.
13Who can strip off its outer garment?
Who can penetrate its double coat of mail?*
14Who can open the doors of its face?
There is terror all around its teeth.
15Its back* is made of shields in rows,
shut up closely as with a seal.
16One is so near to another
that no air can come between them.
17They are joined one to another;
they clasp each other and cannot be separated.
18Its sneezes flash forth light,
and its eyes are like the eyelids of the dawn.
19From its mouth go flaming torches;
sparks of fire leap out.
20Out of its nostrils comes smoke,
as from a boiling pot and burning rushes.
21Its breath kindles coals,
and a flame comes out of its mouth.
22In its neck abides strength,
and terror dances before it.
23The folds of its flesh cling together;
it is firmly cast and immovable.
24Its heart is as hard as stone,
as hard as the lower millstone.
25When it raises itself up the gods are afraid;
at the crashing they are beside themselves.
26Though the sword reaches it, it does not avail,
nor does the spear, the dart, or the javelin.
27It counts iron as straw,
and bronze as rotten wood.
28The arrow cannot make it flee;
slingstones, for it, are turned to chaff.
29Clubs are counted as chaff;
it laughs at the rattle of javelins.
30Its underparts are like sharp potsherds;
it spreads itself like a threshing-sledge on the mire.
31It makes the deep boil like a pot;
it makes the sea like a pot of ointment.
32It leaves a shining wake behind it;
one would think the deep to be white-haired.
33On earth it has no equal,
a creature without fear.
34It surveys everything that is lofty;
it is king over all that are proud.’

Job Is Humbled and Satisfied

42Then Job answered the Lord:
2‘I know that you can do all things,
and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted.
3“Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge?”
Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand,
things too wonderful for me, which I did not know.
4“Hear, and I will speak;
I will question you, and you declare to me.”
5I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear,
but now my eye sees you;
6therefore I despise myself,
and repent in dust and ashes.’

This is one of the squirrelliest threads I've ever seen here.

I'll bet the sick bastards who watch South Park thought they had the market cornered on poop-sex - but it looks like God invented the "hot carl" thousands of years earlier!

Wow, Zeke! That's so cool!

Say, is there anything in the bible about the Dirty Sanchez? Now, that's something I'd like to see!

How the hell did this garbage end up on the recommended list? It's not even vaguely funny. Don't we get enough of this disgusting bullshit from people who really mean it? What's funny about saying it as a joke? Seriously, who is recommending this tripe?

Uh, I un-recommend this offensive post. Its obvi a joke but some of the sh*t they say (and have on the website) is racist in tone even as a joke. Like associating Obama's pic with free Popeye's chicken..not the best idea. In my book at least. Plus, the website is obvi mocking Christianity. Not all Christians, or Evangelical Christians are f*cking ignorant.

Nope. It was the overthrow of the monarchy that put us out of favor with the Lords, the Dukes, and Duchesses -- with, that is, royalty as a whole, including the King.

And to undesrcore that fact: rock n' roll is democratic; it cannot have a "King".

Ted Haggard is a real wacko. Watch this segment from The God Delusion with Haggard. Now that we know what we know about him, he looks positively demonistic. I love the statement "He has weekly conference calls with George W. Bush and has brushed shoulders with Tony Blair. Screwed up.

"Democracy demands that the religiously motivated translate their concerns into universal, rather than religion-specific, values. It requires that their proposals be subject to argument, and amenable to reason. I may be opposed to abortion for religious reasons, but if I seek to pass a law banning the practice, I cannot simply point to the teachings of my church or evoke God's will. I have to explain why abortion violates some principle that is accessible to people of all faiths, including those with no faith at all. Now this is going to be difficult for some who believe in the inerrancy of the Bible, as many evangelicals do. But in a pluralistic democracy, we have no choice. Politics depends on our ability to persuade each other of common aims based on a common reality. It involves the compromise, the art of what's possible. At some fundamental level, religion does not allow for compromise. It's the art of the impossible. If God has spoken, then followers are expected to live up to God's edicts, regardless of the consequences. To base one's life on such uncompromising commitments may be sublime, but to base our policy making on such commitments would be a dangerous thing. And if you doubt that, let me give you an example. We all know the story of Abraham and Isaac. Abraham is ordered by God to offer up his only son, and without argument, he takes Isaac to the mountaintop, binds him to an altar, and raises his knife, prepared to act as God has commanded. Of course, in the end God sends down an angel to intercede at the very last minute, and Abraham passes God's test of devotion. But it's fair to say that if any of us leaving this church saw Abraham on a roof of a building raising his knife, we would, at the very least, call the police and expect the Department of Children and Family Services to take Isaac away from Abraham. We would do so because we do not hear what Abraham hears, do not see what Abraham sees, true as those experiences may be. So the best we can do is act in accordance with those things that we all see, and that we all hear, be it common laws or basic reason. Finally, any reconciliation between faith and democratic pluralism requires some sense of proportion. This goes for both sides. Even those who claim the Bible's inerrancy make distinctions between Scriptural edicts, sensing that some passages - the Ten Commandments, say, or a belief in Christ's divinity - are central to Christian faith, while others are more culturally specific and may be modified to accommodate modern life."