Tim Minchin’s Storm the Animated Movie


[RAIN AND THUNDER] ♪♪ Inner North London,
top floor flat, All white walls,
white carpet, white cat, Rice paper partitions,
Modern art and ambition. The host’s a physician,
Bright bloke, has his own practice,
His girlfriend’s an actress An old mate of
ours from home And they’re always great fun
so to dinner we’ve come. The fifth guest
is an unknown, The hosts have just thrown
us together as a favour Cos this girl’s just
arrived from Australia And she’s moved
to North London And she’s the sister of someone
or has some connection. As we make introductions
I’m struck by her beauty, She’s irrefutabley fair with
dark eyes and dark hair, But as she sits I admit
I’m a little bit wary Cos I notice the tip of
the wing of a fairy tatooed on that popular area
just above the derriere And when she says
“I’m Sagittarian” I confess a pigeonhole
starts to form And is immediately
filled with pigeon when she says
her name is Storm. Conversation is initially
bright and light-hearted But it’s not long before
Storm gets started: “You can’t know anything,
Knowledge is merely opinion”, She opines, over
her Cabernet Sauvignon Vis-a-vis Some unhippily
Empirical comment made by me. “Not a good start”,
I think. We’re only on pre-dinner
drinks and across the room My wife widens her
eyes, silently begs me, “Be nice” – A matrimonial
warning Not worth ignoring, So I resist the
urge to ask Storm whether knowledge is so
loose-weave of a morning when deciding whether
to leave her apartment by the front door or the
window on the second floor. The food is delicious
and Storm whilst avoiding all meat
happily sits and eats as the good doctor –
slightly pissedly – Holds court on some
anachronistic aspect
of medical history When Storm suddenly insists, “But the human
body is a mystery! “Science just
falls in a hole “When it tries to explain
the nature of the soul.” My hostess
throws me a glance – she, like my wife,
knows there’s a chance I’ll be off on one of
my rare but fun rants, But I shan’t.
My lips are sealed. I just want to
enjoy my meal. And although Storm is
starting to get my goat, I have no intention
of rocking the boat Although it’s becoming
a bit of a wrestle Because – like her
meteorological namesake Storm has no such
concerns for our vessel: “Pharmaceutical
companies are the enemy, “They promote
drug dependency “At the cost of the
natural remedies “That are all
our bodies need. “They are immoral
and driven by greed. “Why take drugs when
herbs can solve it? “Why use chemicals
when homeopathic
solvents can resolve it? I think it’s time
we all returned to live with natural
medical alternatives.” And try as I like,
a small crack appears In my diplomacy dike. “By definition”, I begin
“Alternative Medicine”, I continue “Has either
not been proved to work, “Or been proved
not to work. “Do you know what they
call alternative medicine “that’s been
proved to work? “Medicine.” “So you don’t believe in
any natural remedies?” “On the contrary,
Storm, actually before I came to
tea I took a remedy derived from the bark
of a Willow tree, a painkiller that’s
virtually side-effect free. It’s got a weird name: Darling, what was it again? Maspirin?
Baspirin? Oh yes, Aspirin! Which I paid
about a buck for Down at the
local drugstore.” The debate briefly abates as
our hosts collects plates, But as they return with
desserts Storm pertly asserts, “Shakespeare
said it first: “There are more things
in Heaven and Earth “than exist in
your philosophy.” Science is just how we’re
trained to look at reality. It doesn’t explain
love or spirituality. How does science
explain psychics? Auras?
The afterlife? The power of prayer?” I’m becoming
aware that I’m staring, I’m like a rabbit
suddenly trapped In the blinding
headlights of vacuous crap. Maybe it’s the Hamlet
she just misquothed Or the sixth glass of
wine I just quaffed But my diplomacy dike groans
And the arsehole held back by its stones can be
held back no more. “Look , Storm, I don’t
mean to bore ya But there’s no such
thing as an aura. Reading auras is
like reading minds Or tea leaves or star
signs or meridian lines These people aren’t
plying a skill, They’re either
lying or mentally ill. Same goes for those who
claim to hear God’s demands or spiritual healers who
think they have magic hands. By the way, Why is it OK
For people to pretend they can talk
to the dead? Is it not totally
fucked in the head Lying to some crying woman
whose child has died And telling her you’re in
touch with the other side? I think that’s
fundamentally sick. Do we need to clarify here That there’s no such
thing as a psychic? What, are we fucking two? Do we actually think
that Horton Heard a Who? Do we still think that
Santa brings us gifts? That Michael Jackson
didn’t have facelifts? Are we still so stunned
by circus tricks That we think that the dead
would wanna talk to pricks like John Edward?” Storm to her credit,
despite my derision keeps firing off clichés
with startling precision, like a sniper using
bollocks for ammunition. “You’re so sure
of your position But you’re just
closed-minded. I think you’ll find that your
faith in science and tests is just as blind as the
faith of any fundamentalist” “Wow, that’s a good point,
let me think for a bit; Oh wait, my mistake,
That’s absolute bullshit. Science adjusts its views
based on what’s observed. Faith is the
denial of observation so that belief
can be preserved. If you show me that,
say, Homeopathy works, then I will
change my mind, I’ll spin on a
fucking dime, I’ll be
embarrassed as hell, but I will run through
the streets yelling, “It’s a miracle!
Take physics and bin it! Water has memory!
And while its memory of a long lost drop of
onion juice seems infinite it somehow forgets all
the poo it’s had in it!’ You show me that it
works and how it works and when I’ve recovered
from the shock, I will take a compass
and carve ‘fancy that’ on the side of my cock.” Everyone’s just staring
now, but I’m pretty pissed and I’ve dug this far down,
so I figure, in for penny, in for a pound. “Life is full of
mysteries, yeah, but there are
answers out there. And they won’t be found
by people sitting around looking serious and saying,
‘Isn’t life mysterious? Let’s sit here and hope! Let’s call up
the fucking Pope! Let’s go watch Oprah
Interview Deepak Chopra!’ If you’re going
to watch telly, you should watch Scooby Doo.
That show was so cool, because every time there
was a church with a ghoul or a ghost in a school, they looked beneath the
mask and what was inside? The fucking janitor or the
dude who runs the waterslide! Because throughout history
every mystery ever solved has turned out
to be Not Magic. Does the idea that
there might be knowledge frighten you? Does the idea
that one afternoon on Wiki-fucking-pedia
might enlighten you frighten you? Does the notion that there
may not be a supernatural so blow your hippy noodle
that you would rather just stand in the fog of
your inability to Google? Isn’t this enough? Just this world? Just this
beautiful, complex, wonderfully unfathomable
natural world? How does it so fail to
hold our attention that we have to diminish it
with the invention of cheap, man-made myths
and monsters? If you’re so into Shakespeare
Lend me your ear: ‘To gild refined gold,
to paint the lily, to throw perfume
on the violet… is just fucking silly.’
Or something like that. Or what about Satchmo? ‘I see trees of green,
Red roses too’ And fine, if you
wish to glorify Krishna and Vishnu In a
post-colonial, condescending, bottled-up and
labeled kind of way, Then whatever,
that’s ok. But here’s what
gives me a hard-on: I am a tiny, insignificant,
ignorant bit of carbon. I have one life, and it
is short and unimportant, but thanks to recent
scientific advances, I get to live
twice as long as my great great great
great uncleses and auntses. Twice as long to
live this life of mine. Twice as long to
love this wife of mine. Twice as many years
of friends and wine, Of sharing curries
and getting shitty at good-looking hippies
with fairies on their spines and butterflies
on their titties. And if perchance
I have offended, think but this and
all is mended: We’d as well be 10
minutes back in time, for all the chance you’ll
change your mind.” ♪♪

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