DO YOU LIKE THEM?_____________YEAH, I KNOW. IT’S HARD TO WALK IN A PAIR OF 1,250-FOOT HIGH HEELS WHEN YOU’RE ACTUALLY WEARING BOTH OF THEM AT ONCE LIKE SOME NOT-INSANE GIANT QUEER HARBINGER OF DOOM, BUT, Y’KNOW______________WELL, DON’T YOU THINK IT LOOKS COOL? STANDING THERE, TOWERING OVER THE DEVASTATION IT’S WROUGHT IN ITS WAKE. LIKE A SLICK, GLISTENING, SEXY, SUBLIME CRIMSON MONOLITH OF FEMININE FURY LOOMING LARGE OVER THE HETERONORMATIVE, HYPERMASCULINE, HYPERCAPITALIST AMERICAN MEGALOPOLIS? ABLEIST, RACIST, SEXIST, CLASSIST, THIS QUEERPHOBIC, NEURONORMATIVE TORTURE-GARDEN OF GIANT CONCRETE-GLASS DICKS PENETRATING THE BIG, BLUE SKY, WOMAN, NUDE. I SWEAR, IF FUCKING ANITA STECKEL WERE STILL ALIVE TO SEE THIS SHIT, SHE’D BE CALLING ME THE GREATEST WOMAN ARTIST OF ALL TIME. RE-SHAPING THE GODDAMN WORLD IN HER OWN REBELLIOUSLY TENDER IMAGE BECAUSE, FOR ONCE, SHE HAD THAT POWER AND, LIKE, WHO THE FUCK WAS GONNA STOP HER? A HUNDRED MILLION TINY AMERICAN MEN AND THEIR TINY AMERICAN DICKS GOING FULL SECOND AMENDMENT ON HER ASS? FOUR THOUSAND AMERCAN NUCLEAR WARHEADS PLANTING ENRICHED URANIUM LOVEBITES ALL DOWN MY NECK? PLEASE. DON’T FLATTER YOURSELVES.____________SHE’S AN ARTIST FROM THE SIXTIES, EARLY SEVENTIES. SHE DID THIS WHOLE SERIES OF PHOTO-COLLAGES CALLED THE “GIANT WOMAN” SERIES IN, LIKE, ‘71 OR ‘72, WHERE SHE TOOK PHOTOS OF NAKED WOMEN.______________NAKED, NOT NUDE. THERE’S A DIFFERENCE. NAKED IS VISCERAL. NAKED IS WILD. UNTAMED. NAKED IS THE LIBERATED FEMALE’S CHOICE; NUDE IS THE MALE AUTEUR’S DEMAND. ANITA STECKEL TOOK PHOTOGRAPHS OF NAKED WOMEN AND SHE SUPERIMPOSED THEM, LIKE, LYING RESPLENDENT AMONG THE MANHATTAN SKYLINE, OR SWINGING SAVAGELY OFF THE EMPIRE STATE BUILDING WIELDING A PAINTBRUSH.______________I’M GONNA DO THAT A LOT. STOP ME IF YOU NEED ME TO EXPLAIN A REFERENCE OR ANYTHING, OTHERWISE THE PART OF MY BRAIN THAT’S LIKE, MEGA NEUROFUCKED IS JUST GONNA ASSUME, LIKE, YOU KNOW ALREADY.______________I COULD TALK ABOUT HER FOR HOURS. LITERALLY. AND THE WHOLE “CITYSCAPE AS PHALLIC” THING SHE TALKS ABOUT. LIKE, IT’S SO FREAKING TRUE. SKYSCRAPERS - THE EMPIRE STATE, THE CHRYSLER BUILDING, THE ROCK, THE COCK, THE TWIN TOWERS, MINORU YAMASAKI’S DOWNTOWN DOUBLE-PENETRATION - THEY’RE ALL JUST HUGE STIFF DICKS. PENISES. ERECTIONS, IF YOU WILL, TO BE CONSUMED. GUZZLED. SWALLOWED. LIPS OR LABIA. MOUTH OR__________________LIKE, LITERALLY, THERE ARE SO MANY BUILDINGS I’D WANT INSIDE ME._______________________D’YOU WANT A LIST? BECAUSE I COULD GIVE YOU A LIST. “NANCY’S COMPREHENSIVE LIST OF BUILDINGS I’D LIKE TO FUCK.” IT’S NOT LIKE I DON’T THINK ABOUT THIS SHIT LITERALLY ALL THE TIME. ______________________SURE._________________________________________I MEAN, IT’S GREAT STRESS RELIEF, FOR A START.______________I ACTUALLY CANNOT TELL YOU HOW GOOD DESTROYING CITIES IS FOR YOUR MENTAL HEALTH. THE FEELING, THE RAW, UNBRIDLED FUCK-YOU-MOTHERFUCKERS FEELING OF BREAKING DOWN INJUSTICE WITH YOUR OWN TWO BARE FUCKING HANDS. WITH THE SHEER FORMIDABLE FORCE OF YOUR OWN TITANIC BODY. YOUR ABJECT BODY. YOUR MONSTROUS BODY. FIFTY-THOUSAND FEET OF FLESH-INCARNATE ONE-WOMAN DEVIL DYKE ARMAGEDDON. THREE TRILLION TONNES OF OVERWHELMING MAD, CRIP, QUEER APOCALYPTIC SAPPHIC REBEL-GRRRRL FLESH. DIRTY FLESH. THE MESS. THE ODOUR. THE UNCLEAN STENCH. THE SMELL OF REBELLION. FILLING. FLOODING. DROWNING. POURING. WRIGGLING. WRITHING. SUCKING. FUCKING. REVOLTING FEMININE FLESH. ASPHYXIATING FOLDS. FLUIDS. SECRETIONS. BLOOD. SWEAT. LYMPH. BILE. PUS. MENSES. MILK. EXCREMENT. LUBRICANT. PISS. SHIT. SQUIRT. SMOTHER. FLOOD THE STREETS. FLOOD THE CONCRETE CANYONS OF LATE CAPITALISM. THE IVORY TOWERS OF THIS GREAT GOTHIC ISLAND CATHEDRAL OF MAMMON MANHATTAN. FLOOD MADISON, PARK, LEXINGTON, FIFTH, SIXTH, SEVENTH AVENUES. FLOOD THE SUBWAYS. THE A-TRAIN. S-EXPRESS. THICK, VISCOUS DRIZZLE TRICKLING DOWN THROUGH PITCH-BLACK SUBTERREANEAN ARTERIES. SEARING HEAT SEEPING INTO EVERY CREVICE. HEAT DEATH. HEAVEN. HELL. JUICE. LUBE. SWALLOW. SEXUAL FANTASY AS PRAXIS. METROPOLIS AS FUCK-TOY. VOLCANIC CUNT, RED HEAT, DRIP, DISSOLVE, MELT, SCORCH THE EARTH OF OPPRESSION, EVIL AND INJUSTICE. VORACIOUS HELLMOUTH, BREATHE YOUR SWEET INFERNO: ENGULF, DEVOUR, GRIND. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK AMERICA. FUCK CAPITALISM. FUCK THE WORLD. DEBRIS AS APHRODESIAC. RUBBLE AS EROGENOUS. THE PIERCING SCREAM, THE PLEASURE-MOAN. DEATH DRIVE TINTED IN EROTIC COLOUR. EXPLOSIVE PASSION. NUCLEAR PASSION. FEARSOME FURY. FIRE TRAILING TENDER FINGERTIPS DOWN MY CHEEKS. PRECIPITATING DUST-CLOUDS TINGLING ON MY SQUIRMING SKIN. THE END IS COMING.______________THE END IS COMING. CLIMAX GUSHING. RIVERS RUSHING. PLEASURE POURING FROM THIS MONUMENTAL MOUNTAINOUS FEMME, STRADDLING THIS SEVEN-MILE-LONG SHAFT FROM THE PUBIC BRONX TO THE TENDER TIP OF BATTERY PARK______________CLIMAX OF WOMAN. CLIMAX OF MAN. CLIMAX OF MANHATTAN. CLIMAX OF HUBRIS. HISTORY. HUMANITY. THE ARTIFICE OF POWER. DOMINATION. OPPRESSION. THE FINANCIAL SYSTEM. GOVERNMENT. NATIONS UNITED AND DISUNITED. BORDERS. BOUNDARIES. BINARIES. CLIMAX OF EARTH AND HER LOVER.______________THE GIANTESS BODY. AFTER MONIQUE WITTIG, 1974.______________END OF THE WORLD AS RADICAL QUEER NEO-FLUXUS PERFORMANCE. ABJECT BODY AS DOOMSDAY DEVICE. SEX AS WEAPON. EROTIC IMAGINATION AS EMOTIONAL RELEASE.____________________________IT DOES GIVE ME PLEASURE, LIKE, OF COURSE IT DOES. THE REVOLUTION CAN BE PORNOGRAPHIC, AND I WOULD ARGUE THAT MAKES IT ALL THE MORE POTENT. THERE’S SOMETHING VERY SEVENTIES ABOUT IT IN A WAY BUT, LIKE, ALSO______________THIS IS MY BODY REACTING TO ALL THE BITTER FUCKING FRUSTRATION, THE PENT-UP ANGUISH I FEEL AT THE HOPELESSNESS OF OUR CONTEMPORARY REALITY IN THE ONLY MEANINGFUL WAY IT CAN ANYMORE.______________BURNING. BURNING BEFORE THE HELPLESS EYES OF THE PACIFIED AND TRAUMATISED. THE STERILE, THE NUMB. COLLECTIVE DISOBEDIENCE, VIOLENT REVOLUTION: DELUSIONAL DREAMS. YOU CAN’T RELY ON OTHERS TO HALT THE DESCENT INTO HELL. AUTHORITARIANISM. WAR. TERMINAL INEQUITY. THIS IS THE AGE OF THE HYPERINDIVIDUAL, AND AS IN THE AGE OF THE HYPERINDIVIDUAL YOU CAN’T RELY UPON COLLECTIVE ACTION FOR SALVATION FROM THIS SHITSTORM I MADE MYSELF INTO A HYPER INDIVIDUAL CAPABLE OF INFLICTING RADICAL CHANGE NO MATTER THE COST.___________________________I THINK A LOT OF MY DESIRE TO EMBODY THE GIANT FEMININE IS ROOTED IN THE DESTRUCTION DRIVE. THE NEED TO SACRIFICE MY BODY TO PROVIDE SANCTUARY AND SAFETY FOR OTHERS. TO JUST ERASE THE TANGIBLE MEMORY OF EVERYTHING THAT WENT BEFORE US AND ALLOW HUMANITY TO START AGAIN FROM YEAR ZERO. FREED FROM THE BURDEN OF______________ARCHIVIOLITHIC. DESTRUCTION OF MEMORY. DESTRUCTION OF HISTORY. DESTRUCTION OF THE FABRIC OF HUMANITY: OF CITIES, TOWNS, INFRASTRUCTURES, TECHNOLOGIES ENSHRINING POWER IMBALANCE AND OPPRESSION. TO CLEAN THE SLATE.______________TO DESTROY MYSELF AND/OR THE ENTIRE HUMAN RACE, YES, EXACTLY, LIKE IF THAT’S WHAT IT TOOK.__________________TO EVISCERATE ALL TRACES NOT JUST OF EVIL, BUT______________IF I MUST SEE MYSELF AS TANTAMOUNT TO “MONSTER,” AS SOMETHING REVOLTINGLY INCONGRUENT WITH THE CISGENDER, HETEROSEXUAL, PATRIARCHAL, NEUROTYPICAL NORM, AND BE PERMANENTLY BEHOLDEN TO THIS PSYCHOLOGICAL TORTURE OF HAVING ABJECT DIFFERENCE IMPRINTED ONTO EVERY CELL IN MY BODY, WELL, THEN, WHY NOT EMBRACE THAT. BECOME THE FUCKING MONSTER THEY THINK YOU ARE, AND USE THAT MONSTROUSNESS TO LIBERATE THE WRETCHED OF THE EARTH.______________FUNNY, ISN’T IT. YOU THINK I’M HERE BECAUSE I WANT YOU TO TALK ME OUT OF DESTROYING YOU ONCE AND FOR ALL. NO. THAT’S NOT WHY I’M HERE. THE FATE OF OUR CONTEMPORARY CIVILISATION WAS SEALED A LONG TIME AGO. WE ARE WAY PAST THE POINT OF DEBATING WHETHER OUR CURRENT SOCIOPATHIC, RAPACIOUS, VORACIOUS, ECOCIDAL, GENOCIDAL, GREED-RIDDEN STRUCTURES OF SOCIAL, POLITICAL, ECONOMIC AND ENVIRONMENTAL DOMINATION ARE WORTH NOT SCORCHING OFF THE FACE OF MY RAVAGED LOVER EARTH.___________________THE REASON I AM HERE IS TO CONVINCE YOU THAT I’M RIGHT. THAT THIS IS COMPLETELY JUSTIFIED. MORAL, EVEN. BY THE TIME I’M DONE YOU’RE GONNA HAVE THE EXACT SAME BURNING DESIRE TO DO WHATEVER THE FUCK IS NECESSARY TO DESTROY MISOGYNY, DESTROY QUEERPHOBIA, DESTROY XENOPHOBIA AND RACISM, DESTROY ABLEISM, DESTROY SOCIAL HIERARCHY AND CAPITALISM AND ANTHROPOGENIC ECOCIDE, IN ALL THEIR FORMS.______________EVEN IF, YES.______________EVEN IF IT DID EVENTUALLY MEAN SACRIFICING YOUR OWN FLESH AND BLOOD IN THE PROCESS. EVEN IF IT EVENTUALLY BECAME EVIDENT THAT THERE WAS NO HOPE LEFT FOR THE REHABILITATION OF YOUR SPECIES, AND THE ONLY HOPE FOR OUR LOVER EARTH TO LIVE ON IS FOR HUMANKIND NOT TO.____________________________I’VE GOT, LIKE, FORTY-FIVE MORE MINUTES. LET’S DO THIS.
A note on staging
This scratch excerpt was performed alongside a set-piece I created specifically for it, of a miniature city of plaster-cast skyscrapers in the middle of which -- surrounded by a crater of plaster rubble -- one of my five-inch Pleaser high-heel boots had been implanted, as though Nancy had left it behind following her destructive rampage. Photographs of this set-piece, titled A Crush on Manhattan, can be seen on my website.
When I first performed this script in 2024, I basically stripped and pretended to have violent, aggressive, destructive sex with Manhattan Island on stage. In a meeting with the venue's Creative Director a few days afterwards, she said it was the most she had ever been shocked by a piece of theatre in years. And she meant that in the best possible way. The world of fringe theatre apparently really loves this whole giantess thing I do...
How to read this script
The Giantess Speaks (Scratch) was written in the space of a single day, during a session at Streatham Space Project’s theatre studio in south London. The text is designed to be read as one half of a dialogue between a giantess patient and a “therapist” (whose place is taken, in this case, by a literal semi-destroyed model of Midtown Manhattan), the underscored gaps in the text intended to either stand in place of the therapist’s brief, imagined interjections — which the audience never gets to hear, read, or otherwise experience — or various other breaks in the patient’s monologue caused by her thoughts trailing off mid-sentence or by her emotions getting the better of her.
As you may have noticed, the text is not written in standard prose. Inspired by my love of the avant-garde queer/feminist literature and performance art of the late 20th century, the style in which this text is written is one I developed in part for aesthetic purposes (I produce risograph poster prints of my Giantess Therapy Session performances, in which their scripts are rendered in justified typewriter-font text that perfectly fits an A3 page), in part because I believe the style really fits the cadence of a therapy patient monologuing in a counselling session, and in part due to the influence of one of this particular script's principal inspirations, name-checked in the text: The Lesbian Woman by Monique Wittig. Written in 1974, The Lesbian Woman is a list of various bodily fluids and viscera, written to disrupt the idea of a "clean" and "innocent" female body under heterosexist and patriarchal cultural norms; the "rampage" scene in the middle of this script was heavily inspired by this classic queer-feminist text.