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Fri 13
Jul 2007

Charles, Charles Filch.

Posted by dora under The Beggar's Diary

The Beggar's diary, 12.07.2007.- Now Filch gets his coffee before even asking, they see him coming in and they start preparing it. Is this home, he wonders? A place where coffee is made for you without asking? “My Home is where My Coffee is”, should he sell this as a commercial ad? He loves to think this way and leaves it at that. Do all people dream about projects knowing they will never even start them?

Anyway, today, Filch is a man with an important schedule. He will give his blood to somebody else and in return he will get food. He’s very excited! Although he is afraid they will ask his identity card (Lichtbildausweiss), which he has not, not even an address. And he even forgot his full name. Filch, is that my first name or family name? He has used this name as long as he knows.

He enters the building of the Red Cross and at the desk they ask his name. He stutters: “Charles, Charles Filch”. The woman replies she only needs his family name. “FILCH!” He sweats and is nervous. He has to fill in a questionnaire and while they test his blood via the finger, the game begins. "Do you have an ID on you?" He says no. “But then you cannot give blood”. Filch tries to make a case for the quality of his blood and his good health condition, whether he has an ID or not. But the nurse has medical arguments that Filch understands too. He goes for his last BIG argument: “I am Filch, Beggar of SPM07!” It works.
Not even half an hour later, he is already sitting in front of two salads, bread, coffee and a type of meat he cannot identify, but loves anyway.

He is troubled by the idea of not having a “Lichtbildausweiss”. He asks a lady from “Draußen!” magazine how to get one, but after some questioning, she ultimately refers to the police. "Ask them", she advises. Bold Filch says: "no problem". But of course, when the moment of truth comes and he enters the police station, he is sweating rivers.
F) H-h-hello (he stutters again)
P) How can we help you?
F) It’s about a fictitious question.
P) Yess?
F) If I did not have a passport and I was homeless, what would happen?
P) Did you lose your passport?
F) No, no sir. If!
P) Well, then you have to go the city hall and buy a new one. It takes 2 to 3 weeks.
F) But as a homeless person, I would not have money.
P) In that case, social welfare would help you out.
F) (lowering his voice) And what if I am not from Münster?
P) In that case, we would take fingerprints, ask some questions and verify with the authorities in the city where you live. If everything is correct, then you must go to the city hall where you were born.
F) I have no money for train or anything.
P) Social welfare would help you out. They can give you a train ticket. Where are you from?
F) Münster... thank you for the information, good-bye.

And Filch takes off. He is puzzled: would it really happen the way the friendly police officer said?
He wanders around the city with this question and hopes nobody will arrest him for not having an ID card. He sees three women on a bike with the SPM07 map. This is well-known territory for Filch and he walks towards them. “How can I help you?” he asks, exuding self-confidence. “Are you looking for a sculpture?” A woman answers, “I think we just found it”, looking at him. “How do they know”, he thinks, “that I am The Beggar?” But they mean sculpture 20, and of course they will not pay him for that. He insists he has more valuable information but she says: “We know where to find you, if we need it.” He shouts, while they are biking away: “NO, I will find you!” and it really sounds like a curse. Is he confirming now the rumors that put him in relation to witchcraft?

He walks on, and he notices a little boy crying, must be 2 years old. 10 meters away are his mum and sister. The boy does not want to go with them. Filch wants to help, and tries to take his little hand and lead him to his mother. The boy doesn’t like that, shakes off his hand and instead turns around with crying eyes, holding on Filch’s leg, hugging it with tears. Filch is nailed to the ground, cannot move. If they are right about this “touching The Beggar brings good luck”, then this boy is blessed.

PS: inside information only for the readers of this blog:
Not all the sculptures in the city are from “real” artists (so it is said by someone), the one on the picture below is constantly on the go from one spot to another, as the artist is afraid it will be confiscated, and no one knows if it is a man or a woman who made the sculpture. Filch thinks it is a man because of the “leprechaun”. He is very curious!

Sat 14
Jul 2007

We are only telling the

Posted by anonymous user

We are only telling the truth, the only fiction is the character we have created, and the differences of style have mainly to do with the different actors AND certainly the different languages. And probably because the city starts to recognize Filch and as such the narrative creates its own dynamics and the "I" is less present.
Thanks for your kind words.

Fri 13
Jul 2007

Besser später als nie -

Posted by anonymous user

Besser später als nie - beruhige ich meinen Schrecken, dass ich ERST JETZT die Skulptur 06 wahrnehme. Eine göttliche Lektüre! Allerherzlichsten Gruß an die wunderbare Schreibfeder of "The Beggar's Opera" !!!
Wer schreibt eigentlich diese Texte? Der jeweilige Filch scheint die ganze Zeit unter Volk zu stecken. Die Regisseurin?
Ich frage mich auch, wie sich der Report vom Tagesgeschehen und die "künstlerische Freiheit" der Schreibfeder den Raum hier teilen. Der Schauspieler - in ersten Texten noch stark präsent - kommt kaum noch zu Wort. Ein anonymer Erzähler berichtet aus dem Kopf der Filchrolle heraus, ohne eine Ich-Maske anzulegen. Lese ich hier vorwiegend fiktive Literatur oder einen wirklichen Ereignisbericht von ..? Ja, von wem - Filch ist ja reine Fiktion ... Verdammt noch mal! Realität ist nur das auf der Straße improvisierte Theater mit - zum Teil nicht eingeweihten - Statisten ohne Rollenvorgaben.
Morgen will ich mal gerne unter ihnen sein und hoffe, gute Chancen beim Glück zu erbaggern. Vielleicht, vielleicht ... Ein Tauschobjekt habe ich bereits ausgesucht. Und wenn wir uns doch nicht über den Weg laufen sollten, wünsche ich dem / den brillianten Bettler/n all-fältigen Gewinn !!!