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Although it has yet to receive a full production, Montana Dreaming has already caused something of a stir in theatre circles. In its several staged readings at the Dramatists Guild, it received both national and international publicity, including perhaps most notably excerpts from the reading together with an interview with the author being aired on National Public Radio—provided you have RealPlayer and are willing to wait a few seconds for this process to begin, you can hear this interview at this time

While several theatres expressed interest in the play, that interest largely evaporated when the trial came to an anti-climactic ending on the very same day that interest in Monica and the President first exploded in this country. Specific factors both in overall American realities and in the Unabomber case in particular lead me to believe that this lapse in interest may be temporary, which is one reason I am including two scenes from the play on this site.

Which leads me to ask the question some of you may already be asking—and to provide answers to it:

The first answer could not possibly be more straightforward. The author quite genuinely believes that the Unabomber may yet turn out to be one of the most important figures of our era (which of course does not, even for an instant, indicate that he approves of the man's very real crimes). As you can discover from other pages on this site, the author was one of the prime movers of the 'Sixties in three different countries where he served both as a leader and journalist. He believes that Ted Kaczynski embodies the original energy of that era in many ways—as recent news from Seattle also ought to show. In some instructions for the actors of Montana Dreaming, he described some of the ways the Unabomber may have been influenced by the values of the 'Sixties (you can see those instructions by clicking

The causes that shaped the 'Sixties—Vietnam, racial and sexual equality, drugs, rock and roll, and the others—have either vanished altogether or have come to furnish the every-day background of our lives. But there is at least one other cause that still possesses comparable urgency and vibrancy: the almost certain prospect that our contempt for ecology and the environment, combined with unceasing population growth and never-ending industrial and technological expansion, will sooner or later bring this planet and all its inhabitants to a climax totally outstripping the imagination of mere Armageddons by our most rabid fantasists.

But even if this is true—the answer returns almost as surely as an echo—supposing this is indeed the case, what can anyone really do about it? There are two answers to this question. At a very minimum we need to be aware that this may indeed be the path we have embarked upon—with such awareness perhaps we will be able to reflect more clearly on human goals and come up with more useful solutions, though perhaps only partial ones. But if no general awareness of this problem arises soon on a world-wide scale, then there is obviously no answer at all.

The second answer has been provided by the Unabomber. If human beings wish to go on ignoring the issue—if they want to blithely continue boasting about the Dow and our latest industrial "triumphs"—then it becomes reasonable, at least for some people, to take extreme measures to bring this matter back to public attention. This is not the path I have chosen, nor do I recommend it to others. What I have done in my own situation as a playwright has been to write a play about the Unabomber.

What we are dealing with is not simply "The Emperor's New Clothes," but in fact "The Emperor's New Planet," whether or not we can choose to become aware of it. In this scenario it not a mere emperor but the entire planet that will be revealed as barren and naked.

The matter of the Unabomber's trial also deserves some attention, though I have only been able to address this partially in the play. In addition to a classic tale of terrorism, we also have a classic tale of justice miscarried, as those few who followed the trial closely enough are likely to agree. In a very real sense, Ted Kaczinski was "framed" by this trial as surely as if he had been innocent (which I do not believe he was). From the very beginning his attorneys simply assumed that he must be insane, or at least that the only defense that could spare him the death penalty was to assume that he was insane. They therefore went against their own client's clearly expressed wishes that such a defense must not be used. And in addition to denying him the defense of his choice, they also denied him the attorney of his choice. The entire trial may yet be overruled on either of these grounds.

His attorneys did this to spare their client's life—it may be the first case on record of "miscarriage by compassion." But like a true Dostoyevskian hero, Ted Kaczynski was not afraid of death, and even today he so far remains willing to face the death penalty in a new trial. What he wanted to do was to present to the court the enormous weight of evidence that the forces he felt he was opposing were far more dangerous to life on this planet than his own acts of private violence.

But where, you may ask, even assuming I am right, are all the voices of anger and protest over such a trial? That is a rather good question. For all the zeal of the Chomskians in picking up controversial causes with a press censorship angle, they have not come anywhere near this case, perhaps because they have a pro-technology axe to grind and receive much of their funding from other friends of technology. And even the good people at Fairness and Accuracy in Reporting (FAIR) have so far kept their distance. For the time being these voices of protest are muted and belong to only a few of us: the attorney Michael Mello, the publisher Beau Friedlander, the neo-Luddite Kirkpatrick Sale, anarchists like Lydia Eccles and John Zerzan, and a small group of the committed clinging to messages on an Internet newsgroup. Most of those still active in protest are busy working away at the old causes left over from the 'Sixties—racism, sexism, family planning, gay rights, all quite fashionably p.c. by now—and are unable to respond to an issue of this enormity.

At present (March, 2000) an appeal may be pending, though perhaps nothing will come of it. But the issue will not go away. Its forces are growing, as the news from Seattle has forewarned us, and may one day confront us in a manner we cannot ignore. That day will also belong to the Unabomber.

Five Characters: 3 men, 2 women

One Set, Two Acts

The action takes place at an isolated cabin in Montana during the recent past, interspersed with scenes looking both back and forward. Mike and Carol, an engaged couple driving east in their camper from California, have descended unannounced upon MIKE's brother LARRY, who lives alone in the cabin. They are concerned about his hermit ways and want to see for themselves what kind of life he is leading. Carol and Larry had been lovers years earlier, and all three had received advanced degrees in technology from a major American university just before the tumult of the 'Sixties led them to choose between becoming social activists or dropouts. Both Mike and Carol try to reason with Larry and persuade him to rejoin society, but they discover that his individualist stance and principles of 'Sixties purity have gone too far. They are alarmed by the tenacity of his opinions, his overall mental state, and the dangerous explosive experiments he seems to be conducting. In a series of interviews with Mike by an Examiner, we learn that these experiments may have impinged on society in a major way.

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This work was inspired by highly publicized events in the Unabomber story, but elements of fiction abound, including fully intentional references to other real or threatened acts of terrorism (i.e., the Oklahoma bombing and the Japanese nerve gas attacks). No real attempt has been made to "documentarize" Unabomber aspects—rather, the aim has been to broaden and humanize such a story and place it within a larger historical context while certainly not condoning any form of terrorism. Human beings have an abiding interest in such figures as Jack the Ripper, Bluebeard, and the Marquis de Sade, and the figure of the Unabomber may well be on the same level—people justifiably want to know what such people are like and what makes them tick.

Montana Dreaming is represented by the Elisabeth Marton Agency, 1 Union Square West, Room 612, New York, NY 10003-3303, TEL: (212) 255-1908, FAX: (212) 691-9061.

MIKE: God, this place is a mess! How did you ever fit all this stuff in here. I mean, you were never neat, (moves towards work area)
but...anyway, you still keep all your tools in order.

LARRY: Well, I need them for my work.

MIKE: (starts to look at equipment)
My god, you've got the whole works here—chemistry, biology, hydraulics, you name it...

LARRY: You know me, Mike. I'm a generalist. I've always been a generalist. That's why I could never hack it at Stanford.

MIKE: (looking more closely)
Hey, what the hell is this?

(picks up bottle)
Malathion...hey, what's this doing here? This is pesticide...!

LARRY: Sure, I know what it is.

MIKE: This is industrial strength pesticide! It's just one step below Sarin. This stuff is almost nerve gas!

LARRY: I know exactly what it is.

MIKE: But you're organic! You've always been even more organic than me! What's this stuff doing here?

LARRY: That's easy, Mike. I'm running an experiment. I don't trust any of the official statistics, so I've got to run my own tests.

MIKE: What kind of tests?

LARRY: I have to determine precisely how much of this stuff it takes to do the job. It's not just insects. I need to know how much it takes to kill an animal or cripple its nervous system, I also need to measure how much residue it leaves behind.

MIKE: Yeah, well I thought that sort of stuff was in books...

LARRY: It is...but I don't trust them. We both know how phoney science can get, Mike.

MIKE: Wait a second. That's why you've plugged up all the openings in the barn, am I right?

LARRY: Exactly. I have to run controlled experiments.

MIKE: Damn shame. It's a beautiful old barn. Remember when we lived there, while we were building the cabin together...?

LARRY: How could I forget?

MIKE: I have to admit, that was a good time.

LARRY: Yeah. It was okay.

MIKE: You know, I always told you, we should have just converted the barn and lived there.

LARRY: Yeah, but I told you even then, I needed the barn for experiments. That's why we had to build the cabin. Now you see I'm right.

MIKE: Well, okay, maybe....

LARRY: I am right: I'm really putting the barn to use now. It works just fine.

MIKE: Okay, I won't argue.

(continues to look through Larry's equipment)

MIKE: (picks up a petri dish)
Hey, what's all this stuff for? Since when are you growing cultures? Why do you need this?

LARRY: It's another experiment I'm going to run. Haven't had the time yet. But should be soon.

MIKE: What sort of experiment?

LARRY: I just want to grow myself some bugs.

MIKE: What kind of bugs?

LARRY: Any kind of bugs. Germs in the water, stuff from animals, you know, germs on lice, ticks, nose snot, all that stuff. See what I get.

MIKE: Hey, you know that stuff's dangerous—you have to take all kinds of precautions...

LARRY: I can take care of myself. Anyway, I haven't started yet.

MIKE: But what's the point of it?

LARRY: Same as the other. Reliable data. Hands-on experience. I can only get that by doing it myself. You know as well as I do—there's stuff you just can't learn from books.

MIKE: Larry, can you help me out a little...?

LARRY: What do you mean, help you out?

MIKE: I just don't get it. What's the point of living out here at the end of nowhere and saying you're a hermit if you're still trying to do science that you'd be better off doing in a laboratory...?

LARRY: You know as well as I do. I can't do this kind of science in a laboratory. You've got a dozen lab supervisors, five professors, and twenty grad students hanging over you...

MIKE: Yeah, but you've also got lots more equipment and plenty of assistants if you need them...

LARRY: I don't need any assistants! What I need to do, I can do for myself. And what I need to know, I can find out for myself.

MIKE: But what's the point of doing it just for yourself? How are you going to publish any of your findings out here? How are you going to come in contact with anyone else in the field?

LARRY: I don't want to publish anything, Mike. That's the whole point, I don't want to be in contact with anyone else...

MIKE: Well, I guess there's no point in my sticking around then...

LARRY: Face it, that's the truth. You're the only one I want to tell any of this... And I'm not so sure I really want to tell you...

MIKE: So now you're keeping secrets from me...?

LARRY: Mike, I have no secrets.

MIKE: Are you sure, Larry?

LARRY: I'm telling you, I have no secrets.

MIKE: Well, I was hoping for a slightly warmer welcome...

LARRY: I'm sorry, Mike...

MIKE: I'm sorry too...

LARRY: Look, you don't have to go right away...let me pour you some more tea...

(Does so. MIKE takes tea, moves downstage, looks at Agway bags)

I mean, if I ever did want to publish, assuming I succeed in putting my ideas together, I'd probably be able to find a way to do it.

MIKE: Now hold it, this is too much. First you're playing with insecticide, then you're busy culturing every kind of germ there is, and now you're actually using fertilizer...

LARRY: No, Mike, that's not it.

MIKE: Come on, this is fertilizer, Larry! What kind of organic gardener are you anyway?

LARRY: Don't be taken in by appearances...

MIKE: What appearances? It's sitting right there!

LARRY: It's just another experiment. You know, standard double blind. I plant one row of carrots using the fertilizer and another without it.

MIKE: But that's not double blind. You know which row you put the fertilizer in, don't you?

LARRY: No, I don't. I put the fertilizer in one bag and some soil in the other. I tie them up and shuffle them.

MIKE: Aw, come on. The weight's different, and you can tell from the color when you put it on the seeds.

LARRY: I don't look.

MIKE: What do you mean, you don't look. You call that science? You call that rigorous? What kind of double blind is that?

LARRY: I'm telling you, I simply do not look. And the experiment works just fine. Anyway, I'm doing it over next year just to make sure.

(MIKE sees metal drum, goes over to it, unscrews top, holds it up to his nose and smells it)

MIKE: My god, you've even got a whole barrel of gasoline. Why the hell does somebody who rides a bicycle all the time need gasoline?

LARRY: I told you, Mike, I'm experimenting with the chemical nature of noxious substances. I can't experiment with them if I don't have them, can I?

MIKE: Now hold on: which are you working with? Pesticides, infectious germs, or gasoline? Which is it?

LARRY: It's all the same. I'm working with all of them.

MIKE: But what the hell are you doing?

LARRY: I told you what I'm doing!

MIKE: But which one is it!?

LARRY: I told you—all of them. It takes a lot of time.

MIKE: I bet it does.

LARRY: Of course it does. It's going to take a lot more time before I can reach any final conclusions. Look, why don't you come here and sit down. There's some soup left.

MIKE: I'll be there in a minute. Let's see how all your roots are doing.

LARRY: Don't open that!

MIKE: Why not?
(Mike opens the root cellar door and peers down inside)
Looks good.

(Mike is about to close it)
Wait a second, what's this?

(he reaches in and pulls out the white pipe Larry had put there at the beginning of the play. It appears to have some wires attached. The root cellar door falls closed.)

LARRY: What's what?

MIKE: Come on, Larry. You know what this is. Tell me about it.

LARRY: Tell you what about what?

MIKE: Larry, you and I both know exactly what this is. Please explain it to me.

LARRY: Why should I?

MIKE: Larry, this is one thing and one thing only. It is a bomb. Do I make myself clear?

LARRY: Yeah, sure.

MIKE: Precisely why are you building this bomb?

LARRY: It's an experiment, Mike. Damn it, I told you, it's all an experiment.

MIKE: So this is why you have the fertilizer and the gasoline...

LARRY: I have perfectly good reasons for building...

MIKE: Larry, may I remind you exactly what it is that bombs do? They cause explosions, they kill people.

LARRY: Do you think I don't know that?

MIKE: To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure what you know and don't know any more.

LARRY: (erupting)
Yes, of course it's a bomb. And of course bombs explode and kill people. But if you want to see what's really killing people, go and look at any factory, look at any major industrial plant, look at any nuclear power station.

MIKE: Oh, come on.

LARRY: Yes, they're the ones causing the real explosions, they're the ones who are really murdering people. And not just a few at a time either, but wholesale, long-term, never-ending, by the millions...

MIKE: Okay, so maybe you're right in your way...

LARRY: No, I'm not right in my way. You're wrong in your way.

MIKE: Oh, stop it!

LARRY: People see an explosion from a bomb or a fire cracker, it goes boom, bang, crash, they say, wow, that's really powerful, see how fast it happened and what a big noise it made...

MIKE: Yes, and they're right.

LARRY: No, Mike, they're wrong. The real explosions are the ones that move so slowly that they go on forever, that they never stop reaching out and destroying people, they're so powerful that they don't even have to make any noise...

MIKE: Larry, I'm not asking you about that...

LARRY: Yes, you are...you don't understand where the real destruction is coming from...

MIKE: Look, I'm not even arguing with you...

LARRY: You've forgotten everything I taught you...

MIKE: No, I haven't...anyway, that's not the point.

LARRY: Yes, it is the point!

MIKE: I'm just trying to ask you one thing...

LARRY: It is the point!

MIKE: Please, I just want you to tell me, why do you have this bomb here? Why are you building it?

LARRY: I already told you. It's an experiment. I want to measure the coefficient of expansion in contained shapes and spaces of various sizes. And also out of doors. I do most of it out of doors.

MIKE: But the gas and the germs you do inside the barn, is that right?

LARRY: Yes, that's it. That's all there is to it.

MIKE: And you put animals inside. And you kill them.

LARRY: They don't all die. I take care of the ones that survive.

MIKE: I'm sure they're very grateful.

LARRY: At least I don't eat them!

MIKE: And that's why you have the bomb...you're just making measurements.

LARRY: Of course it is! (strong reaction)
Jesus, Mike!

MIKE: I was just asking.

LARRY: Yes, but you were saying...

MIKE: No, I wasn't...

LARRY: But that's what you were implying. No, no, no, Mike, I wouldn't dream of such a thing.

MIKE: I'm sorry, Larry...

CAROL: I was only thinking...you see, we're heading east.

LARRY: Mike told me. Lots of luck to you.

CAROL: You know, Larry, we were wondering, you know, maybe you'd like to come with us.

LARRY: Please, Carol. That's crazy.

CAROL: No, it isn't.

LARRY: Yes, it is. It's absolutely crazy.

CAROL: Well, alright. But that's what we were thinking.

LARRY: Did Mike put you up to this?

CAROL: No, he did not. It was my idea as much as his. I mean, I know how concerned he is about you. And I feel the same way.

LARRY: Yes, but I can't just uproot myself like that. It's mid-July. All my vegetables are just coming up. Besides, I have my experiments to finish.

CAROL: We didn't expect you'd go wild for the idea. It's just something you should keep in mind.

LARRY: Alright, but...

CAROL: I mean, if you were willing to come east, we might be able to look out for you a little...

LARRY: How would you look out for me?

CAROL: You know, maybe we could sort of get you recycled back into living with people.

LARRY: No, that's what I don't want.

CAROL: What is?

LARRY: I don't want to live with people. Period.

CAROL: But that's something you could get over...

LARRY: I don't want to get over it. Anyway, you said you and Mike are getting married...how could I live with you?
(approaches her)

Don't you think I remember...?

CAROL: Please, Larry...

LARRY: I mean, what if...you know...we couldn't...

CAROL: No, we couldn't...but there are still ways Mike and I could help you...

LARRY: Carol, that's a crazy idea...you know it wouldn't work.

CAROL: Well, there could be some problems. But we could make it work anyway.

LARRY: Well if that's your idea, please don't waste any more of your time. And tell Mike not to waste any of his.

CAROL: But we're not wasting our time, Larry. We really wanted to see you.

LARRY: Yeah, well okay, you've seen me. I'm not pushing you out. You can stay a little longer if you want.

CAROL: How long is a little longer?

LARRY: Oh, come on, use your common sense.

CAROL: We have the camper outside. We could stay for a day or two.

LARRY: No. That's more than a little longer.
(Beat)

CAROL: Oh, Larry, why can't you understand? Be reasonable, what can you really do for yourself here?

LARRY: Damn it, Carol, what do you have against this town? What do you have against the way I live?

CAROL: Don't you see, you'll never be able to do anything important.

LARRY: I may not define the word "important" the same way as you.

CAROL: But you can never grow here, you can never amount to anything.

LARRY: That's simply not true. You've just got a lot of big city prejudices about small towns.

CAROL: Yes, like they're small. Like there's nothing in them.

LARRY: That's simply not true. There's a library and a bookstore in town. I can get anything I really need from them.

CAROL: Yes, but they're tiny, they have no resources.

LARRY: They can order things for me. There's nothing I really need that I can't get.

CAROL: But you can't be with people...

LARRY: I don't want people!

CAROL: Yeah...but what if you need to find out what's really going on?

LARRY: Stop it, Carol. If I'm desperate, I can always take the bus over to the capital. If I want to, I can travel even further ...

CAROL: Oh, then you do travel, after all...well, I guess I can't blame you. If you're going to insist on living in this god-forsaken place...

LARRY: Now hold on. Whatever else you may think, Carol, this place is definitely not god-forsaken. I can't think of a less god-forsaken place on the face of the earth. This place is absolutely blessed.

CAROL: How is it blessed? It's wilderness, nothing but wilderness all around here.

LARRY: You're even wrong about that. If you want to see real wilderness, come up here sometime when the snow starts to fall, and I'll show you real wilderness. Just make sure you bring a real heavy sleeping bag.

CAROL: Well, maybe I'll take you up on that. One day.

LARRY: Carol, can you just get it through your head that I live a totally complete existence? Here you come bouncing back into my life again and think you have the right to tell me how I should be living it.

CAROL: But I'm not...

LARRY: I have no real need for that outside world you both find so important. To me, the most wonderful thing in the world is the change of seasons.

CAROL: Yes, they do have those in other places too.

LARRY: Not the way we have them here. I told you, you can't imagine what it's like here in winter.

CAROL: Larry, I don't mean to turn down your invitation, but I'm not sure I want to find out either. I mean, after all, you're not here because you have anything to hide...

LARRY: That's a silly idea. I have nothing to hide. That's just what I'm not doing. I'm not hiding anything, what I'm doing is discovering...

CAROL: Discovering what?

LARRY: What it is to be me, what it is to be human...If it's progress we're after, we're just not going to get there by living our lives the way we always have...

CAROL: But what other way is there?

LARRY: That's what I'm looking for! That's what we all have to look for if this planet is going to survive. There's no other way!

CAROL: Larry...you're exaggerating.

LARRY: I am not exaggerating. There's only one place you can be if you care about these things. And that's right here.

CAROL: But what can you do here? What can you accomplish?

LARRY: I can accomplish being myself, that's what I can do.

LARRY: Anyway, why are you so suspicious about everything I do? Why do you keep asking me all these questions?