I'm looking to have someone with an interesting accent or some other mannerisms of speech to record themselves reading a few paragraphs I have written, so I can create a Godspeed You! Black Emperor-style song over the recording. The little story is actually an extremely lucid dream I had once and it involves a "soothing and sophisticated Jane Eyre-like British voice", so a female with that sort of accent might be ideal, but really anyone could work.
Aside from "soothing and sophisticated", I imagine it being light and airy, maybe even ethereal somehow. That's just one possible direction however. If you have your own, please go with it. I'm sure I will add a ton of effects afterwards to mess with it. That being said, the audio quality of the recording doesn't matter at all to me; recording into a crappy computer mic would be just fine.
Let me know if you're interested. Here's the script:
As if watching a documentary: a scientist with large thick-rimmed glasses passionately explains his work. Some new biological development that allows a species to assimilate social behavior reminiscent of humans'. The idea being that the subject population will bear young more fruitfully, actively teaching the new generation, as only humans do, thereby bringing about a renaissance within the animals' society. The scientist explains that population growth is expected, and in fact has already been demonstrated in previous testing. He begins to tear up and then cry outwardly as he confesses that the goal of the research now at hand is to move the population out of the lab setting and into a wild environment. It is certain, the scientist purports, that the population will collapse. To fall back in balance with nature will mean the culling of a majority of individuals, their advanced social and perceptual skills useless in the face of limited resources and ensuing starvation. Useless that is, except for the individuals to grasp with fuller and keener understanding the stark gravity of their impending demise.
The documentary now switches to a pair of these individuals, monkeys, something similar to tamarins, with soft, faintly iridescent, dark-grey fur, a great furrow of which encircles their faces, to the extent that their heads resemble small satellite dishes. One, a female, holds the other's head, face not visible, in her lap and idly runs her hands through its furrow. The surroundings of the pair are dark, that is black, and filled with a-geometric shapes. They are seen through a glass globe of some kind, perhaps the confines of their laboratory holding, or perhaps the screen through which i watch the documentary, for by this point a more first-person stance has begun to coalesce. More and more, there is an i to speak of, separate from the monkeys, superior to them in that they are unaware of me, they are subjects, of science, of documentation, and of my interest.
As she (it?) strokes the other, she muses, head cocked lazily at a slight angle, eyes drifting to the places of which she speaks. For speak she does; the scientist's research, it is apparent, was able to transcend the language barrier between species, though whether the monkey is articulating in human dialect or merely chattering it is not clear as the documentary has dubbed over her speech with a soothing and sophisticated, Jane Eyre-like British voice. She is being asked about her upcoming transition. She seems to regard it as a great leap forward, a place where she can set down roots and begin a life better suited to the consciousness which she has been bestowed.
Outside of the globe, another female. Though I am riveted to the documentary, through my peripheral i become aware of this human, supple her flesh and immaculate of form. And a hand then on my own flesh; of the body to whose constituency it belongs i gain with each moment a greater awareness.
The monkey is losing herself within her own wandering, peaceful thoughts, speaking (or chattering) no longer in communion with the camera, forgetful now of her position as the subject of an interview, musing to herself about the bright future and the city, as she seems to fancy it, to which she'll be going.
Breathing upon my ear, for now i have an ear, soft lips that kiss and a gentle sluice of wind tantalize my conscious mind.
The monkey begins to trail off, chattering now only intermittently, though Jane Eyre translates still faithfully, "somewhere... I can learn..."
The globe begins to lose existence.
"...how to find a real man..."
The black amorphous shapes on which the monkeys are perched begin to gain more substance.
"...a real man..."
The grey of the monkeys' fur seems to be of the same substance.
"...a real man..."
In a final juxtaposition, the grey and black slide into focus and reveal themselves to be the ripples and furrows of my bed sheets. My eyes, for now i have eyes, and many other things besides, are open, and i realize that they have been for quite some time.
Until next time, farewell, and may your vessel reach the singularity intact
To the Sun