Friday, March 23, 2012

a finished play?

Light at the end of the tunnel, motherfuckers. I'm hoping my goal of having a completed draft before starting rehearsals for my next show comes to pass. SO FUCKING CLOSE!!!

It's at this weird point where I can't stop writing, can't step away from it, yet somehow am also repelled by it, like I can see the potential for how it could be, but fear that I'm fucking it up at the same time.

Oh well. At least it'll be my fucked-up baby if nothing else.

Even if you have a cleft-palate, mentally deranged, psycho-retard baby, you still love your baby, right?

Even as it disgusts and appalls people and drives them to madness and suicide... :-)

That's the plan, anyway.

catholic castrations

So at what point do we admit that the Catholic Church, were it organized around anything other than religion, would be considered a thuggish gang of perverts and psychopaths, bent on world domination and assimilation?

A recent NY Times story tells of at least 10 young men and boys who were castrated after they made allegations of sexual abuse against members of the clergy.
A young man in the care of the Roman Catholic Church in the Netherlands was surgically castrated decades ago after complaining about sexual abuse, according to new evidence that only adds to the scandal engulfing the church there.

The case, which dates from the 1950s, has increased pressure for a government-led inquiry into sexual abuse in the Dutch church, amid suspicions that as many as 10 young men may have suffered the same fate.

So, yeah, that was as recently as the 1950s. The article goes on to state that it is unclear whether the castrations were performed as punishment for going to the authorities over the sexual abuse, or if they were meant as treatment '...for homosexuality...,' presumably the self-same homosexuality in the form of rape that was forced on them by priests.

And of course the man who was accused of abusing this poor fuck who had his nuts sliced off as a result--without anesthesia, apparently--was not prosecuted, but rather was transferred to Nova Scotia, where he started a school for boys.

Perfect.

Okay, so beyond the usual horror of what these people do, and the way they systematically cover their crimes over and over again, aiding and abetting the criminals in not only their escape, but to perpetrate more crimes in the future, I ask a serious question: if it weren't for religion, would anyone tolerate these crimes against humanity? Against children?

Which leads to my next question: why do we tolerate these crimes when they are perpetrated by people who claim to be the sole arbiters of the will of an invisible man in the sky? Shouldn't the fact of their religion be an argument AGAINST tolerating this shit?

It seems to me that people who believe in an invisible man in the sky are ipso facto the worst people to trust with the lives and well-being of anyone else.

This is a cult. These people are dangerous sociopaths with nearly unlimited money and a conspiracy of silence and corroboration supporting their criminal deviance. The fact that they believe in an imaginary deity based on nothing but faith and fealty should not absolve them of their crimes, it should be the final straw needed to convict them once and for all, and evict them from the rolls of The Good Ones of humanity.
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Thursday, March 22, 2012

do you like genesis?


I've been a real big fan ever since their 1980 album 'Duke.'

Oh, and my parents were killed in front of me when I was a child.

via

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

israeli/iranian love


This pretty well sums up the logic of the right-wing drumbeat to wage war on Iran, which sounds awfully familiar to anyone who hasn't swallowed the Kool-Aid since the last time these same people cried out to loose the dogs of war from the safety of their wingnut welfare offices.

But an interesting development on Facebook, ordinary citizens from both Israel and Iran have started a campaign of peace:

The love fest started after an Israeli couple made a Facebook page and blog Saturday, issuing an online call for peace. “Iranians, we will never bomb you country. We heart you,” posters uploaded to the sites read.

Hours later, the responses from Iranians started pouring in. In one, a woman from Iran uploaded a poster with the caption: “My Israeli friends, I don’t hate you, I don’t want war.”

Here's a link to the original FB page. Pretty amazing stuff, when ordinary citizens can tell each other directly that their leaders are warmongers and idiots who do not represent the majority.

Score one for the interwebz.

the world is on fire


this is cool and scary all at once. found at fasel.

don't know why i came here tonight


had a feeling that something ain't right

via

Friday, March 16, 2012

shakespeare as it sounded

This is cool--we saw a few weeks back a video of some scholars and actors discussing how the English language would have sounded in Shakespeare's day. They deduced this from some jokes that have gotten lost, plays on words, and etc. due to our modern improper pronunciation. And though they gave a few short examples of what it might have sounded like then, here's a link to a story on a guide published by the British Library that includes audio recordings of a few pieces.

Here is a bit from the Scottish Play, Act 2:

[EDIT: oops, I guess blogger won't let me embed clips from soundcloud. click the link above for clips from the scottish play, romeo and juliet, and one of the sonnets.]

I love how it sounds almost Northern or Yorkshire, and almost Irish, yet none of these. More clips at the site linked above.

wasted youth


Yep, that's about right. Only me and my friends would've been huffing the fumes as well as lighting them on fire.

via

new app


Or we can download it right to your face.

via cheezburger

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

game change



Holy crap, Julianne Moore is a goddess. This is amazing. Side by side clips from the new HBO movie 'Game Change' documenting the spectacular idiocy of Sarah Palin and the Republican Party for bringing her into McCain's campaign, showing Moore and the real Palin.

I don't know if I'll be able to actually watch the film though; it's just so painful to see even of a portrayal of that grifter and her stunning, smug stupidity and disingenuousness.

musical dogs



And I can't get my dog to stop eating cat poop out of the litter box.

Monday, March 12, 2012

tantrum proven

Well, who ever would have seen this coming?

A couple was thrown off a JetBlue flight when their two-year-old daughter threw a tantrum and they couldn't get her to sit still for take off. Then they went on the Today show to bitch about how 'there's no humanity,' or some such self-absorbed, self-pitying delusional bullshit. Within minutes, they immediately demonstrated that they indeed are the distracted, hands-off type of parents that make the world a shittier place for the rest of us by raising the next generation of shitty, spoiled humans.

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy


Well, that went worse than expected.

via

on the road on film



Ooh. Ooh, ooh, ooh.

I hate to say it but I have mixed feelings about this. I loved and still love this book; the cliche 'it changed my life;' truly does apply to 'On the Road.' When I was a teenager and first discovered Kerouac--and later, through him, Burroughs and Ginsberg--I was entranced, enthralled. Hypnotized. In love with the idea that it was possible that one could live and exist and be something other, something outside of the drone-clogged, worn pathways and ruts of the suburbs where I lived. I imagined another world, another way of looking at the world, and Kerouac and Burroughs opened the door to someplace wild and free and uninhibited and scary-wonderful-heavenly.

When I say 'On the Road' changed my life literally, this is what I mean: I hitchhiked out of Atlanta one gray afternoon in summer, standing on the side of the freeway with rain clouds threatening, a too-heavy duffel bag on my shoulder.

I haven't been back.

The road only goes forward.

I hitched to New Orleans, and a few years later to Denver and later out to LA--with a few odd Greyhound trips mixed in there.

Now, without that book--and not incidentally, without a certain stupid optimism/desperation of a rather emotionally fucked-up teenager--I would never have attempted this idiotic journey, 20 years after such travel had ceased to be even moderately safe, 30 years after it had gone out of fashion.

But dealing with the adversity out there and learning from the people I met made me what I am. As hard as it was, I wouldn't in a million years trade my experience for a 'normal,' straight to college, straight to job, straight to career, straight to marriage, straight to kids then straight on through to death type of existence.

I'm far too bent for all that straightness. Or at least I've become so.

I have far too many tales from my time on the road to share here right now. But my main point is that that famous book by Kerouac changed everything I was, everything I saw, everything I became.

And so to see it committed to film is...trepidatious for me. I hope it is incredible--the director is the same guy who directed 'The Motorcycle Diaries,' so hope is not unreasonable.

On the other hand, Kristen Stewart.

It smiles!

Why, O Why, lord do you suffer fools?

No, I guess it doesn't smile after all.

The one-expression wonder is leaving her sparkly gay vampire behind and joining Sal Paradise and Dean Moriarty and the other mad ones, mad to live, mad to yadda yadda, mad to...sparkle? Her attachment to the project fills me full of fear. It's not a huge part, I'm sure--hopefully not big enough to ruin the film. And I'm definitely looking forward to seeing Viggo Mortensen as the William Burroughs analogue.

But taking a book like that and making it a film is always tricky. So I guess I'm cautiously optimistic.

At least I've learned something of the cautious part of that over the years. I hope I'm still as optimistic as I was back then. We'll see if it's well-placed when the film comes out.

Jack and Neal in all their mad glory.

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Neil Gaiman on How to Seduce a Writer

This is from a post on Neil Gaiman's blog, in which a reader asked the author if he had any advice on how one might go about seducing a writer. Gaiman was very helpful.


Reader: Mister Gaiman, you’re kickass. I was just wondering, what do you think is the best way to seduce a writer? I figured your answer would be pretty spectacular.

Gaiman: In my experience, writers tend to be really good at the inside of their own heads and imaginary people, and a lot less good at the stuff going on outside, which means that quite often if you flirt with us we will completely fail to notice, leaving everybody involved slightly uncomfortable and more than slightly unlaid.

So I would suggest that any attempted seduction of a writer would probably go a great deal easier for all parties if you sent them a cheerful note saying “YOU ARE INVITED TO A SEDUCTION: Please come to dinner on Friday Night. Wear the kind of clothes you would like to be seduced in.”

And alcohol may help, too. Or kissing. Many writers figure out that they’re being seduced or flirted with if someone is actually kissing them.

On behalf of writers everywhere, I thank you, Mr. Gaiman, for helping us to find a way to interface the inside-of-the-head-things with the outside world. Lord knows we all need all the help we can get. :D

The Harvey Project published

Hey so I heard from playwright Dave Ulrich the other day. He's the guy who penned 'The Harvey Project,' a play in which I originated the title role a few years back. He's gotten around to publishing some older titles of his on Amazon, and asked me to write a review, so here it is. You can purchase the play for a mere $5 on Kindle!




The Harvey Project - Amazon review

I love this play, and not only because I had the privilege of appearing in the first-ever production of it. But, as such I had a lot of opportunity to think about Mr. Ulrich’s ideas and words, and the way he presented them, and I found as we went on that the piece reveals itself to be deeper over time, that you can peel back layer after layer of meaning if you pay attention.

When you are learning lines for a play, believe me, you read those pages over and over until you see them in your sleep. You give whatever play you’re working on--the characters, the story, the underlying meanings--a lot of thought, sometimes against your will. :-)

And what I found was that, especially for a young writer with not a tremendous amount of experience, Ulrich keeps the reader/audience engaged, and carries the weirdly intertwining stories along very gracefully.

I love the overlapping worlds he has created here--no spoilers, just read the damn thing; it’s only five bucks--and the philosophical questions he raises almost casually, almost elegantly, offhandedly.

But far from being some coldly tricksy, intellectual exercise, some smug treatise on existence and the absurdity of life, Ulrich has penned characters with heart and with emotion and with places they want to be, stories they want to tell. He has created real people that step up from the page. There is love here, and not of the schlocky, Hollywood-ized kind either, but rather that of real people with real conflicts and real problems.

While, to be honest there are a couple of transitions that are a bit awkward, and there are moments when the language gets a little clunky (hey, new playwright, remember?) overall it is a fun, and thoughtful ride with true depth and a solid if weird through-line.

I think ‘The Harvey Project’ is not only a great read, I would recommend it to schools and theatre companies as a show that will challenge actors, directors and audiences alike in terms of the material as well as the nuts and bolts of putting on a show set in a multi-verse.

Damn! There go the spoilers!

p.s. here's another piece by Dave which I haven't read yet, but which looks interesting.
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Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Loving You

Okay, so I've had this vid of Chat and Ben floating around on my comp for years, and I had always imagined this song as the soundtrack for it.

This is my first attempt at using Adobe Premiere (the cheapo version) so it's, um, terrible. But I also blame the original video--it was shot in my old basement apartment in the Fort so the lighting is terrible. I've done what I could with tweaking it, but it was already really grainy.

Anyway. It's still cute.

Rest in Peace, Chat, love you and miss you. (She was the only cat Ben could ever stand; he flips out and yowls and turns into a tasmaniam devil whenever he even sees another cat, so that makes this especially fun.)

video

Monday, March 5, 2012

i knew there was one

that one dinosaur that we will miss most of all. because he was...trepidatious. perspicacious...foundering...bloviating...

Shit.

dexter seuss

from everything i've heard, i'd rather see this than the new 'lorax' film that's out--sponsored by a CAR company.

i don't want to live on this planet...etc., etc.

Saturday, March 3, 2012

sleep deprivation

I'm not so much sleep-deprived as I am sleep-confused. I've been waking up at odd hours, napping at odder ones, some nights going to bed at 11:30, others 3:30. I'll wake up at 5:00 am and read or just say fuck it and get up.

Like today. I have a meeting at 9:00 this morning anyway, followed by an audition in Boulder, and since I didn't make it out running yesterday I'm just going to get up and go for a quick one.

The wonderful thing about it is what feel like 'bonus hours' to the day, in which I can work on my play. I've been something close to obsessed with it lately, thinking about it day and night, even when I can't actually work on it. Which is a wonderful feeling--the light is at the end of the tunnel, and the story seems to have its own momentum, which is a feeling like no other.

I checked last night and I've reached 120 pages, with maybe one or two more scenes to go before it's actually done. (Of course, after that I will reach the 'slash and burn' stage in which I will have to cut great swaths of it in order to get it to a manageable length (that's what she said). But at any rate, I've had some amazing writing days recently in which everything comes clear and I can see the trees and the forest all at once.

Anyway, I like this picture I found the other day; for some reason it looks like nighttime writing thought to me.


Edward Cao.
Wound, 2011. Acrylic on canvas, 18x24”.
Elegy, 2011. Series (I), acrylic on paper, 7.5x10.5”.

via 

And since we're talking about insomnia, and the insanity that surely follows, here's the king of madness, Ren with his hapless buddy Stimpy.





How easily I could end the farce...

heeeerrre's...confusion.


Marilyn...Jack...Marilyn...Jack...Marilyn...

Friday, March 2, 2012

anne frank wants no part of this

Brilliant. Anne Frank may be a newly baptized Mormonette, a hot, marriage-eligible 15-year-old to those old Mormon guys, but she's not really into it.

(My favorite thing about this is her typically grumpy, teenage girl scowl. Hey, she was a teenager, after all... :-)

via, by this guy

kenny powers, being a leader

Here's Mr. Powers' open letter to Tim Tebow. The lede:
As Yogi Berra famously said, "it's like Deja Vu came all over itself again."

It gets better from there, too. The helpful words of one gifted son-child to another.

You see, Gifted Young Athlete, people look at us and they see all they don't have. It's like, "homeboy's over there gettin' 'er done! And Jesus loves him too! Fuck that guy."

But can you really blame them? Wouldn't you be pissed?

I just recently caught up on "Eastbound and Down," and I'm wondering if the show ever was contacted by lawyers working for John Rocker, former closer for the Braves.

There are many, many similarities, from the racism, the arrogance, the 101 mph heater. (In looking up a link to some John Rocker info, I discovered that the retired pitcher is just as classy as ever--don't click unless you want to see his aged face hawking t-shirts that read 'Speak English.')

Although maybe the show's writers avoided that by employing the old writer's trick of attributing something so heinous to the character that the real-life guy would never publicly claim it was based on him.

The trick is you write a thinly-veiled character based on some real life person you hate, but then you give the character a tiny penis. No real life guy will go to court to publicly proclaim on the public record that he is in fact the owner of said tiny penis on which the character's tiny penis is based.

In the case of 'Eastbound,' Kenny Powers is a loser former star who loses everything due to his arrogance, snorts tons of coke, bangs skanky bar-whores, lives at his brother's house and, when he finally gets close to getting it on with his former girlfriend, he ignominiously comes in his pants.

Quoth John Rocker: 'Nope. That ain't me.'

But at least he said it in English...right?

pulp shakespeare

From the Hollywood Fringe Festival, 'Pulp Shakespeare.'