July 30, 2010
here’s a blog.
Some thoughts from being a juror…from completing my civic duty.
If you think about fairness, you must also think about unfairness. What’s the difference, really? Each one hurts when you get right down to it. If you believe in the potential of fairness, you’re longing for something that you want–justice, and you must then also accept the potential for unfairness–an altered truth which becomes accepted as reality. Both are longing, and longing sucks. Our legal system is made up of “can you believe the lie?” If you can, then the wrong person wins. If you don’t, then the right person succeeds. It’s a complete mind fuck. Either way, this is a system based and judged upon perception, taste, and intuition. Bogus.
So I say, why have any laws at all? (OH NO!) Why have any judicial system? Why not simply confront the person you believe has wronged you, say, “You’ve wronged me” and wait for them to say, “Yes, I have,” or “No, I haven’t.” Because truly, the legal system seems to me more an exercise of pageantry. Are you green? Are you seasoned? Are you slick? Are you stumbling? Because as jurors, what we say, and what we “jure” on–can we use that as verb? jure?–is the plaintiff’s/defense’s plausibility. Do I believe what you’re saying is actually the truth? Or, do I believe you’re diving into a bucket of semi-truths, a bucket filled with a gallon of water and two caps of PineSol ready to eradicate, maybe even sterilize the lies/truths — we all know that the PineSol overcomes the water…and, ultimately (hopefully) the truth will reek more than the lie.
So that’s that.
In my satchel today, I packed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (mmm, yum), a Wednesday New York Post, whose crossword puzzle I destroyed, and one Klonopin pill. Which I didn’t consume, until after a reading of Generation Um (a new indie feature) two seats away from Keanu Reeves (the lead or star or whatever) America’s greatest living actor. I shook his hand, and it was basically like shaking anyone else’s hand, whether they were Keanu Reeves or not. My hand perspired the exact regular amount it would have perspired had it been anyone else’s hand, except he was Keanu Reeves. I’m glad I’m not star struck. I’m just relatively anxious all the time.
Is it fair or unfair that this gentleman (and he was gentle) has a career that is laid out before him like a perennial nut flush?? I don’t know. But it is what it is. And really, it’s not my place to judge. Even feeling jealous seems a bit like wasted effort, time and thought. The world is fucked up and unfair/fair and there is no jury for the experience of existence. So the best I can figure is to get over myself and be as “fair” as I can deal with….
Unrelated, If ping pong was an Olympic sport, I wouldn’t make the team. I’d make a good effort, but really pro ping-pong seems to not be in my cards. At the same time, my friend Anna says she would be a good table tennis player. Huh. Who knows?
Eat it, or just taste it a little. Life. Or Fairness that is.
By the way my case was settled…I never got to pass judgment on the fairness of it all.
July 27, 2010
Being that I am currently the Tuesday blogger for this theatre company, it has led me to find out some interesting facts you may or may not have known about Tuesday. Obviously, “Shrive Tuesday” or “Mardi Gras” is famous for being the last Tuesday before Lent, as well as a day I generally don’t remember; but did you know many other important things happened on Tuesday? Besides this blog, I mean?
-Black Tuesday was October 29, 1929, the day the New York Stock Exchange crashed.
-On January 23, 1845, the United States Congress set the Tuesday after the First Monday in November to be the one and only day when Americans choose our president.
-Super Tuesday is the day when nearly half the states in the union hold political primaries, caucuses, and conventions to determine their candidates for president.
Okay enough about Tuesday. Tuesday is boring. Fuck Tuesday. What I want to talk about is theatre.
Yes, Last Sunday I picked up my tickets to go review a couple shows for the NY International Fringe Festival. I met with Martin Denton, a great guy who has certainly supported Miscreant since inception; and he told me he had deleted his Facebook account. His reason behind it was that so many independent theatre companies had become completely dependent on Facebook to spread the word about their shows that they had forgotten the basics of writing a good press release; dealing with editors, and listing their shows for free on the sites and magazines that are available. His site, NYTheatre.com (part of NYTE.org) is one of them, but there are a plethora: www.offoffonline.com, www.offoffbway.com, www.offbroadway.com, www.offoffoff.com (no I’m not making that one up) and many more I’m forgetting now; not to mention the fact that any show can be listed in the Village Voice, Time Out New York, and Playbill.com with very little effort. Now getting listed by the New York Times; well, that’s something our friends at the Apothecary Theatre are going to have to let us in on, because Jesus we’ve been banging on that door for a while and they just seemed to walk right in…
By the way, Go See “In God’s Hat” playing at the Peter Jay Sharp Theater on 416 West 42nd Street until August 7th. Great Plug for Apothecary for the five or six people who read this blog.
I guess my point is this: Martin is right, in a way: Facebook should never be a substitute for good PR, which is why I think Martin deleted his account. Hey, I’ve often thought about deleting my account as well, though not for the same reasons. However, hate it or love it, Facebook is here to stay. Didn’t I read a report (yes, I read) that it now hosts one-seventh of the planet’s population? That’s actually pretty huge… I don’t necessarily know if it’s true, but at least in New York it is so huge that no company can deny the importance of Facebook in this new age of information. The ability to reach out to people so immediately about what you are doing is a bit of a gift for independent theatre, and although I can understand Martin’s reservations, I certainly have no point.
It’s Tuesday anyway. I often have no point. I’m going to Citi Field this evening to yell at the Mets. Let’s go Mets! Beat the Redbirds! Stupid racist birds.
Yabba Dabba Doo,
July 25, 2010
Some thoughts spoken aloud and dictated:
I’ve recently decided that I am going to resume my life as an amateur-posing-as-professional gambler with the hope of seeing big pots thereby leading to financial prosperity for Miscreant Theatre.
Presently I’m listening to a live version of Aerosmith’s Living on the Edge and it’s amping me up a bit. Forgive me.
I’ve found that theatre is difficult, but I find love and compassion to be a much more daunting proposition.
I was pro-life before the idea of pregnancy became more than a notion. Now I’m Pro-think-about-everything-and-make-the best-decision-for yourself. Philosophy is born of practicality.
I got to shake hands with Alan Cumming the other day. Which was just like shaking any body else’s hand except for the fact that he was Alan Cumming. My hands still perspired the exact regular amount they would had it been anyone else’s hand I was shaking. I’m glad I’m not star struck. I’m just relatively anxious all the time.
I’ve been trying to quit smoking, which has been a greasy nightmare. It’s going to be hard to do this.
I’ve never had anyone take dictation before; now that I have someone, I find myself judging what I have to say. I think if I’m going to smoke, I should just do so and enjoy it. I know it’s going to kill me. Right. So my favorite brand or band used to be Camel Lights but now that I’m smoking Lucky Strikes, I think that’s the way to go. They’re unfiltered, which I like, because I can just smoke it to the very end. Just like a play, or song, you just smoke it to the very end. Burn the tips of your fingers a bit. Also, a cigarette “filter” is kinda a dumb idea….like a life preserver made of goose feathers, it takes on water and it gets heavier and heavier and actually ends up drowning you…yeah, I don’t know, back to theater:
Um, I got in an argument tonight with somebody who maintained that Platonov and Ivanov were not the same play. Which they are. One was a sketch of an idea for the other, but at the end of the day, the same play;. We fought about it for a hot second or two before we decided to look it up. Turns out, I was right. Uh, right. Okay, enough about theater:
I’m a juror right now. And I’ve sworn, right hand in the air, that I will attempt to be impartial and fair….that’s really all I can say about that right now. I’ll let you know all the good stuff when the case is settled…
Eeeehhhhhmmm, what else…? Kinda want to do another Smash and Grab….Really, people won’t stop talking about it. No, delete that. Actually write: no, delete that. I don’t know. After I stop smoking this cigarette, I’m going to try and quit smoking again.
Hearts and kisses,
July 24, 2010
The third week of a three of four week rehearsal period is always, always treacherous. I call it the week of death. It’s the point in rehearsal where things start to get set and things that were funny stop being funny. That’s not to say that the bit is no longer funny, it’s just no longer funny to the people in the room who’ve now been seeing it for a couple weeks. It’s also the period of time where the pressure of mounting the production starts to weigh in. Week one, everyone is getting to know each other, not to mention the play. Week two, is all about exploration; actors are getting on their feet and physically realizing what is on the page. Week two is my favorite week of rehearsal.
The dangers of week three are many: actors get sick of what they’re doing and change it just to change it. People have gotten comfortable with each other and they’re a little less polite about what they’re feeling about each other. The director is getting pressure form the powers above. It’s a perilous time for the production….
I don’t have a solution for the dangers of week three. It’s manifested itself in every production I can think of, regardless of content, style of work, group of people, place, etc… I guess the best remedy is to know that you’re going into week three and to hold on for dear life. The benefit is that week four is usually magical. That’s the point where the production really comes to fruition. Maybe the magic of week four is inherent in the danger of week three….
When it comes down to it, week three is the ‘line in the sand’ for a production; you either come out stronger on the other side, or you never recover from it.
July 20, 2010
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It’s Tuesday AGAIN!
Funny how that day just keeps rolling around every week. By the way, don’t bother going to MOMA today, because MOMA is closed on Tuesday. I know this first-hand. How, you ask? Besides, of course, the posted hours right on the front door?
Oh! How wonderful of you to ask! I shall tell you.
Once upon a time, I was dating this very cute girl…
(let me just get Jake and Jeff’s jokes out of the way right now)
“You mean, A GIRL?”
(haha very funny imaginary comments, ass-clowns. Row, you have something you want to add? I didn’t think so. I’m really tough and I intimidate people.)
…And we were going to go to MOMA and look at art. Yes, that’s what we were going to do. However, on the subway platform we were stopped by two police officers who accused us of “doubling-up” at the turnstile. Which, in this case, was absolutely untrue.
Look, and Jake can attest to this, I’ve done a fair amount of illegal shit in my life. But this was the one time I was actually accused of something I didn’t do; so I got real high and mighty about the whole thing. “No we didn’t! Check my Metrocard! I just swiped two passes! Check it, seriously, CHECK IT!!!”
Anyhow, they eventually believed me, and we went on to MOMA, only to find they are closed on Tuesdays.
Then she dumped a week later.
What a fun little story that was. I just can’t stop laughing at the whimsical hilarity of it. Oh boy, I’m glad Tuesday is my assigned day to blog. Maybe we can make tomorrow “Beat the crap out of myself with a stick Wednesday”.
yeah yeah yeah…
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