Consider the minivan

I think it’s time for Hollywood to consider the minivan as a viable source of suave, robotic awesomeness. Too often the hardcore spies get a sexy little European roadster while their team of technicians sits in a clunky full-size work van. For the sake of saving money on budget, though, I propose that filmmakers could maximize their efficiency by putting the whole team into one fully-functional - and stylish - minivan.
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Social news is here and it’s not going away

So - as I took a break from preparing for the future to take a glance at what’s happening in the present, I couldn’t help but notice World Cup scores. Team USA is out, but for once in our lifetime, we got closer to the cup than England, France, and Italy did. Had I been paying closer attention to Twitter feeds and Facebook status updates, I might have known that sooner.

But something struck me: I didn’t need to know that any sooner than I did. Its relevance to my life is pretty low. The World Cup is just something I take a mild interest in every four years.
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And that’s how the show feels

orestes-fight-rehearsalWe had the most amazing “Orestes” rehearsal today. There was some time spent in fight choreography and practice, wherein Theresa Neef, Anna Weiler, and Alicia Reese flip back and forth between slow-motion and real-time –- sort of like “The Matrix,” but minus the whoa.

This was followed by the most intense (and longest) fragments exercise I’ve ever been involved in. Two people cried. TWO. Hot, human tears. For real.
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O wretched source of income

best-of-chicago-2010The amazingest news of the week is that Dream Theatre won both Best Off-Loop Theatre Company and Best New Play (for the Agon Trilogy) from the Chicago Reader! The second part is especially amazing since “Orestes,” the third play in the trilogy, hasn’t even opened yet.

And speaking of “Orestes,” it occurs to me that June has flown by and we open in a few short weeks now. I am going to have to memorize my lines at some point.
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Orestes, or Electra 2: Back Into Hell

It feels pretty strange, I will admit, to switch so suddenly from show mode back into rehearsal mode. Like shifting from fifth gear to first without depressing the clutch. I even make that awful grinding noise. But back into rehearsal mode we must go, ready or not, so onward and upward…or, in this case, downward, since the whole second half of Orestes takes place in hell.

electra-in-hell
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Something I never expected (Did it surprise you?)

In honor of our British opponents in today’s World Cup match, let’s start with some 90’s BritPop:

She’s in a family full of eccentrics
She’s done things I never expected
And I need more time


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Let’s go with a cliché title: Everyone’s A Critic.

What’s the value of a critic?

What’s the value of criticism?

They’re two completely separate things.
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I AM blogging at the laundromat

I’ve been thinking about poetry lately. It’s true it sounds differently when you speak it aloud than when read inside your mind. It also sounds differently when you whisper it to yourself than when you shout it to a crowd.

I discovered the magic of whispering poetry quietly out loud for one’s own self this afternoon. I’m in the laundromat, and I whispered some poetry to myself between two noisy washing machines because I didn’t want anybody else to hear me. That would have been, you know, weird and embarrassing.

What I heard was mine and mine alone, and somehow it felt like now it existed in reality instead of just on a page. Funny, too, how it feels like if I knew anybody else had heard it, that would have depreciated the solidity of the words in the universe, as though if other people heard it, too, then it would have been just some collective dream instead of my own tangible experience. Funny, I say, because that’s pretty much the definition of crazy. But I know how I feel, and I won’t back down.

Also, I’ve discovered Darwin Deez. The weirdness and the beauty just keep coming.

I am not blogging at Starbuck’s on my Mac

That’s right, world – I may be blogging, and I may be using a Mac, but I am not at Starbuck’s. Not anymore. I was there earlier, with my giant hipster headphones over my ears, typing thoughtfully with one hand and tapping mindlessly in time with the Grateful Dead with my other hand. Yeah, I was working on my novel, not blogging.

That’s when I was discovered by people I know, so I scrambled to look less like some pretentious English major and more like a professional something-or-other, but I’m pretty sure I failed. I’m just glad I didn’t spill (much) coffee on my precious white MacBook.

Whatever.
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THXTHXTHX: The Anti-Hatemail

I ran across THXTHXTHX [via], and thought it’s really interesting. Thank-you-note-blog. An Anti-Hatemail!

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