This Is How The World Ends #9

(Off the suggestion of "blackboard" from Nicole)

THE TALK

The chalk dust always made her cough.  Well, cough more.  Everyone coughed now.  The filters left the air stale and rife with particles.  The ever present stench of bodies and sweat.  And of course the radiation.  She didn't like to think about what her RAD count was over the last twelve years even though she knew it by heart.  They all did, just as they knew their white blood cell counts and what their last chest x-rays looked like.  But the chalk made it worse.

Silvia finished erasing the blackboard and wiped the yellow dust on her jeans.  Picking out a fresh piece of chalk, she turn back to the classroom and the children's attentive faces.  Thirty boys and girls, ages seven to ten.  This was a lesson she was dreading.

"Okay, class.  I need you all to pay attention and take this seriously.  I know it is an uncomfortable topic.  That's okay.  But it's important and that we don't get distracted by giggles."

She turned back to the board and wrote three letters, large and clear.  S. E. X.  She expected giggling to erupt behind her but there was only silence.

"Sex," Silvia announced towards the class.  There was little recognition from most of them, as if she was speaking a foreign language.  "So, does anyone know what 'sex' means?"

The class shifted uncomfortably and exchanged nervous glances.  The lights flickered and went off, plunging the room into black.  A few second later there was a thump and a hum as the back up generators shifted on.  The lights sputtered back on.  When she had been a child, a moment like that would have frightened her.  Hell, when they first moved into the vaults, it scared her.  But not anymore.  Nor did it frighten the children.  Fear of the dark is the fear of the unknown.  They had always known the dark and took it as a given of daily life.

Timothy, sitting near the front, cautiously raised his hand.  Silvia noticed it was bandaged and assumed that he had lost another finger.  The phrase "ten heathy fingers and tenhealthy toes" flashed through Silvia's mind and she forced it out.

"Yes, Timothy?"

"It's when a man and a woman get naked and touch each other."  There as a small wave of giggling which filled Silvia with joy.  It was a sound she so rarely heard and reassured her.

"Yes and no.  It doesn't have to be a man and a woman.  It can be two women or two men.  And it can be between more than two people." More giggles.  She remembered when there was a time that speaking those words would have started a flood of controversy.  Not any more.  There were too few of them left to care anymore.  And all the arguments for only same sex relationships had disappeared.  It was hard to defend those sort of moral judgments these days.

"We're going to spend the rest of the day talking about sex.  You can ask any thing that you want.  It can be confusing, I know.  But you are all getting older and soon you will begin to want to experiment and experience sex.  I would guess some of you have already begun to experiment."

She noticed a quick exchange of nervous looks between Amber and Benjamin, both aged ten.  She made a mental note to approach both of them privately.  And to notify medical for them to both be checked again.  Just to be safe.

"First, the important thing for you all to know is that your body is your body.  No one has the right to make you do things that you don't want to.  It is your choice.  That is very important.  We can talk about that in more detail later.  But, please, know that if you ever feeling like someone is forcing you, even if only with words, tell me or your parents or a doctor or an enforcer.  Tell an adult, okay? I repeat: your body is your body."  Even if it is rebelling against you and slowly dying.  She thought of her own body and its pains and sores that never seemed to heal.

They nodded, most of them probably not understanding.

"Sex can, if done with people you feel comfortable with and trust, be wonderful and pleasurable.  I am going to tell you about some of the things people can do with each other and ways that might help it be more pleasurable.  But each person is different.  But let's start small."

She turned back to the board and wrote KISSING.

"Kissing isn't sex!" a voice said loudly.  Turning back, she saw that it was Bradley.  "My mommy kisses me before I go to bed.  And I don't think that is sex."

"You're right, Billy.  There are different types of kissing."

Christina's hand was up and waving for attention and Silvia knew exactly what Christina was going to say.  She was only eight, but Christina was smart and her parents, unlike most parents in the vaults, did not go out of their way to protect her from the truths of the world.  Like any eight year old, her knowledge was incomplete and often mixed up, the old world mixing withe new, but Christina had the awkward, if healthy, habit of shattering lies people often hid behind.

Maybe it would be better to lie, to pretend.  It is not like it matters in the long run.  There was no long run anymore.  Who was Christina or Silvia to force people from fantasies that made it easier to go on day to day?  But Silvia was a teacher and believed in truth.  Even now, making informed choices was a human right.

Silvia point towards Christina who looked like she was about to explode.  "Yes?"

Christina cleared her throat.   "Sex is also how you make babies.  But not kissing.  The other thing.  When a man puts his penis in a woman's vagina."  A mixture of giggles and shifting and mumbling.  Still certain words always bring giggling.  But the mumbling was from the other word, the word no one liked to say any more.  This is what Silvia had dreaded.

"Yes.  It is how we used to make babies."

Babies.  The word that had no more meaning since there were none.  Not for seven years.  In this very room was Eve Mendleson, the youngest person in the vault, probably the world.  Her parents had named her in an obscene hope that Eve would not be the last but a new beginning.  Not the choice had already been made.

The vote had been overwhelming.  The facts were clear.  To have more children was just to extend the suffering of the human race.

Silvia looked across the faces and forced herself to smile, living her own lie.  She wanted to cry and hug them.  She missed her own little girl who had died just weeks after they entered the vault.  Her little girl, dying in incredible pain, coughing up blood and the skin pealing from her flesh.  She forced the memories from her mind, forced the tears to not flood from her eyes and smiled at the children.

"But we don't have babies anymore.  Everyone has had surgeries so that no one can have babies ever again.  So people only have sex for comfort and fun and pleasure now."  Silvia knew that wasn't exactly true.  Sex was still used to hurt and to feel sorrow and anger and any of the thousand reasons people have always had sex.  Just not to make life.  "That's why there are no babies."

The children, no matter what they had been told in their short lives knew what this meant.  But they all already knew and had always known.  Just like darkness, it was all around them.  The concrete corridors and rooms were empty of new life and would some day soon be empty of any life.  

Their lives now would be short.  Her job was to help them find what joy they could.

"So," Silvia said as brightly and cheerfully as she could manage, "let's talk about kissing."  And some of the class leaned forward to listen.

Why the End of the World

Approximately 74% of the people reading this already know the answer but I am going to chat about it anyway.   I am recently started a class at the Upright Citizens Brigade: The End of the World.   It is performing an improv form using the genre of the, well, end of the world. Apocalypses and post-apocalypses.  Alien invasions, viruses, zombies, doomsday weapons, time travel, distopias, reality altering drugs, clones, robots, Revelations, meteors, earthquakes, global warming, the sun dying, nuclear war, 2012, genetically altered animals, mutants, the Antichrist, and on and on.

If you know me at all, you know why I felt like this class was something I needed to participate in. Hell, I toyed with the idea of asking if I could be unpaid TA if I didn't get in the class.  The whole concept fascinates me.  It is both epic and personal, and usually slapped with a great big moral message. What also fascinates me is our (has a human race) fascination in it.  We just love  (and apparently always) be unable to not think about the end of it all.  How will we, has a race, meet our final demise?  With a bang or a whimper?  Usually it is our on hubris, especially since the start of the 20th century.  And that alone is a testament to our own hubris: We are very convinced  that our own ability to play god will be our own destruction.

Also it is just damn fun to do.  Seriously.  It is like an excuse to initiate all the crap that usually occurs to me.  Crazy scenarios, themes that hit you like a 2x4, the type of broad characters that I am nervous to break out in any other impov form.  I am like a kid in a candy shop.

Anywhozits, that is why I am using it to write short stories.  Apologies to Douglas Adams and the original conception of what eventually became Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.  I will probably run out of steam at some point (heck, I am behind now).  If you have any suggestion, challenges, ideas, whatevers... feel free (read: I beg you) to post them in the comments.  I will do my best.

Deconstructing (pt. 2): Better To Give Than Receive (actually, both are great)

(Continuing from pt 1.)

One of the liberating things about this opening (and the form that follows) is that it is a free pass at endowing yourself and everyone else with stuff to play.

Normally, openings tend to interpreted pretty loosely. This is by design. You want to surprise the audience and yourself. You take bits and pieces and themes from the opening and then explore, riff, whatever off them. Part of the magic of improv is the discoveries that happen during a show. It is something that the audience and performers get to share at the same time. They aren't sure who you're going to use the opening and neither are you.

This form, because you are drawing so directly from the opening, makes that harder. Everything is played much closer. (I'm going to discuss the difficulty and freedom this causes in a later post.) But because things are played closer it does allow you to do something which is semi-frowned on in most improv... but can also be so so fun.

Pimping. (In improv, for those few readers who don't know, pimping is that act of forcing your scene partner to do something. The classic example is handing them a 'book' and saying, "Read this poem out loud." You have now forced your partner into making up a poem on the spot.)

Now, this is true pimping. It is more endowing. Because you know that if you mention a one legged French ballet dancer who sells knifes door to door in the opening someone on the backline is going to play the one legged French ballet dancer who sells knifes door to door, it can be quite fun. Once I realized this, it took some of the pressure off the opening for me. I knew whatever I said was going to be something for someone else to put on. Of course this heightens the fact that you don't want to explore anything to deeply in the opening. If you paint to main details about something/someone in the opening, it gives them nothing to explore later. If you describe the whole 'game' of a character in the opening, there will be nothing to be discovered when we finally see that character. (And if you spend too much time on one thing, you'll not have enough time to get out other things for other people to play.) Again it is such a gentle balance.

Not unique to this form but perhaps heightened by it, is the "I Want That!" syndrome. When on the backline during the opening, you hear something that appeals to you strongly, you suddenly think "Oh god. I want to play that!" You of course have to keep listening but you jam it into your back pocket. Now in most openings, I jam a handful of things into my pockets and am all set to bring it up whenever I need to. But because the ideas from The Gossip opening can be so strong I find myself being, well, selfish. I want to jump out with the one thing that most appeals to me as quickly as I can... before anyone else can. This is good (because you are excited about the gifts that are being given to you) but so dangerous. Besides it just being greedy and not so supportive, it can also screw the pacing of the whole piece. If there is one idea that is clearly so fun and so good, you probably want to save it for a few scenes in. The audience probably keyed in on that idea too. It is probably strongest in their mind right after the opening and they want and expect to see it. If you go straight to it, you are just giving them exactly what they expect. But if you wait, it leaves the from of the audience's mind and becomes exciting when it finally does show up. One of those keys to comedy is to get the audience to expect and anticipate something and then not give it to them until they don't expect it. Giving them that moment of "Oh yes! I remember that!" is so much better than "Oh yes. I knew that was next."

But something else I realized is that you need to take care of yourself. Because the characters in the opening end up (just by the nature of it all) being the center of the world (although they might not be the focus), they will (most likely) come back in the body of the piece. And if you don't give yourself something you want to play, you are screwing yourself. This is hard because you are trying to NOT play game in the opening, a character game might not get developed at all. So, especially early in the opening, giving you something strong to grab on to is just watching out for yourself. But of course, you don't want to play it strongly during the opening. You want to leave something to explore later on. An example from my previous post is the touching thing. It gave me a strong character trait. When I was called off the backline and put into a flash back scene of having my boss/lover over for dinner with my wife, I immediately started touching both of them. I knew exactly who I was and what I was thinking and what I was doing.

I tend to be pretty shy about endowing myself. I'm more comfortable supporting others with moves. Heck,one of my problems is playing game so hard and straight that there is too little discovery. I think I'm getting better. With this form (especially the opening, either in it or on the backline) I feel like I am being set free.

Deconstructing (pt. 1): Create More, Explore Less

This post will be rambling and probably insanely boring to non-impov people. (Chances are that it will be boring to improv people too.) This is at least me third attempt at it but each thought leads to a new thought and by the time I get three paragraphs in and I end up contradicting myself. But I do love thinking about this stuff and my brain has been pretty fixated on this topic for the last two weeks. Writing/discussing about it helps me process my thoughts which actually helps me get out of my head when I am actually performing. Anywhozits, enough with the qualifications. I should just get on with it.

(Off topic, the radio just mentioned that Disneyland was closed last night for Miley Ray Cirus's birthday. Yes, I wish I was her. Just this once.)

Background: Right after I finished my last 501 class (which was one of the great classes of my short improv life), I started a 600 class. 600 classes are kind of the master classes at UCB. They focus on a specific thing or form, often something new the teacher wants to create or explore. It is the same teacher as my last 501 (who I adore because I think she "gets me"). The 600 is filled with great performers, most of whom I have know of for a long time but never have had a chance to play with.

I went into the class not having very clear idea what the form was going to be. (I had a guess that was completely wrong.) It is a form of deconstruction... sort of. It is almost a reconstruction. No, that's not the right word either. One of the big problems with discussing improv (as is the problem with discussing most art) is that the vocabulary is so slippery. Very little is concrete form person to person, place to place, time to time. Hell. I don't want to get too deep into what it is because that might spoil some of the fun for those who see it. But I want to talk about some of the ideas behind it.

One of the cool/difficult things about the way we are doing this form is that it involves breaking a lot of the "rules" that have been drilled into our heads. Of course there are no rules in improv. There is often structure (which can also be broken).

(A lot of 600s are about learning new tools and skill sets but don't actively break any of the previous rules. Forms like The Documentary or The Movie are different forms that give you different styles and editing tools with which to play (and does brake the "avoid plot/narrative"). Other 600s like the phenomenal Raw Harold was about really removing all the rules. This 600 has moments that remove some rules and tweaking others but staying very true to others. We are being given a lot of freedom with which to play... which means you have to be so more diligent about certain other things.)

But there are things that are trained into you that are make it easier and smoother. For example, "Don't talk about things not in the scene." You want to make the scene about the present. Simple enough. Who wants to watch people talk about what the crazy night they had last night or what they are going to do tomorrow or that weird guy done the street. You want to see those things on stage. Of course, you can have very funny/engaging scenes with people talking about other things... it is just a lot harder to do well.

The opening of this form is specifically breaking that rule. You want to talk a lot about other people and things. You want not get stuck on playing the game of the scene because that will stop you from getting information out for the rest of the piece. I took a workshop with Matt Walsh during the Del Close Marathon this year. The best thing I took away from it was a simple sentence, "Create less, explore more." Basically, find that information and stuff in those first few lines and explore those. Don't keep adding new vaguely related stuff. But here we have to do a five minute scene, layering more and more info, never delving to deeply into anyone thing. It goes against one of the base instincts we have had imprinted into our brains. In someways it become the reverse of that rule: "Create more, explore less."

While difficult to shift gears, I am finding this aspect so rewarding. In my head I am creating new little rules in my head, new ways to think about the doing the opening scene. The idea is to paint the world around the people in the scene. Step one (like any scene), is to establish where you are and who you are to each other. The where is important. Not just "we are in our living room" but where that living room is. Is it in a New York apartment? A suburbs? A farmhouse? Those are all questions you should be asking in any scene but here it is even more important. And once you know who you and your scene partner(s) are, just start painting that world around you. Who would these people know? Who would be important to them? Who would intrigue them? The teacher calls the opening the Gossip and for good reason. Who would they talk about and why would they talk about them?

Normally, it is important to me to figure out my view point through specific emotions and actions. But this becomes some what secondary. But I am finding that is okay. Given five minutes (which is actually a life time in an improv scene), you can take your time and figure out who you are through who you talk about. I like having that time and discovering things indirectly. Once I realized that, it suddenly became easier to think about. (I'm not saying I'm doing it well yet but I think I am starting to get it in my head.)

I've established a bit of a pattern in my head. Establish where we are by environmental work and who we are to each other. (I still need to get better at naming people... I am bad at that.) As soon as we are done with that, start talking about other people. Right away. Don't worry about finding something important about us in the scene. That will come. Once someone has been mention, give two or three things about them. Just yes-and. If your scene partner mentions the new pet shop down the street, immediately think about pet shops I know or what pet shops make me think of. "Oh, yes. I walked in there yesterday. Jenkins, the owner, sure seems to specialize in exotic reptiles." Doesn't matter what it is. Yes-and once or twice then move on. That is hard to relearn but I'm starting to get my brain to do it "two, three facts and drop it." From there it is to A to C off of who we are, where we are, or what what has already been mentioned. For whatever reason, I think pet shop, I picture a barbershop next to it. "I so need to get my haircut but I swear that my barber is trying to cheat me." Or when I think "reptiles," I think of people who are scared of them. "Speaking of snakes, my sister still hasn't recovered from that time she got lost in the Reptile House at the zoo." Or go to the environment we're in. Maybe my scene partner has gone to the fridge. "Oh, by the way, I gave the last of our eggs to the neighbors. You know how hard it has been on the Dickersons since Fredrick lost his job at the paper mill."

The hard part for me has definitely been to not play any game that has popped up. It is so ingrained in me that if I see a way to play something already established to not come back to it. For example, last night I was doing a scene where we quickly discovered we were a married couple and I had recently told my wife that I had always been gay. We had a few mini-games very early including the fact that I was touching her gingerly but a lot. It was so difficult to get away from (1) that very loaded and emotional relationship and (2) that mini-game. We had, in any other case, everything you needed for an easy and fun scene to just play. But we needed to give info for the body of the set. We (well, mostly my great scene partner) would quickly add more things/people in the world, but almost everything was presenting a way to play the game we'd established. I actively had to keep steering myself away from it.

One lesson I took from that scene, is that you can play those mini-side games (like the touching) but you can never fixate on them. They can help ground you and give you something to do but you can't comment on them more than once. And you can save any game you find for the scene for later. When you feel you are getting closer to that five minute mark and feel you have laid down a lot of stuff for everyone else to play with, it can give you something nice to give the backline something to edit you on. For example, last night I realized that has the scene went on I was becoming more comfortable being gay around my wife and I just said, "Wow. I am become more gay by the minute." (Yes, not the greatest game. Just an example.) And we were edited.

Okay, this is already too long and I haven't come close to everything I want to say/am thinking about. So I added a "pt. 1" to the title. Later (when I get time) I will discuss...
• In the opening, endowing yourself with something strong. • Pimping the entire backline, or why it is better to give than receive. • Playing specifics but not plot. • Laying game, playing game, discovering game. • The easiest from of connections ever: Mix and matching characters.

Collection of thoughts that shouldn't be in the same post

I am fascinated by the semantics of things. Right now my issue is with improv. There is a pile of vocabulary that we use to discuss improv but everything is poorly defined. Or at least diversely defined. This is a problem with with discussing most art (like trying to define the word "art"). For example, there is a concept of "game." The simplest definition is "what is funny in a scene," but that of course opens a whole other can of worms. Often the nuances of what made a line or situation "funny" is ambiguous. Or it can be for me at least. There was line said by my scene partner in my class show yesterday that killed. It was one of those audience can't stop laughing moments. I had bite the inside of my cheeks to keep from laughing. And I am not 100% sure why.

There are tons of words in improv that everyone has there own definition for. "Relationship." "Pattern." Some words are things that supposedly mean a very specific thing. For example, there is an exercises/warm-ups called Categories. Actually there are three separate games I have heard called Categories. And I have seen each of those games played many different ways.

The worst, I think most would agree, is the term "Organic." This can either refer to a type of opening to an improv set or to an entire set style. I have NEVER had two teachers describe it the same way. It has weird connotations in a lot of students heads. This is partly due to the fact that when you are first learning about it it is similar to an exercise call Follow the Follower (which some of us refer to as Woosh-Woosh) but as you go along you add more layers and options to it. In my mind, an organic opening (or an organic styled show) is about accepting everything you are given by everyone but it is also about making choices. Choices inform choices. It is about not judging yourself or others and letting the whole lead your impulse... but it also means allowing those impulses to come out. Thank You, Robot mostly does "Organic" openings but we have started calling it the "Anything" opening, which is more accurate.

Anywhozits, how people communicate with a flawed or ill-established vocabulary fascinates me.

I may have very well used "semantics" incorrectly here.


David Foster Wallace hung himself on Friday. As stated before, I had just started to reread Infinite Jest last week. Saturday night on the subway I was reading a chapter dealing with a woman talking about how depression made her feel and the difference between attempting suicide to hurt oneself and attempting suicide to end oneself. When I got home I found out he was dead. It hit me harder than I would have expected.

I don't know if I have more to say about it.


I bought the video game Star Wars The Force Unleashed. As someone pointed out, it is a ridiculous title. I've only had a chance to play for half an hour. Hack, slash. Good fun. I am sure I will have more to say on it when I have played more.


Someone farted on the subway a few days ago and it smelled like waffles with maple syrup.


I've been re-watching the tv series Angel lately. Such good goofy fun. Season four is all over the map. I really liked season five. For a show that ended on a picture perfect note, I wish it would come back. And not as a movie. I liked it because it was a series.

I actually thought I was going to write more about Angel but now I realize I don't want to.


Thank You, Robot has a show on Friday at Under St. Marks (94 St. Marks Place). 10:30. You should come to it (especially if you didn't come to be class show yesterday). It's only $6 and the other teams are Old Enough (which I believe is made up of all improvisers over 40) and Bangs (which is an UCB house team that I am really enjoying watch grow).

If you came to my class show, thank you. I know at least three of my readers were actually in it so they don't get actual thanks for showing up. They do get thanks for being awesome.


I am more excited to see the Presidential (and Vice Presidential) debates than I have been... well, ever. And I am pretty sure I will be disappointed all around. Much like watching sports, they are only interesting when things get crazy or just go horribly wrong.


I have a new favorite brand of athletic socks.

Sophie Can Walk

(via Boing Boing)

Issues of Blogging

This is a somewhat pointless post since it is about not posting.

There are a handful of things that I would like to write about but can't. Well, I can but they are personal. Hell, I have no problem sharing things about myself but these are things that, one way or another, involve other people.

This is one eason I don't write 95% of my thoughts on improv. I have TONS of thoughts on shows I done and scene and on classes I'm taking and and on being on teams and on the improv scene in general... but they aren't all positive. In my brain they are interesting thoughts/observations/questions, but other people connected to them could very well fell, well, annoyed. Besides it feels icky to very publicly crap on people who are doing something for zero to negative money but are doing it for just the love of it. Not that I think my thoughts are "crapping on." I just like analyzing things. I like to think about why things work and why they don't.

But the fact is there is no point to blog about them just to hear myself pontificate. (Buy me a drink or two and I share my views pretty openly.)

Then there are juicy topics of sex and relationships and all that steamy jazz. These were easy to blog about when I'm not involved. Heck, there are plenty of times that I have hidden "super secret messages" (to quote Alan K.) in these posts. Messages to women I've had crushes on (from "mild fleeting crushes" to "why can't I get them out of my head crushes"). I try, when I can, to get away from the specifics of any particular situation and post about my feeling on a broader issues. But that's not always possible. For example... actually I can't give a good example with out revealing too much.

So I am stuck with wanting to rant about Sarah Palin... until I remember that I wasn't going to vote Republican anyway and she is just the VP candidate.

A couple of days ago I mentioned a class I wanted to take. Well, I was accepted. It's not a huge deal, but I had a weird hang up since I was rejected from taking the last three advanced classes to which I applied. I am excited though. I'm excited about learning something new and working hard with new people to create something specific. So "yay" for me.

What I've Been Thinking About Lately

After it kept coming up in conversations, I decided to re-read Infinite Jest. It's been about ten years. After just three chapters it's back at the top of my favorite books. I can't quite put my finger on it. The characters – Hal's in the opening scene...his disconnect to what is going on around him and even what is going out of his mouth... "We witnessed something only marginally mammalian in there, sir"... heartbreaking and hilarious. The themes – addiction, family, consumerism, entertainment. The straight up love of words. And it is dense and unforgiving to the reader but in such a way that is so rewarding in the end. It's not a book I am going to devour this time. I plan on savoring it this go around.

•••

My back started to peal on Thursday and hasn't stopped. Yes, it is disgusting. And it itches like hell. The sslowly flaking front line has finally reached the small of my back to the small injury I received during my 201 Musical Improv show. I have no idea why that tiny injury refused to heal right. Yet another silly minor scar with a silly story. (To go with (1) "That was from a vacuum cleaner while playing Ed Norton in a separatist-feminist version of Alcestis," (2) "That was from making clockwork awning for a theater," and (3) "That was when I cut myself with a bagel... no, not while cutting a bagel... I cut myself WITH a bagel.")

•••

Related confession: I really enjoy and am fascinated by the process of pealing long sheets of skin off my arms and legs.

•••

The complexity of age has crossed my mind lately. It's a hard thing to talk about. Age is relative but there are aspects of it that do affect you. You go through stages. They aren't clear cut but they are there. It's not about maturity. It's just about "stuff that happens." For example, before you turn thirty you might scoff at the idea of crossing that artificial mile marker. (I know I did.) "It means nothing. There is no greater difference between 29 and 30 than there is between 28 and 29 or 30 and 31." But when you are in it, late at night, reflecting back at life's pile of failure and regrets and looking forward at the diminishing amount of future available to you... it affects you. That is just one example. Explaining to someone what having a seven year relationship end in failure (even if you know that the relationship made you into the you you are now and you like that you and are glad you are that you and not another different you) will never quite be understood if they haven't experienced something similar. Empathy only goes so far. But it is hard to explain to people why age makes a difference without coming across as condescending.

•••

When asked my favorite part of the U.S. Constitution, I usually go with good ol' Amendment numero uno. I think there is a reason it was first. I don't hate the media and the press. Sure, they make me angry at times but I firmly believe that they are MASSIVELY important in this day and age. So my hackles were certainly raised by charges that the "left-wing biased media" were asking "unfair and mean" questions and Gov. Palin's past and record. You know what? You pick a basically unknown to be your candidate for Vice President a few scant days before your national convention (which, lets be fair, is just a four day commercial), it is the media's job to ask fucking questions. You didn't give them a whole lot of time to figure out what questions to start asking so they had to ask any ones that came up. Half the questions they asked were "So, how do Republicans at the convention feel about this thing?" And the answer they got was "We love it!" So, hey, Republicans? You got some mighty fine coverage last week. Enjoy it. You came out looking good... except when you were whining like little bitches that the media was attacking you. You make an off-the-wall "maverick" choice, well, guess the fuck what? People are going to try to figure out the whys, whats and whos. (I normally refrain from swearing here but sometimes it's called for.)

Also go listen to On The Media this week. I heart Brooke Gladstone and Bob Garfield so much.

•••

I do love good dramatic exit lines. I really appreciate people who want to make their lives like a movie, especially a smart movie. I do it all the time. I once gave the greatest speech of my life as an exit line. After she told me that we couldn't continue (or even get past the opening moments of) our starting relationship because in the past she always hurt people she loved and she could tell she was falling for me hard and she didn't want to hurt me, I just stood up, put on my shows and walk to the door... not saying a word. My had rested on the doorknob for three long breaths. I turned back to her. She was sitting on her couch, clutching a throw pillow to her chest. And I began to laugh slightly.

"You," I began, "are stupid. Not a stupid person because you are one of the smartest people I know. You are smart, funny, kind, entertaining, talented almost beyond measure... and, well, extremely sexy and beautiful. But, right now, at this moment, you are stupid. I couldn't care less about what you did in the past. I don't want to be with who you were in the past. I want to date the you right here in this room. And I'm not any of the men you have dated in the past. I am me. And we have something. You just said so. There is something between us that could be something incredibly special. But you want to run and hide behind your pillow because you are scared of the past and the future. Yes, you might hurt me. I might hurt you because god knows I've done that too. Yes, it may all end badly. Let's be fair. Most relationships do. But to not even try because you like me too much? That, [her name], is just plane stupid."*

And I smiled, opened the door, and walked out.

Great moment. But of course life isn't a movie. She didn't throw open her window and yell at me to come back. That's the problem with most well-crafted exit lines in the real world: the other person hasn't learned their part.

*As true as this event is, I am sure time and my ability to romanticize just about anything has tweaked some of the details in my memories.

•••

I made a milkshake today that was so super-delicious that I am filled with bliss.

•••

It is possible to be super jealous of someone and super happy for them at the same time. These are the times I think to myself, "Why am I giving them advice on this? Why don't I take my own advice sometimes and place myself in that position?"

•••

There is an up coming class that I really hope I get into. It's with a teacher I really want to continue with, working on a form I think I'd be really good at and that I'd learn tons from. I also have this issue/anxiety about advanced classes since I keep not getting to them. I don't seek out praise or confirmation but I'd like a shot at least. Again, if I don't get in, I will be super-jealous and super-happy for those that do.

Things I Learned This Labor Day

• The game show Press Your Luck liked to focus on the face of the loser, capturing some of the most honest moments of defeat I have ever witnessed. (thanks to Adam B. for reminding me)
• When you reach under the waves and grab a palm-sized rock and it turns out that the rock has legs, it is freaky.
• The Michael Jackson video Smooth Criminal is the alpha and the omega of music videos. Try this at home: Open it up in YouTube and set the volume on YouTube to zero. Select any other song. Play both (starting the video at anytime). Enjoy. Harry Belafonte's Banana Boat song is a great choice (again, thank you Adam B.).
• Cops can be heart breaking.
• I still suck at volleyball but I dive for balls with gusto.
• Sometimes sleep is a lot more important to me than fun.
• Any car game can be enhanced with making people tell honest truths about themselves.
• I still love root beer floats.

The Power of The Aaahrrrrrrttsss!

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more

The Del Close Marathon begins in earnest today but I have been doing it in spirit since Monday (as is clear by the DCM Body Counts). Last year I planed poorly and, while I saw a lot, I saw not nearly as much a I wanted to. So this year I am embracing it more, attempting to see things I don't get a chance to normally. Diving in and breathing deep.

Monday started with The Improvised Shakespeare Company (ISC) (more on that later), followed by Baby Wants Candy (which I follow with great interest because (1) some of my favorite performers are on it... although sadly one of my favorites was not performing on Monday), (2) of VEAL and studying the musical improv form(s) and (3) they are just darn fun). I capped Monday with Couples Skate. I've been really enjoying Couples Skate for the last few months, seeing improvisers doing things I don't normally get to see them do. I am finding that, seeing them in new contexts, allows me to see their individual talents better. That sounds horrible. I suppose I mean that it is easier to zero in on what makes specific performers so good and am able to say to myself, "Ah! I want to try that and I want to get better at that!" It sounds cold and analytical (which I certainly can get). It is also just a joy. On Monday Billy Merritt and Ellie Kemper did a set. I've missed seeing both of them.

Tuesday was basically a repeat of Monday. I had become entranced by ISC and wanted to see it again (I told you! More on that later!). It is rare that I yell out suggestions. I always feel a weird responsibility for the show when I do. If the show (for whatever reason) goes poorly I (irrationally) worry that my suggestion contributed to the failure. But I did get mine in for ISC on Tuesday (they ask for the name of the play they are to perform): The Three Laws of Asimov. Yeah, I'm kind of proud of that. That was followed by BWC again – for which I also gave the suggestion, although I pre-planned it a bit: H.G.Wells' Vegas! Vegas! Vegas! I have to say, I love that title. The night ended with Jammin' With Ralph which, to be honest, was a lot more enjoyable that most Ralphs I've been to. (I was brain dead and not much help in any of my scenes but I certainly enjoyed watching.)

Wednesday I had workshops from 3pm to 11pm. They were good. One reminded me how I want to open more doors and possibilities in my improv (and should be worrying less about dong it "right"), and the other helped me zero in on some very simple things make myself better. The night ended with karaoke. I got there so late so never got a song, but I had two very nice gin and tonics, danced with friends, and basically blew off some steam/energy that had been building up from sitting in chairs listening to others awe me.

Thursday started out with Sheer/McBrayer. As expected, it was brilliant. In particular their classroom during a sex ed class. No less than eleven characters performed by two actors. Just a wonderful example of how much you can get with simple character games. Then, I am slightly embarrassed to say, I saw ISC again. My plan to see as much new stuff as possible was being tossed out the window by my new found love. (Hold that thought.) The night end with I Got Next! which was just goofy and silly. I don't want him to get a swelled head and all, but David Bluvband showed me yet again what a powerhouse improviser he is. So good, so present in his scenes and in his characters. If nothing else, I am so glad to being doing improv right now so that I can watch him grow as a performer.

(Okay, I've gotten to my actual point now.)

Shakespeare obviously has me in its spell. I went to see it the first time because I love improv and I love Shakespeare, but I was half expecting something very gimmicky. "Oh, look! They are making for of Shakespeare plays. Ah, they found away to do a balcony scene between two lovers... but they are hip-hop kids. How clever." (Clever is a bit of an insult in improv circles.) But it is not that. It is certainly in the style of Shakespeare and poke fun at the conventions of it, but it is more in honor of it. Mad and crazy, sure... but also grounded in character first and foremost. Bawdy, physical, thoughtful, sweet, violent, heartbreaking, funny, sad, shocking... all the things that make Shakespeare great. And so smart... while being, well, silly and stupid.

After watching it three times, I am just starting to grasp some of the structure and "tricks." Suggestions of a play title followed by an introductory character soliloquy. It is there that we are given themes and broad setting. The broad structure is a narrative so nothing too complicated. At least three scenes of different characters and setting up of plot and then plowing a head to they end. On Monday they had a wonderful wonderful aside scene that related little to the plot but helped paint a bigger picture of the world.

The biggest thing that amazes is the language. First, they ease at which it pours from their mouths. Much of that must be practice. But it would be easy to make fun of the language. Certainly, humor does come up from it but rarely is it just a joke about the language. The humor comes from the wordplay... like god damn Shakespeare. Well, I love a good pun but they kill normal improv scenes (being "clever"). With Shakespeare it is beyond puns. It is metaphor. And that, I realize, is such a key. Every setting, object, action can be metaphor... and should be. If a character starts a scene as a maiden milking her cow, her hands are described as "milky white." If someone is throwing their zephyr into a river in preparation of taking their own life, they can wax about how a river is like a string of music, the zephyr notes floating away into nothingness... and this then becomes a metaphor for life itself. Setting inspires metaphor which inspires character which inspires plot which inspires action which inspires metaphor (or any combination). And in that, beautiful (and hilarious) language can form from seemingly nothing. It is not something you can get away with in most improv. A couple at the breakfast table in 2008 will rarely compare their children to eggs and bacon. And if they did, THAT becomes the game of the scene. In Shakespeare, metaphor is just part of the style that can inspire the game of the scene. (Of course, this does happen in normal improv... it is just often happening in the performers' heads. A breakfast of bacon and eggs is very different from oatmeal or from poptarts. Each informs/inspires the world of the characters and what types of people they are. But to do it blatantly and to let it fully inspire larger themes and ideas... oh, magic. I've been trying it around the house today... both easier and harder than one might think.)

Anywhozits, I must get ready for the long evening ahead. Long shower, back provisions, a bit of food shopping. It has begun to rain which is no fun at all considering my $5 umbrella is on its last legs, a poor protector from the elements. On this eve of revelry, the gods cry and thunder. In defiance of man's hubris of creation? For is that not what the improvised play does upon the stage? To form from the void of nothing new lives that live and die. And we as an audience sit and laugh at these divine like acts. Perhaps the goods are weeping tears of joy at the magic of their creations. For they created us and we in turn create ourselves. But that is neither here nor there. My wilting structure of portable shelter will do little to keep me dry of their tears. And I will enter the theater soaked to the very bone in their wet, be that wet of anger, sorrow or joy.

Yeah. I like it. I am taking a workshop in it tomorrow at noon. I am all atwitter.

Nice

(This post may either read as vain or as self-defacing. I honestly don't know.)

I realized today, during practice and then class and then talking after class, that I am in a very comfortable place with improv right now. Maybe that is not a good place to be, but it feels good. I am on two teams that I adore. I am confident in my ideas and instincts that I rarely get stuck in my head. I'm not scared to make moves out of fear that they'll fall flat. (I just assume that who whatever team I am on will support it and we'll make it work.) In the same token, I feel like I am out there on stage not for myself but for the people I'm playing with.

I also know I am not great. I'm decent. But I am also playing for myself and my team and not any outside judge. I don't have huge aspirations beyond just getting better. My desire to learn is huge right now and it feels like I am... and putting what I learn into practice.

Part of this is that I have this nice balance of receiving compliments (which I like). But I also don't feel like I am being told "Oh, yeah. You're about to become noticed/big/whatever" (which I'm not... because, let's be honest, there is no where really to go). I have desires and wants and dreams as far as improv but 90% of them are things that only I (and teammates) can make happen.

I don't feel like I am resting on my laurels but I also don't feel any pressure. It's nice.

Sing it!

After a weekend+ of Musical Improv, here is one last note:
If you have taken 301 Improv at UCB, you should take Eliza Skinner's 101 Musical Improv class. I plug this for selfish reasons. The more people who take it, the more classes they'll make available, the more advanced classes that will come up, the more I get to do stuff.

Do it.

Lessons Learned Recently

My instincts aren't always off.

It is easier for me to actually sing a song when I am playing a woman and that disturbs me.

I love the song Footloose just a bit too much.

The ice cream place down the street actually has good coffee.

I trust myself more than I trusted myself to.

Accepting compliments is much easier when you believe them... and sometimes believing them is just letting yourself be in the now.

1am Improv Quick Thoughts

Just two observations about seeing shows tonight.

The Brothers Hines is a perfect example of how much you can get from having characters with clear points of views/philosophies.

Hot Sauce is about Yes And-ing the shit out of everything. Step by step, yes and yes and.

Number Spirals

I have no idea what is going on but still fascinating.
Link.

Lessons of Oklahoma!

• It may seem like everything is going you way, but it's not.
• If you say you have a surrey with a fringe on top, you better damn well have a surrey with a fringe on top.
• Pornography is bad. Sometimes it could even kill you.
• Persians are sneaky, deceitful, and randy. But still okay.
• When confronting an arch-rival, why not try to convince him to commit suicide. You never know. It might work.
• Wolverine dances real pretty.
• If you are trying to make a not-so-tough choice and you inhale a special elixir, don't expect to get a real clear answer.
• In fact, it will probably put you to sleep out in a corn field. You will enter a horrible dream scape filled with prophetic images.
• Best not to trust anything branded as an elixir.
• To win the girl, sell everything you own at discount prices. Use the money to eat her pie.
• If your arch-rival tells to stick something in you eye, don't.
• To kill a farmer, you must become a farmer.
• Sure, cowmen and farmers can be friends. Especially when covering you murder.
• Oklahoma became a state due to enthusiastic spelling.

Why DOES that damn caged bird sing?

I am scared of singing.

It's true. I enjoy it. I enjoy it a lot. I do it constant around the house... when I'm alone. But in public? Big fear. I am not confident with my voice. I often suddenly find my self unable to pronounce even the simplest words. Any time I try to hum a popular song to someone it comes out as random discordant notes, like John Cage on lithium. In fact the whole Scott family is a bit infamous for not singing. Yes, I do not enjoy karaoke.

But I do like musical theater. It allows you to break so many of the conventions of "normal" theater. You can go from dead serious to wild camp in seconds. Emotions can be heightened way out of proportion. Slipping into an internal monologue is not only okay but expected. Music gets straight to musical core of things. You can gloss over subtlety. A character loves someone more that they love there own life? They can say that. They can say that over and over if it is in the chorus. And it isn't overblown or silly. It's frackin' moving.

So a while back I started to take a musical improv class with Eliza Skinner (of I Eat Pandas and many other swell things) at UCB. I was pretty sure I'd suck at it. I wasn't even sure I'd like it. Turns out I do like it. Enough that, when asked, I joined a musical improv team.

I had my first show with them last night. And it was magical. Audience get very excited by songs... especially improv ones. And as a performer, you get swept up in the song and your brain shuts down, and you just react in the moment.

I don't know how good I am. I am pretty good with structure. I commit to moments well. My actually singing goes all over the map. The notes I hear in my head rarely come out of my mouth. But that seems some what secondary. And it help that my team, Veal, rocks out on support.

Thing is, I totally burnt out on improv recently. I forgot the fun. I took a few weeks off, gave it a lot of thought, tried to put it all in perspective. Coming back, even after that short break, seems to have made me stop sweating the small stuff.

Yeah, that little bit was pretty cliché. But if I sang it....

Too much improv

I overloaded a bit this last week.

Class on Wednesday, show on Friday night, 3 person practice group Saturday, Thank You, Robot practice to day 12 to 3, and then a somewhat random practice group from 4 to 7 today. I had plans to go to a music think at 9pm, but that was apparently cancelled. Now I am wasting time in Starbucks before a thing at 10pm. (There is one persn out there that will admonish me for this evenings plans. Yeah, yeah. But my other plans fell through and if I just went home, I was going to be depressed. Better into the lions' den than to hide in the corner. Besides I'm feeling kind of strong.)

Anywhozits, I've had yet another brain switch with improv this weekend. Nothing huge, but I am seeingthings more three dimenstionally. Imagine that I have spent the last 2 months staring at a square. I've been staring and staring, and I feel I understand the sqaure in total but my hands just can't quite hold on to it. On Friday night I saw something strange about the square, something that didn't quite make sense. On Saturday, I was shown the other side ofthe square, the mirror image. It was disorienting at first to see this other square that was in fact the first square but entirely different. Today someone gently proded me to turn my head. And I suddenly saw that it wasn't a square at all. It's a damn cube! Now I can see three sides of the cube, some sides clearer than others. The sides are all part of the same object, all the sides are connected and rely on the others, but they are different. And I can only see three sides. There is another three I have never even seen (assuming that it is actually a cube and not some more complicated type of object... god forbid that it might be a four-dimenstional cube!).

Yes, stupid analogy, but that's as close I can get.

The novel continues apace. It took me much longer to getto the body than it should. I am going to have to cut a lot of my flashback stuff. The problem is that (1) the flashback stuff is easy to write because I can just expand on the first portion of Genesis, and (2) I have been thing about the flashback stuff for going on 15 years. Not all the time when I first became fascinated with the story of Lilith, Eve and Adam. I think back now to how one dimenstionally I used to think of the story. Ah, the heady days at college! The story means a lot more to me now... and no longer reads like a sensitive straight white boys rant against the patriarchy.

I just need to devote time to the "present" portion of the book. I got to the body too far in. The next thing is that I need to get to Eve. I've been riminating on her for awhile. She used to be so hard for me to concieve of. On the surface she seems so weak compared to Lilith's strength. But now she appeals to me. Both of them share a deep sadness, and their is a kinship bewteen the two. I have been thinking that Eve would only be in one scene, but I am thinking that she my come along for the investigation.

Adam is still dodging me. He needs to be there, he is very important, it is just hard for me to get past what a sheep he was/is. All of his choices seem so shallow and passive. I know that the hook is him as father. (Admit it, he has to be a crappy husband/lover.) His moment has to come from his love for his sons and his attempt to be a good father... and we know how that turned out.

There are some other major points I haven't quite figured out. Like who actually killed Cain. Yeah, the thing that the whole novel hinges on. Sigh.

Neil Gaiman (yes, two Gaiman mentions in one day) recently commented on finishing the first chapter to his new novel.

And today I finished writing Chapter One of The Graveyard Book, and it's a real book. I know it's a real book because there are all sorts of things I don't quite know yet, and I can't wait to find them out.

Happiness.

It's so nice to know that the feeling continues.

Envy

We had TY, Robot had practice yesterday. I had a good day. I'm starting to think simpler, cleaner. There are a bunch of skills that I am having trouble with (specifically specifics... man, I just suck at that and I know it would help so much). But in general my goal of not thinking so much is helping a lot.

Later, I went to see the class show of six in the group. They are good. Very good. On one level, I am envious of their class itself, as they are a darn talented group. But I am also envious of my teammates as performers. They were all fantastic yesterday. I've been feeling like the weak link lately. I don't say that as a bid for sympathy or as an invitation for "Oh, no, Six! That is not true!" True or not, it is a feeling I've had for the last month plus. I definitely have my strengths. For example, I think I'm pretty good at making connections. But my scene work has felt weak lately. Again, I'm not worried about it. I don't think I am blocked or at my peak. I am getting better everyday.

But I watched them yesterday and they rocked. And it crossed my mind, "Why can't I do that NOW?"