I'm sick again. I'm not sure why this happens, I should by all rights be a hale and hearty lad. I'd much prefer this stupid Chicago winter over. As I generally prefer most of them.
I found out this morning that I will no longer be playing Malcolm in Macbeth. The director, Richard, thinks I'd be better as Lennox. A worthwhile enough part I suppose. Richard assures me I'll actually have more stage time as Lennox, but it was never about stage time, it was about being the bloody king of Scotland who gets to make heroic speeches and stuff. Malcolm's character arc was "Bullshit, bullshit, my line, bullshit, I'm the King, end of play." Now I have to figure out Lennox's. Ah well...
The deaths of two of our last great literary truthtellers in little more than a week is most disheartening. I think there's a truthteller vacuum opening up and I'm not sure the living generations are quite up to filling it. Hunter S. Thompson, you should not have shot yourself in the head, you should have called me.
As his attorney, I advise the powers that be in any afterlife realm he may presently find himself that he has some very special needs. Please see to it that they are provided for.
A shoutout to the ever lovin' Twinters, who, shortly after returning to this American shore from a jaunt in Europe, was hit by a car, sustaining minor injuries. That's no way to welcome someone back, America.
When I wake up in the morning, or rather when I am in the nebulous state between wake and sleep, there are often words or phrases in my head left over from my dreams, which I don't much remember, words that my brain takes from their previous dream context and repeats, over and over. This morning the words were "Ratiocination" and "Many members of Monty Python were unsuccessful after the group broke up, such as Michael Dukakis"
In other news I just found out that I've been cast in Macbeth, to be directed by my Two Gentlemen and Hamlet co-star Richard Engling. I play Malcolm, the righteous prince of Scotland, beyotch. Going from Hamlet to Macbeth is exciting because they're like, the big two. If Shakespeare plays were Muppets, Hamlet and Macbeth would be Kermit and Fozzy.
In the immortal words of Jim Anchower: Hola amigos. I know itís been a long time since I rapped at ya, but things have been crazy. Blogging at work is harder to do than before. Busy job this is, though this is the time of year it starts to slow down.
So many things Iíve wanted to rant about that have no doubt been lost to the ages. And important events. Letís see what I can reconstruct.
My longtime associate Marc Heiden is temping at my job now. Thatís trippy. I was helping Marc move a couple of weeks ago and it made me think of Time Magazineís then current article bemoaning the number of twentysomethings who continue to live with their parents for a couple of years after college. ďRefusing to grow upĒ was the clucking consensus from our media elders. I was in this situation a little over a year ago, still have some friends who are. Itís a relief to have it explained that its our collective immaturity and ďhedonismĒ (because you can throw such great parties at mom and dadís house that you canít in your own place) and that it has nothing to do with the collapse of the industrial economy, stagnant wages, outsourcing, the increasingly educated workforce or any of those messy factual things. I was worried there for a minute.
I myself get to move to Lincoln Square in a few weeks, alongside my friend Reina. Lincoln Square is awesome. No Evanston or anything but I will be much less poor and wonít have to travel such great distances living there. My exile from Evanston is temporary however, like Macarthur and the Philippines. Macarthur returned when he had more soldiers, I will return when I haveÖmore money. And a car. Definitely a car.
Also, I passed the Latin correspondence course Iíve been technically taking since I think, summer of 2003, the last of my undergraduate degree requirements. I want to see if I can hire the guy who does the voice on Mortal Kombat to say ďLATIN 104-FATALITYĒ for me. So my college graduation is imminent. Nine years after the undergrad odyssey began. My friends tell me I should be happy and I am when I donít think too much about it. When I do think about it, itís like, well, kind of pathetic really.
Arthur Miller is dead. What I find extraordinary is not that Arthur Miller is dead, but that a week ago, Arthur Miller was alive. How easily we forget that giants walk the earthÖ
Hamlet is winding down, next weekend will be the last. I hope to be going down in a blaze of grave digging gloryÖ