I have a grand opportunity in September. I get to participate in one of Stage West’s Storyteller series. Stage West is a local theatre that is recognized world wide for its programming and performances. I am to read one of my own creations. I have no idea what I’m going to do. It is my understanding that each storyteller will have about 30 mintues and that any topic is fair game. I am thinking about reading the first chapter of Circumstance, which I swear is almost ready, except Charlotte Bronte keeps telling me I need to rework the first few pages. I know that most people expect a little wackiness from me (I have no idea why.), so I am considering a follow up piece to “Watch My head” entitled, “I watched my head, or I had a stroke, not a lobotomy” Which brings me to WIP. WIP Stands for Work In Progress. This may be the perfect forum in which to work out the final pieces of my theory, in a tongue in cheek way. I realize that not everyone will find the humor in my proving the case for own on death and afterlife, and may just get me committed. However, it is possible that everything will Poof out of existence as I go on to the next stage of either purgatory, paradise, perhaps places parsiminous. ( I love alliteration in the summer!) In a world where E.L. James contiues to milk money out of a numb public of lazy readers by churning out yet another book in this ouevre of fan faction masquerading as new literature by releasing Grey. (For some reason, V.C. Andrews’ treatment of the Dollanganger family doesnt’ bother me so much. Althought I am VERY bothered by the fact that Petals on the Wind and Flowers in The Attic both have AR tests that students can take for points. And I do realize I used three dairy realated allusions in row. I miss Blue Bell.) Anyway, yesterday, my family and I all went to see Jurassic World.
I am not a huge fan of Michael Crichton. (To be honest, his treatment of logic in his book “Sphere” literally made me hopping mad. Seriously, if you are creating your own reality, you should at least be consistent within that realty.This may be a clue for furture reference.) But, my dad really wanted to see this as did my mother and it was Father’s Day and since my family rarely agrees on anything, it seemed like a good idea not to trot out my grievances with Mike. I did have foreknowledge of the assumptions one would have to make prior to seeing the movie, so that was very helpful.
I enjoyed the movie for the things it was. It was large and colorful and definitely nothing you could do on stage and on a small scale. I thought it was very Greek in terms of entertainment. There was Hubris and Tragic Heroism all over the place. It did get a little Schmaltzy, so I guess you could say it covered the spectrum of theartre history.
But there was a moment of revelation for me. As you may recall, I had the fun and delightful expereince of a lockdown with a room full of adolescents who could not grasp the concept of danger. In the movie (and I’m certain this isn’t a spoiler alert) there were several instances of characters who were quite casual literally in the face of scaly, drooly danger.
I think it is indicative of the state of our society as a whole. For some reason,extreme peril doesn’t seem to compute. Or process. I know that I have the ability to distance myself from the realities of danger, but that’s because stupid crap happens to me all the time; I’m used to it. I think in a world where combat and general violence is all too commonplace we are losing are ability to freak out.
Maybe that’s why we are so willing to five E. L. James a career.
And we’re back.