And We Shall March

Angry Mob

I don't have a digital camera, and I kept forgetting to borrow from buddies who do. This is why there are no pictures to share of the latest Glue Gun Girl adventures here at BGF Central. I can't tell you about one of them, but I can tell you about the other!

I made six torches! I already broke and repaired one of them. Raw materials were gathered from stuff here in the house and at the .99 store. Plastic shaft, loofah sponge, cork, styrofoam cups, burlap, thick twine rope and straight pins. I tried to make a version with a mechanical thingy inside that would use a hidden fish tank pump to agitate and recycle, but I lacked the time to figure out why the prototype wasn't working correctly and eventually abandoned that idea for now and went with the simplified approach instead. I'll keep working on that idea for next time around, though. I'm *sure* what I have in mind can be done. I just can't figure out why it's not working..

The only missing element, which I can't pick up until Friday afternoon, is the most crucial one. Because of the timing I'm not going to be able to do a dry run using these things until a couple of hours before they're put to live use. Eeep!

It will either be awesome, or a complete yet amusing fiasco. I CAN'T WAIT TO FIND OUT!!!

Oooo. We still need pitchforks. Hmm....

Just hit me that for the first time in forever I won't be trolling the LAT Festival of Books, and missing it is only bothering me a wee bit. Hmmm.... !!! I haven't had time to fly to the laundry and toss in the blacks and whites !!! I MEANT to find time, but I forgot! With the amount of ground work done this past weekend this is CRITICAL. What day is it? It takes two days for the bodice to dry, and three for the sleeves... Let me get the hell off the computer and heave off to the 24-hour drug dealer laundry place. CRAP. I'm gonna be running around DAMP this weekend. Damp blacks are NOT comfy. Idiot.

And Then A Miracle Happens

The alleged Starbucks down the street, 'alleged' because it's been a Myth for many, many years now, is real. I saw it for myself last night! They've got most of the interior set up, and a honkin' huge Starbucks sign. So, pretty soon there will be no more risking death and destruction 'neath bleary eyelids trying to steer three or four miles to the nearest Starbucks for the morning fix.

An actual Starbucks in my neighborhood. Holy, holy, holy.

Renaissance Faire Irwindale Second Weekend: BLOODLUST (Part 1)

To start, most of these pictures that were not emailed to me came from Richard, the guy formerly referred to as 'this guy', who runs Renaissancefaire.net. He travels all over the place to faires taking pictures to share and allowing people to use them, covering all the costs of this hobby himself. This isn't his job, it's his hobby. If you visit the site and use it regularly, note the PayPal link.

Okay! Back to Me.  Second weekend of show was WONDERFUL. I'm going to go out of order and talk about one element of Sunday only in this post. Maybe mid-week I'll throw up a post about what happened with the Anglican church service (featuring a real priest); the events surrounding Jesus' appearance over the weekend; doing a couple of gigs with the belly dancing tribe and the encounter with Shakespeare and the fairy queen. If I get lucky, by then I may have found some pictures to go along with that post. (However, I doubt I'll find picts of the church service procession, and I'll tell you why when I write that one.)

I'm also going to try a new way to post the photos with this one, but I won't know if it will work until this post goes up on Saturday (which I won't see until that night), so fingers crossed it works...

Sunday was Easter,  so there was a 9-foot-tall Easter Bunny wandering about the shire bringing the Happiness and candy to the children. When I learned there would be an Easter Bunny on site for the holiday, a pretty sparkle of glee went off on my head. I knew I'd have pretty much one gig on Easter Sunday - SEEK AND DESTROY THE EASTER BUNNY.

Technically, my character should not have been able to see the bunny, for the same reasons my character can't see the Fantasticals. But I decided being able to see and chase the bunny was more fun, and El Homo gave permission to go with it. Yaay!

***

As is the nature of improv, the bunny hunt involved no real planning. I figured I'll spend the entire day wandering about the site with a weapon of some sort while asking people - particularly children - if they've seen a huge bunny. If I ever spotted the bunny throughout the day, I'd attack it and find some way to lose the fight. For weapons I had 50-feet of twine rope that I picked up from the hardware store on the way home Saturday, and sometime Sunday afternoon it hit me to borrow the Hammer of Moon from court. Think of a meat tenderizing hammer. Now make it about four feet long and maybe 10 pounds. It's HUGE and very dramatic looking. I have no idea what they use the Hammer of Moon for in court, but it's the perfect thing to smash a 9-foot-tall bunny with.

I have yet to find any pictures of me with the hammer. If I do down the road I'll come back and edit this post. The only downside to the hammer was carrying it around for hours made my arms tired.

***

What I didn't anticipate is that very few people on cast actually tried to stop me. See the guy in yellow just behind my hat in this picture? That's the constable, who laughed but did not intervene. That sort of thing happened a lot. I thought someone should stop me because that looks less obvious than me throwing the fight. Plus, what happens if I forget myself and actually tear the bunny's head off in front of the children? I didn't find out until much later in the day that the person spotting the bunny was there to make sure the bunny didn't fall over something (inside that suit is extremely limited vision), and not to spend the day fending off attacks. From what I was told, I wasn't the only one hunting the bunny. Some of the people from Cuthberts and a squad from either the guard or the clan were also after it. If the bunny wearied of these constant attacks on her person all day long, she never showed it. She's one tough bunny!

***

So what I eventually started doing was if I saw the bunny and also spotted a nearby cast member who would make for a good hero, I'd ask for help. See the big guy wearing the red cloak behind the bunny's arm in the first picture? That's one of the people from the military guild who just happened to be walking by at this particular time. I told him I was about to attack the bunny and asked if he would please stop me, and he agreed, which you can see in the second picture. Sometimes I didn't have to ask. Earlier, over in Ives, one of the fools guild women grabbed my rope while I was trying to 'untangle' it and dragged me a few feet down the street away from the bunny. Over outside the FoF garden, after the bunny went and hid behind the Queen trying to get away from me, one of the FoF members came out and threw scones at me to chase me away. When I was doing the 'cartoon sneak' up to the bunny in the first set of pictures, I started swinging the rope over my head because a booth worker (I think she was a booth worker) whispered "lasso" to me as I went past. She said it a couple of times until I clued in, realized it was a great idea, and started swinging the rope over my head. That kind of thing, throw out the support right in the middle of it, is helpful and fills me with the warm fuzzies. It's like people have each other's back at show in order to make the whole work, upping the entertainment level for the crowd.

***

El Homo had told Susan, the woman inside the bunny, to haul off and hit me if needed and I'd do a pratfall. But I guess for the same reason I never attacked when the bunny was in direct contact with a child - nobody TRULY wants to traumatize the children - Susan decided not to ever throw a punch. Instead she counterattacked with tickles! Fabulous decision that still let the gig work but added humor without violence. I could be violent, but the Easter Bunny should not be violent.

***

As the day went on I realized the gig was working once I noticed the children were starting to lie to me! It was a hoot. I'd swoop down on them holding the hammer or the rope, ask if they say the bunny, and they'd look up at me with their hands brimming with candy they had just gotten from the Easter Bunny and swear up and down they had no idea what I was talking about. Sometimes they'd just chew and stare with steely silence. There were a couple of times when I knew the bunny was right behind me, and *still* they lied. It was adorable. One little boy in a Pink Floyd shirt early in the day said he'd help me find it. At the end of the day, when he turned on me, he said "they bunny gave me candy and you didn't give me anything, so I swiched sides." It was all I could do not to fall over laughing.

***

Like everything else, what happened at the end of the day wasn't planned. It came about mainly due to me once again not keeping track of time very well. I figured that since the bunny showed up at front gate to welcome the crowd when the show opened, then she'd probably return at show close to do the Easter Bunny equivalent of preach out. So I went over to Ives figuring I'd harass the bunny for a few minutes, embarass my auntie (that's her in the green) by having a screaming match over something or other, break something, and when the rest of The Elect arrived for preach out I'd join them to close out the day.

I get down to Ives and sure enough, there's the bunny. We go a couple of rounds. With the help of some of the kids and the security guards, all of whom turned Judas on me, I end up tied to a tree while the bunny dances around, taunting me. It was perfect! I figured I could just rest a little while and rant until my Brethren show up and rescue me.  That was the 'plan' anyway.

But it turns out it was earlier than I thought it was. Once I'm securely tied to the tree ranting about the invisible bunny and being slapped around by Andrew,  who do I see over his shoulder heading down the street? The queen! AND I CAN'T GET AWAY BECAUSE I'M SERIOUSLY TIED TO THIS TREE!

Turns out it was not as late in the day as I thought. It was slightly earlier in the day, and time for the Queen's visit to Ives. Oops.

***                                                                     

                                                                                                                                                                                                    Typically, my reaction to the queen is to get out of the way. This is because the queen makes me nervous.  I like to brawl on the sidelines over the right to bow to her first or to get the audience to shout inappropriate things at her as she's carried past because that's funny, but none of that involves directly engaging with her. The woman playing her is one of the top performers and my brain tends to freeze when she says anything directly to me besides "Recover" because I can't figure out what to say that might be entertaining and also not get me into trouble.  By 'trouble' I mean force me to engage at a level beyond Standard Puritan Insults And Violence, where I am on comfortable ground. (Though now that I think about it, I'm still not clear on just how far we're allowed to push it with the queen, save for You Do Not Ever Do Anything That Might Interfere With Her Schedule - EVER.) Also, that dress is worth several thousand dollars and I spill things, or tend to be covered with dirt due to the brawling. So for all those reasons I like to keep my distance.

Did I mention that the tree I was tied to was located DIRECTLY ACROSS from the tavern, where the queen sits down for her afternoon visit with Ives?  I remember saying the same thing to Andrew that I said to Shakespeare earlier that day, when I was trapped in another situation and had a momentary brain freeze..

Me:  Fuck! It's the queen! Shit! What do I do?!

Andrew:  I dunno. You're the one tied to a tree.

Then he laughed at me and stepped away. Pretty much what he meant by that was the same thing Shakespeare did earlier - go. Just go with it.

Since my goal for this year is to work to improve, when the Queen sat down, looked at me and Pronounced the equivalent of Puritan, why are you tied to that tree? I decided not to do a huge stage faint and remain fainted until her visit was over in order to rescue myself.

Instead, I answered her.

***

As you've noticed, I'm out of pictures.  This is too bad because I bet the pictures would better convey what happened. It was improv and I wasn't taking notes. In short, as the bunny pranced around taunting me -- invisible to the Queen, her handlers and all of the townspeople in Ives -- I raved and ranted and strained against my bonds to try and grab at it. I attempted to remind the queen about how she sat next to the giant bunny during joust that very day! I told her how she had ordered me to leave it alone just a few hours ago when it ran to her from protection! I told her about the starving children and how the bunny is many weeks of food! And so forth. Meanwhile the Queen denied ever seeing a thing, asked if perhaps I had some sort of fever and perhaps needed to be taken to Bedlam, and she never ONCE blinked as the giant bunny shook its rump in front of her and draped itself at her feet, like a giant bunny Marilyn Monroe. At one point Charles, pictured in a previous post, stepped over and started weeping in lamentation about my obvious turn toward madness, and I leaned on him and wept as well, still insisting that a giant mutant bunny was standing RIGHT THERE.

I don't know how long the whole gig went on for. (Because I was ordered by a certain someone to stop obsessive niggling, I *won't* get into everything I did wrong and what I should have thought of to say at the time.) It was fun despite my errors, and I think people enjoyed it.

The only thing I couldn't figure out was how to end it. Happily, the bunny took care of that! Since there's no eye contact possible due to the suit, what Susan did was pause facing me (the nonverbal equivalent of Make Eye Contact). Then the bunny spread arms wide and approached me slowly (as I screamed don't let it get me or something similar). Then the bunny gave me a big hug (as I screamed it burns! it burns). THEN I fainted.

Then bunny did something to make everybody laugh, but I don't know what it was because I was hanging limply with my eyes closed.

Charles and the big guy from Ives who is a teacher cut me free from the tree (thank you Jesus because the rope really hurt), and started to drag my body away. Meanwhile, my Auntie rushed over howling about how I had humiliated her once again. When she did that I perked back up and started screaming at her for blaming me when it was obviously the bunny's fault, forcing the men to pick me up, fling me over a shoulder like a sack, and drag me screaming and flailing off-set. I even tried to clutch onto the building frames just to make it more over the top.

What was hilarious? Just as I was being dragged away my brethren showed up on their way to  preach out! Perfect timing.

So! That's how I spent my Easter Sunday.

Caitlyn Carradine Is Dancing Up A Storm!

So, quite a while ago I told you of the wonderful show I saw about John Titor, the time traveler, performed by dancer Caitlyn Carradine. But what I failed to do since the calendar rolled over is let you know that her 2006 season started up two months ago, and you should get out there to the L.A.C.E. Theater to enjoy her shows.

It's because I have been beyond booked for months that I missed the first production. Because faire is up and running right now I am in all probability going to miss the current one, a reality which Greatly Annoys Me. But just because I can't go doesn't mean you can't!

Carradine's current production is called The Atomic Twist II: The Return of the Radioactive Turtle Soldier. For that title alone, I adore this woman. Here's the official blurb:

This weekend marks round two of the new show... 
About:
    Murder!
    Atomic experiments gone wrong!
    Dancing turtles!
    Mysterious twists!
    Business!
    Science!
    Math!
    Paper mache art!
    Psychic lipstick circles.... !!

Really.

Just this weekend and next! Oh, how time flies!

And remember..... reservations must be made 24 hours in advance!!!

THE ATOMIC TWIST II: THE RETURN OF THE RADIOACTIVE TURTLE SOLDIER

Two years ago one of four identical twin sisters was murdered in her laboratory by her Radioactive Turtle Soldier (RTS) - a creation for the government gone wrong. With the suspect still at large, one of the three remaining sisters has been murdered and all fingers point to the RTS, but as the title suggests... there's a TWIST!    ***Featuring the world famous 3-D Turtle Dance!***

April 15, 16, 22, 23, 29, & 30 @ 8 pm

You can help solve this murder mystery! Watch the show and enter the "Who-Dunnit" contest to win a great prize!

Tickets $10. Cash at the door, credit card on the website. 
   
Reservations required!!! (310) 589-9453 or  [email protected]

Doesn't that sound fantastic? It's dance and an interactive theatre! It's murder and black ops government projects and, need we point it out?? DANCING TURTLES.

This woman's talent is worth hauling out to Cal State University Channel Islands to take in a show. If you don't believe me, she has excerpts from real reviews from people who know what they're talking about you can look at. (My favorite is the one from the UN Weapons inspector.) The theater is located in the old Camarillo State Hospital. How can you pass up a chance to go on a pretty drive and visit a former madhouse? Exactly. You can't.

Caitlyn Carradine! Dancing! Entertaining! Emotionally moving! Being all renegade with the arts thing! You say you want to support indy arts in Los Angeles? Hel-lo. GO GO GO!

Anybody Else Think It's Time For Storm To Make With The Bridezilla?

I don't have anything to add, really, to what I've said already about the upcoming alleged wedding between Storm and Black Panther. But surfacing to scan for what I've missed this past couple of weeks, I come across an image so horrifying I can't even bring myself to snag it an upload it here. You can go find it for yourself if you're curious. It hurt my eyes too much. It makes my eyes BLEED.

Mary Jane at least got a nice dress done by a real designer. Storm gets something that I must say kinda fits that Marvel Whore of Babylon tag PTP came up with, done by a soap opera guy.

I haven't read an X-book in decades, so I have no idea what her personality is like in the current books. But I can't help but wonder if she'd truly tolerate a dress that hideous? Poor Storm. I guess that's what happens when you have a whole bunch of men, and not a single woman (let alone a black woman as if THAT needs to be said***) involved in the editorial stream - like, EVER.  Or I wonder if that dress is the result of Storm never really having a specific tribal identification (if memory serves), taking instead the Embrace The Continent approach. If she had a tribal identification the designer could have used that tribe's culture and textile traditions as springboard for coming up with Storm's wedding dress. With a continent as culturally diverse as Africa, if you do the pick a little from here and a little something else from there - and then mix it in with some soap opera guy's interpretation of Black Female Goddess - the only possible end result is A Whole LOT of Ugly.

And you know, I'm being REALLY generous, because it doesn't seem as if they picked a little bit of ANYTHING from Africa to design her dress. Looking at the soap opera guy's original design and comparing it to the comic book adaptation, there's fuck all in either of them implying a hint at/homage to/or even an attempt to recognize her or the Panther's African heritage. The textile traditions in Africa are rich and glorious. Corsets and gored skirts didn't come from Africa. Lingerie-style breast hugging fetish tops? Not from Africa. They could have done something more culturally appropriate with the tiered necklace, something less Goth ('cuz you know, the whole Goth thing? Not from Africa) and more tribal. But they decided not to, even though I've seen modern interpretations of the neck ornamentation I'm thinking of on sale down the street. And on top of her head, a delicate little jeweled Euro-style crown. DUDE, if EVER there was an excuse to break out with the Zulu hats, the precursor to the Crown, THIS IS IT.

Goodness. As I type, I'm getting more Annoyed. I'm going to have to go add a second tag to this post. And why am I going on about this, besides the fact that BGF Central is where I talk about whatever comes to mind at the moment of typing? Because these thoughts are the sort of analysis (term used loosely since really I'm just ranting) you will never see in any of the Run The Press Release news outlets that are the genre/comics press. And of the ones that do slightly more than run the press release, I doubt these thoughts would ever pop up. And we know why this is, don't we?

Please excuse me as you ponder that. I  have to go look at the picture again and fall over hysterically laughing. Then I'm going to go hit the message boards and laugh some more...

And no, I'm still mostly gone. This is just a brief surfacing. Your unanswered, non-emergency emails will remain unanswered for a wee bit longer.

*** Yes, Giggles, I hear you coming and I maintain that is not an unfair statement. Let's shortcut arguing about it again by cut/paste from our previous exchanges. I'm wicked busy and don't have time to come up with fresh approaches!

BREAKING NEWS - Want To Be In The 2007 Black Comic and Cartoon Art Calendar? Can You Meet A May 20, 2006 Deadline?

Sometimes I just steal things from other websites. This one comes from the East Coast Black Age of Comics Convention site.

***

Comic book historian, William H. Foster III, will be gathering art work for the proposed 2007 Black Comic and Cartoon Art Calendar at the Fifth Annual East Coast Black Age of Comics Convention (ECBACC 5) on May 20, 2006 in Philadelphia, PA. He is looking for artwork in full color, a standard 10 1/2" x 8 1/2" in a landscape format. If any artists would like to submit artwork on disc, please make sure it is a jpeg.

The deadline is the last day of ECBACC Saturday, May 20, 2006.

In addition to the calendar Foster is finalizing the plans to have a clearinghouse for black comics on his website. So anyone who is interested in having their books for sale on the website please bring samples of their work to convention for Foster to review.

For more information please email William Foster [email protected]

William H. Foster III, a long-time comic book collector and researcher, has been an expert commentator on the comic book industry for both CNN News and National Public Radio. Professor Foster was also a consultant to the 2004 exhibit, “Heroes, Heartthrobs and Horrors: Celebrating Connecticut’s Invention of the American Comic Book,” presented by the Connecticut Historical Society. Mr. Foster is the creator of a traveling educational exhibit on “The Changing Image of Blacks in Comics.” His latest book, Looking for a Face like Mine, was published by Fine Tooth Press in 2005.

***

Me again! I've only met Prof. Foster a couple of times, in the Hi!/Bye! way that is CCI. But even though he hardly knows me, he was generous enough with his time later to share thoughts to my then-unfocused thoughts on the In Defense of Ebony essay I have been alleged to have been writing for going on almost a year, now. He also offered more support/insight down the line when I'm ready for it. When they talk about that Each One Teach One thing? His generosity is an example of that.

So! If you're an artist, and fit the obvious criteria, and want to try and get in on this project, drop Prof. Foster a note. Do not drop ME a note. Drop PROF. FOSTER A NOTE. Conctact him, not me.

Renaissance Faire Irwindale (quickie): Looking At Myself, No Wonder The Children Started Lying To Me As The Day Went On

It is highly doubtful there will be posts this week until Saturday/Sunday, when I will give a round-up of events comprising the second weekend of the Renaissance Pleasure Faire of Southern California in Irwindale. Doubtful because me and a certain Civil War-era document have been seriously beating the shit out of each other for about a month now; we're up to 15,000 words and I can feel victory on the horizon and I cannot stop. Plus, the new Charles Saunders book arrived. Also there is laundry, baking and costume fixing to fit between now and Friday night. Thus, the BGF Central/general internet(s) radio silence continues.

When I return, I will explain the story behind these images, along with other stuff. By then, maybe I'll have been able to find some of the Jesus pictures as well. There were like, 50 cameras. SOMEBODY must have posted pictures of the Jesus encounter... But maybe I'm being too greedy. I had no clue this guy was near during one of the bunny hunts! I should be grateful just to have these and the other picts. Woo!

Short version of second weekend: AWESOME.

Slightly longer version of second weekend: Fucking Awesome, with massive props for the woman trapped inside of that bunny outfit. It had to have been blistering inside that thing, but she didn't show it. And  the way she communicated via body language  since there was no eye contact possible (Richard & Shelby taught us that eye contact is Rule 1 of  improv), helped this newbie so very much.

More on this come the weekend.*** I may or may not include a ramble about Teamwork/Got Your Back, which was (to me) evident at every level this weekend in many encounters and backstage. What hit me on the drive home on Sunday, while pondering the Words of Concern from El Homo, was  the concept of when you *know* that people got your back in the same way you are trying to have theirs. I have not had that sense of belonging/safe/trust since I left my previous career nearly three years ago, now. How odd to find it again, unexpectedly, at a thing I'm doing mostly for fun/to blow off steam/for personal development/as an excuse to run around in a nifty costume. I have to think about this more.

*** Remember, the posts that go up each weekend about show describe the events of the PREVIOUS weekend.

Renaissance Faire Irwindale: Opening Weekend

Of course, we start the day with a double dose of yoga before leaving the house. Then while on the road we recite our ritual litany for the length of the drive.

Odd thing on the road on that weekend - there was a car cut in half and surrounded by the usual suspects of emergency services on the highway on the way up, and on the way back on the same highway there was a car ON FIRE. Hmmm.

Opening weekend is all about getting the kinks out, figuring out the lay of the land (which is much bigger this year due to the expansion of the site) wondering what the hell happened to the cut throughs and trying to remember everybody's names. For me, it was also about shaking off the rust and working toward getting better, in this, my second year.

I don't know why it didn't hit me until just now that it's probably better visually to pitch FORWARD when swooning during our gateshow segment, rather than pitch backward. Forward is where the audience is! Note to self to do that this weekend and see how it works.

How to do this? I think I'll start with the stuff that worked or was awesome, and then quick hit the stuff that didn't go well.

Things That Made Me Go WOOO!

The Fantasticals! We were all a little vague on how we are to interact with them, even though we saw an impromptu thing during workshops, and they were the main thing I was most fretting about this year (after the shaving cream v. costume survival thing). They are the new faries, and the thing is we're not supposed to be able to see them. But until show opened, we didn't know what they were going to look like except for one was orange, one was blue and one was green. Also they would be moving slowly and with a sense of grace. So opening day, we had to keep an eye out for the three things we didn't know looked like in order to make sure we don't see them. Luckily, we knew where their main base was, and on opening day I lucked out and happened to spot them from a distance when I was stomping down the road. The clue was a clump of people standing in the middle of the street and the little kids with huge eyes looking all happy.

The trio they got to be the Fantasticals rock. They were *so* much fun and really creative. They have a quirky sense of humor and, even though they are not allowed to speak, they convey a lot of emotion and presence through their body language. They also came up with lots of things to do to mess with us. I only had a chance to get to their area a couple of times each day, but I'm going to see if I can get over there more this weekend. I have an idea! I'm going to show up with some rope, sit under a tree or maybe lay out on one of the tables, and take a 'nap'. We'll see what happens!

Turns out that it's a little more difficult than I thought to interact with something I'm not supposed to be able to see. To get around that what I'm doing is looking past them, rather than directly at them. Which is why until I hit the internet(s) and found these pictures, I wouldn't have been able to describe them to you in detail. Their outfits are phenomenal.

The Queen! During the progress, where the Queen is carried through town on a chair, SOMEBODY managed to get three customers to scream "how much does she weigh" as she moved past. heh heh heh. I won't tell you the answer the guards give, but it's a good one. Gonna see how many more times we can pull that off. Oops. I mean SOMEBODY can pull that off. Because the Puritans/evangelical Calvanists were really not too fond of the Queen, I'm trying to up the Just On The Edge of Treason thing with the crowds and with the other participants. I won't know if it's working though for a couple of weeks.

Danse Macabre is doing the lord's work! When a little girl saw the Danse troop coming and raced off behind her Mom in fear, I got there in time to explain, in character, that these people are doing Godly work by keeping the plague away. She didn't want to get the plague and have big huge puss filled pumps on her face and get eaten by rats, did she?! She told me she did not, and then she wasn't afraid and she joined me in prayer thanking God for the Danse. It was cool! Then I had to explain to her Mom that what I just said was actually true and one of the beliefs of the time. After which I chastised her for being half naked with exposed toes and ankles. It's cool to support another group and drop with the education now and then. The Danse is one of those groups where people have no concept of what it is, so they assume it's evil. Again with the loss of cultural memory. I'm going to make it a point during the entire run to try and shadow them for part of their rounds and make with the Allister Cook.

Lunch! One of the mongers showed up at lunch hosted by St. Cuthbert's and sat at the head table. Which meant I had to serve him, which of course meant I decided to serve him by glaring at him the entire time and occasionally giving him his food by throwing it at him. He gave energy back in the most hilarious way - big, innocent blinky eyes

Song! I learned a new period Calvanist song from the guy pictured here on the left. Like many European religious songs, it sounds like a dirge. How come my people - who suffered through slavery and such - came out of it with joyful religious songs, but all of the European songs are so depressing? I mean, what the hell do white people have to complain about when it comes to heaven? Even God is one of them according to all the pictures, so they're set, you know? Anyway, we're going to get the Lord Mayor, who is part of one of the singing groups at the show, to sing it at us so we can figure out the harmony. Then I hope to get a few of the other Elect to wander the site and bring on the Wrath.

Pelting! There were several peltings by the Friends of Faire group. This time they're using buns instead of shaving cream, thank goodness. What's fabulous is that people think the buns are rocks!! The one pelting I was part of was AWESOME. Todd and I were going to catch little girls dressed up as fairies and throw them in the lake. The FoF appeared like ninjas and threw buns at us to chase us away. Rock!

Breakable dishes! This year I'm also a part of St. Ives. They are the middle class townspeople who are based in the village set people go through when they walk through the gate. These people are wonderful! One of them is making a set of dishes for us to use each weekend. Watching the look on people's faces when we smash dishware on each other is worth getting up at 5;30 a.m. on a Sat/Sun. Those whores break me every single time, and the screaming matches with Aunt Phoebe? Priceless. Every week I'm going to find a new and wonderful way to humiliate her in front of royalty. Ives is also one of the areas where the people with actual skills are based. So one made blackwork for my shirt, there's a blacksmith, a potter, and a guy who knows all about period games. They also dance and sing. When the big one hits, these are the sort of people who are going to survive in the wilderness. Oh, there's a story behind the cup. You can't tell in this picture, though.

Rub! My rub gave me a poem and a hug, delivered by two giggly members of the Fools Court. It was cute! I didn't find out if the person to whom I am rub liked the gift. I hope so.

Science! I LOVE the Inventors Guild. LOVE LOVE LOVE them (except for the Traitor we're temporarily Shunning). I don't want to say too much about them here, though, because it would be spoilers. But if you come out and hear a bunch (or a couple) of people screaming GOD and SCIENCE at each other, come watch to see what happens. Chances are we won't know what's going to happen until it does! There were four gig encounters with them this weekend. One was scary because Shakespeare and Will Wood were involved, but I didn't realize that until it was too late to run away feeling Unworthy. (Shakes and Wood are among the best performers on site, which is why I tended to flee last year if I spotted them first. This year, the year of making Moiself improve, I'm not running away from them as often.) It turned out great! I think it did, anyway. I'll hunt down Shakes and ask him this weekend. One of the other encounters was a one word screaming match broken up by a customer who walked between us and commanded SCIENCE! It was fucking AWESOME.

Those damned Irish! They CHEATED. They used brownies to do a sneak conversion! God, it was funny. I am so weak...

Troll! Trying to get the people watching to troll to vote for setting him on fire or not setting him on fire was a lot of fun.

Favors! I got my first faire favor, which is squeal-worthy in its nifty, but I'm going to do one round-up about the favors at the end of show so I'm not going to detail it here.

Things That Made Me Go GRRR.

I am not as good at the full storytelling as David is. I know this, which is why I decided to challenge myself and do at least one storytelling at Braids for Maids one day each weekend. David is not here this year, and the BfM session he would do is legendary. He'd have people rolling in the aisle. It's a safe place to do a session because no one will come up and try to throw something at you or gig since it's a booth. On Saturday I went in and tried to tell a story about Jezebel and frippery and getting married. It wasn't very good at all. it was loud, but it wasn't very good. By end of show, my goal is to be able to do one good story without screwing it up.

When the audience gets drunk, they get grabby. So toward the end of the day you gotta be on your toes in a different way. Grrr.

"I got nothin'." This happens sometimes. You open your mouth and not a thing comes out. it happened to me a lot on Sunday. I don't know if that's due to having only had three hours of sleep the night before due to work stuff, or because I wasn't feeling well in general.

WHERE ARE MY HELL BLOOOMERS???? I am going to keep saying this until they show up! HELL BLOOMERS HELL BLOOMERS HELL BLOOMERS HELL BLOOMERS

Let down the team. I forgot to go loot and pray over the bodies at battle pageant. By the time I remembered and hauled over there, it was over and everybody who wasn't dead was heading off the battlefield. So I just berated the crowd, and later I was properly chastised by being forced to fill out paperwork.  (Using this picture because you can see the underwear lace on the pretty new hat discussed elsewhere.)

Let down the team, part two. I also forgot to show up for sweep BOTH days, because I was playing around in Ives. Ooops. This is weird because I enjoy doing sweep.

Dude, I'm backstage, now. Throw something at me when I'm backstage, starving, with a headache and fumbling due to nicotine cravings, and I WILL fucking kill you. Sometimes people have difficulty with the concept of On Set and Not On Set. I have no idea why this is.

Well, that's a wrap for opening weekend. This weekend's primary targets are those hussy belly dancers. They've got a huge family group and I didn't have a chance to do hardly anything with them opening weekend. So time to Stalk. My other main goals are more group gigs, trying to do a better story for the Braids, and not breaking down in a fit of giggles when the whores at the Bell start up. They broke me so bad on Saturday I should be ashamed of myself. And of course there are one or two Secret Things, which I am not going to mention here because they're Secret!

And a brawl or two. Ooooo yeeeees. A brawl or two.

Here's a good shot of the Jedipino!

And here's a good shot of some of the others in The Elect!

All pictures liberated from either Renaissance Faire dot Net or Your Faire Photos . I think. A couple of them were sent to me from buddies, but I forget which..

IMARO! IMARO! IMAROIMARO! By Charles Saunders!

It's 11:30 p.m., I just got home from work (had to go give a talk down in the O.C.), it's been a generally shitty week all around, I've got to be up in six hours if I'm to get to set on time tomorrow, I've got baking to do for tomorrow still, and based on what happened on the drive home tonight, four months of residual exhaustion is finally catching up.

Sleep. Now. Is what it comes down to.

But my copy of Imaro, by Charles Saunders, freshly delivered from Mysterious Galaxy, was sitting on the porch when I got home!!!!!

Maybe I can just read a wee bit. A tiny bit. About 45 mins worth of bit, tonight? And still get rolling on time in the morning?

Maybe when I explain that My Copy Of Imaro Arriving was far more important than the cookies and cupcakes promised all around this weekend, they will Understand and not kill me.

We'll see.

Imaro!

(The Gospel of Judas) Yeah...Now That I've Read It, I Would Have Edited It Out Of The Final Book, Too

No, I'm not back yet (as the vast pile of unanswered emails can attest). I just need to stash some stuff where it can be easily found. Don't want to lose it to the link stash on the hard drive.

It certainly makes for odd bedside reading. “The Gospel of Judas” isn’t actually a gospel by Judas, or, really, a gospel at all in the sense that we might expect: an account of the life of Jesus, from birth to death and rebirth. It is, instead, a mystical riff on a life already assumed to be familiar.

The disciples are furious at Jesus’ condescension, except for Judas, who thinks he knows what the laughter signifies. “I know who you are and where you have come from,” Judas says, standing before him. “You are from the immortal realm of Barbelo.” Apparently startled by his insight, Jesus tells Judas, “Step away from the others and I shall tell you the mysteries of the Kingdom.”

The true mystery, as Jesus unveils it, is that, out beyond the stars, there exists a divine, blessed realm, free of the materiality of this earthly one. This is the realm of Barbelo, a name that gnostics gave the celestial Mother, who lives there with, among others, her progeny, a good God awkwardly called the Self-Generated One. Jesus, it turns out, is not the son of the Old Testament God, whose retinue includes a rebellious creator known as Yaldabaoth, but an avatar of Adam’s third son, Seth. His mission is to show those lucky members of mankind who still have a “Sethian” spark the way back to the blessed realm. Jesus, we learn, was laughing at the disciples’ prayer because it was directed at their God, the Old Testament God, who is really no friend of mankind but, rather, the cause of its suffering.

What gives “The Gospel of Judas” a peculiar pathos is the sacrificial role that Judas must play in the divine story. Jesus is going back to Barbelo, and to get there he must “sacrifice the man that clothes me”; that is, his mortal body. The only way to do this is to accept his own death, and he urges Judas to become the agent of it. (Presumably, self-slaughter would not get him back.) But Judas has reason to worry that if he obeys his Lord he will be stuck with a bad reputation forever.