No, I have not abandoned my beloved blog. I am punishing myself by not prancing around here until I get certain huge writerly things for other people THAT MUST BE DONE GODDAMMIT END MY TORMENT AND GET THEM DONE all done. Two of them are done! Two more to go!
The blog takes more effort than the randomness of Twitter, so I figured de-blogging a bit would help me get THE OTHER THINGS THAT MUST BE DONE done. It's sort of worked! So has the lurking fear that Goonan will get on a plane and come to my house and glare at me sternly while going through my laptop for manuscripts to take away if I don't GET THESE FUCKING THINGS DONE already.
When I do return to my blog -And! I! Will! - will have Stuff that is New And Shiny and some of it Ranty and there will be pictures. I can't wait!
Until then, please enjoy this fabulously hysterical video I did not know existed until two days ago, created by The Mountain Goats, a band I did not know existed until about a year ago and now am on a quest to get everything he/they have ever done. Which, I'm lead to understand, is quite a lot. **
** For those of you who saw In Transit, or perhaps caught me performing a version of it at The Moth, this is the "odd little yelpy guy" I was talking about in the closing story. Seriously, this guy's work is magnificent.
Continuing with the using of videos as filler thing as I work behind the scenes on getting real content in shape for posting. Sweet Honey in the Rock is one of my fave vocal groups on the planet.*** I've only seen them perform once in person, and will always remember it.
*** A selection from my other fave ever group/band/whatevs here, and another especially here ... the latter of which apparently was written without any knowledge of Me or James ... which is weird only if you deny the general Indifference of the universe and the concept of Sounding ... because 'fair' is not a concept the Universe pays any mind to, what with being busy elsewhere ... and Sounding is one of the many Invented Things created to help Deal with that Truth.
I've turned a lot of my friends onto Slog*** (and, for those who are fellow former j-buiz folks, onto its master site The Stranger). Slog is the group blog run by people who work at The Stranger, a roiling democratic space with entries from everybody from the Unpaid Intern to Dan Savage. I greatly enjoy the work of several of the writers there, though it's possible I'm the only one who also appreciates the work of Charles Mudede, whom so many Slog readers trash for reasons I can't figure out. Maybe he's too black, too big-picture sedate, and too I Don't Give A Fuck for the demographic that is Seattle? Ooo, was that my inside voice?
Every once in a while the staff members fight with each other via the newspaper's blog (West v. Savage re: fat people comes immediately to mind); there have been cupcake wars there; attempts to Guess The Messy Desk; many delightful pranks; and what I have come to call the Gloriously Surreal It's The Holidays And One Poor Bastard Is Left Behind To Run The Place. I look forward to the latter every holiday. I refuse to let my suspicion that those entries are mostly fiction get in the way of the bonus entertainment value that comes with taking it on faith that those entries are real.
I love the widely-roaming nature of Slog because it's random, informative and often hilarious. Slog is also one of the precious few internet(s) spaces where I will actually read comments threads, because of the quality of those comments. Generally.
Today, Slog brought to me this video below. Here's a cut/paste of the chatter that accompanied it that blog post:
Speaking of death and girls who just want to have fun, today brings the anniversary of the death of Robert Hazard, the American singer/songwriter who passed away in 2008. Here's his invaluable contribution to American culture (which you know and love and but maybe didn't know he wrote).
OMG I HAD NO IDEA. The meaning of the song changes in this original. Hmm. Admit that I also like the slightly more punk/raw approach. (Which is not saying I don't love Lauper's version, but it's like the difference between the original I Will Always Love You and the I Will Always Love You you're most likely familiar with. Same words. Not the same song.)
*** It's best that I do not share how I pitch Slog to them. Based on the responses to the pitch? I am completely right! Which is why I said it to begin with. Heh.
This is a backstage moment from a production of The Scottsboro Boys, a play using the format of the traditional minstrel show, complete with blackface at the end, to comment on modern day events.
During the play, the two guys in the tails take on the Office of Tambo & Bones, and the white guy seen at the end takes on the Office of Interlocutor. These are very important Offices in the structure of a traditional minstrel play. I'm mentioning this in a helpful guide sort of way.
Last year it killed me that I not yet the sort of person who can afford to get on a plane and fly to NYC to see a Broadway show at the drop of a hat. The show is now on tour, rumors are that it will hit the west coast, and I'm already scheming Broke People Figure Out How To Do Things All The Time ways to be in an audience if this comes anywhere near LA.
I must to see this play. I must to see this play. OMG I must figure out a way to see this play if it comes anywhere near me. I want to see it even though I'm afraid I'll end up sobbing wildly in the theater, unable to get out of my seat and thus blocking the exit for other people in my row, as happened when I went to see The Ballad of Emmet Till at the Fountain and ended up being comforted in the arms of what turned out to be that play's director which was so so very embarassing because that is a woman creator I revere and the first time I manage to meet her is in a moment of weakness curled in her arms as she told me It Will Be Okay? OMG. Once I got my shit together, I basically fled from the theater, past the cast assembled on the sidewalk to talk to folks, past her standing there to do the same, and to the car I had at the time for the sanctuary that is Home.
Which you probably don't care about, but I Know Myself, and I have a pretty good idea of what will happen if I manage to see see this play about the Scottsboro Boys which uses minstrelsy to tell the story.
Anyhoo.
I like this backstage moment for a bunch of reasons, the biggest one being that you hear stories of what actors in an ensemble play do to bring themselves into the same emotional space before they throw down live in front of us, but you rarely get to see it. Watch the video - that's what's happening in the clip. These men are about to go onstage to do something enormously difficult at many levels due to the content of this play, its historical landscape, and its format, and they are checking in with each other first. They are creating the Group Mind, and they are feeling it. That's what you're seeing hapen. It is amazing. Normally we don't get to see this.
(If you don't know what the Scottboro Boys case is about, or understand why using that particular case as base for a traditional minstrel show is an issue of Stratospheric Controversy, please don't ever talk to me again because at this moment of typing my tolerance for America 101-level discussions is lacking. I might get back to my normally Mostly Tolerant self next week though, so check in then!)
I can't remember if I've tried to explain the concept of Sounding here before. Let's assume I have, and you then understand this. But as I know only maybe five people reading get Sounding? I apologize for confusing the rest of you.
Regular missives will commence after our return from Geek Vegas. And by "regular missives" I mean, you know, when I get around to it upon return.
