I have this theory that if there's something mindless and boring that you're dreading having to do then the best time to do it is in the morning. You're too tired to object, to brain dead to find an excuse, and just physically able enough to get the job done. Case in point: this blog. I am having way to many typos right now, like a clumsy zombie hammering away at the keyboard - but for this assignment you see, its volume not content that counts. Also this little tricky theory of mine has the added benefit of the work being nearly forgotten by the afternoon when full consciousness arrives. Much to your delight, it seems then that fairies, or some other benevolent magical being (God?), has snuck in and fixed things for you. A great great way to go about getting shit done.
Now that Zombie-morning Sally has spewed her intended point, with nothing else planned out and sitting before her wan body, I fear that the rest of this post will quickly go down hill.
So a few minutes ago I swear I had a dream where we performed the Bacchae as a musical. Same dialogue for the most part, only sung, with full orchestration. I'm not sure where the orchestra was hiding though, we were sill performing in the ACC theatre you see. It's much to small for a full broadway production... I'm so ignorant when it comes to theatre - what do I know? They could have been in the seats! What a hoot that would have been. When Arthur stopped the show (something he did very often in this dream, much to my dismay, we apparently couldn't keep the new format agoin') he spoke normally but the audience answered him in full harmony! That was a pretty height point in the film, especially since they were insulting us. It takes balls to insult people on stage to their face and I'm sure it wasn't an easy task to assign the parts either. Some people (myself included) have that one set part they really want to sing, no matter if their voices cant fully reach it, no matter if when they try to sing it children cry, no matter! They'll fight for their right tooth and nail till death do we part.
It was a really awful dream. I fell on my face a lot in it, and was told to act prettier. Eh. The singing was totally cool. "...Where in the wild wood didst thou tame? Kithaeron! Kithaeron! Mountain! By whose hand did he fall?...."
- The Twenty-ninth: Is It True?
- The Twenty-eighth: Revelation, or Something
- The Twenty-seventh: Regal Red
- The Twenty Sixth: The Limits of Performance
- The Twenty Fifth: Sexist Language
- The Twenty Fourth: Sunday
- The Twenty Third: Thank You James
- The Twenty Second: Intentional Communities
- The Twenty First: From the Other Side
- The Twentieth: My God Only Hours Left
- The Ninteenth: Lil' Houses for Big People II
- The Eighteenth: Lil' Houses for Big People
- The Seventeenth: Good Morning
- The Sixteenth: Not the Intended One
- The Fifteenth: Frustration
- The Fourteenth
- The Thirteenth: Boo!
- The Twelfth: Walden
- The Eleventh: Slightly More Awake
- The Tenth: Not Fully Awake
- The Ninth: A Milestone
- ▼ December (21)