-Sorry it's been so long. Sometimes the world makes too difficult for me to compose my thoughts. Between gay bashings, gay torturings, Obama's idiocy regarding DOMA and DADT, Carl Paladino's iciocy, a brief bout with a seasonal cold, and what might be a touch of early seasonal-affective disorder or plain old creative comedown, I have felt too spread out to make any real sense.
-We saw La Bête on Broadway, which starred a very underused David Hyde Pierce and Joanna Lumley, being steamrolled over by the very good, but very exhausting and not particularly specifically-memorable, Mark Rylance. All the performances are quite lovely, but they are, sadly, weighted down by this play that, well, I just didn't want any part of after fifteen minutes. In writing circles, we might say "I am not the audience for this work."
-Delores Van Cartier, which is the name of the lounge-singer in disguise played by Whoopi Goldberg in "Sister Act," is the best name I've heard in a while.
-Is Sister Act ever really coming to Broadway?
-I found it fascinating that there was press regarding the fact that Jonathan Franzen's fantastic novel "Freedom" was not nominated for the National Book Award. (I found the book to be wholly-engrossing, purely pleasurable, and carefully, wisely written. Pretty fucking fantastic.) It was as if people couldn't stop talking about how they are ready to stop talking about it.
-Does anybody still order transcripts from television talk shows?
-Kip is sitting next to me on the couch, making us a White Tree of Gondor from aluminum armature and sculpey. I am the luckiest guy in the universe.
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2 comments:
Sister Act is, in fact, slated for Broadway in 2011 (or maybe 2012). But, keep in mind that they announce these things and then, four years later, you're like, "Hey! I know I read about that on Playbill or Broadway.com, and still that revival of 'Dreamgirls' with Frenchie Davis still hasn't shown up.
Well, it's not Frenchie's fault. It's because Theater People (caps intentional) are flakey as all fuck.
Also, you're lucky b/c Kip's on the couch, but WE'RE lucky, 'cuz you're down the block from us.
Stay lovely.
I have the Franzen book staring me in the face, demanding me to read him, scoffing at me for walking past, and I haven't because I want this book to be as fucking fantastic as you say it is and wishing people would shut up about how they don't think they should like it but they do. I also have the new N. Krauss signed first on its way from Powell's in a couple of weeks, and the new M. Goldberg one in processing at work. Then I got wrapped up in The Tipping Point after hearing Gladwell speak last week, and the @#$% book club book's chapters 4-6 will be discussed next week, and I haven't read those yet. I hope to satisfy my Franzen craving soon. I also hope your reading and Kip's brilliance can help you through the gay bashings, suicides, and public clamor for what some idiots misconstrue as the American way of life. You are, indeed, lucky, and so am I. Love.
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