20020829

Existence

When will you accept your life (the one that you hate)?
Every day, you must say, 'Oh, how do I feel about my shoes?
They make me feel awkward and plain.
How dearly I would love to kick with the fray ...'
Anything is hard to find, when you will not open your eyes,
When will you accept yourself, for Heaven's sake?

The Smiths, 'Accept Yourself'

You're not what you think you could be. You're not what you will be. You can't pretend to be what you are, let alone pretend to yourself that you're only pretending to be what you are. You can only exist. If you believe that you're not as you appear to others, you're wrong. In fact, you are as you are and only pretend to yourself that you're not.

I can't really comment on how I fit into to any of the farcical equations above. I can only say that sometimes I wish my actions would speak louder than my words.

This post was written yesterday at ten o'clock in the morning. My state of mind has changed since then.

20020826

Into the Pit of Hades

Eurydice, Orfeo!
She, by poison has perished!
He, by sorrow was stricken!
Alas, both lifeless.


My updates are becoming more infrequent, it's true - but I defy anyone to tell me this is due to a lack of inspiration. Anyway, I'd be a poor logger indeed if I didn't review my very own Night at the Opera. Actually, it bore very little resemblance to the eponymous Marx Brothers movie (as a side note, that will be the second time this year I've used the word 'eponymous', and it's one of those words that doesn't bear regular usage well at all).

The singing: not bad. Rather good, even. I was a little underwhelmed until the first chorus, but there's something quite impressive about a room scattered to the brim with people in silly-looking peasant outfits breaking into perfect, tuneful song. Of the leads, I've been told the chap playing Orfeo was suboptimal - but I thought he was good, and he certainly came into his own in the second half, belting out 'Give me back my love!' with gusto. The supporting roles were of varying quality - the boatman was amusingly hammy, Hades had all the presence of a cooked carrot, and kudos must surely go to the bearded companion of Orfeo (not the little blond one, but the larger brown-haired fellow) for managing some very realistic tears upon the death of Eurydice.

Was guiltily amused to discover that Rae had been discomfited by the coconut-infused smoke machine of the second half ('That is so you!' I couldn't help thinking). Personally thought the smoke added well to the atmosphere and was a bit of fun. Can't justify the random psychological malfunction that disposes me to blame the person for having the allergy, though. Sorry, Rae: hope you can find the iota of generosity in your heart which will pay for my forgiveness.

The best thing about the production was that all the cast looked like they were having a terrific time doing it. I couldn't help noticing people firing quick grins across the stage during some of the more ludicrous moments. Surely it's enough to recommend this centuries-old piece of art that it can still please in the performance after all this time?

Gripe one: my first thought of the evening was that Orfeo looked rather goofy. Everyone else's first thought, apparently, was that he looked like me. Unsurprisingly, I found this a bit irritating. Gripe two: everyone else was better dressed than I was. When did I become such a poor cousin?

Random

Aaron: Superman by Five for Fighting is an abysmal song. I can't convey how much I dislike it. So trite it is that it makes Noddy look iconoclastic. I hope you don't angst to that song, the very thought makes me want to vomit. Sorry.

Max: stop listening to your desk, it'll break you. Those things are cleverer than you think.

Jen: I'm amazed you still think the random things I say while watching UCC lose are worthy of repetition. But it's quite flattering, no? Take it easy.

Rae: It's all your fault that you're allergic to coconut.

Adam: Half a moku! In your face, loser.

Pam: if every performance of Orfeo goes as well as the one I saw, you'll be the toast of the town. Parents firming on the possibility of attending on Thursday night, so you'll have a crowd of at least two.

Steph and Davy: bit short on updates lately. What's the story?

That'll do for salutes for now. You'll see me again when I have something interesting to say.

Burst into heaven,
Kiss in the cotton clouds,
Arctic sheets and fields of wheat,
I can't stop coming down ...

The Stone Roses, 'Elephant Stone'