I have what you might call a turbulent relationship with tequila. Lately. The Channu-rita. Man. I got problems, and they're blue murder.
I'm feeling something a little more un-challenging this week. This one's simple like Vixen, but not half as hot... I mean you serve it chi... ok, what? I'm four shots deep, and sometimes I just need to snuggle something that ain't too discriminating. I can't have layers?
Ingredients:
I am a firm believer in celebrating the holidays of all faiths, because why would I not extend my annual December Bender for a few weeks? Channukah is a fine damn holiday. It's about important... uh... spiritual... things. That I can't remember right now.
Ok, so Manischewitz may taste like Dimetapp and rat poison, right, but it's cheap as hell.
As everyone knows, you can't have a proper party without a cake. Not counting the kind of party that just needs a two-by-four, some rubber gloves, and a jar of vaseline, but it's been ages since... uh... yeah.
The following post is an informal analysis of the character Wild One in the play Raising Cane: A Family Portrait by Stephen Cedars, as it relates to my specific interpretation of the character. It is also to disprove that the character in question is a "wild child", that term referring to a child that is raised from a very young age with little to no human contact and is then assimilated into the society of a species of animal.
What’s a nice girl like you doing with a nasty play like this?
Funny how often this question comes up.
In rehearsal the other day, I had a moment of “wow, is this what I thought I’d be doing when I grew up?” as I watched an actor help another actor slam his head into the ground (all perfectly safe, of course) and debate how quickly the head slams should be repeated.
There is an interesting pattern to the names in Shakespeare's Hamlet, that we have given (more-than the intended?) meaning in Hamlet: Reframed.
The text of Hamlet does not provide a wealth of information on what kind of king or person Hamlet's father (Hamlet Sr) was. Additionally, we are so used to seeing the story from Hamlet's point of view that we end up with a potentially skewed perception of the old king. Shakespeare doesn't give us much to go on, and in our reframing we hear even less about him. What Shakespeare has given us is a rich political environment of a country in the midst of a change in leadership, resulting in a massive policy upheaval.
During the story of Hamlet, Denmark is going through some remarkable, yet subtle changes, as the regime shifts from Hamlet Sr.'s reign to Claudius'. One of the primary shifts is to a surveillance state. People are being watched, never as before. Claudius and Polonius (his spymaster?) keep their eye on everybody, not just on Hamlet.
Many people consider Hamlet to be the best play Western literature has produced. The play is praised for its philosophy, for the beauty of Hamlet's soliloquies, and great debates surround issues of Hamlet's madness, his action or inaction, and his sifting illusion from reality. Why, then, do we choose to de-emphasize these elements in presenting Hamlet: Reframed, to cut the soliloquies and the philosophizing?
Any modern production of Hamlet needs to navigate three separate rules of succession. The way we, especially as Americans, imagine the laws of succession today differs greatly from the Elizabethan view, which is itself removed from the rules of the story's Danish origin.
21st Century America
