March 03, 2004
Playing the Fool
I thought of a new feature that I could incorporate from time to time. I pick a random object, or one is suggested to me, and I compare it to . . . life.
Life is like a yo-yo. Sometimes it seems to be at rest, and sometimes it seems to spin crazily out of control . . . it might even be about to hit the ground, but it's always under control, on a tether. And it just kind of goes in waves: up . . . down . . . up . . . down . . . You can try pulling weird tricks with it . . . walk the dog, around the world, rock the baby, split the atom, Buddha's revenge . . . Hmmm . . . maybe not that last one, so much. But I think you get the idea. The point is, whatever weird trick you're in the middle of, you're still just kind of going along . . . doing that whole life thing . . . tied to that tether. So, that's how life is like a yo-yo. Clearly. Tune in next time for something equally random . . . If I feel like it . . .
Anyway, so there I was in Shakespeare class and it was time to do the play. To make a long story short, it was mostly boring and painful. Most people can't act, or even read coherently, as I'm sure you all know. There were a surprising number of bright spots, I will admit . . . A lot more than you usually have in an average group of that size, certainly. But . . . no. It just doesn't work.
We also went outside under the bell tower to do this, and were consequently interrupted by the tolling every 15 minutes. And it was really really windy and my script wouldn't stay open right. But other than that, the location was much more pleasant than the usual classroom environment.
By far the most amusing occurence was that Dr. Batts stepped in to take the role of the King of France. Yeah. And, as a result, he wooed Cordelia with passion and sincerity. And I felt vaguely sorry for that one girl who was playing Cordelia, but it was too funny to really care. Good stuff, that.
And then I had my first scene, and went prancing out like a wildebeest on crack . . . so to speak. And I had that hat on, of course. And it was very silly indeed. And almost as noisy as the bell tower. And then I launched into my lines, and I believe I made everyone forget about the hat. That is not, of course, necessarily a good thing. I lisped in a highly exaggerated manner. And hopped around a bit. And behaved in a fashion that was just generally disturbing. I was rather glad that, for one of my two main scenes, I got to put the hat on Lear's head. Let him deal with it, says I.
And aside from that, I just sat around and tried not to pay too much attention. And once Cornwall finally died, I at least had someone to make fun of the play with, so that was good. And, although the play is not yet complete, I have spoken all of my lines. So I don't have to do anything next time. That just generally makes me happy.
And now it is time for Bode . . . Boy, is it ever . . .
Posted by Jared at March 3, 2004 04:45 PM | TrackBack