Bad news for some people out there--especially my roommates. Saturday is already sold out for UD Monologues. Sorry. I didn't expect it to fill up.
Which means either start the crunk for Beard's birthday a little late, or come Thursday at 11. But if you can't make it at all, that's okay. I won't hold it against you.
Looks like Brad, Joe and I will be playing the Battle of the Bands this year. Brad and I discussed the possibility of he and Joe writing new songs to perform for it, which I would have to learn on the fly, probably the night before. I like that idea. I'm a little tired of our old songs. Christ, they're three or four years old, or more.
I'm writing an opinion for Flyer News. I'm not sure when they'll need it, but I'm on the opinions section staff now, apparently. I'm excited.
Here's how it starts:
It can be difficult to admit you’re wrong.
But now is the time.
In fact, 141 years ago would have been the perfect time.
White people of America, it’s past time to admit that we owe black Americans for years of enslavement, followed by years of segregation and discrimination.
I feel I hardly need to prove that African-Americans are disadvantaged economically. Twenty percent are without health insurance, according to 2004 statistics, compared to 11.3 percent of non-Hispanic whites. The median income of black households, $30,134, is only 62 percent that of non-Hispanic white households, $48,977. Black households own their homes 48 percent of the time, while the rate for whites is 75.7 percent.
Critics might complain that there is no way to know that slavery is the ultimate cause of this economic disparity. I would argue that the cause is not nearly as important as the solution. Don’t you help someone up, even if you didn’t cause them to fall?
Still, for the sake of argument, let’s find out if blacks as a race had a chance to escape the disadvantages of slavery.
Following the Civil War, outright discrimination in the laws of the South prevented the political and social advancement of African-Americans.
Could African-American children hope for a fair education in segregated schools? Those that departed for the North discovered the wage slavery of factories
The purpose here is not to evoke pity for the ancestors of American blacks. The purpose is to demonstrate that black people have been continually denied opportunities since they were brought here through the trans-Atlantic slave trade.
My only regret is that reparations won’t solve the problems of poor whites, or poor members of other races. I suppose socialism can be left for another article.
Those big gaps indicate that I need to put things in there. I guess that might be obvious. Anyway, it's about 3/5 done, and I like it so far.
One day I'll get around to e-mailing Vonnegut's publishing house. I've just been...or felt...busy.
Okay that's all for today. Let me know what you think of that article.
Love,
Steve
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Crazy as it sounds, I do have opinions.
Hello, friends.
Nothing to tell you today. Come to Full Circle this weekend, it should be awesome. Tonight at 11, Friday and Saturday at 8.
Here's something new: I'm considering quitting the news section of the newspaper, and writing for the opinions section. Que piensan ustedes? Leave a comment.
Love,
Steve
Nothing to tell you today. Come to Full Circle this weekend, it should be awesome. Tonight at 11, Friday and Saturday at 8.
Here's something new: I'm considering quitting the news section of the newspaper, and writing for the opinions section. Que piensan ustedes? Leave a comment.
Love,
Steve
Monday, February 13, 2006
I have a new game that I like.
I wish I had a miniature green dragon face to depict my current mood. If I did, the dragon would likely be looking all thoughtful, and the caption under his face would say, I don't know, "thoughtful."
Or maybe it would be "really loves cookies." Because these cookies are just fucking delicious.
Here are the usual updates:
Vonnegut interview: no response. I'm going to write them an e-mail, maybe tomorrow.
Full Circle: I have lots of it memorized. I hardly needed to call for lines today.
UD Monologues: not exactly memorized. It's still in about two weeks, though.
Summer study abroad in Chile: deposit due tomorrow.
Classes: still taking a back seat.
Life lessons: piling up so fast I can hardly comprehend them.
Today I think I'm going to play a game on the blog. I'll post a picture, and you guess what word I Google-searched to get that picture. I'll use pictures only from the first page of results, and I'll only search one or maybe two closely related words. Good luck!
1.
Or maybe it would be "really loves cookies." Because these cookies are just fucking delicious.
Here are the usual updates:
Vonnegut interview: no response. I'm going to write them an e-mail, maybe tomorrow.
Full Circle: I have lots of it memorized. I hardly needed to call for lines today.
UD Monologues: not exactly memorized. It's still in about two weeks, though.
Summer study abroad in Chile: deposit due tomorrow.
Classes: still taking a back seat.
Life lessons: piling up so fast I can hardly comprehend them.
Today I think I'm going to play a game on the blog. I'll post a picture, and you guess what word I Google-searched to get that picture. I'll use pictures only from the first page of results, and I'll only search one or maybe two closely related words. Good luck!
1.
Easy one, right? I think so.
Moving on:
2.
3.
4.
Okay, that's a really hard one. I think, at least.
One more?
5.
This game is fun.
Those desperate for the search terms I used can fucking relax. I'll post them next time I post.
Enjoy. Make your guesses as comments, please.
Love,
Steve
Sunday, February 12, 2006
I wish it was a literal battle rather than a battle of musical skill. If it were, I'd choose Tony with my first pick.
Okay, I'm not quite keeping with my goal of posting every day. But not bad.
Monologue Night is now officially over. It went really well, I think. I had forgotten how much fun performing is. Or I should say "can be." I'm a fast fast dog.
I've got Full Circle pretty well memorized, I'd say, but I'm behind on UD Monologues. So it goes.
I just got an IM from my friend Mark Kannen. He sent me www.cnn.com. Word on the street is Dick Chaney just shot a guy. That makes me laugh.
The story is, they were hunting, and old Dick really wanted to bag a quail, and he shot his friend, a lawyer.
That really is a shame. I'd imagine the bird got away free, too.
In other news, I picked up an application for the UD Battle of the Bands, sponsored once again by a now-much-shittier Flyer Radio, 99.5 http://flyer-radio.udayton.edu.
The battle is organized by Keith Bange, the only bright spot at the otherwise-poopy station.
I haven't told Brad or Dominic about the possibility of playing yet. I'm assuming here that Dom is still alive. Brad, what do you think? First round is March 30 and April 1 (we only need to play one) and the finals are April 6. Applications due March 3. Sounds like it's organized a lot like last year, really.
Would we just play the same damn songs as last year? Odds seem pretty good.
And here's something to comment about: should Tony Storti and I get people together and try out for the battle? Tony was somewhat against it but didn't outright say no. I'd like to get Jason onstage with us and literally fuck around for 30 minutes. Yeah, I could do two bands. Vote now!
Love,
Steve
Monologue Night is now officially over. It went really well, I think. I had forgotten how much fun performing is. Or I should say "can be." I'm a fast fast dog.
I've got Full Circle pretty well memorized, I'd say, but I'm behind on UD Monologues. So it goes.
I just got an IM from my friend Mark Kannen. He sent me www.cnn.com. Word on the street is Dick Chaney just shot a guy. That makes me laugh.
The story is, they were hunting, and old Dick really wanted to bag a quail, and he shot his friend, a lawyer.
That really is a shame. I'd imagine the bird got away free, too.
In other news, I picked up an application for the UD Battle of the Bands, sponsored once again by a now-much-shittier Flyer Radio, 99.5 http://flyer-radio.udayton.edu.
The battle is organized by Keith Bange, the only bright spot at the otherwise-poopy station.
I haven't told Brad or Dominic about the possibility of playing yet. I'm assuming here that Dom is still alive. Brad, what do you think? First round is March 30 and April 1 (we only need to play one) and the finals are April 6. Applications due March 3. Sounds like it's organized a lot like last year, really.
Would we just play the same damn songs as last year? Odds seem pretty good.
And here's something to comment about: should Tony Storti and I get people together and try out for the battle? Tony was somewhat against it but didn't outright say no. I'd like to get Jason onstage with us and literally fuck around for 30 minutes. Yeah, I could do two bands. Vote now!
Love,
Steve
Friday, February 10, 2006
Maybe they got offended at the "God Bless the U.S.A." part.
Well Lucija is here to visit Jason. Then Dr. Kramb took us out to eat at Thai 9. Which was nice.
At dinner Tony challenged me to improve the blog. I imagine one post a day would be enough, right?
I mean, something somewhat long and interesting. Better than this.
I'm afraid I'll run out of things to say. I'm just not that interesting. We'll see.
Right now, I'll give you the other skit I wrote. I turned it in a little late, and they didn't take it.
Enjoy.
Welcome to Hot Topic
Tim –clean-cut all-American boy
Jacob – the ultra-quiet hipster sort, with an expensive haircut and a Starbucks tab
Hipster Girl – somewhat goth, quiet, scary
Emo Kid – a little less goth, whiny, always sad
Fred – think of Freddy from Scooby-Doo. In fact, that fits Tim as well.
Tim and Jacob are standing around onstage, separate from each other. Jacob has his back turned and is maybe folding some clothes. I don’t really care if we have any clothes or not.
Jacob is a typical hipster. He wears tight black clothes, maybe a trucker hat. On the other hand, he really loves his long, greasy black hair. Google image search “emo hair” to see what I mean.
Tim is wearing a Cosby sweater. Or maybe tie-dye. Or maybe an actual tie. Anyway, he is entirely un-goth, un-scenester, and uncool. Tim is gazing around happily.
Quietly, he starts singing the chorus of Lee Greenwood’s “God Bless the U.S.A.” (“And I’m proud to be an American, where at least I know I’m free. And I won’t forget the men who died who gave that right to me, and I’ll gladly stand up next to you and defend her still today. ‘Cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land. God bless the U.S.A.”). Jacob hears him, turns and stares. Tim doesn’t notice right away, then sees Jacob staring, slows down, and stops singing. When Jacob turns around again, Tim starts again.
While he is singing, Hipster Girl enters near Tim. She has black hair that gets in her eyes. She has a ripped-up jean jacket or zippered hooded sweatshirt on. She can’t do anything but frown.
Tim: Well hello there! (he points to his name tag) My name is Tim and I am a trainee! Welcome to Hot Topic! Fabulous weather, isn’t it? How are you today?!?
HG frowns at Tim for a minute. Jacob looks alarmed that Tim is speaking to a customer. There is a pause.
HG: I want to die.
Tim: Well now, why would you want to do that, missy? Life is so wonderful—
Jacob (heading across the stage, trying to look cool): Okay, Tim, take it easy. I’ll get this one. Why don’t you fold some Care Bears t-shirts?
Tim: Okay, great! Fabulous, Jake!
Jacob: It’s Jacob. (to HG) Welcome, goth princess. Welcome to Hot Topic, the dark, damp nether regions of the Dayton Mall. What shade of black are you looking for today?
HG: The deepest of blacks, like the scars on my soul.
Jacob: That’s over here, by the Bob Marley shirts.
Tim: Bob Marley was black!
Everyone stops.
HG: Listen, while I don’t personally know any black people, I respect them. And that offends me.
Tim (oblivious): “Get up, stand up!” Man, Bob Marley is the neatest!
Jacob: Tim, if you’re done folding Care Bears shirts, you can get to work on sorting those anarchy patches.
Tim: Amen, brother man!
Jacob and HG take one side of the stage, Tim takes the other. Jacob notices that Tim gets a customer.
Emo Kid comes in. He has shaggy black hair, a silver beaded chain, black wristbands, everything. He is as whiny, dark, and Hot-Topic-esque as possible.
Tim: Hey there, sport! Put ‘er there!
Tim reaches out to shake his hand. EK starts crying softly.
Tim: Fantastic! My name’s Tim, and I’m a trainee! Welcome to Hot Topic! How are you today?
EK: Why am I alive?
Tim: Well golly, partner, turn that frown upside-down! Boy, what you need is a great big hug from the Timinator!
Tim seizes EK and lifts him off the ground. Jacob runs over and shocks Tim with a tazer, or hits him with a baseball bat, or something, forcing Tim to the ground.
Jacob: Sorry, dude. Can I help you?
EK: Life is miserable.
Jacob (understanding): Ironic corporate logo t-shirts are near the back. Come this way.
Jacob leads EK over with HG. Tim gets up, oblivious that he got shocked/beaten.
Tim: Well fabulous! That’s just killer, guys! You enjoy your time here!
Fred enters. He is dressed like Tim.
Tim: Hello! Welcome to Hot—Fred?
Fred: Timothy!
Tim: Frederick!
They embrace and take turns lifting each other off the ground. They are giggling at each other. Behind them, the other three are visibly offended.
Tim: What are you doing here, you silly goose?
Fred: Well, golly, old bean, d’you think I’d miss your first day on the job?
Tim: Aww shucks! Now isn’t that the darndest thing!
Fred: So how’s it going, working man?
Tim suddenly becomes very serious and steps close to Fred.
Tim: Fred, I can’t stand it. These people! They’re so…so…unclean.
Fred: Tim!
Tim: I can’t help it! They’re gross and mean and dirty and (stage whisper) I don’t even think they believe in Jesus!
Fred (gasps): No!
Tim: What should I do, Fred?
Fred: Tim! Maybe we can convert them…THROUGH SONG!!
Tim: YES!
Fred: When you’re feeling low
Tim: When you’re just out of luck
Fred: When you’re getting depressed
Both: And you want to scream—
Tim: Shucks!
Both: Just smile a little and—
Jacob, EK and HG step forward and beat the two of them with fists, kicks and the baseball bat. For a very long time.
SCENE
At dinner Tony challenged me to improve the blog. I imagine one post a day would be enough, right?
I mean, something somewhat long and interesting. Better than this.
I'm afraid I'll run out of things to say. I'm just not that interesting. We'll see.
Right now, I'll give you the other skit I wrote. I turned it in a little late, and they didn't take it.
Enjoy.
Welcome to Hot Topic
Tim –clean-cut all-American boy
Jacob – the ultra-quiet hipster sort, with an expensive haircut and a Starbucks tab
Hipster Girl – somewhat goth, quiet, scary
Emo Kid – a little less goth, whiny, always sad
Fred – think of Freddy from Scooby-Doo. In fact, that fits Tim as well.
Tim and Jacob are standing around onstage, separate from each other. Jacob has his back turned and is maybe folding some clothes. I don’t really care if we have any clothes or not.
Jacob is a typical hipster. He wears tight black clothes, maybe a trucker hat. On the other hand, he really loves his long, greasy black hair. Google image search “emo hair” to see what I mean.
Tim is wearing a Cosby sweater. Or maybe tie-dye. Or maybe an actual tie. Anyway, he is entirely un-goth, un-scenester, and uncool. Tim is gazing around happily.
Quietly, he starts singing the chorus of Lee Greenwood’s “God Bless the U.S.A.” (“And I’m proud to be an American, where at least I know I’m free. And I won’t forget the men who died who gave that right to me, and I’ll gladly stand up next to you and defend her still today. ‘Cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land. God bless the U.S.A.”). Jacob hears him, turns and stares. Tim doesn’t notice right away, then sees Jacob staring, slows down, and stops singing. When Jacob turns around again, Tim starts again.
While he is singing, Hipster Girl enters near Tim. She has black hair that gets in her eyes. She has a ripped-up jean jacket or zippered hooded sweatshirt on. She can’t do anything but frown.
Tim: Well hello there! (he points to his name tag) My name is Tim and I am a trainee! Welcome to Hot Topic! Fabulous weather, isn’t it? How are you today?!?
HG frowns at Tim for a minute. Jacob looks alarmed that Tim is speaking to a customer. There is a pause.
HG: I want to die.
Tim: Well now, why would you want to do that, missy? Life is so wonderful—
Jacob (heading across the stage, trying to look cool): Okay, Tim, take it easy. I’ll get this one. Why don’t you fold some Care Bears t-shirts?
Tim: Okay, great! Fabulous, Jake!
Jacob: It’s Jacob. (to HG) Welcome, goth princess. Welcome to Hot Topic, the dark, damp nether regions of the Dayton Mall. What shade of black are you looking for today?
HG: The deepest of blacks, like the scars on my soul.
Jacob: That’s over here, by the Bob Marley shirts.
Tim: Bob Marley was black!
Everyone stops.
HG: Listen, while I don’t personally know any black people, I respect them. And that offends me.
Tim (oblivious): “Get up, stand up!” Man, Bob Marley is the neatest!
Jacob: Tim, if you’re done folding Care Bears shirts, you can get to work on sorting those anarchy patches.
Tim: Amen, brother man!
Jacob and HG take one side of the stage, Tim takes the other. Jacob notices that Tim gets a customer.
Emo Kid comes in. He has shaggy black hair, a silver beaded chain, black wristbands, everything. He is as whiny, dark, and Hot-Topic-esque as possible.
Tim: Hey there, sport! Put ‘er there!
Tim reaches out to shake his hand. EK starts crying softly.
Tim: Fantastic! My name’s Tim, and I’m a trainee! Welcome to Hot Topic! How are you today?
EK: Why am I alive?
Tim: Well golly, partner, turn that frown upside-down! Boy, what you need is a great big hug from the Timinator!
Tim seizes EK and lifts him off the ground. Jacob runs over and shocks Tim with a tazer, or hits him with a baseball bat, or something, forcing Tim to the ground.
Jacob: Sorry, dude. Can I help you?
EK: Life is miserable.
Jacob (understanding): Ironic corporate logo t-shirts are near the back. Come this way.
Jacob leads EK over with HG. Tim gets up, oblivious that he got shocked/beaten.
Tim: Well fabulous! That’s just killer, guys! You enjoy your time here!
Fred enters. He is dressed like Tim.
Tim: Hello! Welcome to Hot—Fred?
Fred: Timothy!
Tim: Frederick!
They embrace and take turns lifting each other off the ground. They are giggling at each other. Behind them, the other three are visibly offended.
Tim: What are you doing here, you silly goose?
Fred: Well, golly, old bean, d’you think I’d miss your first day on the job?
Tim: Aww shucks! Now isn’t that the darndest thing!
Fred: So how’s it going, working man?
Tim suddenly becomes very serious and steps close to Fred.
Tim: Fred, I can’t stand it. These people! They’re so…so…unclean.
Fred: Tim!
Tim: I can’t help it! They’re gross and mean and dirty and (stage whisper) I don’t even think they believe in Jesus!
Fred (gasps): No!
Tim: What should I do, Fred?
Fred: Tim! Maybe we can convert them…THROUGH SONG!!
Tim: YES!
Fred: When you’re feeling low
Tim: When you’re just out of luck
Fred: When you’re getting depressed
Both: And you want to scream—
Tim: Shucks!
Both: Just smile a little and—
Jacob, EK and HG step forward and beat the two of them with fists, kicks and the baseball bat. For a very long time.
SCENE
An encore appearance.
Morning.
Just to review what's coming up and what I'm doing in each show:
This weekend: Monologue Night, directed by Joe Beumer and Matt Formanski - "After I Was Thrown in the River and Before I Drowned" by Dave Eggers.
Next weekend, Feb. 16, 17 and 18: Full Circle, directed by Nick Bays and Jessica Coyle - multiple skits, of which I wrote two.
Feb. 24, 25 and 26: UD Monologues, directed by Josh Reichardt and Leslie Singel - two monologues I wrote.
Why did I get involved in this? It takes up a lot of time.
So here's a skit that didn't get accepted for Full Circle. I personally think it's pretty funny, but I understand. The directors of Full Circle don't quite share my sense of humor.
I'll post the other skit in a few minutes. Enjoy. Oh, and Beard, the main reason I left you out is because they only have really small tables, and I thought it would get really crowded with three people.
Title: “Taste of the Mediterranean” – Note: this skit is based on real events my roommate (“Tony”) and I (“Stephanie,” har har) experienced last month. The end is fictional, though. The guy really came over and played music with us. It was kinda cool.
Two people, a woman and a man, sit at a table to one side of the stage. They are eating dinner. In their case, I don’t care if they actually have food. They should mime eating.
Across the stage, and man sits and eats something. Ideally he’s really eating something. Whatever it is, he devours it without patience or manners. When he speaks, his mouth is entirely full. He has a Middle Eastern accent.
Akram: Hey, you guys, it’s good, yes?
Here’s a note about Akram. He knows English, especially American slang, and he speaks quickly. But he has a persistent accent that could be overdone if the audience reacts well.
Both people look up and respond somewhat vaguely but politely. “Yeah, sure.” “Yes, it is.”
Akram: Okay, yeah? It’s good?
He stares expectantly at them. They hesitate because they just answered that question.
Tony: Yeah, man, it’s really good.
Akram: You like the hummus? That’s good hummus.
He gets up and walks to their table excitedly. He points at imaginary food.
Akram: You like this stuff? This took me like forever to make, so you enjoy it. (he leans in pretty close to the man, Tony) While you eat this stuff, you think about how much I worked on it, you enjoy it, okay?
Tony (nodding): Okay. Thanks a lot, man.
Akram nods and folds his arms. He doesn’t move. Tony and Stephanie attempt to eat, but both keep glancing at him. He just watches them for a minute.
Akram: Hey, do you guys play music, man? I mean like play instruments?
Tony and Stephanie immediately look at each other. Tony cocks his head a little.
Stephanie: Yeah, we do.
Akram: Man, I could just tell, you guys. I just knew it. I was sitting there eating, and I thought, you know, I bet they play music, man. They look like the kind of people that would play music.
Tony and Stephanie laugh politely.
Tony: Yeah, I play guitar, and she plays drums.
Akram: Cool, man, that’s really cool. My name is Akram (ah-krahm). You guys like play in your garage, or…?
Stephanie: Our basement, actually.
Akram: Wow, man, that’s cool. That’s cool stuff.
Pause. Akram is looking at them, a sort of pleasant expression on his face, like when someone says “Hmm?”
Stephanie (giving in): Do you play an instrument?
Akram: Oh, yeah, I play the guitar, man. Three years I’ve been playing.
Tony: That’s cool. What kind of stuff are you into?
Akram: Oh, man, I’m really into Radiohead. I love that stuff. And jazz, man. I play Led Zeppelin Middle-Eastern style.
Tony and Stephanie laugh more outright this time.
Akram: I’m always looking for someone to play with, you know, to jam with.
Akram steps back and mimics playing a guitar, including sound effects. This goes on for a while. He adds made-up lyrics and shouts things like “drum solo!!” followed by drum mouth effects.
Sample lyrics:
Akram rocks like a motherfucking beast
Like a damn dirty bomb blowin’ up the middle east
You evil Christians pray to infidel God
But if you rock with Akram you’ll survive the jihad
Long pause when he’s finished. Tony and Stephanie search for places to look besides at Akram, who again has the slight smile on.
Stephanie (clears throat): Check please.
Tony: Well, I guess we’re always looking for people to play with. I suppose you could come by sometime…
Akram: Hey, man, that’s great. You know, I get off at ten tonight, man. Can I get directions to your house?
Stephanie shrugs. She grabs a pen and a piece of paper from her purse and starts writing.
Tony: Okay, yeah. Sounds good.
Akram: You need me to bring anything?
Tony: Just a guitar, I guess.
Akram: I need to bring my guitar and the goodies?
Stephanie stops writing. She looks across the table at Tony. They look at each other for a second. Akram doesn’t really notice this.
Stephanie: Umm…
Tony: Right. Your guitar.
Stephanie: Guitar.
Akram: Hey, guys, awesome. Man, this is awesome. We’re gonna have a band! You guys are great. I’ll make up the name of the band. You guys write us some songs, man. We’re gonna be famous!
He heads offstage away from the table.
As he leaves, Stephanie calls after him.
Stephanie: Wait, could we have the check, please?
Akram doesn’t hear her. Tony and Stephanie look at each other. Tony shrugs.
They both get up and leave quickly.
Let me know what you think.
Just to review what's coming up and what I'm doing in each show:
This weekend: Monologue Night, directed by Joe Beumer and Matt Formanski - "After I Was Thrown in the River and Before I Drowned" by Dave Eggers.
Next weekend, Feb. 16, 17 and 18: Full Circle, directed by Nick Bays and Jessica Coyle - multiple skits, of which I wrote two.
Feb. 24, 25 and 26: UD Monologues, directed by Josh Reichardt and Leslie Singel - two monologues I wrote.
Why did I get involved in this? It takes up a lot of time.
So here's a skit that didn't get accepted for Full Circle. I personally think it's pretty funny, but I understand. The directors of Full Circle don't quite share my sense of humor.
I'll post the other skit in a few minutes. Enjoy. Oh, and Beard, the main reason I left you out is because they only have really small tables, and I thought it would get really crowded with three people.
Title: “Taste of the Mediterranean” – Note: this skit is based on real events my roommate (“Tony”) and I (“Stephanie,” har har) experienced last month. The end is fictional, though. The guy really came over and played music with us. It was kinda cool.
Two people, a woman and a man, sit at a table to one side of the stage. They are eating dinner. In their case, I don’t care if they actually have food. They should mime eating.
Across the stage, and man sits and eats something. Ideally he’s really eating something. Whatever it is, he devours it without patience or manners. When he speaks, his mouth is entirely full. He has a Middle Eastern accent.
Akram: Hey, you guys, it’s good, yes?
Here’s a note about Akram. He knows English, especially American slang, and he speaks quickly. But he has a persistent accent that could be overdone if the audience reacts well.
Both people look up and respond somewhat vaguely but politely. “Yeah, sure.” “Yes, it is.”
Akram: Okay, yeah? It’s good?
He stares expectantly at them. They hesitate because they just answered that question.
Tony: Yeah, man, it’s really good.
Akram: You like the hummus? That’s good hummus.
He gets up and walks to their table excitedly. He points at imaginary food.
Akram: You like this stuff? This took me like forever to make, so you enjoy it. (he leans in pretty close to the man, Tony) While you eat this stuff, you think about how much I worked on it, you enjoy it, okay?
Tony (nodding): Okay. Thanks a lot, man.
Akram nods and folds his arms. He doesn’t move. Tony and Stephanie attempt to eat, but both keep glancing at him. He just watches them for a minute.
Akram: Hey, do you guys play music, man? I mean like play instruments?
Tony and Stephanie immediately look at each other. Tony cocks his head a little.
Stephanie: Yeah, we do.
Akram: Man, I could just tell, you guys. I just knew it. I was sitting there eating, and I thought, you know, I bet they play music, man. They look like the kind of people that would play music.
Tony and Stephanie laugh politely.
Tony: Yeah, I play guitar, and she plays drums.
Akram: Cool, man, that’s really cool. My name is Akram (ah-krahm). You guys like play in your garage, or…?
Stephanie: Our basement, actually.
Akram: Wow, man, that’s cool. That’s cool stuff.
Pause. Akram is looking at them, a sort of pleasant expression on his face, like when someone says “Hmm?”
Stephanie (giving in): Do you play an instrument?
Akram: Oh, yeah, I play the guitar, man. Three years I’ve been playing.
Tony: That’s cool. What kind of stuff are you into?
Akram: Oh, man, I’m really into Radiohead. I love that stuff. And jazz, man. I play Led Zeppelin Middle-Eastern style.
Tony and Stephanie laugh more outright this time.
Akram: I’m always looking for someone to play with, you know, to jam with.
Akram steps back and mimics playing a guitar, including sound effects. This goes on for a while. He adds made-up lyrics and shouts things like “drum solo!!” followed by drum mouth effects.
Sample lyrics:
Akram rocks like a motherfucking beast
Like a damn dirty bomb blowin’ up the middle east
You evil Christians pray to infidel God
But if you rock with Akram you’ll survive the jihad
Long pause when he’s finished. Tony and Stephanie search for places to look besides at Akram, who again has the slight smile on.
Stephanie (clears throat): Check please.
Tony: Well, I guess we’re always looking for people to play with. I suppose you could come by sometime…
Akram: Hey, man, that’s great. You know, I get off at ten tonight, man. Can I get directions to your house?
Stephanie shrugs. She grabs a pen and a piece of paper from her purse and starts writing.
Tony: Okay, yeah. Sounds good.
Akram: You need me to bring anything?
Tony: Just a guitar, I guess.
Akram: I need to bring my guitar and the goodies?
Stephanie stops writing. She looks across the table at Tony. They look at each other for a second. Akram doesn’t really notice this.
Stephanie: Umm…
Tony: Right. Your guitar.
Stephanie: Guitar.
Akram: Hey, guys, awesome. Man, this is awesome. We’re gonna have a band! You guys are great. I’ll make up the name of the band. You guys write us some songs, man. We’re gonna be famous!
He heads offstage away from the table.
As he leaves, Stephanie calls after him.
Stephanie: Wait, could we have the check, please?
Akram doesn’t hear her. Tony and Stephanie look at each other. Tony shrugs.
They both get up and leave quickly.
Let me know what you think.
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Turns out a schedule with three classes is as hard as you make it.
Sweet sassy molassy I've been busy.
And I'm going to be busy for a while longer.
Here's the story: this semester I wanted to get involved in Studio Theatre, the student-run theater group on campus. Their shows are always fun and cool to go see, and I did some stuff in high school, so why not?
So first I signed up for UD Monologues, a series of monologues written by UD students, faculty and alumni about women's issues on campus. In essence, it was created because The Vagina Monologues, which is perenially performed during Women's Week, is not welcome on campus this year.
While I think that's fucking dumb, I won't get into it now. It's being performed off-campus by an almost all-student cast, including the fabulous (yes, that's FAAA-bu-lous!!!) Teresa Arisco and a bunch of other less interesting people. It's this weekend, and maybe next weekend. I really don't know.
Anyway, I signed up for the UD Monologues, which means I need to write two monologues by the February 24-26 show dates. As of now, I'd say I've written about 1 2/3 monologues, and I'm pretty happy with them. They're both personal stories, really. One is about the cafeteria worker who I wrote about in Flyer News, and the other is about going to see The Vagina Monologues last year with Teresa's mom.
That one's funny. Hopefully.
Then Alyssa Wagner conned me into joining Monologue Night, a totally separate show put on by Studio Theatre. For this one, there's no need to write your own monologue, so I'm doing an adapted (read: painfully shortened) version of "After I Was Thrown in the River and Before I Drowned" by Dave Eggers (see post below). I love the story so much, it hurt me to cut out about 2/3 of it to make it short enough to perform.
But I still love it a lot.
I haven't quite memorized it but it's coming along pretty well. And it fucking better, since that show is February 10 and 11.
THIRD, I auditioned for "Full Circle," a collection of humorous student-written sketches notorious for its very brief preparation time. Auditions were Monday night, January 30, and the show is February 17 and 18.
I'm supposed to submit at least three sketches. Fuck fuck fuck.
To review:
Feb. 10-11: Monologue Night - "After I Was Thrown..."
Feb. 17-18: Full Circle - a bunch of sketches
Feb. 24-26: UD Monologues - two of my own monologues
I am dumb.
On the Vonnegut front: no news. And no news is bad news. I haven't received any reply yet. I'm afraid that, since the envelope had the Scholars office return address, they might get the answer. But then they'd just call or e-mail me anyway.
Oh well. I'll call or mail another letter in a few weeks if I don't hear anything.
Any other news?
Thank God, no.
Please comment and respond to this: should I post the things I write...the sketches and monologues and everything...on the blog? Or do you not care?
Love,
Steve
And I'm going to be busy for a while longer.
Here's the story: this semester I wanted to get involved in Studio Theatre, the student-run theater group on campus. Their shows are always fun and cool to go see, and I did some stuff in high school, so why not?
So first I signed up for UD Monologues, a series of monologues written by UD students, faculty and alumni about women's issues on campus. In essence, it was created because The Vagina Monologues, which is perenially performed during Women's Week, is not welcome on campus this year.
While I think that's fucking dumb, I won't get into it now. It's being performed off-campus by an almost all-student cast, including the fabulous (yes, that's FAAA-bu-lous!!!) Teresa Arisco and a bunch of other less interesting people. It's this weekend, and maybe next weekend. I really don't know.
Anyway, I signed up for the UD Monologues, which means I need to write two monologues by the February 24-26 show dates. As of now, I'd say I've written about 1 2/3 monologues, and I'm pretty happy with them. They're both personal stories, really. One is about the cafeteria worker who I wrote about in Flyer News, and the other is about going to see The Vagina Monologues last year with Teresa's mom.
That one's funny. Hopefully.
Then Alyssa Wagner conned me into joining Monologue Night, a totally separate show put on by Studio Theatre. For this one, there's no need to write your own monologue, so I'm doing an adapted (read: painfully shortened) version of "After I Was Thrown in the River and Before I Drowned" by Dave Eggers (see post below). I love the story so much, it hurt me to cut out about 2/3 of it to make it short enough to perform.
But I still love it a lot.
I haven't quite memorized it but it's coming along pretty well. And it fucking better, since that show is February 10 and 11.
THIRD, I auditioned for "Full Circle," a collection of humorous student-written sketches notorious for its very brief preparation time. Auditions were Monday night, January 30, and the show is February 17 and 18.
I'm supposed to submit at least three sketches. Fuck fuck fuck.
To review:
Feb. 10-11: Monologue Night - "After I Was Thrown..."
Feb. 17-18: Full Circle - a bunch of sketches
Feb. 24-26: UD Monologues - two of my own monologues
I am dumb.
On the Vonnegut front: no news. And no news is bad news. I haven't received any reply yet. I'm afraid that, since the envelope had the Scholars office return address, they might get the answer. But then they'd just call or e-mail me anyway.
Oh well. I'll call or mail another letter in a few weeks if I don't hear anything.
Any other news?
Thank God, no.
Please comment and respond to this: should I post the things I write...the sketches and monologues and everything...on the blog? Or do you not care?
Love,
Steve
Sunday, January 22, 2006
The final version of the letter.
Two posts in a day. Unbelievable.
I just wanted to put up the final copy of the letter I sent to Vonnegut's publisher. Feel free to pretend to be Dan Simon and post a comment accepting my request.
53 Woodland Ave.
Dayton, OH 45409
January 18, 2006
Dan Simon
Publisher
Seven Stories Press
140 Watts Street
New York, NY 10013
Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damned,
Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell,
Be thy intents wicked or charitable,
Thou com'st in such a questionable shape
That I will speak to thee.
- William Shakespeare, Hamlet Act I, Scene 4.
Dear Mr. Simon:
The University of Dayton will offer the mini-course "Themes in the Novels of Kurt Vonnegut" next fall. Students will read three to five of Mr. Vonnegut's novels and discuss the common themes, character motivations, and meanings.
I, an undergraduate English major, will teach the course. I chose to teach this course to complete an undergraduate thesis, and it is a great joy to spread the word of my favorite author.
I have all of the research I could find on Mr. Vonnegut's work--Jerome Klinkowitz's books; Donald E. Morse's The Novels of Kurt Vonnegut; Stanley Schatt's Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.; and others. I have read his novels, and have chosen several--Cat's Cradle, Mother Night, Slaughterhouse-Five and Bluebeard, most likely--to discuss in the class.
That isn't enough for me. I feel I could learn more about Mr. Vonnegut's novels, themes, and philosophy if I spoke with him in person. For this reason, I am writing to request a personal interview with Mr. Vonnegut at his convenience between March 10 and March 19 or during the summer of 2006 (after May 8).
If Mr. Vonnegut agrees, the John W. Berry, Sr. Scholars Program would fund my trip to New York. I would appreciate any time Mr. Vonnegut could afford to discuss his works and his ideas.
As a member of the American youth, Mr. Vonnegut's traditional audience, I believe it is very important to spread Mr. Vonnegut's messages to another generation. I think an interview with Mr. Vonnegut would provide great help in this endeavor.
Thank you,
Steve Weishampel
Now how could you say no to that?
Okay, I can think of some ways. I guess we'll find out which one Dan Simon prefers in a few days.
Maybe next post I'll explain why King Kong is racist. Until then, don't go see it.
Love,
Steve
I just wanted to put up the final copy of the letter I sent to Vonnegut's publisher. Feel free to pretend to be Dan Simon and post a comment accepting my request.
53 Woodland Ave.
Dayton, OH 45409
January 18, 2006
Dan Simon
Publisher
Seven Stories Press
140 Watts Street
New York, NY 10013
Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damned,
Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell,
Be thy intents wicked or charitable,
Thou com'st in such a questionable shape
That I will speak to thee.
- William Shakespeare, Hamlet Act I, Scene 4.
Dear Mr. Simon:
The University of Dayton will offer the mini-course "Themes in the Novels of Kurt Vonnegut" next fall. Students will read three to five of Mr. Vonnegut's novels and discuss the common themes, character motivations, and meanings.
I, an undergraduate English major, will teach the course. I chose to teach this course to complete an undergraduate thesis, and it is a great joy to spread the word of my favorite author.
I have all of the research I could find on Mr. Vonnegut's work--Jerome Klinkowitz's books; Donald E. Morse's The Novels of Kurt Vonnegut; Stanley Schatt's Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.; and others. I have read his novels, and have chosen several--Cat's Cradle, Mother Night, Slaughterhouse-Five and Bluebeard, most likely--to discuss in the class.
That isn't enough for me. I feel I could learn more about Mr. Vonnegut's novels, themes, and philosophy if I spoke with him in person. For this reason, I am writing to request a personal interview with Mr. Vonnegut at his convenience between March 10 and March 19 or during the summer of 2006 (after May 8).
If Mr. Vonnegut agrees, the John W. Berry, Sr. Scholars Program would fund my trip to New York. I would appreciate any time Mr. Vonnegut could afford to discuss his works and his ideas.
As a member of the American youth, Mr. Vonnegut's traditional audience, I believe it is very important to spread Mr. Vonnegut's messages to another generation. I think an interview with Mr. Vonnegut would provide great help in this endeavor.
Thank you,
Steve Weishampel
Now how could you say no to that?
Okay, I can think of some ways. I guess we'll find out which one Dan Simon prefers in a few days.
Maybe next post I'll explain why King Kong is racist. Until then, don't go see it.
Love,
Steve
As it turns out, playing guitar is the only requirement for a stranger to get directions to our house. It's that easy.
Oh, man.
So Tony and Beard wanted to buy microphones for their computers. For World of Warcraft. Plus they were going to the grocery store. So I went along because I needed groceries.
We were headed to the Best Buy near the Dayton Mall, and we decided to find somewhere to eat dinner. I voted for a tiny Mexican place called "La Pinata." No, I'm not missing the ~ (tilde), the sign didn't have one.
But while we were driving through the parking lot, Beard and Tony voted for "Taste of the Mediterranean," a Lebanese restaurant. So we went in.
We were the only patrons at the time except for three little girls who, as it turned out, were a daughter of one of the chefs and her friends.
For some reason Tony recommended we get a meal for four, even though there were three of us. This resulted in about 10,000,000 pounds of meat being slapped on our table. It was pretty disgusting.
While we were eating we met Akram.
He was one of the chefs, and he encouraged us several times to finish all the food. We couldn't quite do it, but he was getting all excited about it.
As we were trying, he was sitting across the room eating something. Mouth very full, he said, "Hey, do you guys play music, man?"
Please keep in mind this guy is 35 at least, graying, a little leering, and a stranger.
But we said yes. Tony plays guitar, I play drums. In our garage? No, in our basement. Really? Yes, really. What are we into? Well, rock, indie, I guess. One of his favorite bands is Radiohead. He also really likes Led Zeppelin (I'm wearing a Zeppelin sweatshirt). Yeah, see, he plays guitar. He plays Led Zeppelin "Middle-eastern style, man." How often do we play? Umm, like once a month, I guess. He's been playing for three years, and he really wants someone to play with. Oh. We see. Well...here Tony and I are glancing at each other...we really aren't busy tonight. What? Are we serious? Sure, we're serious. He gets off at 9:30 or 10:00. Can we give him directions to our house? Yes, we can. Should he bring an amp? No, we have one. Okay, so he'll just bring his guitar and "the goodies." Uhh, right. Your guitar.
He commands our server to give us 10% off and we depart, him grinning excitedly.
Best Buy and Kroger were pretty uneventful compared to that. We are alternately laughing about this and debating what "goodies" might mean.
An hour before he comes, Tony considers calling it off. We could look up Taste of the Mediterranean in the phone book, call, let Akram (American name Adam, he told us at the restaurant) know something came up. But we don't. And he calls at 9:30 and says he'll be here soon.
So he gets here, and he's got a fairly new off-brand Stratocaster, and we head to the basement.
He is not bad. He can play some crazy Middle-eastern-sounding lead stuff--no bends, not exactly shredding, but pretty cool. He sits in a chair rather than use the guitar strap we offer him. Every ten minutes or so, he lifts his head up and lets loose a loud, sustained "WHOOOOOO!!!!" I imagine he learned that in the "jazz fusion" he praises so much.
Midway through, we take a break and he smokes a cigarette in our basement. This allows him time for a ten-minute rant that alternates between slightly disparaging America and unreservedly praising Arab culture. Man, that's cool. I wouldn't know, so I'll believe him, sure. Go Middle East.
Then we get back to the rocking. He plays two Zeppelin songs--"Achilles' Last Stand," which I feel really bad for not knowing, and the painful "Since I've Been Loving You," which I play along with out of politeness. Jason and Beard are in attendance part of the time. Then, bam, it's midnight, and we send him off. He says "Next week?" and Tony and I put that to rest quickly. We get his number. We're pretty busy, bud. We'll call you, Akram.
Sadly, Teresa could not attend. She was watching Brokeback Mountain with Anne and, I imagine, pretending at least slightly to be a lesbian. Without having seen Brokeback Mountain, I am sure she spent her time better than listening to us. Alyssa, Ken, Valerie and Johnny also arrived after Akram left. They got to hear Ken, Tony and I rock, although Tony and I were tired at that point.
So:
Akram (guitar):
Advantages: He is a stranger, if that's an advantage; extremely excited; his "WOOOOO"s were occasionally hilarious; he offered us free meals once a month if we rock afterwards; he could play pretty competently.
Disadvantages: 40+, as it turns out; he is a stranger; anti-American rants could potentially get old (if he ever comes back); didn't come through with "the goodies" (I am joking, that's an advantage); probably way too excited about playing with us.
Grade: C.
Summary: Akram is probably best summarized by Walt Kolis, who didn't hear Akram play and didn't meet him. But, according to Jason, Walt said something like this when discussing whether Akram would come back:
"Doesn't this guy realize that Tony and Steve only had him over so that later they could say he came over?"
Exactly, Walt. The value of saying it happened is probably way greater than the experience itself.
That's all, friends. Next time: Who knows!
Love,
Steve
So Tony and Beard wanted to buy microphones for their computers. For World of Warcraft. Plus they were going to the grocery store. So I went along because I needed groceries.
We were headed to the Best Buy near the Dayton Mall, and we decided to find somewhere to eat dinner. I voted for a tiny Mexican place called "La Pinata." No, I'm not missing the ~ (tilde), the sign didn't have one.
But while we were driving through the parking lot, Beard and Tony voted for "Taste of the Mediterranean," a Lebanese restaurant. So we went in.
We were the only patrons at the time except for three little girls who, as it turned out, were a daughter of one of the chefs and her friends.
For some reason Tony recommended we get a meal for four, even though there were three of us. This resulted in about 10,000,000 pounds of meat being slapped on our table. It was pretty disgusting.
While we were eating we met Akram.
He was one of the chefs, and he encouraged us several times to finish all the food. We couldn't quite do it, but he was getting all excited about it.
As we were trying, he was sitting across the room eating something. Mouth very full, he said, "Hey, do you guys play music, man?"
Please keep in mind this guy is 35 at least, graying, a little leering, and a stranger.
But we said yes. Tony plays guitar, I play drums. In our garage? No, in our basement. Really? Yes, really. What are we into? Well, rock, indie, I guess. One of his favorite bands is Radiohead. He also really likes Led Zeppelin (I'm wearing a Zeppelin sweatshirt). Yeah, see, he plays guitar. He plays Led Zeppelin "Middle-eastern style, man." How often do we play? Umm, like once a month, I guess. He's been playing for three years, and he really wants someone to play with. Oh. We see. Well...here Tony and I are glancing at each other...we really aren't busy tonight. What? Are we serious? Sure, we're serious. He gets off at 9:30 or 10:00. Can we give him directions to our house? Yes, we can. Should he bring an amp? No, we have one. Okay, so he'll just bring his guitar and "the goodies." Uhh, right. Your guitar.
He commands our server to give us 10% off and we depart, him grinning excitedly.
Best Buy and Kroger were pretty uneventful compared to that. We are alternately laughing about this and debating what "goodies" might mean.
An hour before he comes, Tony considers calling it off. We could look up Taste of the Mediterranean in the phone book, call, let Akram (American name Adam, he told us at the restaurant) know something came up. But we don't. And he calls at 9:30 and says he'll be here soon.
So he gets here, and he's got a fairly new off-brand Stratocaster, and we head to the basement.
He is not bad. He can play some crazy Middle-eastern-sounding lead stuff--no bends, not exactly shredding, but pretty cool. He sits in a chair rather than use the guitar strap we offer him. Every ten minutes or so, he lifts his head up and lets loose a loud, sustained "WHOOOOOO!!!!" I imagine he learned that in the "jazz fusion" he praises so much.
Midway through, we take a break and he smokes a cigarette in our basement. This allows him time for a ten-minute rant that alternates between slightly disparaging America and unreservedly praising Arab culture. Man, that's cool. I wouldn't know, so I'll believe him, sure. Go Middle East.
Then we get back to the rocking. He plays two Zeppelin songs--"Achilles' Last Stand," which I feel really bad for not knowing, and the painful "Since I've Been Loving You," which I play along with out of politeness. Jason and Beard are in attendance part of the time. Then, bam, it's midnight, and we send him off. He says "Next week?" and Tony and I put that to rest quickly. We get his number. We're pretty busy, bud. We'll call you, Akram.
Sadly, Teresa could not attend. She was watching Brokeback Mountain with Anne and, I imagine, pretending at least slightly to be a lesbian. Without having seen Brokeback Mountain, I am sure she spent her time better than listening to us. Alyssa, Ken, Valerie and Johnny also arrived after Akram left. They got to hear Ken, Tony and I rock, although Tony and I were tired at that point.
So:
Akram (guitar):
Advantages: He is a stranger, if that's an advantage; extremely excited; his "WOOOOO"s were occasionally hilarious; he offered us free meals once a month if we rock afterwards; he could play pretty competently.
Disadvantages: 40+, as it turns out; he is a stranger; anti-American rants could potentially get old (if he ever comes back); didn't come through with "the goodies" (I am joking, that's an advantage); probably way too excited about playing with us.
Grade: C.
Summary: Akram is probably best summarized by Walt Kolis, who didn't hear Akram play and didn't meet him. But, according to Jason, Walt said something like this when discussing whether Akram would come back:
"Doesn't this guy realize that Tony and Steve only had him over so that later they could say he came over?"
Exactly, Walt. The value of saying it happened is probably way greater than the experience itself.
That's all, friends. Next time: Who knows!
Love,
Steve
Thursday, January 19, 2006
The news and a review. I'm like a one-man newspaper that doesn't get paid.
Okay, I finally did it.
I went to UDP&D and got the letters (5) and envelopes (3) printed.
I went to the post office, bought a stamp, and sent Dan Simon of Seven Stories Press a request to interview Kurt Vonnegut.
I walked halfway home, and realized I didn't sign that letter.
I went back to the post office, asked for the letter back, signed a different letter, sealed and stamped a new envelope, and actually sent Dan Simon of Seven Stories Press a request to interview Kurt Vonnegut.
Then I walked all the way home.
I also turned in my request form to teach a mini-course this year.
The interview I can live without. If that request gets shot down for some reason--like, for example, my utter lack of teaching credentials or experience--I'm boned.
I also got a sport coat in the mail today from my mommy. It's a little big in the shoulders, unbelievably, and it's kind of a purply color. It's nice, though. I'm wearing it right now.
AS IF THE VONNEGUT LETTER WAS NOT NEWS ENOUGH, I am also going to review Dave Eggers' book How We Are Hungry. Brace yourself as my two favorite authors--maybe two favorite living authors--combine to form some kind of meta-post.
Title: How We Are Hungry
Author: Dave Eggers
Publisher: Vintage Books, first printed and copyrighted by McSweeney's Publishing, 2004.
Story list:
1. Another
2. What It Means When a Crowd in a Faraway Nation Takes a Soldier Representing Your Own Nation, Shoots Him, Drags Him from His Vehicle and Then Mutilates Him in the Dust
3. The Only Meaning of the Oil-Wet Water
4. On Wanting to Have Three Walls Up Before She Gets Home
5. Climbing to the Window, Pretending to Dance
6. She Waits, Seething, Blooming
7. Quiet
8. Your Mother and I
9. Naveed
10. Notes for a Story of a Man Who Will Not Die Alone
11. About the Man Who Began Flying After Meeting Her
12. Up the Mountain Coming Down Slowly
13. When They Learned to Yelp
14. After I Was Thrown in the River and Before I Drowned
Maybe I should explain the format first. I think that will help.
Looking at the book as a whole, Eggers alternates between longer short stories--“Another,” “The Only Meaning of the Oil-Wet Water,” “Climbing to the Window, Pretending to Dance,” etc.--and very short ones, usually only two pages. In my opinion, they are equally powerful, and I would say the characters can be just as well-developed in the short stories as in the longer ones.
I think some, short and long alike, are amazing. Absolutely beautiful.
Eggers’ style is unique and enthralling. His words come out in violent bursts, and reading is a jolting, breathtaking, physical experience. In “Quiet,” the moon says something--yes, the moon says something--to a character named Tom that pretty well summarizes Eggers’ writing: “It always looks so messy, and I think I might like that.” “It is messy, I guess.” “It looks awfully messy. It looks almost impossible to survive, to tell you the truth. The pain of it all.”
Maybe this passage from “When They Learned to Yelp” will do it more justice:
The words, questions and statements which are encompassed in one quick yelp: Fuck! Shit! Piss! How could you? How could you? How do your hands do such things? I won’t believe it. Stop it now. Please stop it now. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Motherfuckers! Animals! That poor man. Those poor women. Look at her arms. Look at his face. I cannot believe it. I will not believe it. Those bastards. Those motherfucking bastards. This is not how it should be. Nothing should ever be like this. Goddamn all this. I give up. No, I will fight. No, I will give up. No, I will fight.
He can handle twists and surprises brilliantly, and even a soft, relaxed, calm story like “Notes for a Story of a Man Who Will Not Die Alone” is flooded with exciting, fascinating language. Everyone should write like Dave Eggers.
Eggers excels at seizing upon one or two details (“At Gizeh I walked with the horse man—he had no smell…” in “Another,” for example) that paint a sloppy, realistic picture of life in his stories. He loves to play games with names. Hand, the Irish woman Pilar, Fish, Catanese, Erin Mahatma Fullerton, Naveed, Basil, Godwill, Kassim, and all of the dogs in “After I Was Thrown....” It’s a hilarious little side note to his stories, to discover what name he will use--or what will become a name--next.
Now we should establish some theme common to the stories. I can think of a few--love, physical attraction, overcoming challenges--and the stories to go with them. But while the stories all work together, and they don’t exactly clash, they’re very separate, I think. They hardly touch.
But their messages are great. The content of these stories--each one in some way triumphant and uplifting--may overshadow the great style.
Let me give you a one-sentence summary of each. This is both to make you interested and to challenge me to summarize some of these stories in one sentence.
“Another”: An American in Egypt challenges himself and his nation’s image.
“What It Means…”: If I could improve on the story’s title, I would.
“The Only Meaning of the Oil-Wet Water”: Pilar and Hand expand or end their friendship in Costa Rica.
“On Wanting to Have Three Walls…”: Eggers (maybe sarcastically) celebrates the suburbs.
“Climbing to the Window, Pretending to Dance”: Fish and his cousin Adam attempt to avoid suicide.
“She Waits, Seething, Blooming”: A single mother plots her revenge on a disobedient son.
“Quiet”: Tom and Erin expand or end their friendship in Scotland. If I can use two sentences, I should say this story is beautiful and definitely different from “The Only Meaning of the Oil-Wet Water,” despite the…umm…similar descriptions.
“Your Mother and I”: A couple changes the world forever in thousands of ways.
“Naveed”: A woman plots her next sexual conquest…and her next.
“Notes for a Story of a Man Who Will Not Die Alone”: Basil accepts his death, and decides to share it.
“About the Man Who Began Flying After Meeting Her”: A man constructs a new personality for a new attraction.
“Up the Mountain Coming Down Slowly”: Rita and other climbers tackle Kilimanjaro for reasons that aren’t really clear to her.
“When They Learned to Yelp”: A nation reacts in pain.
“After I Was Thrown…”: A dog named Steven is intoxicated with the beauty of life.
I can’t recommend this book enough. I really believe Eggers can grasp attention and convey a feeling and a message stronger than just about anybody.
I think easily the most beautiful story is “After I Was Thrown….” It manages to communicate absolute joy and complete sadness at once. It is heartbreaking. It’s in my top three short stories of all time, with Of Mice and Men and maybe “Harrison Bergeron,” maybe “The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas.” I adore it.
On the other hand, some of the shorter stories are less impressive. I mean, I like them and everything, but they just aren’t developed enough to be great. I have “She Waits, Seething, Blooming” and “Naveed” in mind here, as well as “On Wanting to Have Three Walls….” I like them, but they aren’t of the caliber of “Notes for a Story…” or “Up the Mountain Coming Down Slowly.”
Summary: Eggers is a master. He can twist the English language to do incredible things, and his messages are complicated and brilliant. If only, if only, some of the stories were longer, or there were just more stories here. I wanted badly to keep reading after “After I Was Thrown…,” but all I could do was flip back to the beginning. Which I admit I did. Please, read How We Are Hungry if you care about being a human.
Grade: A.
I went to UDP&D and got the letters (5) and envelopes (3) printed.
I went to the post office, bought a stamp, and sent Dan Simon of Seven Stories Press a request to interview Kurt Vonnegut.
I walked halfway home, and realized I didn't sign that letter.
I went back to the post office, asked for the letter back, signed a different letter, sealed and stamped a new envelope, and actually sent Dan Simon of Seven Stories Press a request to interview Kurt Vonnegut.
Then I walked all the way home.
I also turned in my request form to teach a mini-course this year.
The interview I can live without. If that request gets shot down for some reason--like, for example, my utter lack of teaching credentials or experience--I'm boned.
I also got a sport coat in the mail today from my mommy. It's a little big in the shoulders, unbelievably, and it's kind of a purply color. It's nice, though. I'm wearing it right now.
AS IF THE VONNEGUT LETTER WAS NOT NEWS ENOUGH, I am also going to review Dave Eggers' book How We Are Hungry. Brace yourself as my two favorite authors--maybe two favorite living authors--combine to form some kind of meta-post.
Title: How We Are Hungry
Author: Dave Eggers
Publisher: Vintage Books, first printed and copyrighted by McSweeney's Publishing, 2004.
Story list:
1. Another
2. What It Means When a Crowd in a Faraway Nation Takes a Soldier Representing Your Own Nation, Shoots Him, Drags Him from His Vehicle and Then Mutilates Him in the Dust
3. The Only Meaning of the Oil-Wet Water
4. On Wanting to Have Three Walls Up Before She Gets Home
5. Climbing to the Window, Pretending to Dance
6. She Waits, Seething, Blooming
7. Quiet
8. Your Mother and I
9. Naveed
10. Notes for a Story of a Man Who Will Not Die Alone
11. About the Man Who Began Flying After Meeting Her
12. Up the Mountain Coming Down Slowly
13. When They Learned to Yelp
14. After I Was Thrown in the River and Before I Drowned
Maybe I should explain the format first. I think that will help.
Looking at the book as a whole, Eggers alternates between longer short stories--“Another,” “The Only Meaning of the Oil-Wet Water,” “Climbing to the Window, Pretending to Dance,” etc.--and very short ones, usually only two pages. In my opinion, they are equally powerful, and I would say the characters can be just as well-developed in the short stories as in the longer ones.
I think some, short and long alike, are amazing. Absolutely beautiful.
Eggers’ style is unique and enthralling. His words come out in violent bursts, and reading is a jolting, breathtaking, physical experience. In “Quiet,” the moon says something--yes, the moon says something--to a character named Tom that pretty well summarizes Eggers’ writing: “It always looks so messy, and I think I might like that.” “It is messy, I guess.” “It looks awfully messy. It looks almost impossible to survive, to tell you the truth. The pain of it all.”
Maybe this passage from “When They Learned to Yelp” will do it more justice:
The words, questions and statements which are encompassed in one quick yelp: Fuck! Shit! Piss! How could you? How could you? How do your hands do such things? I won’t believe it. Stop it now. Please stop it now. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Motherfuckers! Animals! That poor man. Those poor women. Look at her arms. Look at his face. I cannot believe it. I will not believe it. Those bastards. Those motherfucking bastards. This is not how it should be. Nothing should ever be like this. Goddamn all this. I give up. No, I will fight. No, I will give up. No, I will fight.
He can handle twists and surprises brilliantly, and even a soft, relaxed, calm story like “Notes for a Story of a Man Who Will Not Die Alone” is flooded with exciting, fascinating language. Everyone should write like Dave Eggers.
Eggers excels at seizing upon one or two details (“At Gizeh I walked with the horse man—he had no smell…” in “Another,” for example) that paint a sloppy, realistic picture of life in his stories. He loves to play games with names. Hand, the Irish woman Pilar, Fish, Catanese, Erin Mahatma Fullerton, Naveed, Basil, Godwill, Kassim, and all of the dogs in “After I Was Thrown....” It’s a hilarious little side note to his stories, to discover what name he will use--or what will become a name--next.
Now we should establish some theme common to the stories. I can think of a few--love, physical attraction, overcoming challenges--and the stories to go with them. But while the stories all work together, and they don’t exactly clash, they’re very separate, I think. They hardly touch.
But their messages are great. The content of these stories--each one in some way triumphant and uplifting--may overshadow the great style.
Let me give you a one-sentence summary of each. This is both to make you interested and to challenge me to summarize some of these stories in one sentence.
“Another”: An American in Egypt challenges himself and his nation’s image.
“What It Means…”: If I could improve on the story’s title, I would.
“The Only Meaning of the Oil-Wet Water”: Pilar and Hand expand or end their friendship in Costa Rica.
“On Wanting to Have Three Walls…”: Eggers (maybe sarcastically) celebrates the suburbs.
“Climbing to the Window, Pretending to Dance”: Fish and his cousin Adam attempt to avoid suicide.
“She Waits, Seething, Blooming”: A single mother plots her revenge on a disobedient son.
“Quiet”: Tom and Erin expand or end their friendship in Scotland. If I can use two sentences, I should say this story is beautiful and definitely different from “The Only Meaning of the Oil-Wet Water,” despite the…umm…similar descriptions.
“Your Mother and I”: A couple changes the world forever in thousands of ways.
“Naveed”: A woman plots her next sexual conquest…and her next.
“Notes for a Story of a Man Who Will Not Die Alone”: Basil accepts his death, and decides to share it.
“About the Man Who Began Flying After Meeting Her”: A man constructs a new personality for a new attraction.
“Up the Mountain Coming Down Slowly”: Rita and other climbers tackle Kilimanjaro for reasons that aren’t really clear to her.
“When They Learned to Yelp”: A nation reacts in pain.
“After I Was Thrown…”: A dog named Steven is intoxicated with the beauty of life.
I can’t recommend this book enough. I really believe Eggers can grasp attention and convey a feeling and a message stronger than just about anybody.
I think easily the most beautiful story is “After I Was Thrown….” It manages to communicate absolute joy and complete sadness at once. It is heartbreaking. It’s in my top three short stories of all time, with Of Mice and Men and maybe “Harrison Bergeron,” maybe “The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas.” I adore it.
On the other hand, some of the shorter stories are less impressive. I mean, I like them and everything, but they just aren’t developed enough to be great. I have “She Waits, Seething, Blooming” and “Naveed” in mind here, as well as “On Wanting to Have Three Walls….” I like them, but they aren’t of the caliber of “Notes for a Story…” or “Up the Mountain Coming Down Slowly.”
Summary: Eggers is a master. He can twist the English language to do incredible things, and his messages are complicated and brilliant. If only, if only, some of the stories were longer, or there were just more stories here. I wanted badly to keep reading after “After I Was Thrown…,” but all I could do was flip back to the beginning. Which I admit I did. Please, read How We Are Hungry if you care about being a human.
Grade: A.
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