Speaking of which, I am growing increasingly concerned with my allergies. I walk around like a stoopid ape with my mouth half open because I can't breathe out of my nose anymore. At least, not enough to where I can rely solely on oxygen from my nose. It is an issue. My mouth gets dried out, I lose my breath often, and worst of all I sound like a creeper when I breathe. Like Brainy from Hey Arnold.
Speaking of which, I want a locket just like Helga's to put pictures of my secret crushes into:
Football Head.
It has been a very interesting week, mostly because of "The Wiz"s latest hiccup about a week before the show's premiere: our Lion has been locked up. He is in jail, and will be for the entire run of the show. Do actors really deal with this kind of stuff?? This is one of those rare opportunities for an understudy to take the reigns and actually be needed on stage in that role. But wouldn't you know it, the Lion doesn't HAVE an understudy. So we pulled in a last-minute guy to learn all of his lines, blocking, choreography and songs within a week's time. Wunderbar.
It's a little uncanny that, within about a month, one person I dislike has died and another has been sent to jail. I would not begin to suggest my impartial feelings had any impact on what misfortunes befall them, but it is strange. And strange for me. I'm not so conflicted with the guy that got locked up-- because he had that a long time coming, and that's not just me saying that; I was more conflicted with the other person's death. Because that's... death. You don't come back from it. Death is just about as final as you can get.
"We beg to differ!"
And we all secretly wish death to people in our lives, and we insist that we would rejoice. Now, I never wished death upon this person, but when it comes down to it I did not prefer his presence very much. When I heard the news that he had died, I wasn't sure how to react. My initial response, of course, was shock, but as it subsided I began to feel uncertain. I felt like I should show remorse, though I had none. And why didn't I feel remorse? This is death we're talking about. And not the death of Stalin or OJ Simpson. Just a guy. A guy I didn't really like, but didn't passionately despise. How frequently, I ask, are we ACTUALLY faced with this situation in the raw? It's so easy to be hypothetical, but when it actually happens... trust me, you don't know how to feel. It's weird. It's uncomfortable. Death brings about compassion, I'm seeing.
Speaking of death, I saw the movie "Synecdoche" this past weekend. I feel like the statement "I enjoyed it" is inappropriate to use for this movie, but you get the general meaning. I liked Synecdoche. A lot. It is definitely not for everyone, and it's not the type of movie you are content to watch only one, or two, or six times. I have to see it again. I have to pick apart every aspect of it until I understand it fully. It's that kind of movie. Synecdoche is emotionally draining, which is good in the way that "bad publicity is good publicity." A movie that can affect its viewers the way Synecdoche has affected its fans is what one would regard a masterpiece of cinema. And it is. Synecdoche. Synecdoche evokes every type of emotion, save apathy or neutrality. It's an incredible, incomparable experience. Spoken true by a user on imdb.com: "This movie touched me on every level of my existence." And another pretentious one who makes good points in a pedantic manner: "I wanted to cry at the end but was too perplexed."
SEE THIS MOVIE
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