Thursday, August 11, 2011

Open Auditions: The Ash Girl

I don't remember if I had posted much about this on my blog, but seeing as how I'm pretty horrible about remembering to update I would assume that I haven't. I know that I've mentioned various costuming meetings on Twitter, though.

So here's what's going on:

My friend Miranda Miller will be directing The Ash Girl for ABC players out of Nelsonville, Ohio. I'm involved in costuming if you were wondering.

The Ash Girl is a dark retelling of Cinderella that features embodiments of the seven deadly sins. The overall costuming feel that we're going for is dark, elegant, somewhat spooky and includes a good dose of Steampunk and Victorian influences.

Auditions will be held on August 27th and 28th starting at 1pm. The auditions will take place at Stuart's Opera House in Nelsonville, Ohio. You don't have to be a member of ABC Players to audition. If you need assistance with transportation to the auditions I know some people will be carpooling, so if you need help with that you can post on the event page. I'll provide links to more information at the bottom of this entry.

Here are a couple examples of masks that have been made for the production

Angerbird
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Pridefly
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Facebook Event page for the Auditions

ABC Player's page has the Audition information and forms

Role List

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Dream: Backwards Underpants

I've been bad about posting, but there's plenty of excuses about that including: dead tired, medical tests, making cookies and paper flowers for my Mother's wedding, trying to finish other projects. I haven't even had any strange dreams in the past couple weeks, but I had a lame one a couple nights ago--so here it is...
About a year and a half ago I went to see Deadstar Assembly do a show in Cleveland. While I attended the show I bought a set of merch that was referred to as "Ladies Night" which included a CD, pins and DSA boyshorts...and I think that was it. The boyshorts are black and have a logo on the hip. Anyway, my dream last night was that--horror of horrors-- I had been wearing the boyshorts backwards every time that I've worn them. Meaning that the logo should not be on the front of my hip, but more on my butt. Quelle horreur!
I was actually disturbed enough to wake up from the nightmare. In fact, it was almost scary enough to make me get out of bed to check my underwear drawer in order to see if it was true. I realized how asinine the very idea was, so I went back to sleep.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Dream: Love Hangover Nightmare

I just started researching the history of male circumcision, and discovered the only real instances of non-Jewish males being circumcised started in the Victorian Era... oh, and it went along with preventing masturbation. I will soon have more to add to my discussion of Victorian Self-Love.
As I was reading and deciding what to post I managed to start up a dripping nosebleed, which is funny if you've watched anime.

One of my friends showed me the following video the other day and that evening I promptly had a nightmare involving gay icon Zeb Atlas.


His arms look like they belong on one of those oddly-proportioned 10-inch X-Men action figures. And maybe that scares me because the arms broke off of those figures really easily--or maybe Magneto just wasn't well-suited for gladiator battles or being thrown down the stairs.

naughty memes - Even Magneto Doesn't Know
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So, anyway a guy who looked much like the man with action figure arms who cannot be saved by autotune showed up in my odd dream. I was taking some business-related class in a school surrounded by winding brick-paved roads, nice houses and massive amounts of cemeteries-- I should've known I was in trouble with all the cemeteries around. At this business event there I was--dressed in black--the bodybuilder and a lot of frumpy-looking business women in pastel suits who had creepy too-nice smiles. The guy was wearing a short-sleeved white dress shirt and a bowtie that mostly made me think he was trying to be Clark Kent, or Captain Hero, or just ridiculous. For some reason I did not find him to be a complete freak (some bodybuilders creep me out with their muscle bulginess--which is funny because long ago I worked with several bodybuilders), and mostly felt sorry for him because I figured he would go the way of the actions figures as my dreams are kind of rough on people and most of my action figures ended up with makeshift electrical tape casts holding their arms onto their bodies. I wasn't a very conventional doctor to my action figures...

hugh laurie
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So, back in the odd dream--after the class meeting was over I decided I would walk home--which was apparently several hours of walking. So, I walked the winding medieval roads through the suburbs which led to beautiful green hills that reminded me of pictures of Ireland. Then I arrived at a cemetery. It was the biggest cemetery I have ever dreamed up. It was all stone--no grass at all-- and it led up to a towering castle-like crypt. Conveniently, I was told that it was the "Vampire Castle" by the pale, skinny, nerdy guys who were dressed in blue jeans and black t-shirts, but wore giant gothy capes over their ensembles. I'm not talking about "Hey, mom look at the sweet cape I got at the Ren Faire" style, but more along the lines of the Death Eaters from Harry Potter--complete with ethereal energy following them around as well. Oh, or maybe they were like ringwraiths from LOTR without dead kings underneath their capes.
My first thought was This is such a stupid dream.
The "vampires" were trying to avoid the sun, but continued to walk in a circle around a obelisk in the middle of the broken crypt. I reveled in how pointless this was, and then the muscle guy showed up. The vampire kids hissed like cats and ran away. Muscle guy carried me out of the crypt and was certain he had just saved my life from the circle-walking dorks. I started to think that he looked rather sexy... Once that thought sunk in I worried about where this dream was going.
Okay, we're going to stop this train right before it gets to idiotic town...I'm just going to wake up now.
And I did.

Sunday, June 26, 2011

Essay:The Unlikelihood of Murder in “The Tell-Tale Heart”

This is a paper I wrote for ENG 250 at Ohio University this past Spring Quarter. I wanted to post it for some friends to read and have no intention of researching this further. The page numbers go to a collection of Poe's works that I have, but you can ignore the numbers and just know that it all cites passages from Poe's short story "The Tell-Tale Heart," and nothing more. Plagiarism is bad and naughty and I'd prefer that people not steal my shit, but that's the risk you run when posting online...and it's not like webpages I used to write for don't have the option of profiting from selling old articles that I wrote for them. Always read the fine print, kids.
The spaces between paragraphs don't mean different sections, but do differentiate between paragraphs...obviously.

The Unlikelihood of Murder in “The Tell-Tale Heart”

The narrator in “The Tell-Tale Heart” is unreliable at best and more curiously possibly not doing any of the actions that he discusses. Using the Psychoanalysis approach and details within the story a reading of the text can be provided that not only discredits the narrator’s version of the story, but questions the truth of the murder that appears to haunt him. Looking at lines within the text the murder of the old man can be read as a work of an over-active imagination, or a dream, in the mind of a caretaker driven mad by the silence and isolation of being alone in a large house for an extended period of time.

The narrator repeatedly draws attention to the idea of madness. He mentions heightened senses multiple times, but mostly focuses on his hearing abilities being elevated. If he has been alone in the house while the old man is away in the country then the silence could appear to deepen over time and improve his hearing when he is alone. This degree of quiet and solitude could be the cause of his madness. During the story he alternates between being nervous and being calm. For example: “. . .very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am. . .” (317), “how calmly I can tell you the whole story.” (317), and “I have told you that I am nervous: so I am.”(319) Just this alternating between calm and nerves can paint him as being unreliable when telling the story.

During the actual act of the murder several items do not quite make sense. “I dragged him to the floor, and pulled the heavy bed over him.”(319): this is the only physical act of the murder in this scene and it appears more of an inconvenience rather than a murder weapon. A bed heavy enough to kill someone is probably not light enough for one man to pull over the other person even if they are elderly. The nature of the old man’s murder is called into question because the parallel between the narrator and old man is brought forward. Before the murder the narrator claims that he and the old man both wait unmoving for an hour after being startled by the lantern. These movements are parallel and the narrator begins to project his own fears upon what he believes is the old man, “His fears had been ever since growing upon him. He had been trying to fancy them causeless, but could not.” This quotation also projects the narrator’s descent into madness as something that increased over time, and can make his representation of the events possible inaccurate.

The investigators states that “A shriek had been heard by a neighbor during the night. . .”(320) to which the narrator responds “The shriek, I said, was my own in a dream. The old man, I mentioned, was absent in the country.”(320) In this section he reveals that he may have been dreaming and the old man may be away. To put an action with what the narrator’s possible dream and what the neighbors heard to the sequence of events that he believes led to the murder of the old man, “With a loud yell, I threw open the lantern and leaped into the room.” (319) Using these three quotes the reality of the events around what the narrator believes happened involving the old man is drawn into question. Since this raises so many questions another question can be brought in as to why he appears to encourage the investigators to stay and talk, especially in the room where he believes the murder happened. Perhaps if this all happened in a dream triggered by his madness of silence then perhaps he desires the officers to stay and talk to fill the silence, but also to show that nothing is wrong with the room. He cannot cope with what he believes he has done and the content of the dream makes him nervous as the heartbeat sound returns.

While talking to the officers in the last two paragraphs the narrator takes notice of the heart-like noise. He discusses the acts of gasping for breath, talking quickly, pacing, swearing, raving and then moving his chair around. His obviously agitated state as he describes hearing the sound is not noticed by the officers. In this reading it is possible that the sound is only in his head, being his own heartbeat, and the increase in volume coincides with him becoming more physically agitated--thus increasing the noise—or by him imagining the ranting and raving within his own head. If he is carrying out these nervous behaviors and the officers pay no mind to it, then there is something amiss with their observational skills and they should not be on any police force. But, more likely, the narrator is raging within his own head, as the panic increases, so does his pulse and the increase in audibility of his own heartbeat. This is why the officers do not hear it.

Between the shifting moods, heightened sense and oddly paralleled events within the narrative the actual act of murder can be called into question. The only truth in the narrator’s account may be that the old man was away in the country, the narrator is alone in the house for an extended period of time which causes him to have heightened senses and the scream that the neighbors heard was that of the narrator shrieking during a dream in which he killed the old man, or screamed while fantasizing about killing an old man who was not there. While looking at details of the narrative and the psychological state of the narrator the larger story as relayed by him can be called into question.