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Oct. 7th, 2003 01:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
oakenguyThe good: We WON! Woo!
The bad: Fox showing the Damon/Jackson skull-to-skull collision 912,416 times, in slow-mo, from every conceivable angle. I mean, come on. Once is news, twice is thorough coverage, five or more times is ghoulish. It was also the way they kept showing it long, long after the event: I half-expected their financial news to be full of it too. "In Tokyo the Nikkei fell this evening, possibly as a reaction to THIS HEAD-ON COLLISION!" (cue baseball tape, complete with colliding-coconut sound effects)
The good: Getting two great mix CDs in the mail! With bands I've never heard before who I now have to track down, and songs I *have* heard, but not this particular remix, and...and, heck, I'm just a package junkie. I LOVE getting mail from an actual person. And having four cute bat stamps on it? Icing on the cake.
The bad: Our students are starting to practice carols so that they'll be performance-ready by December. Two months of listening to 'Jingle Bells'? Can't I complain to OSHA?
So last night was the info session and costume fitting for Kaiju's new DVD, tentatively titled Dr. Cube's Best Minion, The Man We Refer to Only as "Brian" Vs. Team Space Bug. (At least, that's what *I'm* calling it.) I had to go to a sketchy part of JP for it. Here was my route: subway station, auto yard, open doorway showing skinny rock band loading equipment, open doorway showing five-foot-high glowing egg and foam rubber lizard legs.
"Oho", sez I, "this must be the place."
So I go in, sign the actor info sheet, sign the legal forms declaring that I'm aware that this is a physical activity and when people move around sometimes bad things happen to their bodies like spontaneous decapitation, and in the event of some horrific event I will not sue anybody, but will accept a complementary sandwich.
The battle/Braveheart parody we'll be filming on Saturday is a fight between the two main evil factions, alien ants newly hatched by Team Space Bug and the antifreeze-for-brains zombie minions of Dr. Cube's Posse. The swarm actors are all about synchronized movement and have really nice outfits; the zombies wear any ol' thing, lurch, twitch, and fall down a lot. So already you can see the English vs. Scots parallels being developed by the creative team. ;)
So, a good night. And then I look around at the other volunteers and realize there are two people I know.
Person the first: Once upon a time there was a happy performance art troupe called the Art Cheerleaders, who tried to be subversive and funny and athletic. But the co-captain of the troupe had a very large, bald boyfriend about twenty years older than her. When you knew him a little you noticed that whenever he talked (and he talked a LOT) these little flecks of spit would form in the corners of his mouth and dry there. And when you knew him a lot you heard the story of how he'd been brainwashed and abused by a nasty cult, and whenever he was under stress he'd have flashbacks to the physical abuse. But you also heard about his rich family and all the rich friends he knew in Manhattan who'd donate thousands and thousands of dollars to the troupe, and that turned out to be not 100% true. So other stories got taken with a grain of salt (or dried spit), too.
In short, it was a Bad Relationship, and one of the main reasons the troupe fell apart and lawsuits got filed and much unpleasantness happened.
And here he is, preparing to be a Zombie Minion. Which, as someone who escaped a dangerous cult, I would think would be the *last* thing he'd be into. But hey.
The other person I vaguely recognize is a stylish woman with short hair in a really nice leather Farscape-y jacket, and she sorta recognizes me, too--we squint and shake hands and she decides we both must be friends of Cara. I don't recognize the name Cara, but hey, it's a big world and I've met a lot of people and it sounds plausible. So we ride the subway together and talk.
And as we talk it hits me who she reminds me of, and it's this artist who's a transgendered pre-op who I worked with on a show and who freaked me out a tiny bit at that event by listing "having wild sex in public" as one of her performance art projects. But I can't think of a good way to phrase this and I'm not *sure* it's her, so as we're riding I'm trying to look at her more closely and see if she has an adam's apple, or a little stubble, and I just can't make up my mind. It takes about a half hour before she drops the right reference and we realize we were both at last week's fire spin and THAT'S where we know each other, and that she's not a transgendered performance artist at all.
(At least, as far as I know).
And at this realization, there are many relieved comments which ran through my head but were NOT uttered, including "I remembered you as being a lot less gender-neutral" and
"Oh, right, you're the one who set her back on fire!" What actually emerged from my mouth was "Oh, right! You're...YOU!" For I have an amazing skill with the language known as English.
The bad: Fox showing the Damon/Jackson skull-to-skull collision 912,416 times, in slow-mo, from every conceivable angle. I mean, come on. Once is news, twice is thorough coverage, five or more times is ghoulish. It was also the way they kept showing it long, long after the event: I half-expected their financial news to be full of it too. "In Tokyo the Nikkei fell this evening, possibly as a reaction to THIS HEAD-ON COLLISION!" (cue baseball tape, complete with colliding-coconut sound effects)
The good: Getting two great mix CDs in the mail! With bands I've never heard before who I now have to track down, and songs I *have* heard, but not this particular remix, and...and, heck, I'm just a package junkie. I LOVE getting mail from an actual person. And having four cute bat stamps on it? Icing on the cake.
The bad: Our students are starting to practice carols so that they'll be performance-ready by December. Two months of listening to 'Jingle Bells'? Can't I complain to OSHA?
So last night was the info session and costume fitting for Kaiju's new DVD, tentatively titled Dr. Cube's Best Minion, The Man We Refer to Only as "Brian" Vs. Team Space Bug. (At least, that's what *I'm* calling it.) I had to go to a sketchy part of JP for it. Here was my route: subway station, auto yard, open doorway showing skinny rock band loading equipment, open doorway showing five-foot-high glowing egg and foam rubber lizard legs.
"Oho", sez I, "this must be the place."
So I go in, sign the actor info sheet, sign the legal forms declaring that I'm aware that this is a physical activity and when people move around sometimes bad things happen to their bodies like spontaneous decapitation, and in the event of some horrific event I will not sue anybody, but will accept a complementary sandwich.
The battle/Braveheart parody we'll be filming on Saturday is a fight between the two main evil factions, alien ants newly hatched by Team Space Bug and the antifreeze-for-brains zombie minions of Dr. Cube's Posse. The swarm actors are all about synchronized movement and have really nice outfits; the zombies wear any ol' thing, lurch, twitch, and fall down a lot. So already you can see the English vs. Scots parallels being developed by the creative team. ;)
So, a good night. And then I look around at the other volunteers and realize there are two people I know.
Person the first: Once upon a time there was a happy performance art troupe called the Art Cheerleaders, who tried to be subversive and funny and athletic. But the co-captain of the troupe had a very large, bald boyfriend about twenty years older than her. When you knew him a little you noticed that whenever he talked (and he talked a LOT) these little flecks of spit would form in the corners of his mouth and dry there. And when you knew him a lot you heard the story of how he'd been brainwashed and abused by a nasty cult, and whenever he was under stress he'd have flashbacks to the physical abuse. But you also heard about his rich family and all the rich friends he knew in Manhattan who'd donate thousands and thousands of dollars to the troupe, and that turned out to be not 100% true. So other stories got taken with a grain of salt (or dried spit), too.
In short, it was a Bad Relationship, and one of the main reasons the troupe fell apart and lawsuits got filed and much unpleasantness happened.
And here he is, preparing to be a Zombie Minion. Which, as someone who escaped a dangerous cult, I would think would be the *last* thing he'd be into. But hey.
The other person I vaguely recognize is a stylish woman with short hair in a really nice leather Farscape-y jacket, and she sorta recognizes me, too--we squint and shake hands and she decides we both must be friends of Cara. I don't recognize the name Cara, but hey, it's a big world and I've met a lot of people and it sounds plausible. So we ride the subway together and talk.
And as we talk it hits me who she reminds me of, and it's this artist who's a transgendered pre-op who I worked with on a show and who freaked me out a tiny bit at that event by listing "having wild sex in public" as one of her performance art projects. But I can't think of a good way to phrase this and I'm not *sure* it's her, so as we're riding I'm trying to look at her more closely and see if she has an adam's apple, or a little stubble, and I just can't make up my mind. It takes about a half hour before she drops the right reference and we realize we were both at last week's fire spin and THAT'S where we know each other, and that she's not a transgendered performance artist at all.
(At least, as far as I know).
And at this realization, there are many relieved comments which ran through my head but were NOT uttered, including "I remembered you as being a lot less gender-neutral" and
"Oh, right, you're the one who set her back on fire!" What actually emerged from my mouth was "Oh, right! You're...YOU!" For I have an amazing skill with the language known as English.
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no subject
Date: 2003-10-07 10:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-07 11:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-07 01:56 pm (UTC)If I see Jackson and Damon collide one more time my teeth are going to fall out. GAH! enough already!
good to hear the gal you recognized wasn't the odd one :)