Originalism...

I was reading an article on Cracked.com (forwarded by my dear friend the Manhunter from Mars), when I tripped over a different story they wrote about plagiarism. Apparently, some outfit in Mexico stole some of their material and posted it on their site in entirety--including linking directly to the images in the Cracked data files on the web. Not terribly smart. The article is about the retribution visited upon them, and is rather funny (you can read it here if you want).

Anyway, the whole thing struck me as rather funny (funny weird, not funny ha-ha), because my girlfriend had just a few days earlier quoted Paul Gaugin, who said: "Art is either plagiarism or revolution." I really like this quote, especially since one of my most deep-rooted fears as an artist is that my work will end up derivative. I find it inspiring, and it challenges me to take chances and make bold leaps.

My previous favorite motto (one I used with dripping sarcasm) was one I had always attributed to Mark Twain: "Creativity is the art of concealing your source." But when I tried to look it up on Google last night, all I could find was "Originality is the art of concealing your source," credited to a Franklin P. Jones. Ironically enough, Answers.com says, "Unfortunately, the identity of Franklin P. Jones is not clear. Some ... refer to him as an American businessman who lived from 1887-1929, while others refer to him as an American humorist who lived from 1853-1935. A bit of research has identified a Franklin Pierce Jones ... who lived between 1874 and 1953 and had a successful furniture store in Clinton, Oklahoma, after working as a farmer in Missouri." I entered just the quote into google, and found it attributed to Norman Lear, Coco Chanel, and--perhaps most disturbing--a Pastor named Rick Warren.

This prompted me to look up what other people said about creativity and originality, and here is what I found:

"Many a man fails as an original thinker simply because his memory is too good." --Friedrich Nietzsche (the "What doesn't kill me makes me stronger" guy)

"What is originality? Undetected plagiarism." --William Ralph Inge (the edgy clergyman)

"Originality is the fine art of remembering what you hear but forgetting where you heard it." --Laurence J. Peter (the guy who read a lot of Nietzsche in college but forgot it all)

I trust you find the humor in a post about plagiarism composed entirely of others' thoughts on the matter.

"Have a nice day." --Forrest Gump

Saving Captain Spielberg...

I watched that movie last night. That one with Tom Hanks and Matt Damon. Saving Private Ryan. I am stunned. But not in the way you might think.

I found the combat scenes to be very disturbing. Having spent time in the military, it caused me understandable angst. Even though I never personally experienced people trying to kill me (I got out three months before Desert Shield), the feeling was very familiar--they reference the acronym FUBAR in the movie, and that almost nearly summed it up for me. (Personally, I prefer SNAFU--look them up on google if you don't know them already.)

The production team for the movie spared no detail from the combat scenes--barrels of blood, local military used as extras (including actual amputees for the oh-my-god-my-limb-has-just-been-blown-off scenes) and actual live fire of period weapons for sound. The combat was so accurate, the VA (Department of Veterans' Affairs) overstaffed their trauma 800-number and extended the hours after the release of the movie (see this VA newsletter, bottom of page six).

While for various reasons a discussion of the violence in the movie might be interesting, I was rather put off by the storytelling, and in particular, the end of the movie. If you haven't seen it (I know, you're rolling your eyes because I am the last person on the earth to have seeen this movie), there are spoilers coming, so scroll up or something if you don't want to read them.

Okay, here we go. I have conflicted opinions about the characters in the squad, and I have big problems with the unrealism of their task. (The army is disorganized so well, it installs steel plates in a glider that cause it to crash, but it will send eight men on a rescue extraction immediately following the largest invasion of the war? Hrm.) Here's my biggest gripe, though. I didn't want to hear, after all the shit this group of individuals had to go through for this one man who didn't even want to be rescued, that he should "earn" his life. And then see how that guilt had ridden on his back for sixty years.

I found Spielberg's preaching in Schindler's List to be effective once. Once. He saved 1,100 people from the Nazis, and all he could do at the end was cry: "This pin... This is gold. Two more people. He would have given me two for it, at least one... I could have gotten one more person... and I didn't! And I... I didn't!" It was novel in Schindler; I got it. I wanted to do more for others, and less for myself, than I had before (and I was doing a LOT at the time).

What should I take away from this film? An impression of the sacrifice of the men (and women) who served in times before so that we could enjoy the freedoms we have, or a feeling that I personally am not doing enough, am not good enough, am not living life as fully as I should? Spielberg claimed over and over that he wanted to make an authentic film with Ryan. Great. Then do that. Don't limit your 'authenticity' to the violence. Extend it to the story, the people. The movie would have been better--less Spielberg-y and Hollywood--and more real, more impacting, if they had just taken Miller's last words out of it. Let Ryan come to that conclusion himself. Skip the preaching.

Sorry, fans of the film. All I got out of it was a mild case of PTSD and a wish to be excluded from Spielberg films for a while. Especially after the last Indiana Jones fiasco.

Opening weekend...

The kids are in bed, my stomach is full, and I am moderately content. I spent yesterday fighting back the front lawn, which had gone waaaaaaaay too long without a shave. How long? My father saw it on Thing 2's birthday and commented 'your neighbors are going to kick you out of the neighborhood.' My dog would run through the grass, and I would lose sight of her. I felt like Allan Quatermain, hacking through some tropical locale with a machete.

Today I played around in the back yard, swept the patio off and set out the outside furniture in a way I thought might be appealing. And I actually sat on one of the chairs with a Sunset magazine (one of my favorite publications in the whole wide world) and dreamt of other things I might do to/with the garden areas whilst sipping my morning coffee. (Yeah, the Manhunter's comment hit home a bit, thank you very much.)

The big news, though, is the show, of course. The Blue Room opened this weekend, and I was pleased with my performance, overall. The show is a real challenge, artcraft-wise. There are two actors playing five characters each in ten scenes (get a math tutor if you need help figuring that out). The play is about how we, as people, are--the things we crave, the way we modify our behavior based on who we're with, and the mistakes we make. I hate to use the word "real", especially in this context, as it is overused and therefore undervalued (like the word "awesome" has become). But the show is especially interesting in that, instead of external obstacles like an antagonist or some time deadline, the barriers these characters face are primarily internal. It makes for quite a challenge, overall.

We opened this weekend opposite a huge commotion in the mainstage theater--there was a benefit with a big name actor doing a one-man show. But we still had reasonably seated houses, and a GREAT audience today. This was a particularly nice surprise, since the Sunday matinees are usually an older, quieter crowd. But for whatever reason--Denise thinks it may be because the show is so real and they have all "been there"--this was the liveliest house we had all weekend. They were ooing and ahing and commenting all throughout--it was fascinating.

I had a wonderful evening with my sons, eating and watching Shrek, which we hadn't seen in so long we forgot all the subplots. (If you have kids, you know the wonderful, refreshing feeling that comes from that--instead of watching the same movies over and over again.) Now I'm going to take a gander at Saving Private Ryan, which just came on, do some laundry during the commercials, and fricken relax.

If you're an Ashton Kucher fan...

...you probably shouldn't read this post.

I went to a site called My Heritage that is a genealogy site of sorts. One of the applets they have on the site is a photo comparison page that allows you to upload a personal photo, and then compares your photo to those of celebrities, trying to find a look alike. How this is supposed to help you find family members, I have no idea--seems like a reach to me. (For example, I matched Tom Hanks pretty closely, according to the site.)

Another thing it does is look for multiple images in the same photo, and offer you a step-saving look at other people at the same time. I nearly died laughing when I saw this:



You are indeed reading that correctly. It is recommending Ashton Kucher as a match...FOR THE DOOR FIXTURE. Too funny.

On the cusp...

Tonight is the one and only preview of the show I am currently in. The description reads:

The Blue Room

Written by David Hare

Directed by David Lear

A sensation in London and on Broadway, The Blue Room depicts a daisy chain of ten sexual encounters between five women and five men all portrayed by one actor and one actress. Each couple is seen working their way up to having sex. It is following a blackout that the hypocrisy, the folly and loneliness become apparent. Hare, freely adapting the original play, LaRonde by Arthur Schnitzler, has moved the action from turn of the century Vienna to modern London and infused the sketches with witty and provocative modern nuances.

All my professional life, from working as a paper boy to being in the army, from working in an office to performing on a stage, I have tried to put my best into what I do. There is nothing more frustrating, I believe, than wanting to do something well, and not being able to because of some external circumstance. When I was managing a Starbucks store, I also tried to convey to my staff that I wanted them to have everything they needed to succeed.

This production has been, unfortunately, plagued with behind-the-scenes drama. Not from the creative team, so much--my director is someone I deeply respect and admire, and my co-star is my girlfriend, who I also deeply respect and admire. But the production has no costumer, a very pared-down production budget, and has had a myriad of other challenges along the way. It has been distracting, and difficult, to continue "on with the show" in the face of some of it. But nevertheless, I am tackling the challenge and doing my best to learn from it all.

If you are considering coming to see the show, I should warn you that "The Blue Room features adult situations and nudity and is recommended for mature audiences only." The show runs the month of April--Friday-Saturday nights at 8:00pm, and Sundays at 2:00pm (no show on Easter Sunday). Ticket information is available by following the link above.

Clip of the week...

Happy April Fool's Day, readers!

In the immortal words of the Beatles...

"I'm so tired, I haven't slept a wink
I'm so tired, my mind is on the blink
I wonder should I get up and fix myself a drink
No,no,no...."

Last night was a rare chance for me to catch more than five hours sleep (that is the current running average for the last ten days). Instead, I woke at 3am to the smell of dog dung in my bedroom. Maggie had exploded, and I had to clean it up. And again at 6am. So. No sleep.

I went to work--stumbling, literally--and left early to get Thing 2 from school. (Tuesday is a half day for teachers and admin to take care of "stuff".) We went home and I made us some lunch while he did homework. It was not until after we had finished lunch and I had taken a 20 minute nap that I realized these were the shoes I wore today:



Yep. They don't match.