Honest, Eminent, Keen Rants
I don’t have much experience with MySpace. I tried to set up a page there for myself, but found it too time-consuming. Plus, I already have this lovely site, so why do I need to bother with another.
However, I did receive an email today from a friend who just set up his own MySpace site. He even put up some of his music.
Check it out:
Moe Gorman’s MySpace Page
Technorati Tags: MySpace, Moe Gorman, music, blog, PEI
Did you see the South Park episode where a statue of The Virgin Mary starts bleeding? First it was thought to be bleeding from the vagina, then it was discovered to be bleeding from the anus. Regardless, people flocked.
Well, Tignish, long-thought to be the anus of PEI, has at least a few people flocking to see the Religious Wonder Of It All.
SideBar: How many sheep must congregate before it’s considered a flock?
Perhaps due to chewing one-too-many moldy Communion Wafers, someone in Tignish has looked upon a cloth in a church and Has Seen The Face Of Jesus.
The first question, of course, is “Is it too late to get this into this year’s Tourist Guide?” Gentle Island, indeed!
Second question, of course, is “Why in the hell would Jesus and His crew ever bother to manifest His visage on a cloth in a nothing (universally speaking) town like Tignish?” And why would He make it so blurry and hard to discern whether it even is a face (let alone the face of Jesus) and not just residue left over because of too much detergent in the wash? Why be so unclear?
Some, I suppose, may say “It’s a test. Only the true-believer will accept it as Jesus.” Okay. To what end? To see who is truly worthy of ascension? If so, why go about it in this way? Is there a space-problem in Heaven? Are Heavenly souls starting to have to double-bunk? No? Why be so subtle, then?
Why not make a more emphatic presense of Yourself, something everyone can get behind, so that there can be no doubt that This Is Jesus And We All Believe?
Either Jesus has a really bad marketing team, or He has a sense of humour and is toying with the believers (if so, I think he needs a new gag. This joke has been seen enough, thanks. Maybe he’s waiting for Bruce Vilanch to die before he gets new material), or (and this is what I believe) it’s absolutely nothing.
For the longest while, I thought it’d be neat if someone was to do a live-action version of an episode of The Simpsons. You know, take an existing episode and reproduce, shot for shot, angle for angle, an entire episode, using real-life actors.
With this video, looks like somebody’s one step ahead of me.
Sir Paul McCartney and his wife, Lady Heather Mills McCartney, were on our little province island of Prince Edward Island this week to speak out against the annual seal hunt. They were asked to come, I assume, because Loretta Switt wasn’t getting it done anymore, publicity-wise. In truth, Hot Lips was barely getting it done. Even when she was The Big Name Celebrity Speaking Out Against Cruelty, we all knew she was really The Former Big Name Celebrity, Etc. Still, every year, here she’d come, with fewer and fewer reporters caring, stay a few days, get her waxy face on as many news publications as she could, climb into her own M.A.S.H unit (Mobile Anti-Seal Helicopter), take a spin out to the Maritime Killing Fields, spend 3.2 minutes out in the cold for another photo-op with a specially selected (probably) bleached-white baby seal.
I have reliable information that the PETA Laboratories (which is a contradiction of terms if I ever heard one) have recently begun to try breed seals and parrots, hoping that they can create a baby seal that sounds like it talks. The goal, of course, would be to show us humans how human these defenseless baby seals are when they’re capable of saying “Polly wants a sturgeon”. Nobody would dare kill them, then. Except, I guess, the Anti-Sturgeon Hunt people. Unfortunately for the anti-seal hunters, as of this writing, all attempts to create a parrot-seal hybrid have failed. Closest they came to getting a seal to sound human only ended up sounding a bit like Terry Shiavo in her final weeks. Ironically, Terry Shiavo, in her final weeks, sounded exactly like a baby seal. Two steps forward, two steps back PETA Labs!
So, for the past decade or so, they’d Calogen Loretta’s lips up (my Hollywood sources say that in certain circles, she’s now known as Fat Lips. Of course, in most Hollywood circles, she’s known as “Who?”), and give her a one-way ticket to PEI to do her thing. Yes, a one-way ticket. We’d always, naturally, return her, free of charge, because, well, would you want her around? The thing is, is that lately, we all knew Loretta’s Spotlight Time was up when, two years ago she said “Do I really have to get out of the helicopter again this year? Can’t we just use stock footage of me from last year?” The reply to that, everyone suddenly realised, was “You are stock footage, Miss Switt.” Yes, dear reader, the anti-sealers needed a new spokes-person, and so, the search began for the next Soap-Box Celebrity. And the word went out, far and wide: “Which washed up vegetarian has a new movie, album, or reality show coming up?” The answer: Paul McCartney. (and his new album is pretty darn good, too). And, yes, his wife has to come too. (probably because his new wife doesn’t sing on it, like Linda did)
Well, The McCartneys have certainly stirred up the controversy, and injected a much-needed jolt of outrage into the annual seal hunt. They even got an hour on CNN’s The Larry King Show.
For the anti-sealing lobby, this has to be seen as a huge victory, and lots of money will come their way, in the way of donations of support. Of course, in four weeks, it’ll all be forgotten. Until next year. Memo to Gillian Anderson: want to try to resurrect your career? Well, what are you doing in March, 2007? Ever hear of PEI? How ’bout Nova Scotia?
Actually, Paul McCartney is an inspired choice to be anti-sealing spokesperson. He’s long been a supporter of animal rights, and hasn’t eaten an animal since that time he accidentally bit the leg of Eric Burden in a London orgy club in 1967. Some people may think that Paul is new to the seal protest, but actually has been anti-seal-hunt for a long, long time. I’m pretty sure I read once where, back in 1961, when The Beatles were performing in Frankfurt, Paul actually refused to play in the Reeperbahn bar known as Die Dichtung Holzhammer. Loosely translated, means The Seal Club. Also, Paul has a certain connection with seals and their ilk, ever since the late 60’s when it was discovered that Paul was The Walrus.
And what do I think about the seal hunt? Well, I’m a pretty cold-hearted guy and I don’t buy into the whole “killing cute baby seals is wrong” thing. The focusing on the ‘cute’ is sensationalistic and makes me only hear that side of the debate as propoganda. It bugs me the way, as Lady Heather Mills McCartney did, the anti-seal hunt people persist in trying to humanize the seals. On Larry King there was a clip where she was saying how wouldn’t it be awful if you had your baby taken away at one month old and killed in a vicious way. That is exactly the kind of bullshit, sentimental, propoganda crap that I hate.
I have no strong convictions either for or against the seal hunt. But I do think Prince Edward Island can benefit from it though, in terms of global recognition. Every year, it’s like a free tourism ad. “PEI- The Gentle and Viciously Cruel To Seals Island” PEI – Winter or Summer, all you need is one bag: In the summer, fill it with golf clubs. In the winter, fill it with either seal clubs, or outrage. We’ll welcome you all!
My solution to the seal hunt: offer all the sealers 70% of the income they would have made, on the provision that they don’t show up. That way, only the serious sealers will be there. You know, the ones who really want to kill seals.
Of course, PEI still has a long way to go to get the global recognition we desire. On Larry King, when the Premier of Newfoundland invited Paul and his wife to come to Newfoundland to get that province’s perspective on the debate, Paul, ignorantly said “we already are here. We’re in a studio right now, in Newfoundland”. The premier had to inform Sir Paul that he was, in fact, in PEI.
Damn, that hurts. Like a club to the head.
Technorati Tags: SealHunt, PEI, PaulMcCartney
I went last night to see both screenings of Reel Shorts at the Reel Island Film Festival. That’s a lot of sitting in those City Cinema seats, I’ll tell ya!
Here, then, are my opinions on what I saw:
Pete Murphy’s “The Olde Christmas Spirit” was shown first. Frankly, this was a rough piece of work. Pete, I think, has an interesting eye, but this film (as well as the few other films of his I’ve seen) suffers from poor acting, worse sound and lazy editing. The story and script, too, could have benefitted tremendously from a prudent editor.
The acting in the first scene was, I’d have to describe as, plodding. Very slow and deliberate. Couple that with languid edits and the film starts off at a less than energetic pace. And slows down from there. The main trouble with the acting of the lead actor is that he tries too too hard to act Angst and tries to play “Cool guy” too much. His acting gets in the way of his, well, acting.
I could go on, I suppose, but I have to live in this town.
Next up was “Snowbird” The Search for Lonestar” by Scott Parsons. An interesting, but slightly flawed, docu-drama on the origins of Gene McLellan’s song Snowbird. I say flawed because of too much reliance on voice-over narration to tell us what is going on. It results in too much telling us the drama rather than showing us the drama. The story is about this woman trying to find out about a guy named Lonestar, a former lover, who apparently co-wrote a song about her with Gene McLellan. She’s trying to find out about the song. Turns out the song is Snowbird. Little things bugged me. Like when we flashback to the woman’s younger days, when she’s with Lonestar, she’s wearing the same short denim shorts that she’s wearing in “present day”. And there was no attempt to make her look younger in those flashback scenes. Maybe that was a conscious decision, but to me it belied the reality of those scenes where she was supposed to be a teenager. Especially since her “youthfulness” was supposed to be the thing that sets of the rest of the story. Small complaints, really.
Third was Louise Lalonde’s “Courir la chandeleur”, a re-enactment of an old Acadien soiree, performed by Birchwood Intermediate French Immersion students. This was an enjoyable film. Yes, the acting of the junior high kids was pretty amateurish (and some of their French Immersion french was pretty rough), but their energy and enjoyment of the experience kept me interested. Probably could have shortened the amount of time we see them dancing to a tune, though. That seemed to go on a bit too long.
Speaking of going on a bit too long: Jeremy Larter’s “A.J.” was a film that I absolutely hated and couldn’t wait for it to be over. Basically, this was a masterbatory piece of shit, where one guy, Jeremy Larter, points his camera at another guy (forget his name) who plays A.J. who may or may not be mentally handicapped and gets him to do “funny” stuff. What a piece of crap and a waste of my time! Scene after scene of this guy doing stupid, barely interesting, things. There was no apparent attempt at structure. Just random scene after scene of boring “look at me and how car-aaazy! I am” bullshit.
Thank goodness for Joey Weale’s “Flagwar”. Basically, this film documents an elaborate game of capture the flag on the streets of Charlottetown. Very well done, it kept me interested and entertained for almost its entirety. I say “almost” because my only criticism is that it may be a few minutes too long, and a couple of times I wanted the action to move along, rather than showing me, yet again different versions of basically the same scene or idea. The film employed a lot of still-photos to further the action, and at first I was worried that such a technique might bog the film down. Nobody likes a slideshow, right. But, to his credit, Joey made it work beautifully. He used all kinds of tricks and techniques (without making them feel simply like tricks or techniques) to keep the action moving forward and to keep the audience engrossed and it worked wonderfully. It’s apparent that a great deal of thought and effort went into the production of film, and I was very much impressed with the whole thing.
Of the first round of Reel Shorts, Flagwar got my “viewer’s choice” vote.
The second round of Reel Shorts was basically a display of the talents of Fox Henderson. Five of the nine shorts were either “all credits by Fox Henderson” and one other (Jack and The Mud Queen) utilized his studio and talents (to the point where I thought it was another by him, but in fact was directed by Devon McGregor). Rather than go through each of his films, I’ll offer a general opinion of his work. First of all, it’s obvious that he’s a very talented guy and so much of his work is impressive. Last year, he had a few animated films entered in RIFF 3, and my criticism then was that his films were technically interesting but failed on the story, editing and acting fronts. This year, all that improved dramatically, and I was very impressed with practically all of his work. Dan Caseley was very good playing Mr. Death in a couple of very funny silent movies. One aspect of his work that I don’t care for is in his choice to re-record the dialogue in a controlled environment (just like the big movie-makers do). While I understand the desire to want to control the sound, it can really adversely affect the performances if the actors aren’t up to the over-dubbing task. This was most apparent in my least favourite of his films “They That Did Dream”. The dialogue-audio re-dubbing was very intrusive to the enjoyment of the film. But, since I didn’t like the story at all anyway, I doubt that better audio would have helped much.
I was very much impressed with the look of Jack and The Mud Queen, and the acting of the lead actor was good, but, like other films presented, this story needed to move along a lot more quickly. Once again, plodding direction gets in the way.
Onto the non-Fox Henderson films of Reel Shorts 2:
Daniel Arsenault’s “Music Has Family Roots” was a trifling bit of music video. Basically a single-camera, one shot thing showing two live musical performances of Michael and Robert Pendergast. Apart from a slightly interesting projection effect, there wasn’t much of interest in this, as a film. The music performances were good, though.
“This and That” by Richie Mitchell was a film that I ended up not “getting”. I think it was about a guy who desired to be a gay thief, but wasn’t because of a priest in a car who followed him around. In one reality he has a companion who may or may not be his lover, and they steal some money from a store owner. In another reality, he is alone, with no companion, and rather than steal from, is given an envelope by, the store owner. He then gives the envelope to the priest. When he sees his alternate-universe companion crossing the street, he gasps, but the priest shakes his head “no”. ??? There are also some shots of a woman walking down the street. She has been shopping. I didn’t like this one very much.
And the other non-Fox film was my very own, Christmas Lights. This film, of course, is brilliant, and above criticism. Seriously, though, I am very proud of this film and think it’s a pretty good piece of work. It’s a tight, compact, funny piece of tragic-comedy. The audience seemed to like it quite a bit.
I do think (not really), however, that a conspiracy was hatched to confuse the audience (perhaps in an attempt to keep me from any chance of winning “viewer’s choice”?). First of all, on the website, my film was shown as being directed by Jason Rogerson. That was later corrected. Then, on the Viewer’s Choice slips of paper that each audience member was given, Driving Lights was shown as being directed by Rob MacLean. And, the title on the actual film is “Christmas Lights” not Driving Lights, but I think that one was an honest mistake. All the rest, though, is an obvious attempt to confuse the audience.
Of the second round of Reel Shorts, I voted Christmas Lights as my “viewer’s choice”. If it wasn’t in the running, then my vote would have gone to Fox Henderson’s “The Last Days of Death: After Life”. It was a very funny piece of comedy and my only criticisms of it are that it is too long and the joke doesn’t go anywhere. Each scene is merely a different version of the same joke. It is only too long because it’s one-joke retold again and again. And again. I wanted each scene to build on the previous scenes in some way, but they didn’t. As a result, the joke didn’t have a conclusion. It just ended.
In the past, I’ve railed against the Reel Island Film Festival for showing films that I didn’t think were good enough to be shown. I complained that RIFF’s eyes were bigger than its stomach. Meaning that the festival was too big for the amount and quality of films it screened. This year’s event, due to a lack of funding, was very much paired down compared to previous RIFF festivals. Whereas in the past, they might have tried to have two evenings of shorts screenings and would have had to “water down” the overall quality in order to fill up all the slots, this year’s festival, I think, benefitted by the single night (of shorts). The result was an evening with a pretty solid lineup of shorts. An impressive variety of films.
I do think they need to be careful, though, with the potential problem that the RIFF could turn into the Fox Henderson Film Festival. Nothing against Fox, and his work is definitely worthy of being shown, but ideally, I would have liked to have seen a couple less entries from Fox and a couple more entries from other people.
I haven’t talked this over with the other guys in Sketch22, but I have come up with what I think is a pretty sweet deal for students at UPEI, and I’m sure my sketch compatriots would be cool with this.
I am hereby offering this deal to any and all UPEI students: Because some of our Sketch22 shows get over-booked during our summer run, I am going to suggest that any UPEI student who wants to say they’ve seen our show, come and pay your money for the ticket, and then not stay for the show. I promise that, if asked, I’ll say that you enjoyed the show to a degree 70% of those who’ve seen it.
You’ll be doing Sketch22 a service, because we really don’t like to perform when there’s standing room only. You’ll be doing a service to those audience members who really do want to see us.
And you’ll be getting easy credit. Isn’t that what UPEI’s all about?
I’ll also extend the offer so that it includes UPEI faculty, ex-faculty, members of the board and administration, and janitors.
Registrars shall remain exempt.
Ten years ago, I spent a winter writing some short stories, based on the pervasiveness of the Anne of Green Gables culture of the Island.
Over the holidays, as I was transferring files from an old dying computer, to a newer computer, I came across the folder of stories and started reading some of them. One was kind of a comedic horror story called Copper Acropolis. It has some funny elements to it, and some of the writing is kinda good, so I thought I’d serialize it here on The Annekenstein Monster. Keep in mind, though, that it hasn’t met an editor, so please, treat it with kindness.
Copper Acropolis is kind of a cross between Anne of Green Gables and Frankenstein. Annekenstein itself, of course, was also the same amalgam of themes. Anyway, read it or not, here is the first chapter (of 10).
Chapter One:
‘Tarnished Homes and Egg Rolls’
The old mansion stood atop one of the steeper hills in the community of Afton Road, overlooking the sinewy end of the East River tributary that flowed from the Hillsborough Bay. A blood red dirt drive, its connection to Route 2 hidden amidst a heavy growth of scrub brush, peristaltically wound its way up the hill, through an overgrown grove of dying willow trees, breaking into an open field of grass that surrounded the large, ivory-white edifice.
The mansion was a three and a half story building; the top half story being composed of a large dome, which some of the older people around Afton Road claimed at one time housed an observatory. A number of Greek columns supported the expansive veranda that occupied the whole width of the front of the house. Above the large, wooden double front doors, ‘Copper Acropolis’ was engraved into the sandstone; the engraving now as faded and worn as the rest of the stone of the house.
Large blocks of red Island sandstone were used as a facade around the house. At some point in its life, the structure was bathed in a heavy coat of whitewash paint. Due to the heavy, hard rains of countless springs, and the wind and snows of years of harsh Island winters, the whitewash had faded off the red stone in such a way that gave the impression, to those who saw the house from Route 2, that the building was bleeding.
Other than the blood-dripping red and bird-turd white of the faded whitewash stone, the only other colour to be seen on the outside of the mansion was the tarnished green of the window shutters, gables, and the many buttresses of the observation dome. These adornments were all made of pure copper, and, when first installed on the house, how many years ago, no doubt would have been striking in their burnished copper lustre. Now, through years of neglect, they looked dirty. Thick green tarnished residue, along with the faecal droppings of generations of crows and other birds, had built up on the shutters, gables and dome over the years of negligence. This, along with the blood-dripping walls, its isolation high atop that steep hill, and the fact that no one lived in it for years, gave the mansion an ominous and mysterious reputation. No one now living in the community knew precisely how long it stood there, or whom had it built, but those of them who studied such things claimed that based on the style of its architecture, it was likely built in the first half of the 19th century.
Many in and around Afton Road believed it to be haunted.
Doctor Lucille Dewar was the present owner of Copper Acropolis. Born on Prince Edward Island, Lucille, at the age of five, lost both her loving parents. They, Lucille and her parents, were spectators of an afternoon card of horse-racing at the Charlottetown Driving Park during Old Home Week, when a competing horse went mad just as they were rounding the six-eighths’ pole for home in Race Three and jumped the fence. The horse, sulky, and jockey all landed squarely on Lucille’s parents, killing them and the jockey. The horse was later shot. Lucille was given the opportunity to pull the triggers on the double-barrelled shotgun, but had declined to do so.
Lucille escaped death that day because at the time of the accident, she was off buying an ice cream, a rare treat for a country girl. She had escaped death, but over the next fifteen years wished many times that she had died that day with her parents. For on that day her life turned upside down. From her birth, right up to the untimely end of the infamous Race Three at the CDP, Lucille had been a happy, intelligent, and well-mannered child. After that day, however, love and joy left Lucille’s heart. She was forced to live with her relatives, none of whom she cared for, nor whom cared for her, and who would often only take her for a short while before shuttling her off to the next furthest out relative. Eventually, at the age of eleven, the list of relatives ran out and she was placed in the Mount Herbert Children’s Orphanage.
Despite the hardship and uncertainty of her life, she managed to excel in each and every public school at which she was enrolled, and also at the orphanage school. Lucille Dewar was a genius. She was sure of it. When she was twelve, and not trusting the Island’s teachers or doctors to test her adequately, she devised her own test to find her Intelligence Quotient. She scored very high. She knew that with her keen intellect and burning desire for knowledge, she was bound for greatness. And it was this belief that kept her spirit alive.
But where her education flourished, her social life died. Because of her high intelligence, and her being new to each school every year, sometimes twice a year, she was hated by her class mates and became a social outcast. As soon as she came of age, she kept promising herself, as boys pulled her hair or called her names, she would move away, off the Island, to pursue her higher education. She came to hate Prince Edward Island and its intolerably ignorant and mean-spirited children.
When she finally did become legal, she had briefly considered moving to Charlottetown to live, but feeling that the small Prince of Wales College there could not offer her the quality of instruction that her knowledge-absorbing brain required, ended up deciding to make a clean break from the Island.
After a twenty-six year absence, she returned to P.E.I., unmarried, now a doctor and very wealthy. One of the Island newspapers reported the ‘Prodigal Island Girl Returns Home A Millionaire Doctor’ and an interest in her began to grow. Her sudden return to the Island; her unexplained, more-than-you-could-make-as-a-doctor wealth; her spinsterish, and frugal lifestyle; her use of strange, big words made her an enigmatic celebrity on the Island. When asked what areas of study she had pursued away, or, how she, an unmarried woman, came upon such a fortune, she remained imperspicuous.
Years of social outcasting had, seemingly, evaporated any skills she may have had to handle the sudden popularity. The more questions people asked of her, the less she told. And the less she told, the more people wanted to know about her. She wasn’t impolite in her silence, and sometimes seemed to enjoy the attention she received wherever she would go. Soon it became an Island obsession to speculate on the mystery that was Doctor Lucille Dewar.
And when she, against the advice of everyone but the real estate agent, (there were even letters to the editors of the papers advising her against it), went and bought the dilapidated old mansion with the strange name of ‘Copper Acropolis’ and became a total recluse, the obsession grew to the height of its fever. But like all fevers, once this one reached its height, it quickly fell, and the mania surrounding the mysterious and eremitic Doctor Dewar eventually died, and everyone left her alone in her big house to do whatever it was that she did. Even the speculation as to what she did in that big house gradually ended.
After that, the only time her name even came up in the newspaper was when she hired, as a manservant and chauffeur, the Charlottetown Chinese restaurateur named Yune Mune. Yune came under her employ approximately three years after the ‘fever’ broke, about four years after her initial return to the Isle.
Yune, a handsome, classy gentleman, had owned The Blue Mune, the first Chinese restaurant in Charlottetown. When the local newspapers disclosed that he was being investigated for allegedly caressing and speaking indecencies to a rich, married, and well respected female patron, he, despite his claims that the indecencies and caresses were mutually entertained and embarked upon, was, due to public outrage, forced to close down his previously successful enterprise.
Dr. Dewar wrote him a letter offering employment. He accepted, quickly sold his property for a ridiculously small amount and moved into Copper Acropolis. Two months later, a page six article in the newspaper cleared him of any wrongdoing after the rich, married, and well respected female patron dropped her charge, was divorced from her husband and moved to the Yukon with a black lumberjack out of Halifax. At this point, hardly anyone saw, or cared that they did or didn’t see Doctor Lucille Dewar. Occasionally she would be seen, with Yune Mune driving about the countryside. She almost never emerged from the mansion. Yune Mune was her link to the community of Afton Road, and to the world. She was forgotten.
————-
Stay tuned for the next exciting chapter of Copper Acropolis, right here on The Annekenstein Monster!
As I was leaving rehearsal today, and walking to my car, I passed the UpperRoom/Foodbank, which is just behind the Guild.
As I was passing, I saw three older men, probably late 50’s, standing outside the door. As it was around 5pm, I assumed them to be waiting to eat. By their appearance, and their location, I assumed them to be some of Charlottetown’s destitute. They were in conversation. As I got close enough, I got to hear a snippet of their conversation:
"…does blowjobs to get some. I haven’t done that yet…"
None of these men are what one would consider handsome. I am still having a hard time trying not to conjure up mental images.
More out-loud thinking like this, please. I have no idea whether his suggestions are viable or cost-effective, but Alberton/Mimigenish MLA Cletus Dunn should be commended for being willing to be criticized for such grandiose thoughts.
I particularly like elementary school being grades 1-9.
It’s that time of year, when The Buzz’s August supplemental "Caught In The Act" to be perused, line by line by those summer performers on PEI who have a vested interest in the reviews of summer theatrical productions.
First off, I want to say thanks to Joseph Sherman for writing an accurate review of Canada Rocks. I think he’s spot on with his criticisms and it’s good to see them in print. Especially on the opposite side of the page to the full page Confed Centre AoGG ad.
I’d also like to thank Norah Pendergast for her, well, positive review of Sketch 22. While I find it hard to believe statements like "the show is as memorable and hilarious as any show, any time, anywhere", I do appreciate the enthusiasm.
I’m glad that Norah "got" the show (and I don’t mean that to sound condescending as if our show is not one that is easily ‘gotten’.). Our fear with this year’s show (not just for reviewers, but for all who see it) is that they’d see the explicit trees only and miss the forest; that the vulgarities and obscenities would overshadow the comedy that we present.
We are glad that this is not the case. Most everyone who sees the show is embracing the raunchiness, and that makes me glad.
Back to the review. My criticism of it (and of others, particularly the 4 Skits Sake ‘review’) is that it reads more like a press release than a review. But that is too much nitpicking on my part.
Thanks very much, Norah, for appreciating the show with such kind words. I particularly liked: "Sketch 22 succeeds in leaping beyond the boundaries of social acceptability while maintaining moral integrity, therein lies its true brilliance."
Flattering.
The Annekenstein Monster 