Acting class goodness:
Had to do monologues last week. We picked whatever we wanted, had total freedom. One person did a scene from Pearl Harbor. One person read a poem. One person did a scene from Jerry McGuire.
I recited the following passage from Grant Morrison's "The Invisibles."
"When we met first I promised you a secret, didnt I? A fine and shiny secret, passed from hand to hand through the years, master to pupil. Didnt I say Id tell you what cities are? Listen, then, for Ill not it a second time. Here it is as I was told it once, old but new-minted with each fresh telling. Out world is sick, boy. Very sick. A virus got in a long time ago and weve got so used to its effects, weve forgotten what it was like before we became ill. Im talking about cities, see? Human cultures were originally homeostatic; they existed in a self-sustaining equilibrium, with no notions of time and progress, like weve got. Then the city-virus got in. No ones really sure where it came from or who brought it to us, but like all viral organisms, its one directive is to use up all available resources in producing copies of itself. More and more copies until theres no raw material left and the host body, overwhelmed, can only die. The cities want us to become good builders. Eventually, well build rockets and carry the virus to other worlds. Cities have their own way of talking to you; catch sight of the reflection of a neon sign and itll spell out a magic word that summons strange dreams. Have you ever seen the word IXAT in the night? Thats one of the holy names. Or make tape recordings of the traffic noise and listen to them at night. Youll hear the voices of the city coming through, telling you things, showing you pictures. Sometimes theyll show you where they came from. In waking dreams Ive seen cemetery planets circling abandoned stars. Like mausoleums, silent and dead, every building a headstone. Thats what cities do But those of us who know the secret learn ways to unlock the power in cities. We make a pact with them and they give us gifts in return. All of my teachings are done on this level of consciousness. Thats why you cant remember where all the time has gone. Open your eyes. Go back to sleep, boy. Here endeth the lesson."
The following class, we had to do little exercises with partners. When we were first forced to choose one, two out of the three hottest girls in the class made a bee-line for me. One of them even pointed at me and made it pretty clear it was me she was after. But the other girl was closer, so she got to me first. And it wasn't one of those "oh, you're standing next to me so you'll do" deals, either. They were both across the room.
I wonder why they did this. Maybe I impressed them with my monologue? Maybe they feel sorry for me because I'm ugly and have no friends? This requires further meditation.
When we had to do the last exercise, I ended up without a partner. Somehow, the remaining girl out of the three hot girls in the class didn't have one, either. So we partnered up.
The excercise was for one person to close their eyes and let the other guide him/her around the room.
So I spent the entire time looking down her shirt while her eyes were closed.
Yeah, yeah. I'm a perv.
We have to do a scene with a partner next month. I partnered up with the shyest, most timid guy in the class. And I somehow convinced him to do the scene from "Quills" where the Marquis de Sade tries to get the priest to have sex with him.
I have a very good feeling that my antics in this class could possibly trump those done in Bible class last semester. And you all remember how that went.
Had to do monologues last week. We picked whatever we wanted, had total freedom. One person did a scene from Pearl Harbor. One person read a poem. One person did a scene from Jerry McGuire.
I recited the following passage from Grant Morrison's "The Invisibles."
"When we met first I promised you a secret, didnt I? A fine and shiny secret, passed from hand to hand through the years, master to pupil. Didnt I say Id tell you what cities are? Listen, then, for Ill not it a second time. Here it is as I was told it once, old but new-minted with each fresh telling. Out world is sick, boy. Very sick. A virus got in a long time ago and weve got so used to its effects, weve forgotten what it was like before we became ill. Im talking about cities, see? Human cultures were originally homeostatic; they existed in a self-sustaining equilibrium, with no notions of time and progress, like weve got. Then the city-virus got in. No ones really sure where it came from or who brought it to us, but like all viral organisms, its one directive is to use up all available resources in producing copies of itself. More and more copies until theres no raw material left and the host body, overwhelmed, can only die. The cities want us to become good builders. Eventually, well build rockets and carry the virus to other worlds. Cities have their own way of talking to you; catch sight of the reflection of a neon sign and itll spell out a magic word that summons strange dreams. Have you ever seen the word IXAT in the night? Thats one of the holy names. Or make tape recordings of the traffic noise and listen to them at night. Youll hear the voices of the city coming through, telling you things, showing you pictures. Sometimes theyll show you where they came from. In waking dreams Ive seen cemetery planets circling abandoned stars. Like mausoleums, silent and dead, every building a headstone. Thats what cities do But those of us who know the secret learn ways to unlock the power in cities. We make a pact with them and they give us gifts in return. All of my teachings are done on this level of consciousness. Thats why you cant remember where all the time has gone. Open your eyes. Go back to sleep, boy. Here endeth the lesson."
The following class, we had to do little exercises with partners. When we were first forced to choose one, two out of the three hottest girls in the class made a bee-line for me. One of them even pointed at me and made it pretty clear it was me she was after. But the other girl was closer, so she got to me first. And it wasn't one of those "oh, you're standing next to me so you'll do" deals, either. They were both across the room.
I wonder why they did this. Maybe I impressed them with my monologue? Maybe they feel sorry for me because I'm ugly and have no friends? This requires further meditation.
When we had to do the last exercise, I ended up without a partner. Somehow, the remaining girl out of the three hot girls in the class didn't have one, either. So we partnered up.
The excercise was for one person to close their eyes and let the other guide him/her around the room.
So I spent the entire time looking down her shirt while her eyes were closed.
Yeah, yeah. I'm a perv.
We have to do a scene with a partner next month. I partnered up with the shyest, most timid guy in the class. And I somehow convinced him to do the scene from "Quills" where the Marquis de Sade tries to get the priest to have sex with him.
I have a very good feeling that my antics in this class could possibly trump those done in Bible class last semester. And you all remember how that went.
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Journal bomb!
weeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!