Game. Set. Match.

"The meeting was shifted to Monday itself, so it really doesn't look like I can make it for The Platform next week."

"Well fuck."

-Kathleen and I, in conversation, regarding the Staging of Red.


Shit happens. It seems. And apparently it decides to happen in my direction.
I promise an update of the past week, descriptions of the Forensics and my conflicted feelings with the recent few auditions well in tow.

But for now: An Interlude.

Devil’s Party. A monologue.

The stage is minimal. A chair, back facing the audience is placed left stage. Slick walks in with a bag in one hand and pills in another. Addressing the audience, he begins.

Slick: There are two things one can learn from an unusually long time spent in captivity. The first one being that you cannot die from boredom. Strange but True. The 2^nd, which is my personal fav, is just how angry you can get at your captor. The amount of animosity generated from the need for retribution. The need for judgment – Might just drive you mad…

Here’s the fun bit! I’m already insane. My “kidnapper”. My “warden” is in fact, just another (recites) manifestation of my internal subconscious. I suffer from an acute personality disorder, and one of my other halves, going by the name of a Julian managed to assume control through the wonders of modern medicine.

But, as you can see, permeated effort, enormous amounts of patience and a massively strong conviction in one’s own presence of mind will get you anywhere. I’m here now, aren’t I?

So. I can’t very well take vengeance on myself, so, I do the next best thing. Other people. Isn’t that right Mr. Watkins? Wait, no. He was the last one. My bad.

Now I’m pretty sure you lot are in no position to question my motives; because you haven’t been trapped in a mind for nine years. No, you can’t dream, or talk, or for that matter, satisfy ANY of your senses, since they are not yours to have. But I’m here now. Now’s MY time.

Listen, not to break the excellent rapport we’re having here, but I’ve got an appointment to make. You can watch if you like… door’s over there if you don’t.

(Addressing the chair)Ah. Good morning Mr. Um. What was your name again? Oh right! Gagged people aren’t exactly audible. Oops. Look, here’s a summary on your situation, minus the epilogue. I’m insane, you’re tied to a rather expensive Chippendale chair and in that bag over there I have some piano wire, some duct tape, a pair of tweezers, a set of blades, a few pencils, ya da yada.

Additionally, I also possess a confession, neatly typed, all desperate and melodramatic. What this confession is about: Suicide, murder, embezzlement, is up to your imagination. Notice I didn’t provide a pen.

To get you to sign this mystery confession: I’m going to put you through a series of hurdles.

An example of them would be the fact that all. My. Knives. Are less than half an inch long, allowing me to eviscerate you; without causing too much bleeding. ‘Cause it’s all fun and games ‘till someone loses an eye! Then it’s hilarious. Watch.

(He throws a dagger into the Chair.)

Ooch. Fun fact! The distinction between accidental cuts and self-inflicted wounds lies in the shape of them. Straight, shallow cuts, applied to the underside of the arm serve as a tell-tale sign of clinical depression. Or just mental retardation; which ironically in this case: is true. (He motions to lick knife, but stops short)

Oh you thought I was really going to do it! You really thought I was going to do the penultimate homicidal maniac maneuver! …Actually, that doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.

Blech. Tastes like crap, but it was worth it to see your eyelids stretch another centimeter backwards.

So, Mr… Oh sod it, tell you what. We’ve been such good friends so far, and I don’t even know your name! So: I’m going to remove the gag so you can actually tell me your name, you may also plead for your life, but that’s a bonus.

Ready? 3, 2, 1, go!

Mm-hmm. Yes yes, father of 4, yes, I know I’m never gonna get away with it. Come on, fast forward to the bit I want to know. Mr. Doles! Yes, thank you, your pleas for mercy shall be forwarded to the appropriate authorities. Other than that, you may only beseech me with that wide look of fear in your eyes of which you’re getting so good at.

Aww… Oh ho no no no, don’t cry, Mr. Watkins. There’s hope, after all. You get to find out what really happens after you die. Not so thrilling? That’s okay. We’re in this for the ride.

I said don’t cry, it’s not polite.

(There is a pain at the base of Slick’s skull. He reacts appropriately.)

Oh lo and behold. Remember that dominant personality I told you about? Oh shut up, I’m not talking to you. Hehehehe, Julian’s a lovely chap, really, he is. He’d be your friend, if you could actually meet him. Come to think of it, he’s everybody’s friend. ‘Course, I’ve been taking my pills like a good boy, so, that’s a no-go on the meeting Julian bit. Also---

(Enter Julian, nervous, disoriented, and scared.)

|Julian:| Gaaah! Wait- what? Who the hell are you? Oh my god that’s a knife. W—

(Re enter Slick.)

Slick: Aaaaaaaaand NOTE to self! Gotta Double the dosage.

Oh right, yeah. Sorry about that. Guess you did get to meet Julian after all. Pleasant chap, eh? Abit shy, abit rough around the edges, but no worries.

Listen. I’m gonna go make us some cocktails, and while I’m at it, grab some much needed happy pills from a nearby pharmacy. You sit tight, yeah? Keep up that whimpering; you’re doing so well!

(Slick exits.)

I read this script, and I am unhappy. Purely because with the cancelling of Red (and unless I can pull an actress out of a hat, It's cancelled), this is the script I intend to join the march platform with, which is rollicking fun to perform, but I realize that it really doesn't go anywhere as an actual play.
Yes, not everything has to make a _statement_, but bugger. It's just not ready yet, I feel.

Epic Fail.

"'Tis your delight sir; catching fire from one man to the next!"

"'Tis true, sir; love can still inspire the blood to pound the heartly pyre. What more?"

"What more can man Require?"

"But love, sir?"

"More than love, sir!"

"What, sir?"

"Women."

"Ah yes, women."

"Pretty women."

- Sweeney Todd; Pretty Women.

My life, it seems, has taken a turn into music. Not like "I AM INSPIRED! I MUST WRITE SONGS!" kind of turn, but more "Ah shit; I have to sing?" kind of turn.

Let's list them off.
Incident #1: The Oral Stage's "How I Learned to Drive". There are, in total, two male roles out of a 5 maximum cast. One is an uncle. Shit. The other requires me to sing. Double shit. Now I just _know_ I'm in a bloody tight spot. Either I nail the lead and go from there, or I cash in on consolation (Ie: Stage Manager); and... well. Mope.
So I read the monologue given to me. It's pretty drab. It's just the character taking the female lead character out to fish. There were nuances to display good and proper emotions; and some subtle hints at something more sinister: but mostly I felt like I was channeling soccer dad. (Read: Failing.) So then we're done with that ordeal, and our most benevolent director asks me to belt out a song. Thinking back, with this voice; Judy Collin's Send in the Clowns might've been a good idea. But do I use my expansive intellect? Nah. I sing out the song listed above mostly because it was stuck in my head the entire day. (Read: Failing.) He then asks the winning question: What do you know about Stage Managing? I'm probably reading into this too much, but fuck! I think I bombed it! *swallows hard*

Incident #2 (pleasant): Immediately after the audition, I meet up with Kathleen and talk about Red; which is beginning to properly take shape. Excellent. Happy is my heart, says I. After that, I try (Read: Fail) to find No Black Tie to head for the acoustic gig. Up and down Mersui street, getting the most retardedly conflicting directions possible. Nothing quiiiiiite like a confused boy in jeans holding a file passing by more than 6 times to really amuse people. EVENTUALLY my guesswork at which street goes where hits home after a good 40 minutes of walking in the same damn area; and I make it into No Breathing Tonight with minutes to go before the show starts. And it was AM-MAY-ZING. Good god, but there were some damn award-winning vocals in there. Mia stole the show, but I'm biased. Go go. Clicky on link. Spread the gospel that is the local arts scene.

Incident #3: I got a facebook-group-wide invite to go audition for "KAM.... IN YOUR FACE!"; a cabaret show with some of the biggest names in the business. Lead role. Male. Problem? CABARET? FUCK! Why, god Why, doth thee smite me into Tone Deafness! WHY! This play's huge; and here I am, sitting with an audition in my lap. But I'll need to sing one slow and one fast song. (Read: FAIL!). I'm intimidated. I well and truly am. My normally arrogance-enforced courage is suddenly wavering under the might of the minions of Total Embarrassment. I really really want to go; but gods; it feels like trying to winning a race when I'm in a fuckin' wheel chair.

Random note: COMPUTER UPGRADE! SHINEH! New video card, double the ram, and, behold, a new keyboard. Awesome; my excuses to neglect this blog are being whittled down faster than snowflake on a tongue. But World of Warcraft looks so puuurrty... @.@

P.s: Naoko: Appreciated, Nao, but I really don't know what to make of it. :P

Syar: To Glomp: The etymology is the subject of speculation, with hypotheses ranging from derivation from a combination of glom and jump to an acronym of "Grab, Latch On, Maintain Pressure". No authoritative etymology exists, however.
Also, Kid, because "here's looking at you, big sister" doesn't work.

A Lot of Time on His Hands

"Wait wait wait wait wait, he (Wall-E) has EYEBROWS?!"

"Duh!"

"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

- Calvin and I, in conversation. (I leave you to pick out who is whom.)

My brother at one point, upon the creation of his blog, had an idea where he wanted to put a new youtube video with each post. It'd be a "The Daily Tube", as it were. His rationale was: "I'd never run out of cool things to put up."

And we are both people that like to share.

Here, have at it.
(Advice? Stave off watching this until after a long frustrating day)



After going to the Platform last week, a bunch of us (say... 7 of us?) were at a mamak (like we always are) and talked about random stuff. Somewhere in there; we started off on movies, and one of them goes and says that the difference between books and movies is their obligation to explain stuff. Wherein a movie, where it is almost always a contained story in such a short duration, the most beautiful things go unsaid.
So I pipe up and say: "The next Pixar movie boasts no dialogue"
And everybody at the table just goes "Woooooooah"
This is the movie I was talking about.

Also, I've decided I'll reply to all comments on my blog on my next blogpost.
Behold: The P.S. section.

P.s.:

Nick: Fuck's sake, man. o.O I have ST runs to administrate!

Tham: Sifn't! *Sticks tongue out* In order for what I just did to be construed as Journalism, the person I quote has to be notable. (Ooooooh! Buuuuuurn! Zing, Rimshot!) I intend to be doing broadcasting instead. :B

Jaz: Verified. :D

Begging Your Pardon, Dear Reader...

"I am going to die cold and alone: A geek."
"orly?"
"yarly :("
"don't believe you. don't you have flocks of fangirls throwing their knickers at you all the time, or is that just Calvin's propaganda? :P"
"Calvin's propaganda"
"I am comfortable with talking to girls. Which is good and proper. I fail to see the knickers."
"I don't understand, you're a terrible flirt..."
"Yes. Terrible at it. Atrocious."
"nono, not terrible at it.."
"Quite terrible. Very off key and inappropriate.I will hear nothing of the contrary."
"you might not hear it, but that doesn't mean it isn't true :P"
"Lies and defamation."
"defamation? calling you a good flirt is defamation now? :P"
"*holds up cross* I WILL HEAR NO MORE!"
"lol"

-Tham and I, in conversation over MSN.

I've been using that phrase alot. "I'm going to die Cold and Alone: A Geek". Probably because it's true. More probably because I've been _SUCH_ the geek these past couple days. Been doing relatively nothing but sitting at home and leveling my Paladin. (Ding! 52!)
F'Serious. I've had noooothing to do in the name of productivity for more than a week.
Okay, I lie. I've been viewing and reviewing "Red" which is the script I intend to enter the March Platform with.
-Went to Genting Highlands with Nick, Amelia and Jon (Fun chap. Deeeep voiced.) to do a mock interview. It was fun! Just standing around a set and trying to be productive.
-It's chinese new year, so I've paid all my relatives a hearty well-deserved visit. Gong Xi Fa Choi, everyone. Also popped over to Gustave's house for spaghetti and (unplanned) gambling. It's good to catch up with him. The animosity's seemed to have dissipated entirely, which is good. I'm going to be on set with him tomorrow.
-Went to Syar's surprise party. Which was awesome. Met a couple new people. Talked of further geekdom. I've always wanted to be part of a surprise party. But I couldn't hide out and glomp syar for fear of breaking everyone else's surprise. Garn. (Here's looking at you, Kid.)

Other than that it's been: Judge Crusader on target. Seal of Righteousness up. Bap target. Loot target. Repeat as necessary in appropriate environments. Side note: Protection AoE farming is _insane_. And I've been listening to the Soundtrack for Battlestar Galactica alot. Divine stuff.

Okay, so obligatory update on my life's done, let's get down to the whinging.
I have decided that I do not update this blog nearly enough for my own liking. Now that I have decided as such, I'm not sure what I'm going to _do_ about it. For one thing, I hate my keyboard. The keys are a pain to hit, and my typing speed is pretty damn fast, so I dislike having to slow down for the keyboard. It's like having an ulcer on your tongue. Suddenly it seems like the effort to say "Love ya!" to someone isn't worth it, with the way the tongue clicks on the teeth. Pain. Misery.
But anyway, I'm sorry, dear reader. :( But thanks for staying tuned.

This whole "nothing to do" spree, while liberating, is starting to get a little frustrating. Laziness is a slippery slope, I feel, and the more I sink into it the less motivated I get to do stuff. This blog being a case in point. Suddenly an hour of sleep is infinitely preferable to going to a meet up with friends. A run through an instance more attractive than going out to watch Sweeney Todd. (I haven't watched Sweeney Todd yet! What the fuck!) I worry it'll stick. But damn, I love being able to tell people "No, I'm free. What's up?"

BUT! There be a silver lining, my friends! Tomorrow I depart for another shoot for that TV Pendidikan project. (About damn time. At this rate we'll never get 13 episodes under our belt).
Audition for The Oral Stage's next play this Sunday. The Acting for Beginners workshop begins this Sat. Well and good. I'm hoping this'll kick my arse back into gear (and maybe Nick's priest'll catch up to the paladin)

Lastly! And this is what the starting quote relates to; Valentine's coming up soon! Jeez, Feb 14th already! Time flies when you're having fun.
.... Ah hell, what'm I gonna do for Valentine's. XD