Wednesday, June 22, 2011

15 MINUTES: A Love Story, by Stevie Chaddock Lambert

I entered into this partnership almost exactly a year ago, and let me tell you, it started like any budding relationship. Dramatic. The constant texting, the late night phone calls, the not sleeping, the not eating and subsequent over-eating once you get into the comfortable stage (around month four)…

Don’t you just love new relationships?

And then everything changes. The fantasy ends. The veil is lifted. You see each other for who you really are – imperfect. You notice that 15 Minutes chews with his mouth open and almost always misses the toilet bowl while peeing and sounds like a growling Muppet monster when he sleeps. You realize that this relationship won’t continue to grow with just warm, fuzzy thoughts and carnal attraction. It’s going to take work…a lot of work.

So the work begins, and it’s grueling - in a truly exhilarating way. It’s exciting and new all over again. You learn things about each other that can’t be discovered in only a couple months; you dig deeper. You both grow and change - together and separately. 15 Minutes helps you through some very difficult, personal events in your life, and you are stronger together because of those hardships.

Finally, through it all, you realize why you began this relationship in the first place. You realize how truly rewarding a partnership, such as this, can be. You introduce 15 Minutes to your parents and friends, who of course love him, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Playwright Aaron Dean say...

Son of Man, direct your face towards Blog, of the land of Mablog, the prince, the leader of Meshech and Tubal, and prophesy concerning him.

Eziekiel 1: 38-39

Imagine you live in a little village. Its a happy place. Prosperous and gentle and fair and lovely. The thatch roof cottages sit nestled in buttery yellow wheat fields. There are festivals and dances and it seems the recent Typhus outbreak is fast becomming memory But there is one problem, there is an ogre, up the hill not two miles away, and he gambols down that hill every now and again and scoops up the most apple-cheeked, cherubic, five year old and rips opens its guts and feeds upon the leaky red entrails therein, while the mothers watch and ring their hands in grief. Then he gambols back up the hill, jump roping with the babe's lower intestines and singing Mid-period Moby songs.

Everyone in the village curses and cries and rends their burlap duds and then maybe they burn a goat and by morning they look out at those buttery wheat fields and understand the price of prosperity, they get over it and plan another barn dance.

Then a wandering knight, looking to impress his lady love back home rides into town. Not only is he gorgeous and charming and well-read, his record as a wandering knight is impeccable. Dragons vanquished, riddles solved, spells broken...you could go on forever baby.

He offers to solve your ogre problem. "Heck yes," you say.

You and your buddies armour up and you sing battle songs and play grabbies in the public shower and you head out, the golden knight leading his corn-liquor fueled posse.

You stand at the gates. Weapons poised. The clouds gather, somewhere an ominous bell is wringing. Where's it coming from? A solemn looking raven purches on a denuded tree branch.

You are unphased.

You hear the low, rumbling laugh of the creature.

You stand firm, confident in the knight.

Then over the black, iron gates, breaking the gray sheet of sky comes...a something...it hits right at your feet and when you get a closer look you see it is the head of that little five year old cutie, minus the eyes of course.

The ogres laughing becomes hysterical.

You miterate in your itchy breeches. Making them itchier.

Your knees knock together.

"Hold," Sayeth your captain.

You hold, he's just that good, in his golden helm and mighty sword, his cross draped shield and his...

Wait...wait a sec, what's that being hurled over the wall?

You find yourself in a shower of human body parts. The last thing that falls is the head of another knight, handsome face, golden helm, the works.

Minus the eyes of course.

And the ogre laughs till the earth at your feet shakes.

So what do you do? You run, you run like heck, back to the village. Will the knight and the posse take the gate? Slay the ogre. Who knows! Who cares!

So too is it with a devised piece. Our company was doing good. We had our share of success in a brief existence. But there is always the nagging to do more, to risk more. Then we decided to do a devised work. Which, most sensible people have a fear of. And we were on board, even the sensible ones.

And then come the heads.

Late nights, fast approaching deadlines, rehearsal after rehearsal waiting for the script, blocking waiting, designers waiting. And the ogre laughs and laughs.

Its scary. Reputations may be on the line, and you have started a process, without a play. You rehearse as you write, you have bull sessions and improvs, and they are all wonderful. And then its easy to let up and loose control. And then you scramble!

And you could run back to the village and be comfortable until the next time the monster comes down and then go back to being comfortable again after that. Or you could charge the gate, and risk becomming an eyeless head, thrown out of a gate to scare other posse's. You may fail. You may succeed, but to do the latter you must stay behind your knight.

We did.

We stormed the gate and brought that ogre down.

And now we have a dandy little play.

I love my wheat field. I always have, but what I love more is what it took to earn it. And who I earned it with.

So join me, raise your flagon of mead to the devised work, whether deemed successful or not. But drink not too much. For you never know what comes next to challenge you and your knight.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Juniper Hawk's Methods of Flying

We have long known of the phase of human history where our ancestors traveled by aircraft. Many of us have watched the Network footage, and I have even walked down the aisle of a now-defunct vessel. It is possible, and I can verify, that people can travel down the street, to other areas of the country, and even underwater. I alone can testify to that and have done so a great many times.

What we have not discussed is the now-rare phenomenon of human flight. Our mode of living is confined to supposedly provide safety and calm in an otherwise unstable world. But there are a great many sacrifices we’ve made to live this way. Our People to People peers have been examining and testing these different methods for about three years now and they’ve given me permission to share their findings with all of you, to perhaps encourage your interest in the outside world. None of these methods are possible in current Cube arrangement.

1) FALLING DOWN: Due to the confined nature of our living arrangement, the most anyone can fall is from their Mirror unit onto nearby floor or adjoining wall. This is a fairly minor fall and in in no way matches the destructive and wonderfully painful tumbles our ancestors experienced. From what I’ve seen, there are many different styles and shape a typical fall can take. The most I’ve ever traveled is the occasional stumble over uneven pavement on my many day trips. I have yet to encounter a set of stairs or a railing high enough to allow a moment of flight as I’ve seen in my research.

2) BASKETBALL: The rules of this game still elude me, but examining the former playing grounds and footage, there is evidence of a goal positioned at least 10 feet into the air and individuals would have to travel from the ground to the goal with a ball in their hands. The air over the playing ground was only thick enough to support one player at a time, and not everyone was strong enough to sustain such a long flight.

3) DANCE: Though I've long been ridiculed for my immense compact disc collection, my appreciation for disco in particular brings me one step closer to defying gravity.

Disco is not a flight dance(but a delicious series of movements across a dance space). It requires the body to move in ways it wouldn’t move for everyday purposes, which is a key element of any dance. Some forms specialized in leaving the ground for various periods of time.

Allow me to repeat: there is no way any of us can fly in a Cube. We will forever attempt to recreate the thrills and marvels that were once available to us(proof that we are meant for different living arrangements), but we will not be capable of actual human flight until we leave the Cubes. I encourage you all to find other methods once employed and attempt them in the limited floorspace you have available. I guarantee you’ll fail, much like Sebastian’s original mustache.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Rayne’s Dos and Don’ts of Exercising, Eating Right and Leading an All-Around Healthy Lifestyle

DO measure yourself everyday. I realize using a measuring tape seems antiquated, but it works! Weighing yourself is inconsistent and not helpful in determining how good or bad, thin or fat you look on your mirror.

DON’T skip even a day of exercising. Not only does it keep you looking your best, but also, people like to watch so chances are you will gain some Knowns.

DON’T get discouraged because of your lack of space. Get creative. Use everything you have. Do wall push-ups. Use your ottoman for one-legged lunges or tricep dips. I once ran an entire marathon in place. It can be done!

DO watch what you eat. I know our portions are small to begin with, but really think about what and how much you’re putting in your mouth. Also, try and limit yourself to ONE tasty bin a week.

DO get a friend to workout with you. You’ll be held accountable to another person, and it’s really fun to have someone to talk to and help pass the time. Plus, you can encourage each other will simple gestures like smiling or waving. My best friend and workout buddy is Ivy Brock!

DON’T hesitate to ask for my help or my advice! Also, don’t forget to become a member of L.E.E.F.F.R., the League of Extraordinary Exercisers Fighting Fervently for Recognition, of which I am Founder and President.