Saturday, August 28, 2004
(12:21 PM) | Adam Kotsko:
Sleep Deprivation Appreciation Day
I have already addressed this in the comments, but last night's event met and exceeded my every expectation. In addition to Tingle Showcase, the closely affiliated Fash Attack (bohemian fashion presented in an intense dance-based format) and the unaffiliated but confusingly similarly named Tingle Tangle (vaguely creepy performance art) also performed. Highlights included Monica's piece, which was introduced by a special segment detailing the proper pronunciation of her name and which took the form of a multi-layered discourse on slips (as in under dresses) and words; the "flasher's convention" skit; an alarmingly nonsensical segment that included one character saying, apropos of nothing, "That was so pertinent"; and a truly amazing puppet show by Tingle Tangle. Overall, in terms of avant garde variety shows complemented by fashion and puppets taking place in a top-secret, unlicensed venue, this was the best I'd seen.During one break in the action, I asked Jared Sinclair, three-quarters jokingly, to go up to the microphone and ask if Ben Wolfson was there. He did so. Ben, apparently, was not there. Mike Schaefer also failed to show up, though I sent him an e-mail invitation late Thursday night. I don't hold it against you, guys! Nothing but love -- I'm just thinking that whatever you did, no matter how high-quality the ten-second mpegs were, it probably wasn't as much fun as my evening.
Especially since Monica, Adam R., Jared, and I went to a bar after the show, on the way to which we drove through the Storm of the Mother Fucking Century. We took two cars: Adam and Jared led, with me and Monica taking the subordinate role. Apparently most of the people on the trip -- by my count, three of those involved -- were alarmed by the adverse weather conditions that at times threatened to make visibility a naive fantasy, suitable for grade-school children but not for sober-minded adults. I was not alarmed in the least. I had just driven through a similar, albeit shorter, storm the week before, and I have also driven through multiple deadly blizzards on my way back and forth to Michigan. For me, zero visibility and zero traction are just par for the course, and like a true, red-blooded Michiganian, I always drive as fast as possible, as close as possible to the person in front of me. (I will pass over in silence Monica's occasional criticisms of this thoroughly sensible driving policy.)
To conclude, I'd like to note a few aspects of the puppet show. It was an apocalyptic show, where all the characters were either mutants or demons of some kind. Several plotlines were interwoven: a man who had mistakenly received a cursed monkey in the mail attempts to return it; several people attempt to procure a "hook-up" from the apothecary; the world ends; a man in a bomb shelter is killed after gloating over his foresight. At one point, while the world is ending, a reporter asks a man on the street to describe what's going on. He says, in paraphrase, "All of a sudden this loud humming noise started [it had been in the background for ten minutes; it was very funny for it to be addressed]. Then, next thing you know, the Christians all evaporated, with their cars." The reporter: "Their cars too, eh? Ah well, it's probably a blessing in disguise."
Amen!
