Iconoclasm in Kiev


Click over to the Guardian to see protesters in Kiev pull down the statue of Lenin, and read about how statues – invisible symbols of entrenched and assumed power in our everyday lives – becoming sitting ducks during an expression of revolutionary disobedience. Since the dawn of man, in our freest moments we have torn the idols down.

Some pics from RT:

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Direct link to video:


R.I.P. The Last Revolutionary Hero


Nelson Mandela, 1918 – 2013

‘Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.’

- from ‘Invictus’ by W.E. Henley.


Not a Review: The Late Late Show at Bootleg


I try to see everything labeled ‘environmental/immersive/ambulatory’ that pops up in Los Angeles because I feel it’s the coolest thing theater has going for it. No other form can make you stand up, walk around, touch, feel, smell and throw yourself into a story or experience like the present art of theater. TV and video games can’t do that, and never will (my apologies to Virtual Boy.) And yet, how do we spend our time at plays?  Silent, seated, hands folded or clutching a program, policing the behavior of other paying patrons, and counting the minutes until the intermission brings renal release. Artists and companies which go out of their way to stretch and mangle the frozen boxes where we usually imbibe our drama are doing us and the art form a great service, because they are giving audiences something they can’t get from a screen, something undeniably now, with more dimension and perspective than can be achieved while sitting down.

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Pack Up the Moon : July 6 – August 10

Design by Chariti Capilli

“Everyone grieves differently.”

As most of you know, my theater company Brimmer Street develops original works for the theater from scratch, collaborating with writers, actors, designers and producers from start to finish.  Our latest mainstage offering is Pack Up the Moon, by Christina Cigala and starring yours truly.

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Jason Rohrer Thinks Rape Jokes Are Hilarious

Twitter Sage Jason Rohrer

“Any joke about raping you, yeah, that’s pretty funny to me.”

“WAAHHH WAAHHHH!!! I’m a big cry baby and I need daddy to save me from the razor-sharp wit of an absolute genius!”

This is what Jason Rohrer will read in this post, but I imagine everyone else will feel otherwise.  This is because in a brief twitter exchange between myself and Jason today, he managed to turn a perfectly civil discourse on casually offensive comedy, and the strategy of contacting advertisers to combat it, into a personal attack.  I figured I’d put my money where my mouth is and let Daddy know he was pulling my hair.

Really I just wanted to consolidate it so he can see how ridiculous he is and maybe get him and others like him to check their privilege and see the light: that casual rape jokes are harmful, and it is not an affront to free speech to point that shit out.

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Tearing Down the House


Imagine that you owned a house, and you discovered what might be a serious problem with its construction.  This is a problem that you yourself are not qualified to deal with – let’s say that it’s some combination of engineering and local construction code which only someone with intense training and experience could competently solve.  You call a contractor, or an engineer, someone who professes and certifies their expertise in exactly this sort of matter.  You pay this person to inspect the damage and give their honest opinion, and recommend a way forward.  They tell you bad news – not only is this damage severe, you must tear down your whole house.  There’s no way around it.  You ask why and they tell you ‘it’s just how it is, I know, because I’m an engineer.’  What else could you say?  In the interest of your family’s safety and obeying the law – you tear down your home, presumably to move into an apartment nearby.  Maybe you have to money to rebuild, maybe you don’t.

Let’s say that down the road, in about six months, you find out that not only was your house not unsafe, but no laws requiring it to be torn down even exist, and your engineer was lying.  They did this to your face, in a public setting and in an official capacity, and they were wrong.  Would that person not be responsible?  Imagine that this house was in the family for years – wouldn’t that kind of willful fraud be a crime?  Isn’t it a gross violation of trust and common decency to profess expertise that one does not have, with the knowledge that people will make decisions on your advice which could impact their lives and those of their family?

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Education and Open Source Art


Before Les Misérables and its story of youthful, futile rebellion fades again into popular irrelevance, I thought I’d share this sweet digital painting.  This scene, with its striking red flag, was composed in response to yesterday’s police incursion into a peaceful demonstration outside a government summit on education, after protesters threw snowballs at them. Through all the chunky and kinetic faux-brushstrokes, it shows an invincible and imposing police on horseback, riding roughshod over students who can do little but wave their banners and retreat.

I highly recommend a browse through this gallery of digital paintings by the same anonymous artist (the blog is maintained by his wife) who gives full credit to Quebec’s militant underground for supplying the inspiration and subject matter for the work. They have the stated goal “of supporting, with images, the fight against neo-liberalism which is eroding Quebec society.”  The images and text are free for all to use, no copyrights, no licensing, no advertisements, no ‘Click to Subscribe.’  No linkbait.  No Kickstarter.

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