In light of election night, rehearsal (or practice? training? how the hell do you rehearse improv?) this evening is cancelled. All of a sudden, I have a gaping 3 hours of free time to fill, and like hell I'm watching the returns. Just like televised basketball, I'll wait until the fourth quarter, thank you very much. So far I've tried reading Psych, but my Psych chapter is all about memory retention and forgetting, so the material itself is making me doubt how much of the information I'm actually absorbing. I should also read the Camus for French or write that scene I'm supposed to turn in by Friday for the weekend workshop, but neither of those seems appealing. I simply don't know what to do with my free time anymore.
Last night, the second part of training was devoted to a workshop dubbed "Status n' Tards." It essentially consisted of us riffing on two-person scenes where one person was a normally functioning human being and the other was a retarded person. "Remember that tard in What's Eating Gilbert Grape?" prefaced our trainer, "remember how awesome he was? I want you to be that kind of tard." I think the purpose of the exercise was to make us expel our arsenal of bad retard jokes before we accidentally went crazy with them and offended a discriminating audience, but the effect was actually opposite. All our scenes ended up being these heart-wrenching scenes about the frustration and heartbreak of living with mentally handicapped persons. I think some of us actually cried. By the time we finished we were all emotionally exhausted. To end, our trainer remarked: "You guys are the saddest tards ever."
Steering this dialogue back to the election, I'm inclined to predict a Bush victory simply because I can't imagine what it would be like to wake up tomorrow morning and have Kerry be the president-elect. Have you ever made that kind of assumption before? Before I embark on life-changing events, like leaving for college for the first time, I always suspect that I might die before it happens simply because I could never imagine what life at college would be like. It's as if I attribute some anticipatory memory on the part of my brain, and if I can't realistically envision a future event, I assume it's because I'll never make it there to see it. So either Bush wins, or I die tonight. Who do you wanna vote for now?
How much do I want to be at the Neo-Futurarium tonight?
Last night, the second part of training was devoted to a workshop dubbed "Status n' Tards." It essentially consisted of us riffing on two-person scenes where one person was a normally functioning human being and the other was a retarded person. "Remember that tard in What's Eating Gilbert Grape?" prefaced our trainer, "remember how awesome he was? I want you to be that kind of tard." I think the purpose of the exercise was to make us expel our arsenal of bad retard jokes before we accidentally went crazy with them and offended a discriminating audience, but the effect was actually opposite. All our scenes ended up being these heart-wrenching scenes about the frustration and heartbreak of living with mentally handicapped persons. I think some of us actually cried. By the time we finished we were all emotionally exhausted. To end, our trainer remarked: "You guys are the saddest tards ever."
Steering this dialogue back to the election, I'm inclined to predict a Bush victory simply because I can't imagine what it would be like to wake up tomorrow morning and have Kerry be the president-elect. Have you ever made that kind of assumption before? Before I embark on life-changing events, like leaving for college for the first time, I always suspect that I might die before it happens simply because I could never imagine what life at college would be like. It's as if I attribute some anticipatory memory on the part of my brain, and if I can't realistically envision a future event, I assume it's because I'll never make it there to see it. So either Bush wins, or I die tonight. Who do you wanna vote for now?
How much do I want to be at the Neo-Futurarium tonight?
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