Happy Looking People Actually Angry
"Theater today, not all of it, is in your face," I said. "I'm not allowed to reach out to it."
"People are angry," said Syd. "It's related to that. Just take a look at this table. The shapes on it. Look at all these squares, triangles and circles. Fran. What would you call this dish?" Syd looked at his smoked salmon. The table was cluttered.
"I'd say it's Baroque," said Fran passing a glass of water. "Who needs all this water?"
"Fish-shaped," said Syd with an index finger at either end. He observed the dish like a math problem. "This dish is shaped like a fish."
I like a good musical. Umbrellas of Cherbourg, and The American Ruling Class being two. Simulated sex acts on stage, when viewed while sitting next to my parents, make me wonder how they are processing these acts on stage--whether their thoughts are: in words that relate in a figurative way to what is on stage; in blank non-sexual non-conscious space equivalent to the space your mind is in when your eyes cross; or in some related but non-constructive analytical distance imposed to defend against unwilling recourse into prurient mental territory, "I wonder if I'll have the twenty-layer crepe cake or the creme brulee. If the crepe cake comes with blueberries, I'll have to order something else, or I can order the crepe cake with strawberries, unless the strawberries have at some point been frozen..."