American politics is a battle between liars and cowards. Those of us who believe in the social contract are forced to vote for Democrats even though they are spineless morons because the alternative would be putting in power a ... Read >

American politics is a battle between liars and cowards. Those of us who believe in the social contract are forced to vote for Democrats even though they are spineless morons because the alternative would be putting in power a political party that says it loves America but lies and actually wants to undo the social contract, privatize our national resources, and push the USA towards the Somalia model of governance. Show Less <

I hate opera. Mostly because I dislike loud sounds. And Viking helmets. However, what Callas did with her astonishing instrument — and her extraordinary operatic life — continues to amaze me. Whenever I listen to La Divina, my ... Read >

I hate opera. Mostly because I dislike loud sounds. And Viking helmets. However, what Callas did with her astonishing instrument — and her extraordinary operatic life — continues to amaze me. Whenever I listen to La Divina, my engorged-with-disappointment heart is pierced — pricked open like a septic cyst. Or, a water balloon — depending on your threshold for gore. Show Less <

Poetry Slams - This is where literature comes to life, where the written words becomes the spoken, where poetry becomes performance, where all are equal, where no-one has more or less right to judge what is poetry, what is literature, ... Read >

Poetry Slams - This is where literature comes to life, where the written words becomes the spoken, where poetry becomes performance, where all are equal, where no-one has more or less right to judge what is poetry, what is literature, what is art, than anyone else. Do you need any more reasons to love them to pieces? Show Less <

It's the feel of dust under your feet at rehearsal. It's the thrill of finishing your first read through. It's hearing the audience laugh when you want them to and sometimes when you didn't expect them to. It's the sweat and the bruises ... Read >

It's the feel of dust under your feet at rehearsal. It's the thrill of finishing your first read through. It's hearing the audience laugh when you want them to and sometimes when you didn't expect them to. It's the sweat and the bruises and the bottle of asprin you keep on hand. It's that deep breath you take before you start your first scene opening night. Show Less <

I think there is no way that a kid from Stratford who’s dad was a glove maker could have possibly have written these brilliant plays, perhaps that says something more about me than more about him.