Let The City Fall

I met up with a friend and colleague of mine, Dara, earlier this week on Tuesday.  We discussed the poem No Second Troy by William Butler Yeats. 

WHY should I blame her that she filled my days

With misery, or that she would of late
Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways,
Or hurled the little streets upon the great.
Had they but courage equal to desire?
What could have made her peaceful with a mind
That nobleness made simple as a fire,
With beauty like a tightened bow, a kind
That is not natural in an age like this,
Being high and solitary and most stern?
Why, what could she have done, being what she is?
Was there another Troy for her to burn?

We discussed what it meant, how it could be presented (or performed), where to take breaths, what words to stress, etc.  I had never heard of the poem, and had to admit to her that I don't read as much poetry as one would like.  Anyway, I thought the poem should probably be performed as a Mickey Rourke type of character sitting at a bar trying to figure out why this woman had caused all these problems in his life, making these poetic realizations about her in the moment.  I think my exact words to Dara were, "Think of it as a sequel to Barfly!"  She just stared blankly at me and then smiled while replying, "OK Mark." 

Somehow that's what I feel most responses to my conceptual ideas are these days.  Still, one should be so lucky to have a night spent discussing poetry and conceptualizing it for performance.  There aren't enough of those days lately.

Another thought came to mind later as a general idea for performance.  A dark stage slowly being lit as a female lounge singer sings the Swedish band Cinnamon's song "Me As Helen of Troy."  She'd sing the song in the soft, gentile way it's originally sung (maybe even a bit more sultry), and then a man watching her from the crowd surrounding sitting at cabaret tables would stand up and start speaking the words of Yeat's poem.  And then...  Who knows?  Sounds like an idea for a devised theatre piece. 

Here is a link to the video for "Me As Helen of Troy" if anyone is interested:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JZKxdYscpvw

I'd Like My Own Poison Pill, Thank You

So many people like this Julian Assange guy and I can't figure out why.

Here is a man sitting on tons of sensitive material, releasing it whenever it pleases him, redacting information seemingly at random and revealing the names and identities of hundreds of informants around the globe, putting the lives of military personnel and (even worse) civilians around the world in jeopardy. Now, he's threatening to release a "poison pill" of files if he's detained too long, or extradited to Sweden.

It's one thing to want true transparency in international relations and to expose the ineptitude of American diplomats, but to sit on sensitive material and to release it at one's leisure, or to use it as an ultimatum, or blackmail, to save his own ass, and, barring that, just as revenge for extradition, makes me think this guy is not an innocent. He seems to be only interested in either saving himself, or promoting his own interests and has ended up making himself a walking contradiction of what Wikileaks was supposed to stand for in the first place; an unofficial check and balancer to local and world dealings that could expose true corruption that could be a detriment to everyone.

It wasn't meant to be an organization formed to be used as a bargaining chip in court to save one person. This isn't a revolution of empowering the people and encouraging transparency. It's just another moment in history when a minor megalomaniac is using a stockpile of virtual wealth he fell ass backwards into and he's not afraid to abuse the information as much as the diplomats who stupidly reported it.


If this is the face of the next people's revolution I'd rather take my own poison pill.


What a joke.