Yes it has been a bit since my last update. Oh well at least you are getting an update. So what's new in Jaredville?? Umm Saturday I had callbacks for Midsummer, and the cast list went up yesterday. And I was verry happy with what role I recieved. I got the role of Lysander. Which if you have never read Midsummer Nights Dream he is one of the four lovers. Woo Hoo. Gosh what is up with my iPod shuffle today. So far there was like 5 songs sad songs and now it's Christina Aguilera. Geesh sadness and now sex. Sounds like the emotions of a single man who walks around all day humping the air. Wow when you think about that site it kninda needs a laugh. Well apart from a lonely guy humping the air to the sexual hyms of Christina Aguilera, nothing else is really new.  

Monolouges which one is the best???
Current mood: bored

1. The Glass Menagerie Tennessee Williams Scene 1

Tom: Yes, I have tricks in my pocket, I have things up my sleeve. But I am the opposite of a stage magician. He gives you illusion that has the appearance of truth. I give you truth in the pleasant disguise of illusion. To begin with, I turn back time. I reverse it to that quaint period, the thirties. When the huge middle class of America was matriculating in a school for the blind. Their eyes had failed them, or they had failed their eye, and so they were having their fingers pressed forcibly down on the fiery Braille alphabet of a dissolving economy.

In Spain there was revolution. Here there was only shouting and confusion. In Spain there was Guernica. Here there were disturbances of labor, sometimes pretty violent, in otherwise peaceful cities such as Chicago, Cleveland, Saint Louis…

This is the social background of the play.

[music begins to play.]

The play is memory. Being a memory play, it is dimly lighted, it is sentimental, it is not realistic. In memory everything seems to happen to music. That explains the fiddle in the wings.

I am the narrator of the play, and also a character in it. The other characters are my mother, Amanda, my sister, Laura, and a gentleman caller who appears in the final scenes. He is the most realistic character in the play, being an emissary from a world of reality that we were somehow set apart from. But since I have a poet's weakness for symbols, I am using this character also as a symbol; he is the long delayed but always expected something that we live for.

There is a fifth character in the play who doesn't appear except in this larger-than-life-size photograph over the mantel. This is our father who left us a long time ago. He was a telephone man who fell in love with long distances; he gave up his job with the telephone company and skipped the light fantastic out of town…

The last we heard of him was a picture postcard from Mazatlan, on the Pacific coast of Mexico, containing a message of I think the rest of the play will explain itself.

 

2. The Glass Menagerie Tennessee Williams Scene Three

Tom: Listen! You think I'm crazy about the warehouse? You think I'm in love with the Continental Shoemakers? You think I want to spend fifty-five years down there in that-celotex interior! With-florescent-tubes! Look! I'd rather somebody picked up a crowbar and battered my brains- than go back mornings! I go! Every time you come in yelling that God-damn "Rise and Shine!" "Rise and Shine!" I say to myself, "How lucky dead people are!" But I get up, For sixty-five dollars a month I give up all that I dream of doing and being ever! And you say self-self's all I ever think of. Why, listen, if she is what I thought of, Mother I'd be where he is-GONE! As far as the system of transportation reaches! Don't grab at me, Mother! I'm going to opium dens! Yes, opium dens, dens of vice and criminal's hangouts, Mother, I've joined the Hogan Gang. I'm a hired assassin, I carry a Tommy gun in a violin case! I run a string of cat houses in the Valley! The call me Killer, Killer Wingfield, I'm leading a double life, a simple, honest warehouse worker by day, by night a dynamic czar of the underworld, Mother, I go to gambling casinos, I spin away fortunes on the roulette table! I wear a patch over one eye and a false moustache, sometimes I put on green whiskers, On those occasions they call me- El Diablo! Oh, I could tell you many things to make you sleepless! My enemies plan to dynamite this place. They're going to blow us all sky-high some night! I'll be glad, very happy, and so will you! You'll go up, up on a broom stick, over Blue Mountain with seventeen gentleman callers! You ugly babbling old witch.

3. The Glass Menagerie Tennessee Williams Scene Seven

Tom: I didn't go to the moon, I went much further-for time is the longest distance between two places. Not long after that I was fired for writing a poem on the lid of a shoe box. I left Saint Louis. I descended the steps of this fire-escape for a last time and followed, from then on, in my father's footsteps, attempt to find in motion what was lost in space. I traveled around a great deal. The cities swept about me like dead leaves, leaves that were brightly colored but torn away from the branches. I would have stopped , but I was pursued by something. It always came upon me unawares, taking me altogether by surprise. Perhaps it was a familiar bit of music. Perhaps it was only a piece of transparent glass. Perhaps I am walking along a street at night, in some strange city, before I have found companions. I pass the lighted window of a shop where perfume is sold . The window is filled with pieces of colored glass, tiny transparent bottles in delicate colors, like bits of a shattered rainbow. Then all at once my sister touches my shoulder. I turn around and look into her eyes. Oh, Laura, Laura, I tried to leave you behind me, but I am more faithful than I intend to be! I reach for a cigarette, I cross the street, I run into the movies, or a bar, I buy a drink, I speak to the nearest stranger-anything that can blow your candles out! For nowadays the world is lit by lightning! Blow out your candles, Laura-and so goodbye…

 

4. Long Day's Journey Into Night- Eugene O' Neill  Act Four

                                      Edmund

To hell with sense! We're all crazy. What do we want with sense?

He quotes from Dowson "They are not long, the weeping and the laughter,

Love and desire and hate:

I think they have no portion in us after

We pass the gate.

They are not long, the days of wine and roses:

Out of a misty dream

Our path emerges for a while, then closes

Within a dream"

The fog was where I wanted to be. Halfway down the path you can't see this house. You'd never know it was here. Or any of the other places down the avenue. I couldn't see but a few feet ahead. I didn't meet a soul. Everything looked and sounded unreal. Nothing was what it is. That's what I wanted- to be alone with myself in another world where truth is untrue and life can hide from itself. Out beyond the harbor, where the road runs along the beach, I even lost the feeling of being on land. The fog and the sea seemed part of each other. It was like walking on the bottom of the sea. As if I had drowned long ago. As if I was a ghost belonging to the fog, and the fog was the ghost of the sea. It felt damned peaceful to be nothing more than a ghost within a ghost. Don't look at me as if I've gone nutty. I'm talking sense. Who wants to see life as it is, if they can help it? It's the three Gorgons in one. You look in their faces and turn to stone. Or it's Pan. You see him and you die- that is, inside you- and have to go on living as a ghost.

 

5. Long Day's Journey Into Night- Eugene O' Neill  Act Four

                                               Edmund

Or be so drunk you can forget.

"Be always drunken. Nothing else matters: that is the only question. If you would not feel the horrible burden of Time weighing on your shoulders and crushing you to the earth, be drunken continually.

Drunken with what? With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you will. But be drunken.

And if sometimes, on the stairs of a palace, or on the green side of a ditch, or in the dreary solitude of your own room, you should awaken and the drunkenness be half or wholly slipped away from you, ask of the wind, or of the wave, or of the star, or of the bird, or of the clock, or whatever flies, or sighs, or rocks, or sings, or speaks, ask what hour it is; and the wind, wave, star, bird, clock, will answer you: 'It is the hour to be drunken! Be drunken, if you would not be martyred slaves of time; be drunken continually! With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you will.'"

 

6. Long Day's Journey Into Night- Eugene O' Neill  Act Four

                                                    Edmund

For Christ's sake, Papa, forget it! Yes, she moves above and beyond us, a ghost haunting the past, and here we sit pretending to forget, but straining our ears listening fro the slightest sound, hearing the fog drip from the eaves like the uneven tick of a rundown, crazy clock- or like the dreary tears of a trollop spattering in a puddle of stale beer on a honky-tonk table top! Not so bad, that last, eh? Original, not Baudelaire. Give me credit! You've just told me some high spots in your memories. Want to hear mine? They're all connected with the sea. Here's one. When I was on the Squarehead square rigger, bound for Buenos Aires. Full moon in the trades. The old hooker driving fourteen knots. I lay on the bowsprit, facing astern, with the water foaming into spume under me, the masts with every sail white in the moonlight, towering high above me. I became drunk with the beauty and singing rhythm of it, and for a moment I lost myself- actually lost my life. I was set free! I dissolved in the sea, became white sails and flying spray, became beauty and rhythm, became moonlight and the ship and the high dim starred sky! I belong, without past or future, within peace and unity and a wild joy, within something greater than my own life, or the life of Man, to Life itself! To God, if you want to put it that way. Then another time, on the American Line, when I was lookout on the crow's nest in the dawn watch. A calm sea, that time. Only a lazy ground swell and a slow drowsy roll of the ship. The passengers asleep and none of the crew in site. No sound of man. Black smoke pouring from the funnels behind and beneath me. Dreaming, not keeping lookout, feeling alone, and above, and apart, watching the dawn creep like a painted dream over the sky and sea which slept together. Then the moment of ecstatic freedom came. The peace, the end of the quest, the last harbor, the joy of belonging to a fulfillment beyond men's lousy, pitiful, greedy fears and hopes and dreams! And several other times in my life, when I was swimming far out, or lying alone on a beach, I have had the same experience. Because the sun, the hot sand, green seaweed anchored to a rock, swaying in the tide. Like a saint's vision of beatitude. Like the veil of things as they seem drawn back by an unseen hand. For a second you see- and seeing the secret, are the secret. For a second there is meaning! Then the hand lets the veil fall and you are alone, lost in the fog again, and you stumble on toward nowhere, for no good reason! It was a great mistake, my being born a man, I would have been much more successful as a sea gull or a fish. As it is, I will always be a stranger who never feels at home, who does not really want and is not really wanted, who can never belong, who must always be a little in love with death!  

Another dream that will never come true 
Just to complement your sorrow 
Another life that I've taken from you 
A gift to add to your pain and suffering 
Another truth you can never believe 
Has crippled you completely 
All the cries you're beginning to hear 
Trapped in your mind, and the sound is deafening 

Let me enlighten you 
This is the way I pray 

[Chorus] 
Living just isn't hard enough
Burn me alive inside 
Living my life's not hard enough 
Take everything away 

Another nightmare about to come true 
Will manifest tomorrow 
Another love that I've taken from you 
Lost in time, on the edge of suffering 
Another taste of the evil I breed 
Will level you completely 
Bring to life everything that you fear 
Live in the dark, and the world is threatening 

Let me enlighten you 
This is the way I pray 

Chorus 

Return to me 
Return to me 
Return to me 
Turn to me 
Leave me no one 

Turn to me 
Return to me 
Return to me 
Turn to me 
Cast aside 

Return to me 
Return to me 
Return to me 
Turn to me 
Leave me no one 

Turn to me 
Return to me 
Return to me 
You've made me turn away