3 disks Cerridwen Dragon

Play ideas today:

1--I was reading about the NY Times Magazine article over the weekend, about the Belief Addicts' Wwar against Contraception, which is really a war on fucking for the sake of fucking as has been noted elsewhere. I thought it would be a nice thing to pen a play and call it "Hell House" but to turn the idea of the Belief Addicts' hell-house notions on its head and have the true Hell House be a compendium of wingnuttery as per the Robertson, Falwell, Ayatollah, etc. notions of "heaven" where people who do have sex are put to death in various and sundry ways, where people who are not obedient are punished, and where people who are obedient are also punished, because of course, how DARE someone be obedient to the Devil himself.

2--I started writing this one just a moment ago, but I've been thinking about the strange notion of "American theater." I am moving in the direction of feeling this is a historical field of study, as opposed to something that will continue to evolve. (Sort of like peak oil.) But I was thinking about my need for recovery in this area, my resentments and my underlying belief that "I'm not a good writer." I'm reading The Disposable American by Louis Uchitelle, and I realize that I have a lot in common with laid-off workers--the same sorts of recriminations, the coulda-woulda-shouldas, the "well, it's because THEY'RE so "F.I.N.E." (F*ck'dup/Insecure/Needy/Emotional), etc. that hides my own being "Fine." I was reading Uchitelle's book more to get a sense of how I need to be approaching my understanding of where the entire populace of the world is headed, but realized that I have my own work to do in that, while American theater isn't being outsourced, it has been through quite a few downsizings in terms of its vision, its aspirations, and even its stagings. Oh, sure, they're all well and good for the Christmas Carols and the musical comedies, but even stagings of Chekhov and T. Williams are suffering along. Anyway, I was thinking about the FINEness of playwrights who are trying to be working in this shell-shocked, overprofessionalized and sterile world. So, four characters: Phuc-Tupp, Insa Qure, Nee Dee, and Evangelio Morell-Chanel (aka E-Mo Chanel). All of them playwrights, all of them taking on some aspect of this decrepit ambience that needs apocalypse ("Ignore the Artistic Director behind the Curtain!")

Perhaps that is too obscure, but I was thinking about an evening of theater I penned entitled "Is There a Market for This?: Four Short Plays about Theater." And I was thinking the first play should be replaced with something else. Perhaps it's this one, I don't know. But the idea just came to me, and I think I might explore it, if for no other reason than I know how to write plays, and I think I can put that use to good purpose in fashioning stage-vessels that can convey useful information to those who are understanding the transitional nature of our place in the cosmos.

Just a couple thoughts on this day.