In my work as a script doctor at ScriptProfessor.com — I meet a lot of people with varying talent — the saddest stories belong to the abandoned and the broken-hearted, those who wished upon a star and fell back to earth without touching the moon, and melted. Showbiz tends to call those burnt souls “star fuckers” because they’ll do anything and everything to be noticed — let alone produced — while the kinder among us tend to label them “fame whores.” I just choose to try to have empathy for their plight as I work with them, but there’s also a certain queasiness involved as one feels like a dancing minstrel playing a part for money that will never be seen nor heard — all in the discriminatory want to try to help make someone’s script better for a fee.
Teacher, mentor, friend, and philosopher Howard Stein died two years ago today at the age of 90 — and I still miss him every day — and yet his death strangely seems so far in the past as to be unrecognizable. Because of all the surgical procedures he had at the end of his life, Howard would often refer to himself as the “Frankenstein Monster” held together with stitches and sealing wax.
There’s an old saying in some theatrical circles that a play does not exist unless and until is has been performed on a live stage in front of an audience. You can imagine the heartache that creates for the amateur, but vigilant, Playwright who writes page after page only to have the work discounted in the end analysis by some because there is no final proof of production to validate the effort. Is that a right and fair way to deal with a written Art in Performance? Does the actor exist without being staged? Does the director have a role without filling an empty space?
Unlike women, as men age, there’s a tendency to stigmatize our awful attempts at humor by branding us “creepy” or “perverted” or “just gross.” Plant an unfunny line on a 20-year-old guy and a teenaged woman might giggle, while the same line said by a guy over 60, to the same young teen, begets the world breaking apart as the whole tone and timbre of the conversation changes to a perceived perversion.
Why is that?
Is there always some sort of unspoken sexual underpinning to every male-to-female interaction that cannot be denied or generationally negotiated? Why doesn’t the curse cut the opposite way against older women who are labeled creepy and perverted in the same condition?
Our Verizon Wireless iPhone 6 Plus phones arrived early this morning via FedEx, and here’s the quick David Boles Blogs review of our experience with the new iPhones. After our initial ship date of 9/19 changed to 10/14 and then 10/7 and then back to 9/19, all in the span of three hours yesterday, seeing our FedEx guy show up with both iPhones in hand — one had shipped from Pennsylvania, the other From Tennessee — was a delight.
My FedEx guy told us he had thousands of iPhones to deliver today and that he was called in early this morning at 5:00am to start loading his truck; and then they held him an extra 90 minutes after his usual departure time to keep loading him up. He also said the FedEx hub in Moonachie, New Jersey had the most iPhone deliveries today of any FedEx hub in the USA. I reasoned the answer was likely because so many people who work in New York City live 50% cheaper right across the river in New Jersey — and they can better afford to buy a new iPhone every year!
The iPhone 6 Plus camera is improved from the 5S as you can see in this image. The shot was taken in a darkened room with the light from the iPhone as the main source of seeing. I used the bundled Camera App to claim the shot and did a “finger focus” on the screen to tap direct the source of important light.
Utopia is a new, $50 million, reality television series from Fox that is supposed to run for a year — but I don’t think the show will make it to the end of October because of horrible casting decisions and even more miserable ratings. The producers get some things right and most everything else wrong.
The technical aspects of the show, the live feed, the landscape, and the idea, are all right — but the casting is completely and horrifyingly wrong — as is the creepy-pervy peeping-tom-ish host who ruins the television show with his “stalkeristic” vibe and prissy mustache and bizarro hat and glasses.
As well, when you choose a convicted felon to be the center of your show from the git-go, and he’s also the initial online presence for your show and live feeds portal, something terrible and awful has gone wrong on a deep DNA level that cannot be cured by God, a false baptism, or human infusion.