Art, meet Life. Life, Art.

Got a script last week from Joe Sutton, a three-hander called Complicit. A journalist, his wife and his lawyer. Journalist is being pressured by a grand jury to give up his source on a story about C.I.A. black site prisons. Great language, spare, sharp, just three smart, scared people dueling it out. A little bit of water-boarding onstage just for the visual jolt. Really great. More of a "play" than we usually like to do, but I'm shopping it around.

This morning, I'm reading about James Risen of the New York Times, getting subpoenaed to give up his sources for a chapter in his book "State of War". This after Judith Miller spent 85 days in jail back in 2005.

85 days.

What the holy hell happened to this country? In about 350 days, someone else will take the oath on TV, either Clinton, Obama or McCain, most likely. But have any of them pledged, clearly and uneqivocally, to give up the unconstitutional and deeply un-American presidential powers the Idiot has granted himself? If so, I haven't heard about it.

One of the things I love about Complicit is that it states, without stating it, that we are all, yes, complicit. Journalists, Democrats, citizens all. We were all standing here, watching it happen.

Great line from the Dresden Dolls song "Sing".

"All the world's history gradually dying of shock..."

Writing up a project description for Overlord for the MAP Fund yesterday, and you know how you start to lie and over-reach when you're trying to get funding? Came up with something good. I've decided that Overlord is part two of a three part series, starting with Fatboy and ending with my Woyzeck. They're all new plays that are inspired by traditional dramatic forms or texts. The intent of all three is to hijack old forms and implode them, drive them to places they never thought they'd end up. And the name of the trilogy?

Kill the Zombies.

Heh heh.

Heh.

That makes me very happy.

Oh, and I think I forget to mention Bill Coelius as a member of the LIT Steering Committee. Don't know, too lazy to go back and look at that old post, but I'm pretty sure I forgot Bill. Which is funny, because earlier this week we almost sent Bill a 1099 for a show that he wasn't in.

Gets confusing here at the Museum some days, especially when those damned tour groups come through. Screaming kids with their sticky hands and ice-cream smeared faces wanting to touch the displays, wetting their pants right on the main floor, rough-housing with each other. We got a big sign right in front, clear as day:

No Horseplay Allowed

But do they listen? O hell no. It's just horseplay all day long.

Kids.