hey

So if you're reading this, you know what's going on.

This is it.

Go to the indiegogo site, look us up and take us home.

Thank you.

And if you're reading this,

thank you.

This has been a place of solace, comfort and release for me for many years.

None of what any of us do is easy.

But doing it together makes it easier.

So thank you.

I will see you on the other side.

Love,

John

KEEP JOHN AND NANCY IN NYC

And the Fat Bunny, too.

We've got a fight on our hands, looks like.


https://www.facebook.com/#!/events/421496267920225/

after

The storm has passed.
The strangest things on this calm bright morning are the trees.
I thought I knew them, as much as I knew anything always there,
taller, stronger, older than me.
They stand silent, straight and still
like rioters facing the judge the morning after.
Blameless, innocent, just another part of the landscape
Nothing betraying the wild dance in the dark.

But I saw them.
All of them moving, swaying and writhing
In an ancient ecstasy that I could only witness
Throwing their branches up into the night sky
Waving their many arms like the front row
of the greatest rock and roll concert
the world has ever known
Screaming silently, I swear I heard them scream
Take me
Lift me up from my roots, tear me from this earth
And let me fly away with you into the wild night.

I thought I knew them
But I know now they are crazier and braver and much, much smarter
Than anything else out here

stormy monday

While the power's still on, I'm going to send out reports from the path of the hurricane.

Spitfire and I are holed up in the mountain hideaway, Dingmans Ferry, PA, 41 degrees and 13 minutes north, 74 degrees and 52 minutes west on the old latitude/longitude grid.  We're sixty-seven and a half miles northwest of Rat City, and those rats are swimming today.

We've got a sustained wind speed of around 48 mph right now and lost our first tree about 45 minutes ago.  I stepped out on the porch to get some more firewood, heard something coming from the left and looked up to see a sixty-foot maple coming down slow and gentle, whoomping softly to the earth, cradled by the top branches, the trunk never touching the ground.  If it had been born eight feet closer to the house we'd have had some real damage.  Another tree, a birch, I think, was in its path and the maple clipped the birch and brought it down too.  The birch is now resting against the back of the house, I'm looking at the branches against the window.

It's mostly just windy as hell, not a lot of rain yet.  We're stockpiled with chili, baked chicken, shepherd's pie, firewood and that Russian-type whiskey the Russians drink, the wodka.  Going to ride it out in the mountains tonight.  Worst is supposed to be around midnight, crazy rain and stronger wind just blowing through the night.

Almost certain to lose power at some point, it's all power lines running through the woods and more trees will fall before night does.  Even if it doesn't take out our lines, they have to shut down parts of the system to repair one downed line, so the odds are not in our favor.

And, needless to say, we're having the time of our lives.

I'll check back in every couple of hours if I can.

This is your on-the-scene meteorologist Scrappy Jack, reporting live from Dingbat's Junction, PA.

I'm no Edison.

Nothing new here.

I love LA. So love me back a little.

We got a banner.
So I guess it's on.
Come on down to Electric Avenue, folks.
www.dayofthelivingfest.com

get stronger and sharper in a day

Pilot season's coming.

It's always coming, isn't it?

Spend Friday the 5th with me at the Electric Lodge and walk away with a solid, simple set of tools to bring into any audition anywhere for anything.

I guarantee it.

coming at you, cali

memo from the Death Star

It's pretty simple, really.

Not pretty or easy to solve, but pretty simple.

dirty word

My first contribution to the new Clyde Fitch Report.

Are you climbing or playing well with others?

scenes from Tampa

Here's a little cross-promotion.

Or some kind of cyber shell game.

Or something, I don't know.

This social media biz is a strange road.

o, canada

The Fat Bastard lays waste to another fine town.

Well done, Mr. Horak and crew.

lines of flight

"There is nothing imaginary, nothing symbolic about a line of flight.  There is nothing more active than a line of flight, among animals or humans.  Even History is forced to take that route rather than proceeding by "signifying breaks".  What is escaping in a society at a given moment?  It is on lines of flight that new weapons are invented, to be turned against the heavy arms of the State. "I may be running, but I'm looking for a gun as I go" (George Jackson).  It was along lines of flight that nomads swept away everything in their path and found new weapons, leaving the Pharaoh thunderstruck.  It is possible for a single group, or a single individual even, to exhibit all the lines we have been discussing simultaneously.  But it is most frequently the case that a single group or individual functions as a line of flight; that a group or individual creates the line rather than following it, is itself the living weapon it forges rather than stealing one.  Lines of flights are realities; they are very dangerous for societies, although they can get by without them, and sometimes manage to keep them to a minimum." 
                    
 Deleuze and Guatarri,  A Thousand Plateaus

Emphasis mine.

This is why I'm thrilled that Transient Theater exists.

And very happy that their inaugural show, The Egg Play, rocks.

Only three more shows, don't miss it.

nomads, transients and other fine people

Transient Theater rolls into town

It's a busy summer here at the Museum.

Glad we bought all that discount black market "Mountain Deau" back in the spring.

So here's what's next.

They open on Saturday, 7 PM at the Cherry Lane, part of some festival that goes on downtown.  Fringe?  New York Fringe Festival?  FringeNYC?  

Something like that.

I can pretty much guarantee you that you've never heard anything like this play.  And Candice and the crew are people you really want to meet.

So let's pack their opening, give them a true Rat City welcome, buy them drinks afterwards and ask them to tell us some stories from the rowdy Road.

people of philadelphia!

Your hosts Kelsey and Rachel.  And some guy.


 Go see this tomorrow.


And check out this for the whole story.

Very radical and beautiful and might just pave a Road for all of us.

random great idea

Somebody please steal this, but let me be involved in some way.


So I'm talking with Randi Berry of wreckio ensemble, Executive Director of the LIT Fund, just hanging in our fabulous donated office space at NYFA, right in the hipster, beautiful people heart of DUMBO and we're drinking the free coffee and being all cool and righteous because the Fund launched yesterday morning and it seems like we didn't forget anything major, things are launching, as they used to say down at NASA, and we start talking about wreckio's next project.


And Randi says something like, 

"Well, we're supposed to be writing this new thing, but half of us have toddlers now and someone else just got pregnant and..."





And it hits me like a brick tossed from the back of the crowd:


Baby Theater.

You see all these kick-ass women in New York theater who have to take a couple of years off to make sure the little one doesn't climb inside the oven or try to eat a steak knife.  So, organize them and put on a production of King Lear or the Trojan Women or something where you don't have to pay royalties and cast the babies.  It's OK if they can't really talk yet, because the mothers (and fathers if they want to play) do all of the smaller roles and maybe you create a narrator character who can keep the plot moving along.


You do serious design, cool costumes and lighting and then you figure out how to incorporate their favorite toys so they stay interested.  It would be cool if the lighting designer, set designer and running crew also had to be there with their kids.


You rehearse it, not too long or they'll get bored, you perform it around 2 in the afternoon or whenever they're up from their naps and you pitch it to...right?

You pitch it to all of the other mothers who want to do something but have to be with their kids.  And you can have group crowd scenes, so if you show up with your kid, she gets to be onstage too.

Baby Theater.  
Because the Play is the Thing.

here's the next big thing

Voila.

Cool logo, right?

Now give us all of your money.

here's the deal

Twenty bucks tonight for two tickets if you say "end of the world" at the door.


If you've been thinking of seeing the show, stop thinking and do it.


If you were planning on coming the last night, half-thinking maybe it will be sold out and ah well, you tried, don't be that guy.


Come on down and give us a decent crowd for the critics. And my Mom.


Seriously, Mom and Dad are in the house tonight.


Don't make me look lame, guys.


Info here.

See you tonight at the Big Show.


Sixty five minutes, four Horsemen, lots of great songs and cheap wine and beer.


And those two lovely ladies.


Come on, man.


It's the bargain at the end of the world.

the phantom menace II

Sometimes you hate to be right.

I just wonder what they're telling Portman out on the trail.

"Condi who?  No no no no.  She's a chick, man.  And she's got weird teeth.  It's you, baby.  Now go out there and raise some more money."

You read it here first, kids.

we're subdividing or something like that

The Museum was getting filled up with all these political types, yammering away all night and leaving cigarette burns on all of the fine valuables so we built them their own little clubhouse.

It's over here.

So you can go and sit over there if you go for that type of foolishness.

This is a Dime Museum and a place for world-wide theatricals, damn it.

We'll leave the lying and finger-pointing to those guys.

We got Art and stuff to discuss.

So...

Anyone see Prometheus?

Pretty cool.