At Baker’s Plays I bought a play called Scapino! ’cause i heard it was good. It is in fact Bozo the Clown bouncing around on a pogo stick. And so much much more. It is a frosted dog turd. It is vomit in the snow at 2 a.m. It is utterly racist and condescending to the audience. The opening song in the show is comprised entirely from the menu of an Italian restaurant, for God’s sake! Characters throughout the play have to speak in mock Italian, as if the Italian language is actually a bunch of nonsense to be ignored or laughed at. Frank Dunlop and Jim Dale should be sodomized with the Coke bottle they felt was so funny all the way through Act I. Okay, I’m done now.

Almost. What’s the difference between Scapino! and murder-dinner-theater mysteries (saw one and thought it fairly gross for the poor actors), as opposed to the stuff we read for Acting 1? Is it not possible to be salable and classy?! Does intelligence not sell? In Emma, the writer (I forget his name) says acting is 5% Quality Acting and 95% Bunny Suit. Is this a profession of choice for someone with my computer skills? And why aren’t we covering how to MAKE A LIVING in the theater? We’ll be brilliant and starving.

Read American Buffalo. It’s a status play, I think. I should have read it more closely. The curse words don’t offend me like they did everyone else in class. I realize that it may be a bit contrived (“do poor people really talk like that Herbert?”) Also it has something to say about reality and wishing beyond reality. Ever heard a story about this fellow who has this lottery ticket of which he’s uncovered five of six numbers, and they match five of six announced on the news? So he never uncovers the sixth because he will always be able to dream of the idea that he’s won the lottery. American Beefalo is a lot like that. We all feel sorry for Bob because he’s low status.

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