His name is Jose, you killed his father

Now do you see why I've been having so much fun lately?

Haditha as the act of irrational minds

You can read all about it at this link (and at the NY Times), but the short-story version is that an investigation has been launched into the events of last November, when U.S. Marines reported having been attacked by insurgents. The probe is not completed, but has thus far uncovered evidence and accounts from locals and other Marines in the area suggesting a very different story. According to these sources, the Marines involved were not provoked, and instead gunned down 5 men at a bus stop and women and children in 2 nearby houses. Reports estimate two dozen deaths.

These are not the acts of rational, sane, or otherwise stable people.

I know comparisons all have their limitations, but I recall my mother - at the beginning of this conflict - likening Iraq to Vietnam. Have we now seen the resurgence of the same mentality which led to My Lai?

Krapp's 26th

The 25th of may marked my 26th of birthdays. Begun with administrative business at the RC, my day was vastly improved by a trip to see my parents and sister Hilary back in the D. Dinner ensued, and was accompanied by the collection/creation of pirate garb for the upcoming Pirate Bang. Then I jetted back to Ann Arbor to see the midnight show of X-men 3 with some kids from the cast, and then several of us went back to Jose's, where he made baloon animals, juggled, and did his T-trex impression. Then we played Xbox and found it had become 5 in the morning.

This was a rough birthday. 26 feels very old. Lots of "what am I doing with myself" and so forth. Incidentally, I have been much reminded of Krapp's Last Tape, and, in lieu of tapes, I have begun a new tradition of taking a picture of myself every year on my birthday. So...26, eh?

In which I talk about my kitchen and sports. Thrilling, no?

First and foremost, the Matrix quinceanera was a really incredible experience, but I'm going to tabel that topic until I can get some pictures - because otherwise you might not believe the things I would say.

Here is an "after" picture to accompany the "before" picture of my kitchen. I'll pause while you take the appropriate sigh of relief.


Now then: it is my duty as a detroiter to talk about basketball (if you live near here you do not doubt this). Yes, the loss of the Red Wings was upsetting, particularly because we may have seen the last of Steve "if you tape my body back together I'll go out and win this game" Yzerman. But hockey is a game where the best team has only a slightly better chance of winning. There's way too much luck involved in hockey to adduce it as some sort of model for procedural justice. Also, there may be a curse on the President's Trophy.

I offer this description to contrast hockey with basketball. Yes, there is still a great deal of luck involved, but lucky bounces are far less of a factor in this high-scoring game, and ball movement is much more controlled than puck slapping. Basketball, particularly playoff basketball, is about team strength. For a while it seemed like everyone except LeBron James was off their game. No one is 100% great every game. But the difference came when the pistons team stepped up (e.g. lindsey hunter's explosion in the 2nd half of yesterday's game, Tayshaun Prince's Marathon of Good Basketball)and Lebron's team didn't. His team, without his stats, went 7-for-36 in the second half.

And I have to say I think it's about the way LeBron is hyped. His coach and all the announcers talked about how the key was to get LeBron the ball, and that other players shouldn't step up but let James make the plays. Well, guess what, kids? Despite everyone who maintains ad nauseam that he is, LeBron James is not Superman. He is great, but he will get tired. He will eventually be stopped by a good defense. In the long run, no single good player can outplay a good team. What kills me is that no one, except the detroit press, seems to get this. LeBron's team gets broken in the 7th game, goes down hard, and all the announcers can say is, "we're very excited about what's to come from this phenomenal player, LeBron (King) James. This is an amazing start." Ugh.

Woo, soapbox. Until next time, (best Mason impression) DEEEEETROIT BASKETBALL!

Standing, and on your shoulders the shoulders of giants...or something like that.

A few of the aforementioned puppets.
From left to right, Mother Jones, MLK, Cesar Chavez, A. Philip Randolph, The Woman who Outshone the Sun, Ralph Bunch, and the almost-finished Fear.

An insane amount of delicate work goes into making giant puppets, and here Maryann, the program director for the community puppets, continues that work.


There are so many amazing puppets to wear, carry, and otherwise bring to life!


And finally, last but certainly not least, is Fear. Poor old Fear here was a very early construction for Matrix, and, I am told, has always been a very difficult piece to work with. Even after an initial father-and-son buildathon to give Fear his first real body, I have still had to rebuild that body twice to get it to balance Fear's massive head. The hand pictured here, however, is supasweet and was constructed by the very odd (for me to see) pairing of Matrix executive director Shaun nethercott and Athena (though the lion's share of the construction was all athena).


Being around these pieces now and having worked on constructing and paper macheing them in the past really makes me happy, and i have high hopes for saturday.

Um...somebody stole my kitchen.

This is what I came home to today.


Lots of giant puppet repair lately, as we gear up for this coming Saturday's 15th Anniversary celebration for Matrix Theatre Company. 10 a.m. at Holy Redeemer on Vernor, folks. It's going to be puppet madness.
To which, of course, you are all invited.

I did NOT have a date.

Um...while I certainly am flattered that quite a few of you have such faith in my ability to get dates, the "salsa dancing date" mentioned in the last post was (as I hoped you would conclude from my description of the picture) a very long time ago. Like January of '05. The current wave of salsa/merengue/tango has nothing to do with that date.

Thanks for the vote of confidence, though. In other news, my first tango lesson was a lot of fun (well, mostly the all-level practica was very fun, the class itself was kinda slow).

And then JP Dutka and I played music for a long time. Then we went to the bookstore, and I bought a book about poisoning people. Yay!

Hi, Royce! ... and then, tales of the Spaniard! [Edited]

Greetings to our newest reader, Royce. Incidentally, he started reading on 5/9, which I take as sufficient justification to claim that Royce da 59 reads my blog.

EDIT: My source was apparently having a senior moment, or was drunk, or possibly both. Apparently the new reader is actually Pete, not Royce. Sadly, there is no Pete Da 59, so this is bad news for all of us. This is the last time I try to do anything. At all. Ever.

And now, onto an extremely abridged version of a convoluted tale: I am now in a play with a spaniard named Jose, who, after I mentioned to him that myself and some other kids from the play had recently gone salsa dancing, insisted that we all go tango dancing, and, two days later, salsa dancing again. I have had more fun dancing than I have spent time sleeping in the past few days, and I was so enchanted by Argentine tango that I'm going with some of the aforementioned folks to Tango lessons on wednesday.

Maybe it's the spring in ann arbor, which explodes like sweet-smelling green fireworks. Maybe it's the release of frustrations from months spent indoors wasting my time in meetings and at home by myself. But now I'm acting and directing again and playing the bass for hours at a time, and dancing my brains out.

Below, incidentally, is a very hilarious picture I found online a long time ago. I was going to go on a salsa dancing date with this woman, and sent her this picture, in jest, with the caption "this is how we will look!" Only she didn't get the joke, and actually replied, "well, I'm not sure I can bend like that, but okay, we can try!" Le SIGH. Yes, do that, madam, and I'll try my hardest to make my hand burst into flames while wearing an expression of sheer madness. Would you go on a date with someone who suggested this? Because you shouldn't.

Three things you must learn

1) Avoid Da Hip Hop Witch! Seriously. I know, I know, you look at the box and you see the amazing line-up of hip hop talent in the credits. And you see the funny plotline described on the back. DO NOT BE FOOLED! Da Hip Hop Witch will hurt your soul!

2) Do not call me during Lost. Why does this happen? You have 167 other hours in the week you could call me, and you don't. You all call on Wednesday from 9-10:02, when I am watching with rapt attention as a fabulous story unfolds. That story does not benefit from your making my phone vibrate.

3) If you ever have a dream wherein Chauncey Billups joins you and and a bunch of strangers for dinner at a restaurant, don't let those strangers be rude to Chauncey - even if you get the sense those people are supposed to be your friends. Asking him about basketball again and again - like whether he prefers to face Cleveland or Washington - will make his face melt and he'll slide backward through the wall on his chair while you end up in a Museum with peanut butter on your feet. Just trust me on this one. Obviously LeBron and the Cavs would be the better choice.