Walking along Magdelan Street last night, two couples collided when one couple walked across the other. The affronted couple, so outraged by this, stopped where they were and did that things couples do when they look like they are talking privately, but loud enough so that the first couple knew exactly that they were being talked about.
Ironically, as they stopped, I had to swerve at the last second just to avoid them. And did they notice that they had just done to someone else exactly what that had stopped to complain about? No. So, I did that thing that people walking on their own do when they look like they are talking to themselves, but do it loud enough so that the second couple knew exactly that I was mad.
I think we can learn many things from this. Firstly, human beings become outraged easily, by stupid things, and believe that they would never do the same. Secondly, always go out in packs of two.
Also, two fourteen year old girls in a Vauxhall Astra love me. Does anyone have their number?
Friday, November 18, 2005
Monday, November 14, 2005
Right at the back of my head, there is a huge sadness that won't go away.
Yesterday, Eddie Guererro died, at the age of 38. Eddie was a professional wrestler. He came from a Mexican family, made a name for himself in Mexico and in Japan, before he started to wrestle in the US in 1995. For the next seven or eight years, he was adored by the fans for his hard work, incredble matches and dedication to "the business", while overlooked by promoters because he wasn't big enough. Eventually, he couldn't be ignored anymore. With the loudest cheers at every event, the decision was made to make him WWE World Champion. It was a crowning moment of a brilliant career. Eighteen months later he was found dead in a hotel room.
I've struggled to put all of this into words in the last 24 hours, and even now it is hard. It's hard to even begin to understand that this has happened. It probably seems really strange to be so affected by the death of someone you never knew. Indeed, wrestling deaths happen all the time at the moment, with many of my favourites from when I was younger passing away. But this has been so much harder. Eddie was on TV up until Thursday. He was monumentally popular. He lived to entertain, and he did so every night. His career, what wrestling fans love to refer to as "his work", was such a succession of highlights, of great matches and angles and characterisation.
And then there was the other side to Eddie Guererro. The side that lead him to substance abuse and a painkiller addiction. The side that he battled against every day, so he could do the thing he loved most. Maybe that's the greatest tragedy of all: that having fixed his life, he was to lose it so soon.
I watched a video clip of him yesterday. It wasn't even a wrestling match. It was him and one of his friend, celebrating together in the ring, both of them newly crowned world champions. In the crazy world of pro wrestling, a belt is nothing more than a plot point. But it has a symbollic meaning, that the company thinks you are able to lead it's creative direction and headline its events. The two men's embrace said it all: we've made it. It was such a beautiful moment at the time, because of the unique blend of reality and fantasy, that it made me want to cry. Watching again yesterday, that feeling hadn't changed.
R.I.P Eddie Guererro 1967-2005
Viva la raza
Yesterday, Eddie Guererro died, at the age of 38. Eddie was a professional wrestler. He came from a Mexican family, made a name for himself in Mexico and in Japan, before he started to wrestle in the US in 1995. For the next seven or eight years, he was adored by the fans for his hard work, incredble matches and dedication to "the business", while overlooked by promoters because he wasn't big enough. Eventually, he couldn't be ignored anymore. With the loudest cheers at every event, the decision was made to make him WWE World Champion. It was a crowning moment of a brilliant career. Eighteen months later he was found dead in a hotel room.
I've struggled to put all of this into words in the last 24 hours, and even now it is hard. It's hard to even begin to understand that this has happened. It probably seems really strange to be so affected by the death of someone you never knew. Indeed, wrestling deaths happen all the time at the moment, with many of my favourites from when I was younger passing away. But this has been so much harder. Eddie was on TV up until Thursday. He was monumentally popular. He lived to entertain, and he did so every night. His career, what wrestling fans love to refer to as "his work", was such a succession of highlights, of great matches and angles and characterisation.
And then there was the other side to Eddie Guererro. The side that lead him to substance abuse and a painkiller addiction. The side that he battled against every day, so he could do the thing he loved most. Maybe that's the greatest tragedy of all: that having fixed his life, he was to lose it so soon.
I watched a video clip of him yesterday. It wasn't even a wrestling match. It was him and one of his friend, celebrating together in the ring, both of them newly crowned world champions. In the crazy world of pro wrestling, a belt is nothing more than a plot point. But it has a symbollic meaning, that the company thinks you are able to lead it's creative direction and headline its events. The two men's embrace said it all: we've made it. It was such a beautiful moment at the time, because of the unique blend of reality and fantasy, that it made me want to cry. Watching again yesterday, that feeling hadn't changed.
R.I.P Eddie Guererro 1967-2005
Viva la raza
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Monday, November 07, 2005
Hey,
Another insanely fun Monday night, and I hope that everyone who came enjoyed the show. I thought the Shakespeare totally laid the smackdown on any other Shakespeare scene we've ever done, as it ran about fifteen minutes, with loads of cool stuff like us battling with metaphor, and La totally being awesome with the dialogue and the plot devices and everything.
After the show, she gave me the biggest compliment of my improv life. I feel all warm and tingly inside, like a egg, sitting softly in a saucepan, slowly boiling over while the toast lightly browns in the microwave.
Speak soon.
Another insanely fun Monday night, and I hope that everyone who came enjoyed the show. I thought the Shakespeare totally laid the smackdown on any other Shakespeare scene we've ever done, as it ran about fifteen minutes, with loads of cool stuff like us battling with metaphor, and La totally being awesome with the dialogue and the plot devices and everything.
After the show, she gave me the biggest compliment of my improv life. I feel all warm and tingly inside, like a egg, sitting softly in a saucepan, slowly boiling over while the toast lightly browns in the microwave.
Speak soon.
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