Blood And Revenge Are Hammering

I went to see Titus Andronicus.  It was brutal. It was proper B-Movie ultraviolence - a nice tale of rape, mutilation and mum jokes - but cultural because it was Shakespeare. One of the most fun things I've seen at the Globe - and with a lot of the action happening in the crowd, one of the most memorable too.

The lights here go off at midnight. Fairly sure I've cycled in the dark before, but this time it seemed really dark - I guess there was limited mooniness. Kinda weird, knowing that you can be seen from a fair way away but that you can't see anyone else around. Kinda sinister.

Urine For A Treat

I saw that there Urinetown.  I'm not going to lie to you, I saw it on the basis of its name alone. Urinetown? They actually called it that. Still it was strangely fun. And very much not like any other musicals I've seen. It had a tremendous body count.  You don't get that in Cats.

I saw Phil Wang's Edinburgh Warm Up show last night.  The crowd didn't seem to get him, which was a bit of a shame.  Not least because on more than one occasion I was the only person laughing, which always makes you feel a bit like a simpleton.

And I'd like to think I'm not.  Even if I did go to see a show because it had urine in the title.

Hip London Stuff

I did one of those hip London things the other day, but I had to sign the Citizens of Beaumont Official Secrets Act, so can't tell you anything about it. Which doesn't make for that interesting a blog post.

Hip London stuff like that, though, does make me pretty grateful that I live close enough to a city where stuff like that happens.  There really can't be many places in the world where everything (by which I mean people with the inclination and resources to put something on and people with the disposable wealth to participate) aligns so that something like that can exist.

Ultimate Warrior died this week. When I was ten he was pretty much my hero.

Quiche, Quinoa and Quail Eggs

Why is it only middle-class foods that begin with Q?

That wasn't really what I meant to start this post with, but it was bugging me today. I'm not sure if I'd be less bothered if they used the Qs properly, rather than had them as la-di-da Ks: keesh and keen-wa just doesn't sound as hoity toity.

Anyway, what I actually meant to do was add to my increasing mountain of Kate Tempest flattery. It seems like there's nothing she can't do. I saw her latest play this weekend, it was ace.  Fun and funny and powerful and emotional and all round better than it had any right to be. And it had Michelle Gayle in it.  And she's not aged since my sweetness was her weakness twenty years ago. Only one slight criticism: the title. Hopelessly Devoted - I can't hear it without hearing Stockard Channing wailing.

I saw that I Can't Sing thing too. Not certain that I need to write too much about it, as a whole heap seems to have been written. It was a mighty silly slice of lowest common denominator fun and trying to read any more than that into it seems to be missing the point somewhat.

_____________________

Here's a conversation:
- "Have you read the Cappuccino Years?"
- "No, I never read Adrian Mole as a kid and I feel that it's a bit late to read it now.  It seems a bit time dependent."
- "What are you reading now?"
- "..."
- "Sorry I didn't hear that."
- "Angus, Thongs and Full Frontal Snogging."