Model Minority

Yep.  It’s been give or take a week.  I’m sitting in my office before the 2006 Labor Day weekend with a surprising little amount to do - moreso than usual that is.  So instead of replying back to high maintenance clients who get paid twice what I do, I’d decided to wrap up this purposely neglected bit of web self indulgence.  A new show is going up in February 2007 so I’m going to a different blog site to do any shameless self promotion - friendster as I prophesized has become an obese abusive spouse who I will no longer tolerate.  Right now - a stream of annoying commercials bombards my eyes on the left of the screen as I sit here typing away about stupid minutiae you shouldn’t even be wasting your time reading… which begs the question - What’s worse? My inane ramblings or people who actually come back again and again to read my inane ramblings?  This is pretty much the conundrum with these blogs… I mean you want to stop reading some of them but the emotionally self serving disasters… ESPECIALLY those kinds are just delicious carnage filled wrecks with screaming stupid sentences of indulgence and even as they defecate into your conciousness you cannot pull away because you must know… is this writer going to figure out how idiotic he/she is?  The answer … oh sweet Estelle Getty no!  No!  They keep going and the public humiliation is like sweet sweet candy - better than monkeys on skates.  So yes reader… enjoy this last cup of Vente size schaedenfreude as I take my leave.

PREVIOUSLY on my life in no particular rambling order - NOW with inapproriate Sexual Innuendo!

1.  Your gonna be a lawyer til the day you.  Deal with it.  Now take off your pants and keep your head down counselor.

Took the bar.  Passed it.  Took the moral character exam.  Passed it.  Signed a "Your a Lawyer" paper.  Framed it.  Soul is now on lien to the highest bidder.  The funny thing is that it’s not bad.  I don’t work 80 hours a week like my friends nor do I have a big enough ego to feel any need to advertise it.  Trust me - my ego is of enormous proportions but about this self-hating wretched soul sucking profession I can say, "Meh.  Beats writing standardized test questions."

Instance: I helped a very cute but obviously insane couple get their greencard.  I sat at their interview with the government officer in court.  Part of the process is the familiar, "How do we know you really married because you love each other", which is an insanely ridiculous and funny premise consider the loveless and spiteful relationships I have witnessed in the guise of "functional".  What can you offer as evidence of a loving marriage?  Why photos of course!  Which is why one day I’m gonna sneak in a photoshopped picture of the loving couple on a rainbow with carebears as the bridal party as Mufasa from Lion King smiles from above giving two thumbs up with his paws.  Is that loving enough for you?

Anyway, in this instance, the couple’s photos showed that they had a pirate wedding. 

"What do you mean?", you ask.

I mean they dressed up as f*cking pirates.  Well the bride, groom and the bride side all wore pirate outfits.  The groom side who were mostly relatives from Kosovo (like the groom) did not wear outfits.  Rather they have that puzzled look most people get when you realize your at a theme wedding.  And by theme I don’t mean a spring wedding or fall wedding or Catholic wedding but theme as in amusement parks like Renaissance Faire, Goth, Orthodox Judiasm and yes… pirates.

Officer looks over them and looks at me as if to say," Counselor.  Why are they dressed up as pirates?"  To which I glanced back and said, "How the hell should I know.  Just move on."

The officer then looked up and actually said," Wow.  This is a first.  Everyone dressed up as pirate."

US Citizen Wife:  Well only me, Yuri (the husband from Kosovo and soon to be greencard holder), and my family did.  Yuri’s family weren’t really interested in that.

Yuri:  No.  In my country, we have only small lakes and no bordering oceans so we have no concept of pirates.  The closest we have is gangs of drunk fishermen who steal your milk in the morning and leave half eaten fish heads.

Officer: Interesting.  (laughs)  Oh but I see your father got into it.

Yuri:  [confused] Hm? No he didn’t.

Officer:  But he’s wearing an eyepatch.

Yuri: [softly] He lost it in freak sheep herding accident.

Officer: [uncomfortable pause] Okay.  I’m just gonna approve this case.

Me:  Good idea.

2.   Welcome to downtown San Francisco - since we’re officially a protected sanctuary for homeless people and drug addicts, please be respectful as they urinate on you.

This by far is the one main problem with this city.  In my nearly cumulatice two decades of living in New York City I have never had to:

a. watch someone take a dump in the middle of the street,

b.get punched in the back of the head for not saying happy birthday to a drug addict,

c. or have a vagrant call the cops on me.

This is probably the main by-product of a hugely liberal city… which I love except for its love and understanding creating some sort of entitlement bubble that has created an uber elite class of vagrancy.  I swear I have never seen a more prouder and abnoxious group of drug addicts in my life.  It’s the only place where on a bright sunny summer day, drug addicts come unto the street to enjoy some good weather and heroin free basing out in the open air.

Which is why I moved to a much more expensive but necessary apartment near the water (apparently the homeless cannot cross or be near running water) overlooking the bay bridge and the east bay full of wonderfully homogenized young urban professionals who will NOT make eye contact with you no matter how far you pull down your pants and dance.  And god knows I try every single day.

3.  Scientists say babies cry when you smile at them because they think your gonna eat them.  You know what I say?  Pass the baby sauce.

I’ve lost count how many people I know have had babies the past two years since I got here.  Or have gotten married which is close enough since that’s pretty much tilling the soil before you start planting.  Or will be getting married.  Or are seriously thinking about getting married. Or logging on date sites for $30 dollars a month while some white haired kook tells you that your an emotionally barren spineless f*ck up that will decimate the womb of any women where my seed finds purchase.

Whoa.  Where did that come from?

I’ll tell you where that comes from - there’s only so much happy I can drink from my juice box before I hear the drain of fluid that is my hope sucked up through the straw of life.  I love you all but don’t underestimate my capacity to generate spite… oh sweet spite now with the taste of lymon… that’s lemon and lime you tards.

4. Confessions of a Massive Multiplayer Online Role Playing Gamer.

Okay.  I have a surprising amount of free time.  I am not athletic.  I do not like the outdoors - I actually LOATHE the outdoors as you damn well know.  I have a very fast computer.  I do not have a crippling drug addict, whore habit, or expensive hobby.  And most importantly - I am NOT having sex.  NOT At all. None whatsover.  I do not know why.  I’m not even upset about it.  I’m more just resigned to it like people who live near the subway and hear the train go by. "Oh… there goes the Number 9 train - still not getting laid." 

I honestly have stopped wondering why in the same way people from Idaho stop wondering why they’re f*cking boring.

This and many irrelevant reasons is why I have become addicted to this thing called World of Warcraft.  There.  I said it.  Am I ashamed?  Yes.  Will I stop?  No.  Hell No. In fact, I will lock you in a closet full of rabid pandas with box-cutters if you even try and get me to stop.

What is World of Warcraft?  Well NY Times did an article… some guy died playing it non-stop for 48 hours.  There is a whole sub-industry of kids who get paid to play this game for 12 hours a day in China.  All this is explained and more if you go to wikipedia.  But, its hard to explain so I won’t bother… its even harder to explain the relevance of conversations like this I’ve had online while playing the game. 

Me: What’s next?

Nerd: The map says we gotta go to this place of called the Dungeon of Infernal Darkness.

Me: The what?

Nerd: Dungeon of Infernal Darkness.

Geek: Can Darkness be infernal?  I mean.  Fire gives off light last time I checked.

Nerd: Maybe it’s dark as an adjective meaning bad or evil.  You know.  Like darkness of your heart.

Me:  Great.  We gotta go to some dungeon that is filled with evil fire.  F*ck that.  Why are we always going to places like Dungeon of Infernal Darkness, or Forest of Eternal Damnation or… or…

Geek: The Tower of Gargantuan Sodomites.

Me: YES.  The goddamn Tower of Gargantuan Sodomites.  Why the f*ck are we going to a Tower filled with Gargantuan Sodomites.  Why aren’t we going to places like the Castle of Taking it Easy, or the Waterfall of Butterscotch Wishes?!

Nerd: Who the hell would make a waterfall of butterscotch wishes?  That’s stupid!

Me: WHO THE F*CK MADE THE TOWER OF GARGANTUAN SODOMITES!!  Explain that reasoning to me!

So.  Yeah.  Now you know.  Lets move on. 

5. What’s next?  (if you care that is)

Well the aforementioned show I wrote goes up in February.  It’s with the Thunderbirds, and it’s going up on here.  It involves my last writing partner whose doing all the animated shorts which is bound to be a huge draw and will dwarf my meager writing…

Uber artist on my last show already allowed me to use this beauty here:

It has no literal refernec to what I wrote but I thought it captured the spirit of it.  Which is why it has served as our initial bit of promotional material.  Jeremy, your bound to read this so yeah - I’m gonna be taking advantage of your talent until you only have nubs for hands.  NUBS!

My former sketch comedy partners in crime are putting up what may be the very last stage production in NY (the current creative team assure me or threaten me that film versions will continue).  I helped create this bit of comedic fury and part of me is sad to see it go after 5 years.  Our first show occurred in 2001.  In fact, we posted our first audition call in Backstage on 9/10/2001.  The two other creators and I wondered if it was such a good idea to put up a comedy show in NY 3 months later.  Credit stubborness, we moved forward and can look back at a body of work which contains scatological humor (both definitions), incest, homicidal pizza delivery boys, bad family role-models, drugs, mental illness, inappropriate dream sequences, badly timed political humor, rascism, sexism, mysogyny, and plain mean spirited sense of humor.  It’s helped made me the shell of a man I am today.

Also, although they don’t have a website I can plug, HonkBark who put up MidSummer earlier this year will be putting up another theatrical opus next year.  An original play by fresh new playwright whose gotten a lot of critical acclaim.  If you google HonkBark you should get a couple of relevant links in NYC.  I’m definitely going to be there.

Last bit of tidying up… I started this blog to talk about the show I did last year called the Las Vega Nauts and I never finished wrapping it up so a few last blurbs.

Todd Brotze and Max Bernstein - The former played the main hero and the latter played the reformed villain who would make 2/3 of the titular title.  On-stage they were phenomenal (spelling?) and off-stage equally so.  Todd in fact was one of only two people praised in an otherwise mediocre panning of the show.  Todd of course tried to downplay his part and raise my worth - but then he went ahead and used the review on his resume.  God I love actors!

Max in particular saved the show when in the second night of performances, when the original actor playing the role he would take on, decided that this was the night he was going to pass out from drinking and missed the entire 1st act.  As I sat outside the theater which had been holding the start of the show for 30 minutes smoking my 8th cigarette wondering a) how I can write a major character out of show and b) how fast I could run away from the theater; my stage manager came up and said that I was voted to take over the part.  So I drank two beers, put on the costume (which I still have in my closet), tried to memorize lines which ironically I WROTE, and jumped on stage for two quick but agonizing scenes.  That drunk actor showed up for the second act, performed competently, and was promptly fired.  Max took over the next day and even learned all the fight choreography in an hour.  I still cry when I think about that perfect crescent kick Max managed that somehow comparatively looked like a dog lifting his leg to urinate when performed by his predecessor.

Okay. DONE.  Thanks to everyone who let me know they’ve found my rantings diverting reads.  I’ll let you know the link to the next site where I’ll start writing about the new show.

Everyone else who for some reason still gets those annoying friendster updates telling you

HEY! SANG JUST UPDATED HIS TRVIAL BLOG!  CLICK HERE AND ENJOY HIS INSANE AND RIDICULOUS BAD PROSE! MARVEL AS HE TRIES TO MAKE SENSE OF THE BANALITY OF HIS LIFE!  CLICK HERE TO SEND HIM A SMILEY FACE BECAUSE YOUR LIFE IS THAT EMPTY YOU VAPID WHORE!

but still clicks it anyway and reads it anyway I just want to say… hi! 

That’s it.  Drop a line and say hi.  But do it soon because sooner or later I’m gonna get into one of my moods and start burning bridges.  And you know how much i LOVE burning bridges.  You’ll go… hey… I haven’t been across to Sang town in a while.  I should go see it.  And you go to the body of water that separates us and to your shock there are just burning embers and a rotting wooden carcass where once stood a structural engineering marvel of friendship and trust.  But no more!  And you will look to see what could have caused this catastrophe… And there I will be… across the way… over the now formidable impasse… insane with imagined slights and delusional with a half bottle of jager smelling of gasoline dancing.  Dancing away!

"Yeah!  Taste the ashes!  Taste and revel in my pain." I’ll laugh.

You’ll explain, "Jesus Sang.  I just lost your email.  You’re kind of taking things out of proportion."

To which I’ll reply, "Your momma takes things out of proportion."

"What does that even mean?", you query.

"… uh…hmm…uh…ahh suck it!"

Indeed.  Suck it.  Suck it my dear dear friends.

Hasta and Talk soon!

Bullet point updates:

I moved out of my drug-infested neighborhood for the comfort of affluent white people who do much better drugs.  Hurrah!

I’m gearing up for another show this winter in San Francisco and remembering why I enjoy writing more than anything else.  Pudding proof can be found in that I just finished Stage managing/Asst directing a show and aside from the wonderful cast, I can honestly say I would rather suffer through an awkward reach around by a pirate with hooks for hands than do this again.

I’m taking the California Bar in less than two months because I’m a stupid masochist.

And people are pregnant, or have kids, or getting married and I’m projectile vomiting all over the place as I spin futiley around the circle of life.

Speaking of which… based on the success two of my friends had, I decided to try out this eHarmony things.  My god was it a waste of time.  I’ll let anyone whose interested know the boring details but this bit of prose below pretty much sums up my feelings.  No offense to K.P. and D.R., I like that you both found cool people.  Unfortunately the universe continues to find entertainment in matching me up with crazy bug f**kers.

WARREN

Isn’t it time you took the first step towards meeting that special person?

JOHN

When I first met her it was like…

JANE

Wow.

JOHN

Yeah! I could feel that this was going to be…

JANE

Wow.

JOHN

Yeah Wow.

WARREN

I’m Dr. Neil Clark Warren and I’m inviting you to join the ever growing number of people who have found the true joy that is finding your compatible partner.  The love of your life could be waiting for you.  Aren’t you ready?

APRIL

Cause you try these other sites and it just didn’t give me what I was really looking for.

DYLAN

Hell!  I didn’t even know what I wanted.  Thank god for that 45 page personality profile.

APRIL

Exactly!  This was a site that not only knew what I always wanted in a husband, but it told me things that I didn’t even know about myself.

DYLAN

(ominous)

Deep things.

APRIL

(even more ominous)

Deep… secret things.

WARREN

Our extensive personality profile is the tool we provide to help you find your perfect match.  Go online right now and take advantage of our free personality analysis.  Yours free with no obligations.  Join our family. Our members… are legion.

JANE

When you find out that the person you’re with is going to be the one… THE one… then nothing and I mean nothing is better than that.

JOHN

Ha ha.  Well.  Maybe except a cure for cancer.  Ha ha.

JANE

(furious)

Fuck your cure!

APRIL

Before  Dylan, my life was just a series of incompatible partners.  And then I met him.  And on our first date, as I looked into his eyes… I realized my search was over.

DYLAN

And when I looked into her eyes and saw my own crippling fear of loneliness reflected back at me, I knew deep in my heart that I was never going to be by myself again.  Never.

APRIL

I’ve never felt more close to someone than when I hold him in my arms at night.

DYLAN

(tortured)

Sometimes at night… I can still hear their screams.

WARREN

So what are you waiting for?  Your next great journey is ready to begin.  Don’t miss your chance to find the meaningful relationship that can only come from true compatibility and our thorough personality match program.  Only through the power of monogamy will my appetite be sated.  I hunger!  I hunger for commitment!

JANE

Because a kiss isn’t really a kiss until it’s with the person you’re going to spend the rest of your life with.

JOHN

(whiny)

Too bad all we do is kiss.

JANE

(bat-shit fucking crazy)

Are you ever going to let me finish a thought you whiny bitch! (reaches to unloosen her belt)

JOHN

Not the belt!

WARREN

The world could end tomorrow.  The world WILL end tomorrow.  Will you join us in the final rapture or be left behind.  Come join us.  Feel my God’s love.  Feel Orca’s love!  Orca wants you to be happy.  Orca wants you to be safe.  Because when you find someone…

Cut to COUPLE #1

JOHN & JANE

…when you find that one…

Cut to COUPLE #2

DYLAN & APRIL

…when you find THE one…

WARREN

Then your life is ready to begin.  Glory to Orca!

ALL

GLORY TO ORCA!

Ohmygod… I’m actually finishing what I started…

Profiles cont. 

Rogue’s Gallery - The Villains and the Actors of Las Vega-Nauts

"I will be having a clean…orderly…casino…no not just casino…the city.  Yes!  A city where the streets are clean, the curfew is 10:00 pm, all the lighting is flourecent and the prostitutes are the most sanitary in the world!" 

- Herr Kraftwerk

I’ve already gone into praising Jason as co-writer so let’s just add his comedic nigh-omnipotentcy to that list.  There’s a reason why Jason tends to gravitate towards the Arch Villains in the Thunderbird productions… he’s damn good at it.  And I don’t just mean as an actor… I mean he has true Darkness within him… sure he’s the loving self appointed nuturer of children and vomiting invalid cats everywhere… but sometimes… just sometimes… when you don’t think he’s being watched… a veil is lifted and beneath it is a tortured abyss that has destroyed luminaries like Ernest Hemingway and Dana Plato.  Don’t cry for Jason… he’s already dead.

FALCO 

Herr Kraftwerk, you are already being aware of the bond between twin sister and brother?

KRAFTWERK

Yes.  I know about this with the “feeling what my sibling feels”.  The “I know what you know.  I feel what you feel”.  However, when  I be hitting you upside the head, I am expecting painful reaction…not the…not the…well that.

TACO

I am sorry Herr Kraftwrk.  I am being very embarrassed.  But every time Falco gets hurt, I feel the hurt truly I do.  But the pain makes me feel something deep within my schadenfreude.

KRAFTWERK

Well. That was something I never needed knowing." 

-Falco & Taco

I first met Ron (Falco) when he played the main nemesis in Thunderbird’s 2001 production of Los Siete Magnificos… that being am evil Quaker Reverend (it’s too long to get into).  Like many gifted performers, it’s a pleasant surprise to find out that the unmitigated bastard on stage is one of the sweetest nicest people in the universe.  It’s also worth mentioning that Ron has a Bass level voice that would reverberate in your appendix if you still had one. 

Speaking of nicest people in the universe, let’s talk about Kathy (Taco). Kathy reminds me of those performers who are too modest for their own good.  Everybody knows how good they are but for whatever reason, they choose to jump on stage all too infrequently and with careful deliberation.  So thank goodness for everyone that Kathy felt this show was worth her attention especially since Kathy is one of those people who audiences gravitate to…mostly during the part of the show where she has an orgasm but I think that’s just a coincidence.

Pairing these two together had the satisfying effect of watching generous and inspiring actors with the treasured ability of not just making themselves look good but those around them …except in the last week of performances when they decided to improv bad puns.  Scratch that…ALL puns are bad.  AND just to show you how bad ALL puns are I’m gonna explain this one to you…

There’s a line in the show that goes "are there anymore gags?"  In context, gag here meant the version of "An instrument adjusted between the teeth to keep the mouth from closing during operations in the mouth or throat."  Ron & Kathy decided to AMBUSH my show by taking the other meaning of gag (a humorous anecdote or remark intended to provoke laughter).  Basically they accomplished this by pulling out those wind up chattering teeth and wearing "Grouch Marx" glasses.  Get it?

Why did I feel the need, just now to crush every bit of humor out of what was in actuality an improvised unscripted innocent and light-hearted moment?  Because I HATE puns people.  The fact that the audience laughed is the ONLY reason Kathy & Ron are not in the bottom of a well putting lotion in a basket.

"Everybody be knowing that Swiss Miss being Switzerland’s most deadly assassin.  But there little unknown facts about Swiss Miss I will be sharing with you like guilt on Jewish holiday." 

-Herr Kraftwerk describing Swiss Miss

Lisa Nowicki… wow… Lisa frigg’n Nowicki.  I unabashedly adore this woman.  Lisa probably had what potentially can be considered the most unappealling role as an Assassin dressed up in Swiss Miss outfit (the Hot Cocoa chick) who HAS NO SPEAKING LINES AT ALL.  Lisa understandably could have been irritated at playing such a character… she could have complained… she could have been chronically late… she could have done a million little crimes againt humanity.  What did she do instead?  She was committed, energetic, supportive… she helped smoothed over other people’s problems… she offered up her boyfriend as free labor… AND most importantly, whenever she walked on stage, the word "unappealling" was the farthest thing from your mind…especially if your mind had testicles… or had a vagina but liked other vaginas… or had neither but appreciated vaginas in a… oh never mind.  Suffice to say no one puts Lisa Nowick in a corner. 

Oh and special kudos to costume guru Crystal who is ready to objectify women to a degree that makes Larry Flynt go, "Oh now see here." 

Well…

Maybe he wouldn’t say that.  He’d probably just sound a bit like Marlee Matlin and then drool. 

Not that Marlee Matlin drools…

…and nothing against Marlee Matlin…

…she’s hot…

…she won an Oscar you know…

…not that it has anything to do with this entry I’m just making conversation is all.

"Grow up, hayseed! How did you think I was makin my money!? Huh? This is how the world works! There’s no such thing as heroes.  So I charge for your services! Without the money I get for you you’d be nothing! Ya hear! Nothing! You think you can survive without the money I give ya? Then do it!  Do it E!  I dare ya!  You’d be cutting yourself off at the knees.  You don’t wanna be doin that.  How will you fit in your pants then?"

- Lt. Colonel Tom Parker Jr.

Seanetta is too good for this part.  Like Anne, Matt and Lisa, you take actors who really deserve roles more suiting their ability but you have limits as a writer and sometimes the character that serves a scene or plot can only be taken so far.  I’m just making excuses here so let me just say Seanetta took on a role that needed him even if he didn’t necessarily need the role… except for that one night he stuck a giant water gun in his pants that made him walk bow-legged… or maybe it wasn’t a water gun… I dunno… I’m trying not to think about now that you mention it…

2) And now a show not worth your valuable time OR money.  So my friend over at spurn, sends me an email-vertisement about some new theater show in the West Village.  Based on the content of this email, he wondered aloud to me, “should I be taking this seriously or is it meant to be funny?”  See below:

From: Young Jean Lee

Subject: Koreans vs. Japanese vs. Whites

I am Korean-American, and my worst nightmare is to make a show about Korea called Songs of the Dragons Flying to Heaven. Songs of the Dragons Flying to Heaven presents my confused, disturbing, and frequently offensive take on my cultural background in all of its romanticized, half-informed, and brutal honesty. The show is also about being in love and trying to be happy when you’re so fucked-up that all you want to do is destroy everything in your path. But most of all, Songs of the Dragons Flying to Heaven is about white people.

The show starts with a video of me getting hit in the face repeatedly (for real) and then launches into a weird pseudo-Korean world navigated by a Korean-American, who is kind of like a contestant wandering through different stages of an identity-politics video game. Then, out of nowhere, there is a white couple having a relationship drama. The Koreans and whites alternate scenes, infecting each other thematically and occasionally coming into direct conflict, until eventually the whites "eat" the play and we never see the Koreans again. A good chunk of the play is spoken in Korean and Japanese (see if you can tell the difference!) and there’s some Korean dancing as well."

SONGS OF THE DRAGONS FLYING TO HEAVEN

Written and directed by Young Jean Lee

Video and choreography by Dean Moss

Saturday, January 21 and Sunday, January 22 ONLY!

8:30 pm at the HERE Theater.

Sang Kim is not good at many things…being motivated, showing warmth (while sober), or not talking in the 3rd person but he is good at 2 things: having a conniption and over-reacting.  Thus, please see my even handed response to Ms. Lee’s contribution to Asian Theater.  I even threw an Edward Albee ref for you high brow folks: 

Date: Thu, 19 Jan 2006 12:45:36 -0800 (PST)
From: Sang Kim <sangkimail@yahoo.com>
Subject: Re: FW: KOREANS VS. WHITE PEOPLE VS. GOATS

Well.  Apparently you can have Asian on Asian crime. 

“I am American-Korean, and my worst nightmare is to make a show about White People eating Korean People while using valuable grant money for pretentious art pieces.  I would call this show called Ballad of the Goat Fucker Pissing on My Grandma.

Ballad of the Goat Fucker Pissing on My Grandma presents my confused, contrived, and frequently derivative take on my cultural background being a suburban Korean from Hoboken, NJ in all of its romanticized, half-informed, and brutal honesty.

The show is also about being in love… and goat fucking but its mostly about being in love… being love with a goat but being so fucked-up that all you want to do is destroy everything in your path or just waste 3 years getting an MFA from Brooklyn.  Yes.  Brooklyn does give out MFAs.  It’s rumored they also give out law degrees. But most of all, Ballad of the Goat Fucker Pissing on My Grandma is about white people… and fucking goats

The show starts with a video of me hitting Young Jean Lee in the face repeatedly with a CGI goat (motion captured by Andy Serkis).  It then launches into a weird pseudo-Korean world (Flushing, Queens) navigated by the ghost of Pat Morita. Then, out of nowhere, there is a white couple having a relationship drama i.e. fucking a goat. The Koreans and whites and goats alternate scenes, infecting each other thematically and occasionally coming into direct conflict, until eventually the audience walks out and demands a refund.  A good chunk of the play is spoken in Korean and Japanese (see if it makes the play any better with subtitles!) and then Young Jean Lee comes out and pisses on my Grandma.

BALLAD OF THE GOAT FUCKER PISSING ON MY GRANDMA

Written and directed by Sang S. Kim

Video and choreography by Debbie Allen

By the way.  I have nothing against Debbie Allen and as opposed to Ms. Lee, I find Ms. Allen a legitimate force in the Performing Arts.

Okay.  Off to work.  Thanks to all who left me some very heartwarming and appreciated birthday wishes.  I did indeed have a wonderful birthday, thanks for asking.

Sigh.  You try and update a simple thing like a web based journal and you can’t even get that right.  What has it been now like… 4 months?  4 months to just say some nice things about a cast and crew that gave so much to one of the most enjoyable experiences in my life and I can’t even get that right.  Why?  Because Sang Kim has a hard time saying sincerely nice things about people.  He’s gotta be sarcastic… and mean spirited and snarky and reaching into his coal hardened heart for an ounce of sincerity and goodwill makes him sweat like donkey poo.  Wait.  Does donkey poo sweat?  I don’t think so but if it did it would be unpleasant.

Yes, for the 3 of you who actually and unexplicably noticed… I will finish my thoughts on the show… and a couple of other random things that happened in the past 4 months.

But for now I will concentrate on the 2 things that have awoken me from my Blog apathy.

1) To all you NYers… there is at this very moment, a show that is worth your attention and support.  It’s Shakespeare but do not run away… it will be Shakespeare unlike any you’ve seen.  It’s Midsummer’s Night Dream.  It’s got the requisite fairies, romance, Three’s Company-esque romantic misunderstandings and Donkey Buggering but it’s got so much more… more than Donkey Buggering you say?  Yes you pervert.  Much more.  I’m not good at selling things… the linked e-Flyer is much better at it than I so I’ll just do what any good lawyer does… I’ll bribe you.  Go see the play.  If you don’t enjoy it I will out of my own pocket, refund you.  No hyperbole*.  Just send your uncultured whinings and rants along with ticketstub/receipt to:

Sang S. Kim

536 Leavenworth St

Apt 42

San Francisco, CA 94109

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Okay.  It’s been a month since the show ended and I’m preparing the big wrap-up entry and closing this BLOG down.  Of course that monster entry is taking a while so in the mean time, I decided to peruse my Science Section of the NY Times to see if any other big science… um… stuff happened.  As I mentioned in my last Science is FUN entry, scientists and researchers are still f*cked up.

First – “A raft of new studies suggest that cyclists, particularly men, should be careful which bicycle seats they choose… The studies add to earlier evidence that traditional bicycle saddles, the kind with a narrow rear and pointy nose, play a role in sexual impotence… In a bluntly worded editorial with the articles, Dr. Steven Schrader, a reproductive health expert who studies cycling at the National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health, said he believed that it was no longer a question of ‘whether or not bicycle riding on a saddle causes erectile dysfunction.’ Instead, he said in an interview, ‘The question is, What are we going to do about it?’  The studies, by researchers at Boston University and in Italy, found that the more a person rides, the greater the risk of impotence or loss of libido. And researchers in Austria have found that many mountain bikers experience saddle-related trauma that leads to small calcified masses inside the scrotum.

Kick off those training wheels, stow away the bicycle bell and for god’s sake, STOP THAT POOR PAPERBOY because the only thing little Timmy’s gonna be delivering is a disappointed wife and emotionally crippling sexual deficiency. 

Remember all those times you were on your dirt bike and bumping and skidding as that hard plastic seat slammed into your gonads like construction crew’s piledriver…

… what’s that you say? You’re asking me to tone down on the insecure homoerotic imagery?  Hell no!  Just for that, we move on to woodland creatures making out…

Second – “The mystery of how deer and elk spread chronic wasting disease from one animal to another may be solved: their tongues are infectious.  When the animals lick or slobber on each other - a fairly common occurrence, especially among elk - the agent that causes the fatal disease may be shed from their tongues via saliva. And when they graze, leaving sloughed-off tongue cells and saliva in grass and soil, the disease could be widely transmitted.”

HA HA!  Guess, it doesn’t pay to be a slut, huh Bambi.  Remember what your mom told you before her brains got blown out… Jesus never kissed open mouthed and neither should you. 

Third – “For more than a century, scientists and laymen imagined that the mysterious gooey masses - some as large as a school bus - that wash ashore on beaches around the world came from great creatures with tentacles long enough to sink cruise ships. Warnings were issued. Perhaps, cryptozoologists speculated, the blobs were the remains of recently deceased living fossils more fearsome than the dinosaurs, or perhaps an entirely new sea creature unknown to science.  Then last year, a team of biologists based at the University of South Florida applied DNA analysis to the mystery. It turned out they were nothing more than old whale blubber. "To our disappointment," the scientists wrote, "we have not found any evidence that any of the blobs are the remains of gigantic octopods, or sea monsters of unknown species."

People ask me why I don’t like the beach.  I have many reasons and now I can add another… “floating whale fat”.  Which begs the question… how exactly did the whale fat end up on shore… is their aquatic male liposuction going on out there?  Do whales suffer from bad self esteem?  I mean they are intelligent mammals that have feelings so why can’t they feel shame and body dismorphia?  Is there a whale out there not eating krill because it’s too fattening?  Is it physically possible for a whale to be a bulimic?  I mean a whale can binge, but how can it physically purge?  It’s flippers can’t reach for god’s sake.

Finally in light of the new footage of that giant squid captured by the Japanese which supports the awful stereotype that the Japanese bring their cameras everywhere, one scientist quoted the following: "Wouldn’t it be fabulous to see a giant squid capturing its prey?" asked Dr. Roper of the Smithsonian. "Or a battle between a sperm whale and a giant? Or mating? Can you imagine that?"

No Dr. Roper.  I can’t imagine that.  I don’t want to imagine that.  You scare me Mr. Roper.  You scare me.

The Citizens of

Las Vegas

“Yep”

– Lou “Magic Parking Spot” Agoni

Bryce Allemann (The Waiter – Innocent Victim – Lou “Magic Parking Spot” Agoni)

It’s the minor parts that sometime steal the scene.  Such is the case with Mr. Allemann.  He’ll deny it of course.  The man has perfected the art of humbling himself to the n-th degree but the results are hard to deny.  It’s all too easy to cast someone of average talent in these parts… I mean… the sum of the three characters above amount to about a total of 10 lines.  But if I had gone with someone lesser, I can easily see about 16 crossroads of disaster… the smallest crack can break a show.  Thankfully, Bryce despite dealing with promotion and general house management and god knows what else, had time to for

three to six

costume changes and helping to sell several of my favorite scenes every night.

“…Fate has another cruel joke to play on her innocent ex-husband Justice.  Looks like Fate wasn’t satisfied just taking the kids, the house and the dog of happiness…she’s come for the shirt off your back.  Well you can’t have it Fate!  Damn it!  Enough’s enough.  The weekends aren’t enough.  They’re my kids too.  You don’t even like pets.  Damn you.  DAMN YOU!”

- Stan Schooster

Peter Finch (Stan Schooster)

Like much of the casting in this show, I didn’t know what I wanted until I saw it.  Perhaps it’s not the most efficient or sensible way to direct but there’s something to be said for being spontaneous and organic.  Case in point, Peter Finch.  I met Peter last year in Thunderbird’s 2004 pirate comedy where he played a womanizing Catholic priest.  Peter is one of the nicest and classy gentlemen I know… so imagine my surprise seeing Peter channel the inner demons of a tortured manic depressive alcoholic perfectly.  As Peter’s nephew pointed out… “Man. Who knew he could be hysterical as an alcoholic.  He really ought to drink more.”  Amen.

“No.  No one ever found out what that smell was and if you keep to your senses you’ll leave that sleeping bear lie because sleeping bears don’t bother anyone unless you’re lying under them.”

- Darla Dribble 

Heidi Gatty (Darla Dribble)

I love the fast talking dialogue of movies like “His Girl Friday”, “The Great McGinty”, and the Coen Bros tribute “The Hudsucker Proxy”.  When Jason told me he wanted an anachronistic female news reporter, Darla Dribble was my favorite character (next to Stan) to write.  But Darla wasn’t just about language… she was about attitude… and like most characters in this farce, she’s about repressed emotions and barely contained rage.  Someone needed to scare the beejezus out of men while at the same time enticing them.  Enter Heidi Gatty.  You can read the last entry to explain why she was picked for this part… anything I said to describe the actor – character fit would be redundant. 

“[I died] the same way Jesus did… fighting an army of rabid wookies on a distant plane!  But that’s besides the point.  You gotta believe when I tell you that you can break those chains like Chinese finger cuffs.”

- JorElvis

Matt Gunnison (Harold – Joey “The Trampoline” Feloni – Trailer Trash Male – JorElvis)

Holy sh*t this guy is funny.  That was my reaction after Matt’s audition.  Matt is a complete new addition to the Thunderbirds never having worked with any of us before.  I’m going to be remembered for only one good thing as my tenure as a director…for spotting and adopting some new members for the Thunderbirds (see further)… and frankly based on the talent that’s more than enough.  One night as Matt exited the show, an audience member turned and asked me what part Matt played.  I pointed out Matt played four different parts.  Jaw dropped.  Eyes popped.  I took the surprised recognition and “ohmygod that’s right” as a compliment to Matt’s ability to switch from role to role smoothly.

“I knew it.  I knew this was the way I was going to die.  My third grade teacher Mrs. Blumberg warned me.  She told me to behave or I’d get crushed by a novelty size block of cheese… Oh my god!  Why couldn’t it be American cheese! … Cheese is bacteria poo!  We’re eating bacteria poo!”

- Jimmy Timid

Nanrisa Lee

True story… if Nanrisa hadn’t come to auditions hung over I probably wouldn’t have cast her.  I don’t know what level of toxins was in her body but she managed to capture the put upon disgruntled paranoid nature of Jimmy perfectly.  Jimmy was very specific in my head unlike Stan… but I doubted I could find a guy who could pull off the part and be likeable.  So what would be better than to forget a guy and instead cast a loveable neurotic half Korean half Chinese gal to play the emotionally and physically abused photographer sidekick.  I’m not sure if it was inspired casting or I’m just having poor Nanrisa act out my self hatred.  Oh well.  Moving on.

“I’ve been hearing your name a lot Darla.

“It’s a catchy name.

“You’ve been asking questions.

“I’ve been looking for answers.

“Maybe you’ve been looking in the wrong place?

“Should I get my eyes checked?

“I’m saying if you’re looking for food, you should look in the kitchen.

“You saying you’re the kitchen.

“I’m not saying that.

“You’re the food?

“I’m not saying that.

“Then what are you saying cause I’m getting hungry?

“Hungry for what?

“The truth.

“The truth is an awfully big meal.

“That’s okay cause I skipped breakfast.

“You shouldn’t cause they say that’s the most important meal of the day.”

- Mayor Meyer & Darla Dribble

Anne Oxenhandler (Sally – Mayor Meyer – Trailer Trash Female)

Anne is too good for this play.  Hell.  Everybody is too good for this play, but Anne in particular but thank god I tricked her into accepting because she elevates the play.  I worked with Anne on a one act last year and didn’t even realize how good she was.  Anne has exceptional comedic timing but I can’t help but notice her voice.  Anne takes a lot of pride and effort on her voicework and it shows… I know less than a handful of people capable of pulling off the characters she does convincingly.  I don’t even need to push her as she’s her own task mistress… setting the bar ever so high for herself.  I’d tell her to not be so hard on herself but I must admit to being curious to see how much higher she could go.  To this date, the bar just keeps getting raised.

Next Time: The Rogue’s Gallery

It’s Wednesday. We just finished our first week and I’ve got a yarn to tell about it but first, let me try to keep things chronological SO…

Even more people to praise…

Bryce Allemann – The Thunderbirds follow a strict policy of equal opportunity by making sure it’s material is offensive to people of all race, religion, sexual preference and gender. Now we normally try to make sure we have that particular minority in the production or cast to use a shield (*cough* Condoleeza Rice *cough*) thus how fortunate that the much maligned Swiss has Bryce to call it’s own. In addition, Switzerland’s wayward son also happens to moonlight as our publicist. I live across the street from Bryce and his lovely wife Kathy (see later: The Cast) and I can seem him squirreling away into the night, refining and stressing about the press releases and worrying about whether we will get asses in seats. Of course if Bryce didn’t obsess and drive himself into a caffeine induced migraine, we wouldn’t have sold out half our run already NOR had nearly sold out audiences the past 5 nights. The man can promote anything… even poop in a hat.

Crystal Gariano – Without this saint from up high (or below as she would probably prefer) most of the cast would be naked. An image that comes with mixed results but we’ll get to that later. Crystal got drafted near the end of the rehearsal process and managed to have everyone fitted into an iconic costume that exceeded my expectations. She will tell you privately that I was not a bundle of joy to work with near the end with my frequent stress fits and inclination to maul, but she gave up a week of vacation just to among other things, find and retrofit an old German Army uniform and create a showgirl outfit for a… rather plus sized male. Praise be to her. The disbelief is easily suspended thanks to her.

Dana Constance – Dana’s work will easily be recognized thanks to the wonderful poster and graphics he created for the various modes of publicity (www.thunderbirdtheatre.com). But there is another job that this man had to deal with that will never truly be appreciated. Mr. Constance had the truly odious and thankless role of being my stage manager half way through the rehearsal process. The stage manager is essentially the filter of a show… all the emotional drama, the chaos, the fits, the egos, the insecurities, go through this guy and he cleans up after it. This is the liver of the show. Dana took this thankless role and never looked back. He now has developed mental cirrhosis but he’s a wayward Catholic from Boston and a Red Sox fan so no one can really tell the difference.

Kai Morrison – You cannot have a play about super heroes without gratuitous violence. And if you’re looking for mayhem, look no further than this man. Kai despite a busy schedule doing… er… something… was kind enough to take on the role of taking some raw recruits and beating them into a dance of blood and sport that answers the question of “is there ever too much violence?” Answer: “No. Now go wax my Hyundai.”

Paul Gatty – He maintains the now frequently updated and smoother Thunderbird Website. He is also married to Heidi (see below) and I suspect is the main reason Heidi and I have not ended in a double homicide. He also enjoys anime, comics, and first person shooter games… he gives hope that male geeks of this type will actually get married… so long as you’re a six foot tall white guy making six figures and have an ample supply of *cough* medicinal narcotics. Paul also got me addicted to Fudge pops.

Yes.

I’m talking about Fudge pops as a frozen dessert and not some sexually explicit euphemism. Grow up. Fudge pops. I just said it again. Why are you laughing? Fudge pops. Geez.

Christine McClintlock – It’s one thing to write a show with demonic voices, a phantom zone and a 1500 pound block of cheese… it’s an entirely different thing to actually make it work on stage. Allow me to introduce Christine who on a few weeks notice, put together a library of music and sound that helped me get closer to achieving an action comic feel. I’m speaking of the words like CRASH… SLAM… CLANK… WRRR… and OXYMORON! She also arranged a gospel number and dealt with the delusions of tone deaf alcoholic (more on that later).

Heidi Hernandez Gatty – Heidi despite her grumbling reluctance to serve the dual role of actress and production manager, took on the role admirably.  Her worth and importance to the show cannot adequately be conveyed. So in lieu, I present this allegory:

The first time I met Heidi was in 2000. I walked to my first rehearsal of the first show I ever acted in and was met by a comely young lady bearing a cat of nine tails who introduced herself as my stage manager. And then she hit me. Wouldn’t be the last time.

Heidi has for the last 5 years been a name I’ve associated with in no particular order – professionalism, fear, generosity, stubbornness, charm, terror, pain, friendship, rage, confidant, perseverance, recreational drug abuse and fear.

Need another example?

Okay.

Imagine you’re watching A Land Before Time.

Now imagine Littlefoot the baby brontosaurus leaping forth from your tv set. He kicks your teeth in and pours 15 year old scotch down your throat. He then throws you into his Tran-Am and drives to the nearest strip joint. Buys you several lap dances then gets you and him kicked out for excessive touching. He crashes the car but you survive because he fastened your seat belt. Then he apologizes and buys you a chip-wich. Then Littlefoot punches you in the testicles.

Actually, Heidi has little do with an animated Don Bluth film but I just like the idea of an animated baby bronto getting a lap dance.

Jason Harding – Motherf*cker does it all… act, write, set design and fight choreograph. He has a full time job and has become half the parental unit of three kids. He guards nature, puppies, the rainbow of eternal happiness and the waterfall of butterscotch wishes.

He forms the head of Voltron. The motherf*cking head! No. Not the frigg’n right leg. That’s the Blue Lion. Does he look like a pansy ass princess? I don’t think so. Shut the f*ck up.

If Jason was a Transformer he would have a shovel for a hand… a goddman shovel you hear me!

Five years ago, we had a 2 hour email exchange on gobots, swamp creatures and parallel dimensions. I’ve been stuck with him ever since.

… Please… kill me.

Next Entry: The Cast.

Last night was the last rehearsal before we move into the theater.  That’s where the pain of Tech Week begins.  Tech Week for the uninitiated and blissfully ignorant is when all the elements of a show - sound, music, lighting, costume, props - are finally thrown all together at the end of the rehearsal process of a production. 

It’s essentially like trying to get 5 different species of monkeys to not only get along in a confined space but to re-enact Andrew Lloyd Weber’s Starlight Express…

… sounds stressful and difficult don’t it?  You’d be right but if you survive and come out at the end of it… well… then you got monkeys on skates… do you hear me?  Motherfucking monkeys on skates.  That trumps everything.

So anyway, since I’m nearing show time and essentially this BLOG’s expiration, I’d thought I’d highlight some of the people involved in this show.

In no particular order is Artist Extraordinaire and Las Vega-Nauts Conceptual Artist – Jeremy Arambulo.  This guy is my Geoff Darrow… he’s my Douglas Chiang… if you don’t know who those two are than you will probably won’t understand how hyperbolic this guy’s talent is.  Doubt me?  Check out this art here.  And here.  Jeremy’s art is so cool that it will sleep with your girlfriend and than kick you in the nuts.  That’s how hardcore it is.  Then it will buy you a beer and you will drink and laugh with it.  Then it won’t return your phone calls and you’ll wonder what you did wrong.

Everytime I got stressed about whether or not people would find this show funny, I just looked at the artwork and said to myself, “Wow.  That art is good.  It’s too good.  It’s overshadowing the show. Dammit.  No way the show will come close to that art.  Damn you.  DAMN YOU.  DAMN YOU Jeremy Arambulo!  You will drink deep from the teat of vengeance tonight!”

Anyway. To sum up:

Jeremy Art good.

Sang Writing weird.

More people later.  Including my co-writer who just got his computer up after it was infested with porn virus.  Yech.

A parent contacted us this morning asking if our show was appropriate for kids, 10 and under.  The following was my response.  I honestly don’t even know when I’m being serious or facetious anymore.

"Thank you for your interest in the show and I hope you find this email informative.

Bryce is correct that the show is modeled after 1950’s comic books so although there is practically no explicit humor or language, there are insinuations and entendres.  Nothing that would raise a flag with a TV censor but that may not be saying much given TV these days.

So let me break it down into the following categories:

Language: The word "bastard" is used twice. The word "frick’n" is used thrice. The word "fellatio"…not the act but just the word is used as a pun.   And one character silently mimes the word "shit".  The show is extremely light on adult language but the imagery conveyed by language is at times adult oriented.

Violence: Like an action comic book, there is carefully choreographed fights. Thus there is punching, kicking and many things you’d often find on Cartoon Network or Kids WB.  There are gunshots throughout the show since gangsters are featured.

Drug Use: One character in the show is an alcoholic and drinks throughout the show.  As a writer, I’d like to say that he’s representative of the evils of substance abuse, but in truth, the drunkeness is used mostly just for laughs.

Sex: There is no sex in the show.  There’s not even kissing.  There’s some hugging and hand holding but I promise that is all very tastefully done.  But since the show is set in Las Vegas, there are insinuations and innuendo.  The subject of lapdances and callgirls is the basis of some jokes.  One character gets awkwardly sexually excited but to comic effect.

Kid approved: But perhaps the best litmus test for the show is other kids.  My co-writer has two daughters (7 year old twins) and he’s brought them to the rehearsals.  I can assure you that they enjoyed themselves and never blinked an eye at some of the more adult humor.  Like most 7 year olds, they laughed at mostly funny voices or facial expressions.  And more importantly, there were no awkward explanations about some of the more adult humor.

The show length will be approximately 90 minutes including intermission.  We endeavor to always start on time but the margin of error may be 15 minutes or so just to be on the safe side regarding bed time.  Hope you can make it.  Thanks for your interest!"