John from Cincinnati, HBO, 2007. Season 1, Episode 4: His Visit: Day 3 (1st aired 7/1/2007)
Puccini has been channeled at long last. Verismo has been reincarnated through John. We have gloriously long passages of recitativo and fully orchestrated arias. But unlike La Boheme, I laugh to a state of ignominy. These episodes are viewed privately, unobserved and with the finest wine my modest budget can afford.
Have no doubt, favored readers, this is opera. It's also the best series on television; the only 4 star going. An alternative theory is that it induces an hallucination. Of course, if we are seeing the same events it's an occurrence of collective veridical hallucination, that famous and often discounted bugaboo.
I can hear the chairs scrape as you push back from your screen and reach for another cold one. Nah, it's not going to be one of those nights. I'm still high (legally, I hope) from a fresh viewing of Mr. Monad's 3rd day in LaLa Land.
The concept of monad is maddeningly simple and complex, as you probably know. How can the ultimate, indivisible unit of the Greeks be also the essence of Monism or the most primal aspect of God as seen by the Gnostics? Surely you've been asking yourself the same question?
What's your conclusion? Those who applied for admission to the alien school of thought should seriously ponder rewriting history and making the famous black marks across passages now deemed confidential and vital to their positions in society. Or, sit back and re-watch Mr. O'Neill's monologs to his tweety bird. There's gotta be an Emmy waiting for his name.
"Where's the dwarf with the dangling arm?"
"He's in our shared bathroom."
"I'm here on orders from my bird."
"If you're waitin on me to ask ya what you're talkin about, plan on fallin over dead before I do."
"My bird Zippy conveyed to me, despite the obvious dissimilarities between us, we become friends."
"He used the word dissimilarities?"
"He conveyed. He conveyed. I never said he spoke."
The above is part of the script from the final scene, at the motel, between Mr. O'Neill and the Hawaiian, Deadwood's Dayton Callie. So I have a silly grin on my face. I'm watchin you.
Puccini has been channeled at long last. Verismo has been reincarnated through John. We have gloriously long passages of recitativo and fully orchestrated arias. But unlike La Boheme, I laugh to a state of ignominy. These episodes are viewed privately, unobserved and with the finest wine my modest budget can afford.
Have no doubt, favored readers, this is opera. It's also the best series on television; the only 4 star going. An alternative theory is that it induces an hallucination. Of course, if we are seeing the same events it's an occurrence of collective veridical hallucination, that famous and often discounted bugaboo.
I can hear the chairs scrape as you push back from your screen and reach for another cold one. Nah, it's not going to be one of those nights. I'm still high (legally, I hope) from a fresh viewing of Mr. Monad's 3rd day in LaLa Land.
The concept of monad is maddeningly simple and complex, as you probably know. How can the ultimate, indivisible unit of the Greeks be also the essence of Monism or the most primal aspect of God as seen by the Gnostics? Surely you've been asking yourself the same question?
What's your conclusion? Those who applied for admission to the alien school of thought should seriously ponder rewriting history and making the famous black marks across passages now deemed confidential and vital to their positions in society. Or, sit back and re-watch Mr. O'Neill's monologs to his tweety bird. There's gotta be an Emmy waiting for his name.
"Where's the dwarf with the dangling arm?"
"He's in our shared bathroom."
"I'm here on orders from my bird."
"If you're waitin on me to ask ya what you're talkin about, plan on fallin over dead before I do."
"My bird Zippy conveyed to me, despite the obvious dissimilarities between us, we become friends."
"He used the word dissimilarities?"
"He conveyed. He conveyed. I never said he spoke."
The above is part of the script from the final scene, at the motel, between Mr. O'Neill and the Hawaiian, Deadwood's Dayton Callie. So I have a silly grin on my face. I'm watchin you.
posted by the Bay at 10:05 PM
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