1. 20:20 15th Sep 2014

    Notes: 45

    Reblogged from ahundredjarsofsky

    heylittlejess:

    i) you are not as fragile as you have perceived yourself to be, even in your most vulnerable moments.

    ii) you are not as hardened as you would like to portray to potential friends, lovers, and anyone else who might try to crawl inside your heart.

    iii) your hands will always tremble, your teeth will always be slightly crooked, and your eyes will always give away your emotions.

    iv) though you have become cautious, you are not fooling yourself or anyone else by denying that you know what it’s like to be in real love.

    v) the mistakes you’ve made are outshined by your ability to forgive others.

    vi) get more sleep.

     
  2. Stubs of Stories

    It’s a Sunday afternoon, I have no voice, and I’m fervently procrastinating whatever work or functional, positive, developmental/creative thing I intended to do otherwise. What better point in the time/space continuum for me to continue my procrastination and write on my tumblr?

    Afterglow

    Networking is awesome.

    I was full of beans and fizz and energy; and this, mind you, was on a Friday morning, after having turned in at 1am the night before, after almost an hour-long travelling on a bus, with wet socks and on an empty stomach with only half a (warm) bottle of beer in my belly.

    Still awesome. I was restless and eager and bright and cheery all morning; I wanted to sing and shout and run and fly, smiling at everyone. The oddest afterglow in my cheeks.

    What had happened was, we’d rolled up to this odd rooftop networking event, about an hour late and after all the rain had fallen, turning everything wet. There was nothing to do but talk, and not much of a view anyway.

    So I talked. I said hello, started yammering, got the conversation to an interesting point, then said ‘excuse me’ and went to talk to something else.

    I’m an introvert; yet I found this oddly invigorating. Possibly because like very few networking sessions I go to, nobody was trying to sell anyone else anything. Just people talking, slightly drunk, for no good reason at all.

    I loathe beer. Cider is tolerable and more than a little flavourful to me, but beer is simply torture. I summon the powers from swallowing lousy JC food and medicines to gulp it down and not say a word, It’s bloating, and bitter, and unpleasant in all sorts of ways. Maybe I’ll learn to appreciate it as I get older, like chilli sauce or coffee.

    But the great thing about beer is that it helps me socialise. I go red and my eyes go red and people excuse what would otherwise be terrible social habits. I talk really fast and gesticulate and emote and people seem to relax around me knowing it’s because I’m drunk, rather than worry that I may break out into a song-and-dance routine about the sun shining tomorrow and where you should bet your bottom dollar.

    And so I talked and talked and talked and talked. At one point I tried to do the whole charming/challenging thing to a bunch of people who’d heard about us. Blagh, Didn’t go so well — gave out a bunch of cards, but nobody’s added me on FB/LI yet.

    Always ask for their numbers, eh?

    It’s strange and liberating, and of course I don’t do anything after the networking, which seems a pity, but it’s a start…

     
  3. 09:53 13th Sep 2014

    Notes: 109

    Reblogged from anotherdayinadvertising

     
  4. 19:35 10th Sep 2014

    Notes: 8599

    Reblogged from mdphoon

    tastefullyoffensive:

Artist Mike S. Miller's rendition of Groot and Rocket from 'Guardian's of the Galaxy' as Calvin and Hobbes.

    tastefullyoffensive:

    Artist Mike S. Miller's rendition of Groot and Rocket from 'Guardian's of the Galaxy' as Calvin and Hobbes.

     
  5. 19:35

    Notes: 1260

    Reblogged from wafersofsighs

    georgetakei:

From a fan. Remember, as you read this post: There’s a world outside just waiting to be enjoyed.

    georgetakei:

    From a fan. Remember, as you read this post: There’s a world outside just waiting to be enjoyed.

     
  6. 22:09 24th Aug 2014

    Notes: 2936

    Reblogged from thelittlegoodineveryday

    image: Download

    Two of my comedy inspirations are Rowan Atkinson and Robin Williams. It’s also why I have a silly walk.
No, not like the mad, John Cleese, Pythonesque high-kicking and twisting and all that. Just a slightly unusual, faintly comedic walk, or weird hustle-across-the-road that faintly delights kids if they spot me.
One day, I was having dinner with a friend, and I don’t know what, but I just made him laugh. We normally make each other chuckle, we’ve known each other for long enough, but it seemed like he was down and dark and deep that evening, and out of nowhere he had a giggling spurt for a few minutes. And that felt good; it felt like making people laugh was at last a useful superpower.
And hey, I’m a comedian. Surely this is easy.

    Two of my comedy inspirations are Rowan Atkinson and Robin Williams. It’s also why I have a silly walk.

    No, not like the mad, John Cleese, Pythonesque high-kicking and twisting and all that. Just a slightly unusual, faintly comedic walk, or weird hustle-across-the-road that faintly delights kids if they spot me.

    One day, I was having dinner with a friend, and I don’t know what, but I just made him laugh. We normally make each other chuckle, we’ve known each other for long enough, but it seemed like he was down and dark and deep that evening, and out of nowhere he had a giggling spurt for a few minutes. And that felt good; it felt like making people laugh was at last a useful superpower.

    And hey, I’m a comedian. Surely this is easy.

    (Source: kushandwizdom)

     
  7. 00:25 22nd Aug 2014

    Notes: 1

    Reblogged from d-rpg

    d-rpg:

    1

    tl;dr Today I did some comedy and I bombed. I bombed terribly.

    (some extended music)

    IN OTHER NEWS Two people died during a chess tournament in Norway.

    • I don’t really know much about this story, I just caught it en passant
    • Well, that doesn’t bode well for the rest of my chess-related puns. I’m going to be forked.
    • This is going to be a really tough crowd. People have red-letter days, that’s a good thing, this is a bad evening, a black knight to see one.
    • I can throw away my set. I should sell it to a Norwegian, maybe they’ll understand my chess puns. Maybe I could rent it, or maybe I could pawn it.
    • That was the second version of the joke, the first one was me talking about violence in chess. There isn’t really any, which is also why there isn’t any “chess porn” lately, unless you want to watch it in black and white.
    • You’ll get board. Chess-board.
    • Seriously, I think everybody should learn to play chess, it’s fun, you don’t need to own a castle or be a bishop to know how to play it. It’s really ***king great!
    • And that’s all my puns. Okay, okay, nobody plays chess, this is too highbrow. Sorry everyone, I’m leaving now. Check! Check, mate!
     
  8. The Worst Demons of My Nature

    1.

    I talk the talk, but to be honest I don’t walk the walk. If anything I’d much prefer to ride a bus or a train or a cab.

    I say I run to keep fit, but the truth is I don’t even run; I walk. I like to blow myself up, but really it’s all made-up.

    And even talking about make-up, as a sign of how lazy I am, I bought good make-up and stopped worrying about my face. Rather than try, y’know, to keep it clean and clear and aim for a Korean complexion, I relaxed and just thought: ehh, never mind the pimples, I’ll just wear make-up when I perform.

    I just explained what I’d heard to someone: performance is the ultimate mirror. Maybe it’s more an endoscope than a mirror. When you improvise, you have no material but what’s inside you, and you turn your insides into raw inspiration and firmament, building your world with your secrets and thoughts and feelings and shit and organs and flesh and blood and heart. With nothing, you can only draw from within, and what comes out is terrifying because it is you, it was in you all along, and what you may have to confront is what is inside you and has been all along.

    The hardest truths to confront are the lies you tell yourself.

    2.

    I think one thing that I do have going for is this: I have, through some luck, some good habits.

    Thousands of terrible ones, of course, but there are some good ones. Giving a shit. Attempted efficiency and optimization. Shamelessness in asking people for their opinions.

    I don’t deny; I am antisocial. On the one hand I recognise it as a truly destructive problem; waiting at a bus-stop, I would intentionally stand out-of-sight and behind a pillar rather than walk up to the acquaintance and start chatting. I have; I did, just this week. I hide everything behind sudoku on my phone and podcasts in my ears. The podcasts itself are a manifestation of the crippling symptoms of antisociality; craving people and voices and thoughts and stories, I turn to canned spam, substitute mock meat, listening to pre-recorded conversations and pretending that I’m having some, any, at all.

    On the other hand, there’s this crippling fear of crowds and people and intimacy and others. People hurt, and I’m never sure of the rules for associating or dissociating. I panic, I’m awkward, and when things are unclear I always mess and bungle things up.

    A comedian once put it this way: performers are messed up, and you can tell. You can tell because in a theatre, in a pub, there’s five hundred people seated facing one way and the performer’s the only idiot looking in the wrong direction, onstage, lit by lights and everyone else looking. There’s something in the truth that people are moved to perform because they crave the attention and validation from the audience, and imagine they can find love and happiness and satisfaction from it.

    Some of them do.

    And maybe it’s a symptom of my own brokenness that I take to performing naturally; not because of all the attention-seeking and crying-out-to-people-to-love-me, but simply because the lines are very clear, and demarcated by footlights and elevated platform. It’s the perfect social interaction medium for someone who worries about them #blurredlines. The place where there is no question about the rules; you get up there and make them laugh, then come downstairs and **** off. You don’t have to talk to them before, and you can talk to them after once they’re laughed out and they already love you. No sweat.

    Stage. Audience. Lit. Darkness. One. Many. Wrong way. Right way. Putting it all out there, risking it, taking a chance, safe in the herd?

    Not for me. I’m safest onstage.

    3.

    Basically tl;dr today I got reamed. My career — really more of a careen — has been befraught. I could blame the environment, easily, there’s tons of trials and tribulations and more bullshit than in the Augean Stables that Hercules needs to clean out, but the feedback has all been about me.

    The feedback has been largely negative.

    It’s not been wrong, I don’t think. I don’t deny the intellectual laziness or the fatigued cynicism and general displeasure or angriness. Maybe Michael Jackson was right; you gotta start with the man in the mirror, and when life gives you crap by gee golly jeepers you gotta find a way to squeeze lemon juice out of it. And even now I’m not admitting to my mistakes, doing a sort of half-assed guilt-trippy passive-aggressive “Yeah, I’m shit, but they’re assholes!” shtick. That’s probably a fault, too, not calling people out on their honestly negative practices and incredibly draining, discouraging environment.

    It would be easy to give up. So easy; and frankly it seems the much better option to leave gracefully (and accursed) than to try again. Why fight the rising tides and the crashing waves on a sinking ship?

    What do I do? Help.

     
  9. 21:59 12th Aug 2014

    Notes: 317547

    Reblogged from anbarsky

    bresketch:

I can honestly say this movie, this man’s performance, got me through many tough times. Rest in peace, you beautiful spirit. And thank you, sir, for all the lives you’ve touched.

I do improv because it’s art; because it moves people; because it moves me, because it reminds me I am alive.
X.

    bresketch:

    I can honestly say this movie, this man’s performance, got me through many tough times. Rest in peace, you beautiful spirit. And thank you, sir, for all the lives you’ve touched.

    I do improv because it’s art; because it moves people; because it moves me, because it reminds me I am alive.

    X.

     
  10. Showing Off My Salsa Skills

    Anh raised a good point last week, and I couldn’t really answer it properly I feel. But, the answer came to me as I was washing dishes. To reiterate, the situation was

    "Kim said that negotiation scenes were always bad."

    This is why we rotate trainers, too, everybody adds value in a different way/direction.

    Last week, we did a short exercise to get everyone used to negotiating things, before we played Last Line, where you had to ‘negotiate’ and manipulate your partner into saying what you wanted them to say. One way to think about it is that each exercise leads into an actual game — Last Line is a real game, and often games have weird rules that trains certain skills.

    This week, I’m going to explain by dancing. Watch. This is how I do my Salsa dance — Kim, Hazel, you probably haven’t seen this…

    (basic eights)

    ..bit lame without a partner and a music, but looks pretty good, right? Don’t answer. Now, this is what I actually do when I was young and healthy and hot and had a flat tummy and trained for Salsa:

    (chest stomach shoulders hips knees isolation) ((maybe think about doing it the other way))

    Does not look the same at all.

    I used to be pretty good at isolation, but it took forever to put it altogether into a dance. It’s complex, and it takes a lot of practice, like some theatrical arts we do. And isolation is painful and tough and boring and impossible for some people. The shoulder thing is rough, my hips aren’t perfect, but every time we push a little more, we look a little better, and we keep going at it until it all clicks and we get it.

    Negotiation scenes are bad, agreed, but what I’m doing is ‘isolating’ your problem-solving, negotiating, thinking part. I didn’t really think it up in so many words, I just looked at the problem and worked backwards — something else we’ll do today. I looked at Last Line, and wondered, what skill do you need? Secret objective mission-completing. Making people do things for you. Negotiating; so many things I could talk about negotiating. When to give up, whether to give up, approaching the request circuitously versus making a clear demand versus issuing an ultimatum versus relying on influence and persuasion…

    But ultimately sometimes we need to ‘move’ each other, for example, if people are stuck, or if you need help, or if you’re trying to solve a problem. It’s about communication, my secret mission was to talk about endowments: how to tell people what to do, and how to tell people what to do without literally telling them.

    And that’s the workshop for today. Everybody up!