Caught Bush’s speech tonight.

So nice that the administration told the networks that the speech was to commemorate 9/11 and honor those who died….except what we got was more desperate attempts to defend Bush’s increasingly obvious mistake to invade Iraq, linking it to “the War on Terror”, and reminding us that “we need to be united” (in other words, don’t listen to the 2/3rds of the American people who disagree with the administration….and for God’s sake, whatever you do, don’t vote us out of power, ‘cuz that wouldn’t be “united”….).

I know I shouldn’t be surprised when a Republican exploits 9/11 for their own political gain, but I figured that doing so on the day itself, in the guise of a commemoration, was beyond the bounds of even that morally-bankrupt philosophy.

Huh. Guess not.

KCRF 2006 Second Weekend: The Good, The Bad & The Ugly

Another week down.

The Good:

  • The Last Huzzah: The Courting Italians have been contracted to run the Last Huzzah as our own gig, and we’ve been taking steps to try to bring it back towards what it once was. To that end, we included “The Wild Rover” on Saturday, much to the delight of the Queen and those veteran performers who remembered when this was a staple. The crowd (and the newer performers) picked it up without a hitch, as I had hoped they would, and the front gate rang with the cries of “NO! NAY! NEVER!!” *clapclapclapclap!* It’s been a great feeling.
  • General Naughtiness: A couple of patrons, in costume (Fairy and be-horned) walked down the lane, to which I said ‘Ah….a horny man and a woman with a smile on her face.” The woman stopped, and decided to play as a fairy….saying to me, in an arch tone. “Did you just call me a woman?” I looked her dead in the eye and responded: “I did. Sorry about that…I must have been distracted by the breasts.” She opened her mouth to say something else….and then just completely broke, cracking up. I love my job.
  • Playing at balls on Sunday: Courtesans vs. Whores, in a variation of bocce (or “boules”), playing for Casanova’s brothel tab, double or nothing. Sexual innuendos abounded (handling balls, blowing on them, etc.), and I’m proud to say that my debt has been cleared.
  • The Brothel’s gift to the Virgin Queen: A mini vibrator. Her reaction was classic—a squeal of delight, follow by a quick resumption of bawdy regality. Even funnier was when and I broke her during parade: They’ve got the queen riding through parade on horseback, which is a breathtaking picture. As she passed us, we got her attention, and then both vibrated while saying “BZZZZZZZZ!” She quickly covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her laughter.
  • Limericks: I got to deliver a couple during the Pub Sing, both well-received. The Robin Hood limerick actually got a bit of additional play from , which made me feel like I’d gotten the stamp of approval from a performer that I’ve admired since I was a teenager. The limerick in question: “Robin Hood is not very quick; Always falling for Little John’s trick; While Robin’s waylaid, John’s with Marion Maid, and together they play with his stick.” To which Seymoure responded: “So what you’re saying is that it was a staffing problem.”
  • Here’s a lovely shot of and I during the Chess Match. (courtesy of )

The Bad:

  • The weather, which threatened rain all weekend, and finally produced some on Sunday, had my energy down considerably. Due to the weather, and the Chiefs home opener, we also had low attendance on both days. Ah well.
  • Toothache reared up again mid-way through Saturday. Hard to be “teh sexxay” when you’re in pain, as it turns out. Problem eventually solved, thanks to modern pharmacological advancements.

The Ugly:

  • Out of Control Divas: The former Queen, who is now playing the Gypsy HarpyHarpist is completely out of fucking control. She’s realized that she’s no longer the center of attention and has lost her fucking mind. Plus, all of the people whom she treated like shit during her reign have been ignoring her, now that she’s playing a character that merits no deference. I have heard from others that she’s interrupted other acts during performances at the Queen’s Tea, she’s insinuated herself into scenes with other characters….and she’s been inserting herself into Last Huzzah, culminating on Saturday with her completely interrupting me to give herself an entrance. During the show, she threw us off by trying to lead our songs at different tempos and different keys than those we had rehearsed. HELL NO, says I.

    I spoke to the director on Sunday, and received confirmation that she was not contracted to do the show with us (as he is a push-over when it comes to her, I had feared this was the case). However, he left it to us to handle. The plan was to let and do it, as they have known her longer, and any interaction with them was far less likely to involve copious use of the word “cunt.” However, when, on Sunday morning, she tried to direct us as to what songs we’d be doing that afternoon, and continued to talk over when given reasonable answers to the contrary, I realized that subtlety was not going to work. I stood, and said “with all due respect, we’ve been contracted to run The Last Huzzah as a stage show…and we’ll do it as WE wish.” She stomped off in a huff. Problem solved, though. She stayed back with the musicians during that afternoon’s performance.

    Other performers came up to me at various points during the day to thank me for “stomping her down.” Fer chrissakes, people — if some of you had done it when she first started to Diva Out, it wouldn’t have gotten to be as big a problem as it has turned out to be.


Yes, this is the obligatory 9/11 post. Skip it if you want to.

“Never forget.” I saw this on more than a few T-shirts this weekend. Fucking T-shirts — worn by people who had never been to the places that were attacked, probably never would have, and more than likely viewed those places with a faint disapproving suspicion before the attacks. T-shirts, like those commemorating your attendance at the latest Toby Keith concert tour, or declaring your admiration for the philosophy of “Git-R-Done.” T-shirts. Tragedy Souvenirs.

I remember. I remember the burning smell that lingered for more than a week. I remember the coldly comforting sound of the high roaring whine of fighter jets, wheeling in a combat air patrol over my house. I remember the first time I saw a commercial airliner in the sky again, and the fear response — adrenaline, cold sweat and trip-hammer heartbeat — that resulted. I remember the people I knew who died.

I remember, for a moment, that things actually changed. We actually cared about what happened to eachother. The media stopped feeding us an endless diet of JonBenet, Celebrity breakups, shark attacks and missing blonde girls, and actually tried to keep us informed. Our leaders, for a moment, seemed to have the best interests of the country in mind.

Of course, all of that went away. The media went back to Bread & Circuses. Folks who weren’t involved with 9/11 started using it as a bludgeon, to question the patriotism of others…including, outrageously, people who were involved and lost loved ones. If you don’t agree with the neo-conservative agenda, you’re “living in a pre-9/11 world.” That little American flag worn on the lapel has gone from a sign of solidarity as a nation to a signal of the wearer being a “real American”…and hence better than you.

They say that everything changed on 9/11. This is true. Unfortunately, the changes for the better went away after a while. The only change we’ve been left with his how our country has changed over the past five years, into a country that launches pre-emptive wars, imprisons people without charges, engages in torture, ignores the plight of its own citizens, and questions the loyalty of anyone who disagrees with the government.

Those changes may never be undone.

Never forget.

Never forget what we once were.