Josh just forwarded this to me.
A man boarded an airplane and took his seat. As he settled in, he glanced up and saw an unusually beautiful woman boarding the plane. He soon realized she was heading straight toward his seat. Lo and behold, she took the seat right beside his. Eager to strike up a conversation, he blurted out, "Business trip or vacation?"
She turned, smiled, and said, "Business. The annual Sexual Education Convention in Chicago."
He swallowed hard. Here was the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen sitting next to him, and she was going to a meeting for sex education! Struggling to maintain his composure, he calmly asked, "What's your business role at this convention?"
"Lecturer," she responded. "I use my experience to debunk some of the popular myths about sexuality."
"Really," he said. "What myths are those?"
"Well," she explained. "One popular myth is that African American men are the most well endowed, when in fact, it's the Native American Indian who is most likely to possess that trait."
"Another popular myth is that French men are the best lovers, when actually it is the men of Jewish descent. We have, however, found that the best potential lover in all categories is the Southern Redneck."
Suddenly, the woman became a little uncomfortable and blushed. "I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't really be discussing this with you. I don't even know your name."
"Tonto," the man said. " Tonto Steinburg. But my friends call me Bubba."
Wednesday, April 30, 2003
Tuesday, April 29, 2003
Mel Gibson is working on a new movie called The Passion. What drew my attention is the fact that the entire movie will be in Aramaric and Latin. No Subtitles. I found this article. It turns out that this is going to be a very realistic portrayal of Jesus's last 12 hours and the resseruction...I can't wait to see it.
Posted by Justin at 9:09 AM
Monday, April 28, 2003
Friday, April 25, 2003
Then Job answered: "No doubt you are the people, and wisdom will die with you. But I have understanding as well as you; I am not inferior to you. Who does not know such things as these? I am a laughingstock to my friends; I, who called upon God and he answered me, a just and blameless man, I am a laughingstock. Those at ease have contempt for misfortune, but it is ready for those whose feet are unstable.
The tents of robbers are at peace, and those who provoke God are secure, who bring their god in their hands. "But ask the animals, and they will teach you; the birds of the air, and they will tell you; ask the plants of the earth, and they will teach you; and the fish of the sea will declare to you. Who among all these does not know that the hand of the Lord has done this? In his hand is the life of every living thing and the breath of every human being. Does not the ear test words as the palate tastes food?
Is wisdom with the aged, and understanding in length of days? "With God are wisdom and strength; he has counsel and understanding. If he tears down, no one can rebuild; if he shuts someone in, no one can open up. If he withholds the waters, they dry up; if he sends them out, they overwhelm the land. With him are strength and wisdom; the deceived and the deceiver are his. He leads counselors away stripped, and makes fools of judges. He looses the sash of kings, and binds a waistcloth on their loins. He leads priests away stripped, and overthrows the mighty. He deprives of speech those who are trusted, and takes away the discernment of the elders. He pours contempt on princes, and looses the belt of the strong. He uncovers the deeps out of darkness, and brings deep darkness to light. He makes nations great, then destroys them; he enlarges nations, then leads them away. He strips understanding from the leaders of the earth, and makes them wander in a pathless waste. They grope in the dark without light; he makes them stagger like a drunkard.
Posted by Justin at 8:55 AM
Thursday, April 24, 2003
This started as a comment on Cliff's blog, but it got to be too long.
I know the journey I am on, and through that have come to the conclusions I have come to. The journey I am taking is a search for, I guess, pureness. Pureness, not in the clean, white as snow, pureness, but pureness as true, raw, and honesty is what I mean. This journey has led me to my belief that one should "live the faith", but how that is done is totally different. I believe in action and have a fascination with the sacred and profane...rather the sacred in the profane. That is why you can find me in a bar at 11:30 on a weeknight. Does the make me unfaithful?
Talking to Del Toro who went to Woodstock in ë68 over a couple of beers, M-1 telling me about his latest female conquest, Bar Tender D telling me he wants a nose job, Hobos and Hookers across the street, used condoms and broken paraphernalia in the alley, Rachel who wants to be Cinderella in Into The Woods, Fish, up on Broadway, who has my back because I gave him a dime once 2 years ago, the gang-bangers who made sure I was safe leaving their hood after closing a store that helped out the hood, and their babies. These are the people I love. [Note: it is 4 hours since I started this, and well, as I tend to do, I have completely shifted focusÖoh well.] How can they not be loved? They may scare you, make you cry, break your heart, but they are the most pure people I can think of. Nothing is in the way. They donít look down on people. They donít look up to people. They just look to people. They are scraping to get by. So am I. So do my friends. But I know my ego gets in the way.
This quest for pureness is the closest I think one can get to God on this earth. Let the old blue-hair teach you how to make the sign of the cross. Enjoy the immediacy and intimacy of that moment. Look to the woman with the eyes of a child. Look to the hooker through the eyes of a child and see what she sees. It is painful. Really. ìCome back here, you mother fucking PuntoÖ.Iíll smash your God-damned window in.î As tears come down her cheeks and a bruised is developing under her eye. Pure. What can I do? I pray. Does that work? I donít know. It is what I have. I share her tears.
Purity. Wholeness. Dirt. Blood. Tears. Sweat. Grief. Pain. Redemption.
Like the junkie on the corner, blistered and bleeding. Needing the sweet nectar that is holding him hostage. Seeing the world through the haze of an altered state. Feeling the heat of disease entering the vein. Loosing the last vestiages of whatever the last meal he ate. The pain. He is doing what he must to survive the moment. He is living in the now. It is us who must help him. Take him and clean him. It is us who must move to his now, see what he sees and show him the love.
If this is throwing the pearls to the swine (I know you were not saying that, Cliff, but to use a common metaphor) then I want nothing to do with it. I really believe that to bring the Kingdom to earth we must find the pureness of the downtrodden, accept that they are wise, and then share our love with them.
Grace and Peace
Posted by Justin at 2:43 PM
Monday, April 21, 2003
Friday, April 18, 2003
Lately Tripp and Cliff have seemed to be having some issues with their faith. Let us keep them in mind during our daily thoughts.
I have notice something these two have in common, though one is more a student of Eastern Orthodox, and the other is a Baptist seminarian in an Episcopolian school. The commonalty is that both of these friends are very intellecutal about things. Analytical. I understand that is the personalities we are dealing with here, and it has its place. But I think this, and I have said this before, intellictualism and over analysis can do more harm than good, as the analysis becomes what they are searching for...instead of letting the result arrive. I understand thier issues, they are what I have dealt with in theatre.
The state (Amenrican) theatre now has a lot to do with the overanalysis and intellectual mumbo-jumbo propogated duing the 1930's and the birth of the Strasberg method. (My ideas on his stuff is an entirely differnt post...) What has happened with so many American actors is that, a great number, have become so analytical that it has become an extremely self-concious effort. As an audience I don't want to watch a character think I want to see them do...that is besides the point...not what I am talking about. Anywho, from my own experience in acting, I know that my over analysis and over intellectualizing has caused my connection to the role to become flawed. I get so focused on the whys and hows and what ifs, that I loose the what. Does that make sense? The most pure moments I have had onstage have been those ... few ... times that every thing but the what has dissappeared.
I think by stopping...even for a moment...thinking about everything else, and just letting the what happen...Tripp and Cliff may have something. The analysis and all that other stuff is good...I am glad I know about Grotowski, Genet, et al, but they are not important in the what of now. There is a fear of veneurability that must be overcome. Believe me. The more open to letting the what happen, the more things seem to make sense. In fact by letting the what happen, all of the other things come together.
I hope my 2 cents help.
Posted by Justin at 3:03 PM
Wednesday, April 16, 2003
My aunt-in-law (is that a real thing?) just had an amazing past few days. She made her Metropolitan Opera DebutÖin a leading role. Christine Brewer is her name, and let me tell yaÖthe girl can wail!!!!
She sang at Josh and Sarahís weddingÖand was out of this world.
What makes her such a unique person is how she went about forming her carrer. Every opera singer dreams of performing at the Met. Well, Chris, started humbly in the chorus of the St. Louis OperaÖand it grew from there. She has never lost the small town girl in her. In fact she still lives in Lebanon, ILÖ(exactly, I have no clue where it isÖdown by St. Louis I am told).
The neatest part about the debut is that the received a standing ovation after her first aria (a very rare thing).
Posted by Justin at 2:52 PM
Wednesday, April 09, 2003
As a proud person of Irish ancestory all I can say is amen to what Colin Farrell said on msnbc.com:
I get in trouble now and then, and they tell me itís a bad thing, but we Irish boys like to go out and have a good [fuck], you know. And it can be during the week sometimes, and we still do the work, one hundred percent, to the best of our abilities, and our abilities are not diminished by the night before. Itís something thatís inbred, itís part of the [fucking] genes. So that cliche about the Irish is quite true.
Not that weíre a bunch of people that sit in a bar and talk to each other like a bunch of [fucking] morons ó itís not that. We are people who like to have a good time. We like to tell stories, and we like to talk to people. We are quite lyrical and emotional ó another cliche, I suppose. Weíve very proud. As a country and as a people, we want to be great. We donít necessarily need or have to be greater than anyone else. We donít even really concern ourselves with those silly competitions. We just want to be great ourselves.
I donít know what it is. But Iím very grateful I was born where I was born. Our literature, our music. Itís a small land, but itís a land thatís full of passion and full of storytelling and full of music and full of song and full of laughter. Iím so proud of being Irish. No man is an island unto himself, but Ireland is an island unlike any other, a great one to hail from.
Posted by Justin at 2:29 PM
The Joy of a Child
Kind of. Last night I went to WWE Smackdown tapings. Most of you know I am a mark for pro-wrestling. Anyway it was the first time since I was in jr. high that I have been to live matches. I totally forgot how much fun it was. It is like going to an old fashioned melodrama with an updated twist. You cheer the good guys and boo the bad guys. I have to say that these guys and gals are some of the most dedicated performers I know of. Not only do they beat the living hell out of their bodies (wrestling fake -- scripted, yes -fake! You take just 1 back bump on ply wood with carpet padding on it, and tell me how fake it is), but they go 100% the entire time they are out there.
Any way to the point. Memories flooded back while I was there. My dad would take my bro and I to the matched whenever the old WWF would come to town. It was a great bonding time. Three guys going nuts over Hulk Hogan, Rick Rude, Jake the Snake, Junk Yard Dog, That is what we did. Loose ourselves in the moment. That is what I love about last night. Dads with their kids, Moms, Grandpa and Grandma. Just having fun. I watched the matches like I did when I was a kidÖwith an ear to ear grin. Thanks Guys and Gals for a great night.
Last nightís show did something else to me. Like I said Dad took Josh and I to the matches. For those of you who donít know, my dad died about 4 Ω years ago from complications with diabetes. So when the memories flooded backÖI got a little teary. Dad was one of those people who, no matter what, could be counted on. For a double peg leg finger missin son of a gun, the guy could go. His determination and joy for life have made me who I am. Before he died he had been ill for the 5 or so years previousÖit got worse maybe 2 year before. But even through the tough times, Dad lived for today, and never bitched or moaned about his setbackÖ
He is the one who gave me my name. He used to be stationed in Key West, Fl while he was in the Navy. Well, in Key Largo there is a church he would go by called St. Justin, Martyr Catholic Church. He liked the name and so it was given. Ha.
For Dad -- love you and miss you, and say thank you. Oh yeah -- ìWatcha gonna do, [Daddy], when Hulkamaina runs wild on you?!î
Posted by Justin at 12:26 PM
Tuesday, April 08, 2003
Hotel Size Soap Box
Ok. I know I haven't blogged in a while, and you are sick of my rants. BUT, I saw this this morning...and now I share.
So, I was walking up Ontario after getting my morning sausage and egg and diet A&W, and lo and behold the little lady that is supposed to be up on Michigan Ave directing traffic pops up and starts writing a ticket to a car that is getting bags thrown in the trunk in front the Best Western. (wow! beautiful Steinbeckian run on!) Anywho, there is no standing on this section of Ontario in the morning, but I saw the car come around the corner...the wife of the driver was on the side walk with the bags...he stops and pops the trunk. 15 seconds later they are in the car while the little lady is writing a ticket...freakin absurd. Now, what promted me to write this morning is the fact that the little lady should be at Michigan Ave directing traffic. You see, while she was writing the ticket I look up the block and see cabs flying around corners about clipping several pedestrains. Ummmm....a car in the wrong place when there is no traffic on the street or cabs clipping pedestrains and cutting off cars? It irks me a little.
And don't get me started on cabs.
Posted by Justin at 8:41 AM