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Abandon all Hope Ye who Enter here

I've been thinking a lot lately about hope. It seems to me that it is always absent in my life, either due to my innate cynicism or the pressures of the outside world. It's hard to have hope when you're constantly in competition with yourself, and everyone else for that matter. It seems we forget about the goal and concentrate only on the means. There's a line that was cut out of The Good, the Bad and the Ugly that was subsequently used as an episode title for Weeds: "If you work for a living, why do you kill yourself working?" It's simple (and quirky) enough to describe my predicament. I wish I could just lay back, watch the world go by and do as I please for the rest of time, but it's never possible. Responsibilities set in with age, dictated by the society in which we live; we must work, we must make money, we must be independent by depending on others. It all seems so pedestrian.

And, in spite of this, I constantly feel as if I'm setting myself up for failure. Instead of pursuing some career that is reliable or stable I chose to go into intensely competitive fields that feed on rewarding the "best" and disregarding the "rest". Initially, I chose to participate in "art" because it was what made me happy. It makes enough sense: do what makes you happy and you'll be happy. Not true. Any personal gratification I acheived through expressing myself has been tainted. It's all about profit and showing someone up and proving to the rest of the world that you have something. Perhaps creativity should not be a business, but nevertheless it is. Why is success only attainable through money?

I feel hopeless. I wish I could just be.

The Red Menace.

Yesterday I bit the bullet I had been facing for so long and registered myself with the New York State Communist Party. Difficult as it was, when I returned home that evening I found a package containing a shirt I ordered almost a month ago: tomato red with the word "Communist" silk screened on the chest. Providence or Coincidence?

Now, apparently, I am a communist. Or, at least, as much as one can be in a free market society. But what does this mean? Most people I've told have reacted with horror as if I am going to be brought up before the House Un-American Activities Committee, but the whole ordeal was hardly as unnerving as I had originally planned for. Three individuals from the party have already contacted me, welcoming me and telling me they were there if I had any questions. In fact, I'm supposed to arrange a formal meeting with someone later this week. It all seems perfectly normal. I guess we'll see.

Uncivil Disobedience

THEATER REVIEW|'GOD OF CARNAGE'

“Children consume and fracture our lives. Children drag us towards disaster, it’s unavoidable.” Michael says in Yasmina Reza’s brilliant new comedy. “Brilliant” is a word I despise, repeated ad nauseum and usually applied to all the wrong things, but there is no other word to describe “God of Carnage”. It was unequivocally the best play I have seen all season, and, to be perfectly blunt, the first play since Kushner’s “Angels in America” that has restored my faith in the theatre. Acerbic, thought provoking, and hilarious, it is all that the theatre is meant to be, and comfortably capitulates to the New York sensibility Broadway should provide.

Originally a French play, produced numerous times in Europe (including one in London starring Janet McTeer and Ralph Fiennes), “Le Dieu de Carnage” as it is called, was translated by Christopher Hampton into English. It tells the story of two bourgeoisie couples who arrange to have a civil meeting after one of their children assaults the other with a stick on the playground. The slick set design offers a cold, modern space suspended in emotion. Bright red walls that stretch up into the sky are revealed when a large white curtain decorated with a child’s crayon-rendered family portrait rises. An oblique, stone wall is in the background. The stage is flanked by two perfect crystal vases filled with white tulips (from the Korean Deli up the street, direct from Holland, $40 for Fifty). Lead by an all-star cast (Marcia Gay Harden, James Gandolfini, Jeff Daniels and Hope Davis) the material is never allowed to rest. Discussions turn to arguments, arguments turn to violence, violence turns to despair all in one tense, Albeesque afternoon.

An obvious devolution occurs with each character (although perhaps not as much with Alan, who is a prick to begin with) and their carefully manicured facades crumble when confronted with the realities of existence. Ms. Harden and Mr. Gandolfini in particular deftly transform on stage as the play progresses. Matthew Warchus’s direction is absolutely splendid; the blocking is obviously very calculated and deliberate but appears effortless, and the special effects (namely projectile vomiting on the part of Ms. Davis, another nod to Albee) are well handled and natural.

As Ms. Reza’s words entertain, they simultaneously subvert societal mores, the role of parents, and the relationships we all have. Her play is fabulous. That’s all. Nothing more.

GOD OF CARNAGE
By Yasmina Reza; translated by Christopher Hampton; directed by Matthew Warchus; sets and costumes by Mark Thompson; lighting by Hugh Vanstone; music by Gary Yershon; sound by Simon Baker/Christopher Cronin; production stage manager, Jill Cordle; production manager, Aurora Productions; general manager, STP/David Turner. Presented by Robert Fox, David Pugh and Dafydd Rogers, Stuart Thompson, the Shubert Organization, Scott Rudin, Jon B. Platt and the Weinstein Company. At the Bernard Jacobs Theater, 242 West 45th Street, Manhattan; (212) 239-6200. Through July 19. Running time: 1 hour 30 minutes.

WITH: Jeff Daniels (Alan), Hope Davis (Annette), James Gandolfini (Michael) and Marcia Gay Harden (Veronica).

Day in the Life

Morning: Overslept exactly three minutes due to retiring at 2:30am after caring for nervous dog.

Commute: Late train. Arrive in New York at 9:15 for 9:10 class.

Breakfast: Coffee and cigarette.

Class: Art History; discover Courbet and his Realist Manifesto (read.)

Break: Cigarette.

Lunch: Free peanut granola bar from guy on 29th.

Recent purchases: Weeds Season 4 on DVD; Tony Kushner's "A Bright Room Called Day". Both great. Both overpriced.

What's to come: Bio in a medium-security classroom. Work in a medium-security Writing Studio. I hope no one comes in.

What still holds true: I enjoy New York. We'll see when that dissipates.