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A Play

Your Humble Blogger has been pseudonymous on the Internet for years and years, now. Actually, I’m only pseudo-pseudonymous—I would guess that 80% of Gentle Readers at this Tohu Bohu know my real name, and the rest could easily find it if they bothered themselves for some reason. It would not be difficult to take the stuff I am on about and put it into a search engine and come up with my name, my employer, my address, a satellite photo of my house and its valuation, pictures of my wife and kids, and probably my Social Security Number as well. Which is fine. I never intended my pseudonymity to completely insulate me from myself. My intention was, primarily, to prevent any potential employers from starting with my resume and coming up with this blog in ten seconds of research. Which may or may not still be true; if I were stalking myself I would find this Tohu Bohu pretty darned quickly. But it would be easy enough for somebody who was working with me or somebody who was considering working with me to go blithely on her merry way without being presented with my views of the politico-rhetorical landscape.

With this divide in mind, I don’t necessarily want people who are looking, f’r’ex, for information about a punk production of Richard III to wind up here rather than at the official page for the show. Not that it would be too terribly confusing, but it would be confusing enough. I don’t think of myself as using this blog specifically as a publicity vehicle (although, of course, y’all should come see me in shows, and y’all did come to R3 in tremendously flattering numbers) (and although when the show does have a blog as a publicity vehicle, I have cross-posted from here to there as seemed appropriate) (I’ve forgotten where I was before the first parenthetical remark) (Oh yes, this Tohu Bohu and its connection to my so-called proverbial), but I do find it interesting to write about the process.

So. I put it to y’all, Gentle Readers. Would it be terribly annoying and fey to pseudonymously talk about my next show without mentioning its title? It’s an adaptation of a famous novel, arguably the Great American novel (I use arguably here in the Alex Beam sense of course); if y’all haven’t actually read it or seen a film of it (with Demi Moore, Gary Oldman and Robert Duvall—or with Meg Foster, or with Colleen Moore, or with Lillian Gish, or with Sybil Thorndike, or with Mary Martin) you probably still know the basic idea. A woman in 1650s Boston bears a child that is not her husband’s; the child’s father is a secret until one day

I’m not altogether sure why I am so hesitant to write about it under it’s proper name. The adaptation is new, and GRs are unlikely to have read or seen it, or in fact to have access to it if they want to. Unless you can come to Greater Hartford between March 9 and March 20, that is.

Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,


Ah! The selection of the monologue from Coriolanus now seems a more purposeful choice. Did you get that part??

Ah, no. I will portray the Other Clergyman, the one with very few lines.


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