Deep Thoughts May 2024

 

    If your parents make you go to school on the last day, hang out upstairs with the obnoxious business teacher who bellows "Wrecking Ball" and plays music at a thousand decibels. Your parents will think you care about school because you showed up.

    When you get up in the morning, take off your pajama pants and let the dogs out. Step outside with them to feel the morning air. Wave at your early rising neighbor. Act like you're wearing pants. Do some yoga stretches, really air yourself out.

    The one thing all mountain towns need --adding to their kayak businesses, and zip lines, and cute Pharmacy Soda Shops, consignment stores, breweries for the tourists, local dive bar for the locals, pizza joints, river rafting, ski shops, bookstores(all small mountain towns have a bookstore), off beat guitar/music shop--is a Victoria's Secret. That's what women want, and it'd really class up the place.

       When your dryer breaks, hanging your clothes in front of a fan works well.

       Instead of rows of bubbles on standardized tests, they should be structured in groups. That way, you can bubble in a cute Christmas tree or a bear when you have no idea what the answer is. They should leave room in the margins for you to write "I cannot answer this question, there is a bear in the way." That would give those SAT graders a good laugh. They need it.

     Make detailed lists of everything  you need to accomplish in a week. Read it over. Become exhausted and return to bed. The list will be there tomorrow.

    I was in a play once, and the director called me over. I knew he was cutting me from the show. I said "I'm cut, aren't I?" and he said "You were never cast. You just keep showing up and walking through scenes saying 'That's not how I heard it'". I told him I was  trying to fix the way Sam Shepard had clearly miswritten his play. He had the stage manager escort me to the stage door, and I heard it lock behind me. But I will be back tomorrow disguised as an orange tabby cat. They'll never see me sneak in.

     The way to solve the current teaching crisis---which includes, but is not limited to: lack of substitute teachers, young teachers who burn out quickly, older teachers who are experts but not listened to---is to universally bully all teachers into a "My Way Or The Highway" approach that gives them more work and ignores the needs of the student body. Then give them M&M's with the school logo on them for a reward. The data shows that will definitely make everyone want to stay in the profession, and your building. You will be the winner!

    The best way to paint your room, is to choose a color, close your eyes and imagine it painted in that color. If you keep  your eyes closed, you don't have to go to the trouble of painting.

    The purpose of education has been lost. If you take the word apart, it breaks into ED UCA TION. Which is the central problem, nobody knows what that means. Ed is a guy you met at a bar. UCA is an acronym for whatever you choose. TION forms the action of a noun; so Ed from the University of Cat Action is in charge of schools. See the problem?

Fall 2023 innna nutshell

 

    Trying to think around the bug in a jar analogy.

    All high schools should have All Of The Things. At Littleton those things made me batty. There were only a handful of kids who truly engaged in extra curriculars, and we all fought over them. I don't care how many students are enrolled in a building, not everyone wants to join a club. The solution isn't to add more clubs so everyone feels involved. All that does is stress out the kids who already do theatre, choir, newspaper, yearbook, FBLA and swimming because you've now added sewing club. Now the poor kid is robbing Peter to pay Paul and can't .commit to any club fully, and is actually more stressed out an unable to give 100% to any of the clubs they have joined.

    What this has to do with a bug in a jar is a mystery, I started writing this in the fall and it's now May, and I have no clue what I was talking about. 

    Huh.

Proof That My Life Is Absurd

    I wrote this last year.

    Nothing has changed,  unless you count getting worse as change. 

    Nothing happens, nobody comes. Nobody cares. And I can't scream about it any more. ---23May 2024

 29 April 2023

    "April is the cruelest month". Teachers know this best. As I claw my way toward the light of a May pole, I am taking a moment here to reflect. 

    I saw MJ  on Broadway, twice, and I will not be fielding your hate. Your opinions on the man are irrelevant to my process.  Myles Frost, who won a Tony for the role, embodies Michael Jackson in a stunning, pounding tribute to a problematic man without addressing the problems.  If you turn the music up loudly enough, you can cover anything. Frost screams into the void, as Michael Jackson did in videos and on stage. A lot, apparently, according to a google search I just did. Seeing this moment triggered something in my head. It was familiar. I am not a void screamer, in fact, I'm pretty quiet. Sitting in The Neil Simon theatre, which used to be the Nederlander, which I know because it says "Nederlander" on the cup containing the beer(s) I consumed during the show and what was my point...I sat there weirdly feeling targeted by the scream. In a silly statement that will make you giggle, I suddenly understood the pain of someone who cannot escape their life.

    Like Oedipus.  who I imagine screamed like this when he stupidly figured out after So Many People had tried to tell him, that he is married to his mom. I imagine Jocasta let out a similar roar upon her own realization. It comes with the territory of human struggle, right? During Covid in Colorado there was the eight o'clock howl, which in a sense was a universal shout to release the tension of the lockdown. I enjoyed the howl quite a bit, and never really put together the cathartic release it held.

    I am again trapped in an almost identical situation at work that I was five years ago, and I can't write about it, which is how I howl. I can't keep having the same conversations with colleagues; that's true absurdism as we rehash and worry about something beyond our control--no big deal, just our futures---but nothing happens, nobody comes. And so, this eternal shriek has emerged in my head. It goes beyond Munch's blood red sky panic attack. I can't even release sound. It's just in my head. I close my eyes and my head bellows at deaf heaven. Silly human, troubling deaf heaven with my bootless cries. Again.

    Or still.

    Whichever.

    The Eternal Shriek in The Good Place is how they retire demons. Their essence is scooped out and flung to a thousand suns where it burns forever.

    This is how I feel. I am in the eternal shriek. My essence was scooped out years ago, and flung about to burn in perpetuity throughout an uncaring universe. So I scream in my head. A lot.

    So. 

    I got that going for me. Which is good.

    

Square State Ruminations 2 November 2023

 

    EDIT I started these  in October, only to discover in December that someone else has been doing it better, and creating memes with waterfalls. I don't know how to make memes, but I'm posting these anyway.

       The EMERGENCY EMAIL ALERT reads:  RECALL Ham, pet food and eye drops. Is this a riddle? What do these items have in common that would cause a recall? I have so many questions...

      Today is a day I want to leave my badge and keys on my desk, load my David Bowie and Carrie Fischer posters into my car and move to Delta, Colorado and work from home.

     "Never give up, never surrender" is bullshit. Give up. Go home. Nobody cares. 

    There are no remaining practitioners of common sense left in any  professions run by those who have chosen to give up common sense out of fear, or in pursuit of money or power. I recommend that everyone still possessing this endangered trait move to a remote mountain town and run it properly. Cut off all contact with the rest of the loonies and live your life. Live our lives. As I count myself as one of the dying breed of Common Sense Practitioners

   Sometimes you sit down to write a thought that you believe will sound funny when read out loud. Then you realize that writing it made it real, and the reality is that you are depressed. 

   Shakespeare died at 52. He was an old man.

   The broken education system has weaponized educators' kindness, rendering us unable to fight for our own rights. We cannot stand up for better pay or argue against insane edicts because we will be perceived as selfish people who are harming the students we teach.

How Hamlet Should Have Ended.

 How Hamlet Should Have Ended

Hamlet is watching Claudius pray.

        HAMLET

 

 Now might I do it ⟨pat,⟩ now he is a-praying,

 And now I’ll do ’t.

He draws his sword.

 And so he goes to heaven,

 And so am I ⟨revenged.⟩ That would be scanned:

 A villain kills my father, and for that,

 I, his sole son, do this same villain send

 To heaven.

 Why, this is ⟨hire⟩ and ⟨salary,⟩ not revenge.

 He took my father grossly, full of bread,

 With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May;

 And how his audit stands who knows save heaven.

 But in our circumstance and course of thought

 ’Tis heavy with him. And am I then revenged

 To take him in the purging of his soul,

 When he is fit and seasoned for his passage?

 No.

 Up sword, and know thou a more horrid hent.

      He sheathes his sword.⌝

    Hamlet crosses to Claudius

    CLAUDIUS

, ⌜rising⌝ 

 My words fly up, my thoughts remain below;

 Words without thoughts never to heaven go.

Surprised

Hamlet, my son.

    HAMLET

And neither will your soul rise to heaven

You murderous incestuous canker.

(stabbing him in the chest)

That’s for my dad

(punching him in the eye)

Stop calling me “son”.

(kicks him in the crotch)

And that’s for my mom.

Die You Gravy Sucking Pig.

As he stabs Claudius freely and chants in Iambic pentameter:

Stabby stab stab McStabber STAB Stabb-ED.

Drops knife by the body.

They’ll never know who did it. It’s genius!

He was praying! DNA isn’t a thing!

Now to find fair Ophelia and save her.

EXIT HAMLET

END PLAY

 

Kitty Corner: A Short Play

                                    

Genoa was relocating, and we had her cats for a few months. This is a short play about how that went.

                                         Kitty Corner

        By kryssi martin

23 May 2024

Sock,a tortoise shell cat,is cowering in a drawer. Cecil, a cream colored male cat is perched above her, staring her down. Easily staged with two levels using a barstool as CECIL’S perch and a pillow on stage as the “ drawer”. There is a heating pad farther SR on a “bed”.

SOCK is crouched in the drawer. CECIL stares for two beats, then without expression,reaches down and swats at her head. She hisses.

SOCK

Dude, you don’t live here. Get out.

CECIL

I can’t, they left me.

SOCK

I can see why; you’re rude.

CECIL

It’s not permanent, they are moving. 

SOCK

    Moving sounds permanent.

CECIL

They left me here to keep me safe and out of the way while they move.

SOCK

So they can live happily without you.

CECIL

So they can come back and fetch me once they’ve moved.

SOCK

                            What if they left you?

CECIL

Why would you say that?

SOCK

How do you think I got here, genius?

CECIL

Somebody left you here?

SOCK

No, they left me outside. They called me “feral” when I was found. After The Nice Family brought me here, I killed a lot of birds. A Lot. And bunnies. Beheaded them. I left them on the patio for the fox. We had an arrangement.

CECIL

(Cecil looks disgusted) I’ve never been left. They’ve been my owners since I can remember. (he licks his  paws) I try to get out but they always catch me.

SOCK

Ya, I’ve seen that. You don’t run fast enough. Or far enough. You just toddle out a few feet and then roll over to be scratched. That’s not being outside and free.

CECIL

You live in a drawer, what do you know?

SOCK

I don’t live in this drawer, twat, this is my house I live in the whole house. Beat. You clearly do not really want to be free. You’re happy being catered to:Indoor Cat, cared for, Fresh Pet fed spoiled. Leaving would mean fending for yourself. You can’t do that.

CECIL

And you’re all bad ass in your drawer.You don’t know me.

SOCK

I lived my life. I had adventures.Sometimes I was hungry. Sometimes I had to beat up a raccoon. Once a car almost got me. I came here and they gave me shelter but let me be free and I got fed. I am grateful.

CECIL

You’re an old, sad coward in a drawer.

SOCK

             There’s a whole house you can be roaming.

CECIL

I’m bored. I wanna talk to someone. 

SOCK

You can’t be alone,either? Won’t go outside, won’t leave others alone, can’t be alone…

CECIL

My  human doesn’t let me outside because they love me and want to keep me safe.

SOCK

Friend, your human is related to my human. Your human was raised with me. She lived with me- an indoor/outdoor cat.

CECIL

“They”.

SOCK

(Rolls her eyes)“They” know outside cats can thrive and love and rejoice, and indoor cats who were outdoor cats are quiet and happy. They’re ruining your life by limiting your experiences to indoors. 

CECIL

They’re just careful and loving.

SOCK

They were given decapitated bunnies for many years because they cannot take care of themselves. They are incompetent and you are codependent. 

CECIL

That’s rude and you are  disgusting.

SOCK

That’s being a cat. Beat. Are you even  grateful?

CECIL

        For what?

SOCK

Your fancy fresh food, your owners who want to keep you safe while they move, who keep you inside -which has crippled your social skills…

CECIL

It’s their job to take care of me. I didn’t ask to be born. I didn’t ask them to choose me, so I    expect to be cared for. I deserve it.

SOCK

You’re a jerk. At least I won’t always be in this drawer. Beat. “But you’ll always be a jerk….”

CECIL

I think I heard my owners read that off of a coffee cup.

SOCK

Meow.

CECIL

 Drawer coward. Look, what are you talking about “grateful”? We’re cats. We only need humans to open our food. We are notoriously ungrateful.

SOCK

So it appears, yes. It’s a cultivated attitude. But we don’t mean it. Humans expect us to be  haughty until we want to be pet or snuggled. We have an agreement,but we are grateful for them and they are grateful for us.

CECIL

 Who cares? They feed me. I knock stuff over. Why do I need to understand anything?And why won’t you get out of that drawer?

SOCK

 Every time I try to come out you swat at me.

CECIL

Well that’s not such tough “I killed birds” behavior.

SOCK

I’m a hundred years old, kid. I earned that spot on the bed. You’re interfering with my very          comfortable elder years.

CECIL

I just want to talk to you. You keep hissing at me.

SOCK

‘Cause you keep swatting at me and trying to get in my drawer and you aren’t talking, you’re attacking. 

CECIL

I don’t want in your drawers…sshisssssssmrf.

SOCK

        Hilarious.

CECIL

It’s rude not to share.

SOCK

It’s my drawer. Bugger off.

CECIL

We share in our house.

SOCK

Well you’re not in your house, kid. You’ve been left here. Probably 

forever. I bet you ‘ll never see them again.

CECIL

(Swats at Sock) Stop staying that.

                                        SOCK

Stop swatting at me, ass hat (spits and hisses).

CECIL

I just want to know what’s so great about that drawer.

SOCK

It’s my drawer. She cleaned it out after I hid in here when you arrived. What’s great is that it’s 

       mine.  

CECIL

Does it have a heater?

SOCK

  No.

CECIL

Then why is it so great?

SOCK

Because it’s mine (she hisses and spits).

CECIL

That  heating pad on the bed is nice. That yours too?

SOCK

Why are you like this? You know it’s mine. You’ve been blocking my path most of the day. I just want to cross to my heating pad from the drawer and you keep swatting at me.

CECIL

I’m playing, Boomer, don’t you know how to play?

SOCK

Did you not hear about the dead birds?That’s how I play.

CECIL

Look, lady, I’m bigger than you. I can kick your butt right out of there.

SOCK

Try it (she flexes her claws). I’ll send you to sleep with all those birds.

CECIL

Cecil jumps into the drawer. She slashes his nose and he jumps out

SOCK

Do not underestimate the elderly, son.

CECIL

Ow, that was rude.

SOCK

No, that was defensive. You’re trying to take my drawer.

CECIL

Shessh, just share. What’s the big deal?

SOCK

  The big deal is that it’s my drawer.

CECIL

We share at our house.

SOCK

    You already said that, imbecile. 

CECIL

(swats at her) There is no need to call me names.

SOCK

We call each other names in our house.

CECIL

I like the spot on the bed, too. It’s warm, maybe I’ll go back over there.

SOCK

That’s my heating pad. They bought it for my old bones. You’ll get your stupid fur all over it.

                            CECIL

So get out of the drawer and go lay on the heating pad. 

SOCK

    Glares at him.

CECIL

All you have to do is get past me.

Sock slashes his nose and jumps out of  the drawer headed for the bed. He chases her                             and she turns back to the drawer. He resumes his perch above.

CECIL

Wow. That was lame.

   He walks to the bed and snuggles onto the heating pad. 

So you want your heating pad and the drawer? Doesn’t that make you an                      

                                                   Overhoused Senior?

SOCK

Meow.

CECIL

I see why you like this,(he wiggles his butt into the heating pad make snuggle purrring sounds)     

            but it’s too hot for me.

(Hops down, saunters back to perch over the drawer. Sock seizes the opportunity to bolt to her heating pad. Cecil doesn't try to stop her, he wants the drawer.)

CECIL

        I won.

SOCK

         Sure, whatever you need to believe. 

CECIL

Meow.

SOCK

  Hiss.

CECIL

  Try not to die on that heating pad.

         SOCK

            Try not to pee in the drawer.

           SCENE