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violetstarcatcher · 7 months

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Invisible String P7

Chapter Seven - Heart Don't Fail Me Now

WC: 4,979k

Warnings: Yelling, fighting, angst, bullying, Jake is an ASSHOLE in this chapter, public embarrassment and bullying, SICKENING angsty fluff (I don't know if that's real, but it is now), kissing, 18+ MINORS BACK OFF.

Enjoy!

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"I think it's gonna rain tonight... You girls better bring some jackets." My mom told us as she stepped away from the window. The cloud cover had just gotten thicker as the afternoon went on, and it was fairly dark outside.

"We will, Ma." I nodded to my mother while trying to brush out a knot at the bottom of my hair. "I'm surprised you aren't in the basement with the boys, Gigi." I shrugged and bit my lip. I didn't want to be around them, if I'm being completely transparent. Mostly Josh.

I was still trying to process what had happened the other night at rehearsal. Ms. Mintz had pulled us aside after it ended and told us how 'magnificent' our performance had been. How 'real the tension felt' almost as if she could 'see it in the air.' Of course it felt real. It was real. Maybe only from one side, but it was definitely still there.

I hadn't interacted with Josh much since that night. I didn't how to. He seemed like he was fine and didn't think twice about what he'd done. I tried my best to not think about it. Josh was an actor and so was I, and the kiss, small as it was, was simply a spur of the moment improv idea he had.

"Okay Greta," My mother started saying from behind me. "You're being very uncharacteristically quiet and you've hardly talked to Josh for the last few days."

My heart thudded in my chest. Was I really that obvious? "I don't know what you're talking about." I lied, and swallowed harshly. For an actress, I'm a god-awful liar.

"What's wrong, honey?" She sat next to Ronnie on the bed. I turned away from the vanity mirror and all four of the girls were looking up at me, waiting expectantly. "Nothing's wrong, guys." I lied again and felt my face heat up. Damn it. "I really don't know what you're talking about."

Karen sighed and smiled over to my mom. "No, there's definitely something wrong." Alyssa stated. "You've been avoiding conversation with Josh like the plague."

I rolled my eyes and turned back to the mirror. "No I haven't. I don't know what you guys are going on about."

"Gigi..." Karen sighed again. "What happened?" I set the brush down on the vanity and took a deep breath. I wasn't going to get out of this. They were gonna find out eventually. I guess it would be better for them to find out now than to watch it happen during the play and not see it coming.

I put my hands over my face and took another deep breath. Just say it, Greta. "Josh kissed me two days ago." I said looking at the floor. Crickets. I rolled my eyes. This was going to be a fun talk.

Turning around, I was met with with eight wide eyes and four dropped jaws. "What?" I snapped. "You asked. I wasn't going to say anything but you had to know."

"Josh.... kissed you?" Ronnie asked, clearly still processing what that meant. "Yes. He did, okay?" I turned back to the mirror. "So I'm just... it's... weird for me right now."

"Did you... want him to kiss you?" Karen asked cautiously. "No... I mean..." I took another big breath. "He wasn't supposed to. And it was in front of a bunch of people and it wasn't rehearsed. So it really caught me off guard."

"Wait what?" Alyssa asked. "What do you mean a bunch of people?"

"It was during a scene we were rehearsing." I told her. "We'd gone over it so many times. All we were supposed to do was kinda lean in a little bit. But while we were dancing he pulled me a lot closer than he had every other time, and when he leaned in he actually kissed me."

"And that's so awful... why?" Ronnie smirked. "Because I'm not keen on kissing my best friend, Veronica. It was weird..." I said looking off into space. "It was extra weird, because..." I trailed off. "Because why?" My mom asked and I turned to face her. I groaned. "Because I forgot we were acting..." She slowly nodded her head and pressed her lips together, clearly trying to hide her smile. Ronnie stood up and walked over to me. She grabbed my shoulders and looked at me, grinning. "Do you have a crush on Josh, Gigi?"

I smacked her hands off. "Ew, Ronnie! No!" I laughed. "I do not like Josh. That's... weird."

"I dunno, Gigi..." Karen grinned up at me from where she sat braiding Alyssa's hair. "I don't think it'd be very weird at all."

"Aunt Karen, I do not like Josh like that." I laughed and Ronnie joined me. "If you did, we wouldn't be surprised honestly." Alyssa commented. "It wouldn't be a shock to find out all that 'Josh is Gigi's boyfriend' stuff went to your head."

Everyone giggled. "I don't know how you both put up with all that." Karen smiled. "Oh trust me, Josh does a way better job at handling it than I do." I laughed. "I get so tired of hearing people say Josh is my boyfriend. It's not like I walk around saying 'Oh my god, Joshua!'" I clapped my hands together and spun in a circle causing the room full of girls to laugh.

"I love you so much, Josh! I can never live without you! We're going to get married, and I'm going to have your babies, okay?!" I said in a high pitched sing song voice. Ronnie clapped her hand over her mouth and fell backwards on the bed onto my mom. Alyssa and Karen looked over to the doorway and burst out laughing.

I turned around and felt all the color drain from my face and my jaw go slack.

Jake.

We made a confused eye contact and stared at each other for a few moments. My cheeks got hot and I did my best to play it off by turning away from him and laughing towards the other girls.

Karen looked at her son's confused and unamused face and laughed even harder.

"I'm gonna... go get my date now, Mom." He said slowly, but never once looked away from me. He started walking away from the room. "Oh, Jake, come here hun." Karen said after wiping the tears from her eyes.

He peered his head back into the room and slowly made his way over to his mom. She reached for his hands and had him help her stand up. She chuckled as she brushed his shoulders to smooth out his suit jacket. "You look wonderful, honey."

I glanced over at Ronnie, who was facing the wall silently laughing into her hands. I breathed out a giggle, trying to stay quiet. My mother was looking down at her lap and biting her lip to hide a smile.

"Thanks mom." He spoke quietly, and raised his head to look around at us, finally coming to rest on me. "You all look nice." A blush rose to my cheeks. "Thanks, Jake... so do you." I said softly.

He smiled back and me and returned his gaze to the floor. "What time do you have to pick her up Jake?" Karen asked.

"Around 5, I think." He answered, looking up at his mom. "It's only 4:30, Jacob. Why are you trying to leave so early?"

"Josh is being absolutely unbearable downstairs."

I snorted. "Over his hair or what?"

"Not exactly..." he answered, looking anywhere but my face. "Hmm." My mom hummed.

"So, uh...." Jake awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. "Josh's babies, huh?"

Everyone burst out laughing. I slapped both of my hands over my face to cover up the redness in my cheek. So he had heard. "Oh my god." I laughed through my fingers. Ronnie fell into my mother's lap and she held her while they both laughed uncontrollably.

"What?" Jake asked innocently, chuckling. "It's a valid question! I come up here to see you prancing around and squealing about having my twin's babies! Which, by the way, is a little concerning!"

"It was a joke, Jake!" I laughed out, bending over at the waist. "Well, how am I supposed to know that?!" He walked over to me and pulled me closer to him by my arms. "I dunno, Jacob, maybe common sense?" I giggled, falling into his chest for a lazy hug.

"Okay, well why are you making jokes like that?" He asked. "That's kinda weird."

"Doesn't matter." I laughed against his bow tie. "It's 'cause Josh kissed Gigi." Alyssa blurted out. The circles Jake was rubbing my my back stopped suddenly and I felt his body tense up. I stepped away and he looked down at me, with a wide eyed expression. His gaze drifted around the room and the air grew thick once again. "What...?" He said as less of a question, more of a word to fill the awkward silence that had taken the space.

"Well, it wasn't really... anything." I whispered, afraid to look him in the eye. "Kissing my brother 'isn't anything?'" His comment oozed sarcasm as he crossed his arms. "W-well, I..."

"You what, Greta?" I sheepishly met his eyes and he raised his eyebrows. "Hmm?"

"It- it really wasn't anything, Jake. I-"

"Your first kiss Greta." His voice was starting to rise. I froze. "What?" I whispered. "Your first one. And with Josh? Seriously?" He took a step closer and I could feel the awkwardness radiating off of the others in the room.

"Jake, no you don't und-"

"That's so messed up Gigi, and you know why! So don't pretend like you don't!"

Oh.

"But Jake, that was a long time ago!" I rose my voice to defend myself. "It's not even like th-"

"Oh, so just because it was a long time ago suddenly means it doesn't matter anymore?!" He yelled waving his hands around.

"Well, kind of!" I shouted back, the heat in my face increasing. "Kind of?!"

"Yes, kind of! I was 10!" Jake turned to the door and put his face in his hands. All was quiet for a brief moment, other than his deep breathing. "You are unbelievable sometimes." He spoke out through his hands. "I don't even get why you're so worked up over it!" I told him throwing my hands in the air. "This is stupid."

He whipped around, his face bright red from yelling. "It's stupid?" He spoke quietly. "Do I need to remind you what we said 'when you were ten?'"

"No." I spoke quickly. The last thing I needed was Jake telling that story. "So you remember then?" I stared him in the eyes and swallowed harshly. His eyes bared into mine desperately searching for an answer. "Do you?" He asked again.

"Jake, this is dumb. I w-"

"Do you?!" He yelled. "Yes Jake! Oh my god, I remember now, okay?!"

"You forgot?!"

"Yes! I was ten! You expected me to remember that?!"

"You would have if you cared!" He shouted, taking three big strides in my direction until we were inches apart. "But clearly you don't..."

"Don't you have a date to go pick up, Jake?" I could feel the tears in my cheeks, but I refused to let them even water my eyes. "Don't you?" He spit. I opened my mouth to retaliate, but immediately closed it again, for the fear of uncontrollable angry tears. He took two small steps away from me, but never broke our eye contact. "Poor James." He scoffed. "First Josh, now him?" I furrowed my eyebrows, water finally pricking the surface of my eyes. "Jesus, Greta. You're not even in high school yet and you're already getting around."

That was all it took. The dam holding back the wall of tears suddenly broke in his last words. "Jacob Kiszka!" Karen finally stood from her spot on the bed. "What the hell is wrong with you?! She's fourteen!" She shouted at Jake. He stared at his mom for a moment before looking back to me back to me. When he saw my hurt expression, mouth agape and tears dripping from my chin to the floor, his face fell. My mom pulled me away from his line of sight and into a hug, but not before shooting him an ugly glare.

Jake and I have always fought a lot. We loved each other, but could have a screaming match like no one's business. Over the years everyone had learned to let us get it out of our system and not interfere. But neither have ever gone that far as to say something that hurtful.

"I can't believe you would say something like that to her!" Karen yelled. "Mom, I-"

"No, Jake, I don't wanna hear it! You just slut shamed your best friend! She's two years younger than you! I'd expect you to have a little more maturity than that! That was such a shitty thing to say to your friend Jacob, I-" I heard her take a deep breath. "I seriously can't believe you right now. I'm- so livid right now Jake, I could ground you for a year."

I lifted my hand to wipe my cheeks. "I don't want to be in here anymore, Mama." I sniffled. She leaned down to hear me better. "I'm- gonna go- find- find Josh." I said between sniffles and stifled cries. She hugged me tighter and smoothed the back of my hair. "Do you want help finding him?" She asked quietly and I shook my head. "Okay baby." She kissed the top of my head and stepped back. "Let me know if you need anything okay?"

"Okay..." I whispered. Turning around I realized Jake and Karen were in the hallway in the midst of a shouting match. I walked out passed them as Karen tried to push him through his own doorway and he fought against her.

"Gigi, I-" He tried to step towards me but Karen put her hand on the wall blocking his way. "You've done enough damage, young man." She spoke sternly. "Mom, please. I just need to-"

"No you don't. The last thing she wants is an apology from you." I hesitated when I reached the end of the hallway.

I shouldn't say anything. I should just let him sit in his shame. But I'm not. I'm gonna make him feel worse. He deserves it.

I lifted my hand, wiped my face, and cleared my throat. I breathed in deep though my nose and slowly turned to face him. He stopped fighting against his mom once we met eyes.

I stared at him, and him right back at me. A few seconds went by before I spoke. "It was for musical theater, asshole."

His mouth opened and closed. Then opened and closed again. "You know? Play acting?" I said with as much sarcasm as I possibly could muster up. He only stared back at me.

"I'd never do that." I spoke just loud enough for him to hear. "You know why?" He barely shook his head. "Because I didn't forget. And I did care. But guess what? After that... I don't anymore. And there's no way in hell you really do." And with that I turned and ran down the stairs as fast as I could.

I ran around the corner and grabbed for the handle on the basement door, but before I reached it, the door opened to reveal two boys.

I flinched as it opened towards me. Their smiles faded as they looked across my face, no doubt taking in my red eyes, blotchy cheeks, downturned lips, and running makeup.

"Gigi...?" Sam asked carefully, almost afraid if he spoke too loud he would break me. He stepped up the last stair to be on the same floor as me. "Are you o-" I didn't let him finish, as I quickly wrapped my arms around his waist.

As soon as I felt him hug me in return, the flood gates opened wide. Everything Jake had said sank into my consciousness in that moment and cut into me like little swords determined to let me bleed out just enough to hurt like hell, but not enough to die.

Sobs wracked through my body uncontrollably. Embarrassment, hurt, guilt... everything. All of it. All at once. Sam never said a word and I knew he wouldn't. A few minutes passed and when I didn't show any signs of slowing down Sam asked, "What happened, Gigi? Can we help?" I shook my head into his chest. "It- it was- was-" I tried to speak between involuntary sobs. "Shhhh, it's okay. Just try again." He said, gently rubbing my back.

"It was- it was- it-" I took a big breath in to try and calm my words. "It was- it was- Jake."

"What do you mean it was Jake?" He asked concern laced into his tone. "I don't k-"

"Gigi?" Josh came sprinting up the stairs. "Oh my god, Gigi, what the hell?" He gently pulled me away from Sam and held the back of my head to himself. "She said it was Jake." Sam told him.

It was then we all heard a door open upstairs and Karen still yelling at Jake. The door slammed shut and the shouting was now muffled from behind it.

"I'll kill him." Josh shook his head and pulled me away from him. "I'll be right back, okay?" He used both his thumbs to wipe my cheeks and turned to sprint up the stairs.

"I'm going with him." Sam said confidently and took off after his older brother. I watched them both run and tried to calm myself by sniffling a few times. I felt a hand on my shoulder and it turned me around. Danny pulled me into a hug by both of my shoulders.

"You good?" He asked. When I nodded my head he pulled away. A door opened upstairs and I heard Sam and Josh start yelling over each other, presumably at Jake. "Come on, I don't wanna listen to that." He said and nodded towards the basement.

We walked down and I sat on the little brown couch. Danny went right into the small bathroom and came out with a little pink bag. "This is yours right?" I only nodded.

"There's some makeup wipes in it I think. You can clean your face." He said tossing it over to me. I found the wipes I had left and tried to clean up the black under my eyes and down my cheeks. "How'd you know where this was?" I asked, sniffling as he sat down beside me.

"I saw you use it and put it away when we all stayed the night here once."

"I don't remember that." I laughed softly while wiping the underside of my eye. He smiled and looked down at his hands in his lap. Comfortable silence took the atmosphere while I cleaned my cheeks.

"What did Jake say?" Danny asked quietly. I looked up at him from zipping up the little pink bag. When I didn't answer he moved his eyes from his lap to my own eyes. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." He said defensively. "I just figured talking about it might make you feel better but if you don't think it will then we don't have to talk about it."

"I don't..." I breathed in deep and sighed. "I won't tell anyone anything if it makes a difference."

I shook my head. "I just... don't know, Danny. I-" He almost looked worried I was going to be mad at him for asking. I sighed again. "Not even Sam?" I asked quietly. He smiled softly and crossed his legs ready for everything he knew I was about to tell him. "Not even Sam."

I told him everything. About the joke, the kiss, the feelings towards said kiss, Jake's outburst over it, and even the story about why Jake would be mad about it in the first place. Josh didn't even know about that story.

But now Danny does. And shouldn't he? He asked, and I trust him. I think.

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Sobs wracked through my whole body, as I shivered under the pouring rain. I'd lost my phone somewhere in the middle school gym. Ronnie and Alyssa came up to me while I was dancing with James, asking if I was okay to stay without them there. I was actually having a really good time and I'd nearly forgotten about the whole ordeal with Jake besides the swollen nasal cavity and dull ache behind my eyes. So I said I was having good time and I would see them back at home, since we were all staying the night at the Kiszka's.

A few minutes had gone by with James stealing quick glances across the dance floor, going completely unknown to me. Until he suddenly pushed passed me, knocking me by the shoulder so hard I rammed into a girl that was dancing beside me. I turned around and was barely able to locate James through the crowd.

The bass of the music boomed through my ears as I tried to follow the back of James's head through the mass of people dancing. I managed to shove through the girls in poofy dresses and boys in polo shirts only to see James in a fight with a random boy. There was a girl I barely knew between them in a poor attempt to keep them apart.

"James stop!" I shouted, pulling on his arm that he only aggressively yanked out of my grip. "What are you doing?!"

He continued to yell nonsense at this boy and the girl had stopped pulling on them, and continued to cry; James's name nearly pathetically falling from her lips. Frustration filled my veins and I used all my bodyweight to pull on James's waist, which caused him to stumble backward. He whipped around to look at me, my mistake became obvious at the rage in his eyes. He stepped forward and pushed me with what felt like all of his force.

I tumbled a few steps and tripped on my feet, landing hard on the wooden gym floor. "Fucking stop already, Gigi!" He shouted at me. "God, I don't actually like you! I only asked you to this because... because Betty...." He took a deep breath in. "Because I needed to get Betty back, okay?!" My mouth dropped and a crowd of eyes had stopped dancing to stare. "I don't like you! At all! In fact, I don't think anyone could really like you like that except your stupid boyfriend Josh!"

I stood up quickly as tears swelled in my eyes. He turned back around to face the boy and Betty while ringing filled my ears. I spun around to look at everyone. Suddenly I was in a room of strangers and prying unsympathetic eyes. I sprinted towards the door and out into the rain, not bothering to grab any of my things.

I was not in the most ideal scenario. Walking alone at night in the pouring rain, freezing, scared, crying, far from home, and using every ounce of that day's energy to keep my feet moving one in front of the other.

A minute turned to ten turned to thirty walking in the rain. Mud squished between my toes and the sharp rocks poked my feet as I reached my front gate. The sound of tires drew my attention behind me and familiar truck headlights came into view. I shielded my eyes from the rain and light and waited as patiently as I could for whoever was driving up to me.

They slammed on the breaks causing the tires to slide in the mud and the truck came to a halt. The headlights turned off with the truck, the drivers side door opened and slammed and Josh came around the front. Relief filled my body and the second he touched me, my legs gave out.

I felt him lift me up from the ground and heard him kick the front gate open. I bounced roughly in his arms as he practically ran to my front door. He awkwardly fiddled with the door handle, cracked the door, and pushed it open the rest of the way with his back. He carefully maneuvered me into the house and kicked the door shut with his foot.

He brought me up to my room at the end of the hallway and gently sat me down on my bed. A headache had set itself in and tears still fell at their own will as I watched Josh quickly walk around my room, rummage through drawers, and pause to run his hand through his damp hair and take a deep breath every so often.

He came back into the room with a towel in hand, but instead of giving it to me he kneeled on the bed and took my wet hair in his hands and began drying it off. He dried my face and neck after my hair, set the towel down, and left the room again.

He came back with a makeup wipe and held my chin while he cleaned off the remainder that had managed to stay on my face. He took the wipe away and pulled me in to kiss my forehead. I fell wet drops fall onto my exposed leg where the dress had ridden up. Looking up, I realized Josh had tears of his own slowly falling down his cheeks as he held my face to his lips.

I pulled away to look him in the eye. "Josh, why-" He cut me off by holding my cheek and pressing his thumb to my lips. "Shhh, Gigi. Please don't say anything." He barely whispered. He leaned in and kissed my forehead again before moving down to my cheek. After wiping a few new tears that had fallen, he got up to go through my drawers again. This time he pulled out a pair of my sweatpants and one of my big pajama tee shirts. Kneeling on the bed behind me, he undid the button of my dress and pulled down the zipper. He held the sleeves of my dress as I pulled my arms out and helped me lift the whole thing over my head.

I didn't feel at all embarrassed or awkward being in only a bra and spandex shorts around Josh, opposite of what I thought would happen if he ever saw me like this. Part of me wondered if it was because I was just too exhausted physically and emotionally to even care anymore. He pulled my pajama shirt over my head and undid the clasp of my bra, waiting for me to pull my arms out of the straps before pulling it out from underneath the shirt and tossing it into the laundry basket.

After he got off the bed, he handed me the sweatpants and turned away to face the door. I took everything off and slid my legs into them. I stood from my bed and gently put my hand of Josh's shoulder. He turned around and looked down at me. Most of my tears had since dried, but his hadn't. They were in free fall. I reached up and pulled him into a hug around his neck, which he quickly returned. "Betty called me and told me what happened." He mumbled into my neck after a few moments. "She did?" I tried to pull away, but he only tightened his arms. "He's an asshole, Gigi." He sniffled. "Everyone loves you. So much. Not just me. I mean, I love you more than life but I know I'm not the only one."

"I know, Josh." I said softly. "Good." He nodded. "Was your night any better than mine?"

"Hannah's date was Jake." He mumbled. I pulled away to look at him. "W-what? But Jake knows that-"

"I know he knows." He sniffled and rubbed his eye with one hand. "He asked her anyway..." My mouth dropped. What the hell is Jake's issue? I thought, as I pulled Josh back into a hug. His body shook softly as he started to really cry. "And- and then I got- t-that call from B-Betty after I found out about Hannah and Jake and I tried to f-find you and I couldn't and I s-started to freak out b-because I w-was scared you got lost or something h-happened and I-" He started to ramble and his cries got harder as he tried to explain why he was so upset.

I pulled away from him to look him in the face. Something filled my body in an instant, and acting in what felt like instinct, I pulled him into me by the back of his neck and kissed him. He immediately pulled away from me and confusion and shocked riddled his eyes. "Gigi, I... I don't-" he stuttered. "I don't like you like that..." He barely spoke. "And you don't like me like that."

We looked at each other for a few moments trying to read the other. "I-" I started. "I know..." He nodded slowly and his eyes dropped down to my lips. I reached for his face again and this time he pulled me in by my shoulders and kissed me back. He moved his lips against mine quicker as he started to back us towards my bed.

The back of my knees hit the bed frame and I sat down. Josh moved me to lay my head back on my pillow and he hovered above me never once breaking the kiss. He moved his lips to the side of my mouth and down to my cheek before lifting his head to look down at me.

"I love you, Gigi." He whispered and tears filled my eyes again. "I love you." I whispered back. He lifted the blankets from the foot of my bed to cover us, and we slowly drifted into sleep wrapped in each others arms, and I was completely indifferent to the fact I'd just broken my promise to Jake.

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Teehee.

xoxo,

violet

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greenheartflowers · 10 months

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maximumcrownbeard · 1 year

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Gary Payton Weed Strain Review for Dummies

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theloniousbach · 2 years

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HANGING OUT AT SMALL’S LIVE #18: 15-19 AUGUST 2022

SOME PIANO/BASS/DRUMS TRIOS AT MEZZROW’S (mostly)

JOE FARNSWORTH with Emmet Cohen and Leighton Harrell, SMALL’S JAZZ CLUB, 15 AUGUST 2022

ROBERTA PIKET/HARVIE S/BILLY MINTZ, 18 AUGUST 2022

VICTOR GOULD with Tamil Shmerling and EJ Strickland, 6 AUGUST 2022

I saw the first two streams in real time and was struck by comparisons—within the form but also JOE FARNSWORTH with Emmet Cohen this week under the drummer’s leadership with the week before under bassist Rodney Whittaker’s leadership and the HARVIE S/BILLY MINTZ partnership with ROBERTA PIKET rather than Alan Broadbent. VICTOR GOULD is part of the Black Jazz Art Collective which has a 2018 show that has been featured in the Small’s Live Archive for a long time. I will listen to this all-star lineup in relation to a Smoke Stream of the Heavy HItters. Gould’s latest album sounded rich in a preview. So I added him to the mix.

While Emmet Cohen gets my vote as the under 35 upper and coming pianist, he couldn’t quite stand up to JOE FARNSWORTH’s atypical self-indulgence. He is a goofy uncle type but also a master of both technique and taste. As this show, a tribute to Leroy Williams who took him under his wing 30+ years ago, articulated what I sensed about Farnsworth’s respect for the traditions but also a paying back to the community by getting gigs for younger players (here) and veterans. With Whittaker the week before, he and Cohen dug into Ellingtonia. This time around they honored Williams with two Cedar Walton tunes, two by Barry Harris, and the Junior Cook/Bill Hardman arrangement of Walkin’. Nothing wrong with the material which surveyed blues, Latin, a ballad, and two bop/hard bop swingers. Cohen was fluid and inventive and young Harrell shows promise and their leader supported them well. But he soloed on the first two tunes for too long and that just threw things out of balance. But I’ve come to respect Farnsworth way too much to give up on him.

The Alan Broadbent Trio is a can’t miss stream and, as capable as Don Falzone is as a fill in, they’re at full steam with HARVIE S on the bass. Their book are some rescued jazz compositions (Hank Mobley’s This I Dig of You, Lee Morgan’s Ceora), underplayed standards, som Charlie Parker. There’s Broadbent’s elegance and BILLY MINTZ’s spare Zen-ness, but Harvie S is both melodic and propulsive. They are far from tame. To hear them with ROBERTA PIKET was illuminating in at least a couple of ways. They, particularly Mintz, opened the throttle some and maybe that was for the second reason, that they are all, but particularly Mintz, appealing composers. They have a new release that features three tunes by each and they played eight of them. Mintz’s Billy’s Bop took those conventions seriously but complicated the line nicely; Flight was first subtly tuneful and then a hard swinger; and his Beautiful You was big and lush. Similarly romantic was Harvie S’s tribute to his wife Yuki’s Song. He also has the title cut of their disc, You’ve Been Warned which they all sing on, but PIket is the real singer. Her A History was for Richie Beirach and Dave Liebman is both appropriately intericate but not jarring while Master Plan had some The Bad Plus angularity before opening up. She did an interesting end of the year date with Jeong Lim Yaw and Luciana Ardmore under the name Sorceress that grew on me. She continues to.

VICTOR GOULD is another younger but seasoned player. He is sparer than Cohen but also has a rich touch. HIs tunes are appealing and have a reverence. Sir [Ron] Carter was both brooding and spiky; Dear Ralph [Peterson] began thoughtfully before opening into a nice swing. That would have been the tune of the night, but the one cover was Buster Williams’ Christina which dug into the powerful melody while breathing. Blue Lotus was more compositional with a compelling intricacy and the one unnamed tune started with Tamil Shmerling’s sinuous bass line syncing up with Gould’s left hand. EJ Strickland was often too loud in the mix and they all had moments of parallel play/tangentiality. Here though he was three-dimensional in a way that worked. Live they weren’t quite as compelling as In Our Time but that made such a good first impression that it and this band has caught my ears.

So context matters—for a veteran rhythm section supporting another pianist, for a working band, for some players beginning a collaboration. That’s as it should be for this very much in the moment music.

#concert review #jazz #couch tour #almost couch tour #2022 #small’s live #small’s jazz club #mezzrow’s

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dclegalmedicine · 2 years

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mostly-functional · 3 years

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His name used to be Brent Mintz. I’m only ever calling him Breath Mints from now on

#star trek tng #star trek #data star trek #data soong #star trek the next generation #brent spiner

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thedisasterracers · 2 years

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Are there nicknames for everyone?

Vanellope: Yep, for me it’s van, vanny, princess (I personally hate that one.) president, booger face (Ralph calls me that.) glitch, and Nelly (rancis calls me that one.)

Taffyta: Mine it’s taff, taffy, strawberry head, and lollipop monster cuz I lick too many lollipops that Gloyd decided to call me that. Curse you.

Candlehead: I know the nicknames I have is which is candles, can, sticker kid, flamethrower, Cupcake (Gloyd calls me that he’s so sweet.) and finally the cute arsonist because I caused too many fires over the past few years…

Rancis: I have my fair share of nicknames it would have to be Ran, choco boy, Butterfingers, Rancid (I hate this one with a passion.) and finally rancy (Vanellope calls me by that but I dislike how the boys use it when they are supposed to not do that.)

Gloyd: Mines are definitely the best out of all of y’all, ok mine are G, sticker face, (Candles put stickers in my face and I don’t mind.) Prankster, face ache (Torvald calls me that.) the jokester, Pumpkin, (Candlehead calls me by it and it’s very creative in my opinion.) candy stealer, and finally candy corn face.

Swizzle: You guys can guess mines but imma spare you for now it’s mainly the swizz, the big s, Flirty dude, Best wingman, and Swizzy. (Jubi calls me by that sometimes.)

Crumbelina: Surprisingly enough I do have enough nicknames to go off by but the ones that are most commonly known which is crumbs, Lina, tiramisu, the cookie dancer, Cookie Monster (idk who made that up but probably Gloyd.) and crumbly.

Minty: Mod these are overused but I got my fair share of mine, Mint, mintz, minty breath, STG, (“stronger than goku” it’s a joke me and my friends make) leaf face, Green fighter, then there’s Minty Ziki… (I spelled my name wrong ONE TIME and swizzle thought it was funny to make it as a joke.)

Adorabeezle: The ones I have is adora, breezy, ice pop, Wholesome child, axe wielder, and the best cutesy twin sister (Nougetsia calls me by it.)

Snowanna: It’s shown that mine are cool cuz it’s snow, Anna, snowy, Snowflake, Ice anna, and my favorite of them all is freezy hands because me, adora, and nougetsia have cold hands and when someone touches it, they feel cold.

Jubileena: I got some good zingers here which is Jubi, jubilee, cherry face, pie lover, Cherry pie, cherry bomber, Abrazador de cereza alegre, (It’s in Spanish.) red head, and the last one is sleepy red.

Citrusella: Of course the ones I have is pretty weird I can explain it, there’s Blue head, Cit, Ella, berry face, Ojos de arándano, (Thats also in Spanish.) The big rude blueberry aka TBRB, (I can be rude sometimes.) Blue moon, (I stay up at night.) and I saved the best of the best and it’s the blue basher

Torvald: There are too much to name but I’ll call out the ones that fit me, batterbutter, Tors, Butterscotch lover, and then there’s my favorite and most chill one it’s Big chill sis.

Nougetsia: I have only a few and it’s nouget, sia, yogurt fan, Mochi face and brumblebee.

Sticky: Oh this is good I think the only nicknames I have is Stick, sticks, bubblegum, Best bubbly girlfriend, (Nouget calls me by it she’s very cute.) and the last one is Wips…

Sakura: I have a few it’s cherry blossom, saks, sakka,(It was Gloyd who called me that.) and finally I have the best of the best nicknames which is The flash swordsmen because I do have swords that can be dangerous and are not dull like other swords would be.

#ask #wir

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thecoleopterawithana · 4 years

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The Walrus

I Am The Walrus (1967): I am he as you are he as you are me / And we are all together [...] / I am the egg man / They are the egg men / I am the walrus

Glass Onion (1968): I told you about the walrus and me, man / You know we're as close as can be, man / Well here's another clue for you all / The walrus was Paul

God (1970): I don't believe in Beatles / I just believe in me / Yoko and me / And that's reality | The dream is over / What can I say? / The dream is over / Yesterday / I was the Dreamweaver / But now I'm reborn / I was the Walrus / But now I'm John

(Just Like) Starting Over [Take 2] (1980): Every day we used to make it, love / So why can’t we be making love, it’s easy / The time has come, the Walrus said, / For you and me to stay in bed again / It’ll be just like starting over

[T]hrowing in the line “the Walrus was Paul” just to confuse everybody a bit more. And because I felt slightly guilty because I’d got Yoko, and he’d got nothing, and I was gonna quit. [laughs; bleak] And so I thought ‘Walrus’ has now become [in] meaning, “I am the one.” It didn’t mean that in the song, originally. It just meant I’m the – it could have been I’m the – “I’m The Fox Terrier,” you know. I mean, it’s just a bit of poetry.

— John Lennon, interviewed by David Sheff for Playboy (August 1980).

We saw the movie in LA, and the Walrus was a big capitalist that ate all the fucking oysters. I always had the image of the Walrus in the garden and I loved it, and so I didn't ever check what the Walrus was. He's a fucking bastard - that's what he turns out to be. But the way it's written, everybody presumes that means something. I mean, even I did. We all just presumed that because I said 'I am the Walrus' that it must mean 'I am God' or something. It's just poetry, but it became symbolic of me.

— John Lennon (1970), in The Beatles’ Anthology (2000).

The camera work [in Let It Be] was set-up to show Paul and not anybody else. And that’s how I felt about it. On top of that, the people that cut it, did it as if Paul is God and we are just lyin’ around there. And that’s what I felt.

— John Lennon, interviewed by Jann Wenner for The Rolling Stone (December 1970).

The Walrus and The Carpenter. Alice in Wonderland. And it was only years later that I went back to check what [it meant] – because I never went into that bit about what Lewis Carroll really meant, you know, like people are doing with The Beatles’ work, or anybody’s work. All that digging into— Lewis Carroll was commenting on the capitalist and socialist system at the time, with the walrus and the carpenter representing, uh, social positions. It had never dawned on me, anything like that. To me, it was just a beautiful poem.

And then I looked back, after ‘I Am The Walrus’, and people had gone into all this depth about what it really means and all that. It just meant nothing, you know. It was just an image. Just like asking – it’s like asking [Federico] Fellini, “What does that image two-thirds of the way through Juliet of the Spirits mean?” It doesn’t mean anything without the rest of it. You can isolate a frame and talk about it forever, but it’s just a game. So then I – but I did look back at ‘Walrus’ and realize – oh. I said, “I am the walrus,” but the carpenter’s the good guy in that story, apparently. I should have said, “I am the carpenter,” but it doesn’t make sense. “I am the carpenter.”

— John Lennon, interviewed by David Sheff for Playboy (August 1980).

‘You like poetry?’

‘Ye-es, pretty well—some poetry,’ Alice said doubtfully. ‘Would you tell me which road leads out of the wood?’ ‘What shall I repeat to her?’ said Tweedledee, looking round at Tweedledum with great solemn eyes, and not noticing Alice’s question. ‘“The Walrus and the Carpenter” is the longest,’ Tweedledum replied, giving his brother an affectionate hug. Tweedledee began instantly: ‘The sun was shining—’ Here Alice ventured to interrupt him. ‘If it’s very long,’ she said, as politely as she could, ‘would you please tell me first which road—’ Tweedledee smiled gently, and began again:

‘The sun was shining on the sea, Shining with all his might: He did his very best to make The billows smooth and bright— And this was odd, because it was The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily, Because she thought the sun Had got no business to be there After the day was done— “It’s very rude of him,” she said, “To come and spoil the fun!”

The sea was wet as wet could be, The sands were dry as dry. You could not see a cloud, because No cloud was in the sky: No birds were flying over head— There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter Were walking close at hand; They wept like anything to see Such quantities of sand: “If this were only cleared away,” They said, “it would be grand!”

“If seven maids with seven mops Swept it for half a year, Do you suppose,” the Walrus said, “That they could get it clear?” “I doubt it,” said the Carpenter, And shed a bitter tear.

“O Oysters, come and walk with us!” The Walrus did beseech. “A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk, Along the briny beach: We cannot do with more than four, To give a hand to each.”

The eldest Oyster looked at him. But never a word he said: The eldest Oyster winked his eye, And shook his heavy head— Meaning to say he did not choose To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young oysters hurried up, All eager for the treat: Their coats were brushed, their faces washed, Their shoes were clean and neat— And this was odd, because, you know, They hadn’t any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them, And yet another four; And thick and fast they came at last, And more, and more, and more— All hopping through the frothy waves, And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter Walked on a mile or so, And then they rested on a rock Conveniently low: And all the little Oysters stood And waited in a row.

“The time has come,” the Walrus said, “To talk of many things: Of shoes—and ships—and sealing-wax— Of cabbages—and kings— And why the sea is boiling hot— And whether pigs have wings.”

“But wait a bit,” the Oysters cried, “Before we have our chat; For some of us are out of breath, And all of us are fat!” “No hurry!” said the Carpenter. They thanked him much for that.

“A loaf of bread,” the Walrus said, “Is what we chiefly need: Pepper and vinegar besides Are very good indeed— Now if you’re ready Oysters dear, We can begin to feed.”

“But not on us!” the Oysters cried, Turning a little blue, “After such kindness, that would be A dismal thing to do!” “The night is fine,” the Walrus said “Do you admire the view?

“It was so kind of you to come! And you are very nice!” The Carpenter said nothing but “Cut us another slice: I wish you were not quite so deaf— I’ve had to ask you twice!”

“It seems a shame,” the Walrus said, “To play them such a trick, After we’ve brought them out so far, And made them trot so quick!” The Carpenter said nothing but “The butter’s spread too thick!”

“I weep for you,” the Walrus said. “I deeply sympathize.” With sobs and tears he sorted out Those of the largest size. Holding his pocket handkerchief Before his streaming eyes.

“O Oysters,” said the Carpenter. “You’ve had a pleasant run! Shall we be trotting home again?” But answer came there none— And that was scarcely odd, because They’d eaten every one.’

‘I like the Walrus best,’ said Alice: ‘because you see he was a little sorry for the poor oysters.’ ‘He ate more than the Carpenter, though,’ said Tweedledee. ‘You see he held his handkerchief in front, so that the Carpenter couldn’t count how many he took: contrariwise.’ ‘That was mean!’ Alice said indignantly. ‘Then I like the Carpenter best—if he didn’t eat so many as the Walrus.’ ‘But he ate as many as he could get,’ said Tweedledum. This was a puzzler. After a pause, Alice began, ‘Well! They were both very unpleasant characters’

— in Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There (1871).

Bonus:

He and Yoko came round to Cavendish Avenue and John and I went out into the garden for half an hour, because there were a couple of things he needed me to finish up, but it was his song, his idea, and he worked on the arrangement with George Martin. It was a particularly good arrangement, I think. It was a nice song of John's. We had a fun moment when we were working on the bit, 'I've got news for you all, the walrus was Paul.' Because, although we'd never planned it, people read into our songs and little legends grew up about every item of so-called significance, so on this occasion we decided to plant one.

What John meant was that in Magical Mystery Tour, when we came to do the costumes on 'I Am the Walrus', it happened to be me in the walrus costume. It was not significant at all, but it was a nice little twist to the legend that we threw in.

— Paul McCartney, in Barry Miles’ Many Years From Now (1997).

'Walrus' is just saying a dream - the words don't mean a lot. People draw so many conclusions and it's ridiculous.

— John Lennon (1969), in The Beatles’ Anthology (2000).

[T]he Red Queen said to Alice. ‘Always speak the truth—think before you speak—and write it down afterwards.’

‘I’m sure I didn’t mean—’ Alice was beginning, but the Red Queen interrupted her impatiently.

‘That’s just what I complain of! You should have meant! What do you suppose is the use of child without any meaning? Even a joke should have some meaning—and a child’s more important than a joke, I hope. You couldn’t deny that, even if you tried with both hands.’

— in Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There (1871).

[P]eople’s expressions and feelings come out in their work whether they want it to or not. So I always express myself directly, or [in the] language of the streets, and other people don’t.

— John Lennon, interview with DJ Elliot Mintz (16 April 1973).

I think everything that comes out of the songs – even Paul’s songs now, which are apparently about nothing – the same way as calligraphy shows and your handwriting shows you everything about yourself. Or [Bob] Dylan too. Dylan might try to hide in a subterfuge of clever, Allen Ginsberg-type words, or hippie words, but it was always apparent, if you look below the surface, what is being said. Resentfulness, or love, or hate. And it’s apparent in all work. It’s just harder to see when it’s… written in gobbledy-gook.

— John Lennon, interviewed by David Sheff for Playboy (August 1980).

For more on the theme of merged identities, broken dreams and fallen idols: I Just Believe In Me | John’s Disillusionment

For more on meaning in songs: The Surrealist

For more Lewis Carroll

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dangerouscommiesubversive · 4 years

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M for Wataru, any classic music piece

M is for music, and today’s piece is Paganini’s Caprice No. 24 in A Minor. This is a fairly well-known solo violin piece, and so there are a lot of versions of it available. You can listen to one I like by Shlomo Mintz on Spotify or YouTube, or watch a video of Hilary Hahn performing it here--there are some wonderful close-ups of what her hands are doing. You can also read about it, and see a list of other pieces inspired by it, on Wikipedia.

The composer, Niccolò Paganini, lived from 1782 to 1840, and was rumored to have sold his soul to the Devil in exchange for his extraordinary musical abilities. This is unlikely, but he was able to perform some impressive feats of violin playing, mainly due to his unusually long fingers.

Megumi stares at him for a moment, looking entirely baffled, before saying, “Did you just say you’re making a YouTube channel?”

“Yes.” Wataru doesn’t look up at her, too focused on the delicate shaping of the peg he’s making. “To teach people how to play and care for violins. It was Shizuka’s idea.”

“Do...I hate to ask this, really, but do you even own a computer?”

He still doesn’t look up, but she can see him smiling slightly over his work. “Not yet. Taiga is going to go shopping with me this weekend, for a computer and an appropriate camera. He knows what to look for.”

She eyes him dubiously. “Well, if you’re sure. Hell, maybe it’ll be good for you.”

Two weeks later, Shizuka sets up the camera on a tripod and adjusts it until Wataru is centered in the frame, and then flashes him a thumbs-up. “Ok, we’re all set. What are you going to show first?” She quietly hits the Record button--she can edit things out later, but Wataru never smiles when he’s playing, it’d be nice to have a little footage of him smiling.

“Well, I’d been thinking of demonstrating how to tune a violin, but Taiga suggested that I perform something first, to establish my credentials.”

“That sounds like a good idea, what are you going to perform? That one of your dad’s?”

“Maybe another time. I was thinking something more attention-getting.”

“Well, we’re rolling, whenever you’re ready.”

He flashes her a brief, sweet smile, and then returns to calm solemnity and bows to the camera. “Good afternoon, everyone. My name is Kurenai Wataru, and this is Paganini’s Caprice Number Twenty-Four, in A minor. I hope you enjoy it.”

A week after that, Megumi drops by Wataru’s house after a shoot to find Shizuka, Taiga, and--shockingly, since she’s almost never out of her rooms--Maya, already there, gathered around Wataru as he sits at his new computer. She stops in the doorway, surprised. “Is there a party I didn’t know about?”

Taiga waves to her. “I got away from the company a bit early. Shizuka uploaded Wataru’s first video a couple of days ago, we’re going to take a look and see how it’s doing.”

Wataru takes a deep breath. “I’m not sure that I want to know.”

“Look, it’ll be fine, just click on--oh, wow, that’s a lot of views.”

Megumi skips past the view count and directly to the comments. The top one says, [Look at that SMILE, this guy is so CUTE]

Beneath that, [how do his hands move so fast]

[I wanna know what *else* his hands do]

[did a bird seriously land on the scroll of the violin at the end there, is this guy some kind of Disney prince]

[what a BABE]

[ngl I know like two words of Japanese but I’m seriously considering moving now]

[never mind his hands look at that ASS]

Shizuka is staring at the screen with narrowed eyes, and Megumi reaches over and gently puts a hand over her mouth just as she starts to say, “Maybe this was a--”

“Congratulations, my son,” Maya says, in her quiet, amused voice. “You’re very popular. Maybe that grandson will be coming along sooner rather than later.”

Wataru turns bright red. “Mother, please.”

#kurenai wataru #asou megumi #nomura shizuka #nobori taiga #maya #fanfiction #askrikkaiandhyotei

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gbhbl · 7 years

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Horror Movie Review - Death Pool (2017)

Horror Movie Review – Death Pool (2017)

Death Pool, also known as The Valley Drowner, is a serial killer movie telling the story of Johnny Taylor. Johnny has a big problem: he LOVES to drown good-looking girls. When he sees water and attractive females together, something in his head begs him to kill – the psychological result of a traumatic near-drowning during his childhood at the hands of a twisted babysitter.

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johnroycomic · 4 years

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Free Comedy Class Week Four - Revised

Comedy Class Week Four

It's me again. You've spent a week making other people listen to you talk, so now It's my turn to do it to you.

Last week I had you watch videos by Patton Oswalt, Jay Larson, and Dan Mintz.

Patton Oswalt’s “KFC Bowls” clip was there to show you how you might play multiple characters in the same bit, yet make it clear who is speaking at all times. I wanted you to see just how many tactics you have to use to make each character have a clear, distincit, discernible emotional point of view. If you don’t do this effectively, really pounding in who is speaking at every moment, a bit like this will be impossible for the audience to follow. They won't know who is talking, and they'll lose track of what the conflict is.

The Jay Larson example is there to pound home the same lesson, now with multiple people talking and not just two.

The Dan Mintz video is there to show another dead-pan comedian, like Anthony Jeselnick last week. I wanted you to see that this approach doesn’t mean that Dan’s stage character doesn’t have any emotional point of view at all. He’s not a joke telling robot. Rather, Dan approaches each joke with a mixture of slight confusion and insecurity. It IS an emotional stance, just not one that changes depending on the sentence, as it does with Jay or Patton. I wanted you to see how this point of view is a careful choice for the act, not just a default “no emotion" setting.

I also wanted to show how some of the laughs Dan gets aren’t simply from the cleverness of his writing, but from the disconnect between what his character is saying, and the odd way he seems to feel about it.

Anyway, enough about comedians who aren't you. Let's talk about your progress. You've made it four weeks. A month of standup! Congratulations, you are almost to ten sets! This is a meaningless landmark that gets you nothing, but it’s cool, isn’t it? I hope your third week went as well as it possibly could, given the endless ever-changing obstacle course that is Open Mic comedy.

Hopefully, by now, at least one of your jokes has worked more than once.

Which of your jokes is working most consistently? Why do you think that is? Can you identify any elements detailed in the last three weeks’ lessons in your most consistently successful joke?

If none of your jokes has worked to your satisfaction yet, don’t worry. Keep going through the steps I laid out last week, and eventually you will shape a joke that hits more often than not.

While we’re on the subject, here, in easy to copy bullet point form, is the Comedy Refinement Process I've been going on about, which we will further refine this week:

Write down the most consistently successful jokes from last week.

Ask yourself : Do any possible performance-based improvements jump out, like a body motion, facial expression, or change in vocal emphasis?

Would it benefit from cutting needless words in the set up? How about substituting more colorful language?

Is there room to clarify how you feel about what you are saying?

If none of these apply, put these jokes at the top of this week’s set list.

What less-consistent joke from last week do you have ideas on how to improve? Change it, keeping in mind these questions:

Is it clear what you are saying?

Is it clear how you feel about what you are saying?

Is there a clear expectation set up for the listener?

Is there a surprising fulfillment of that expectation?

After making all applicable adjustments, write that joke next on your list.

Fill the rest of your set with new ideas from this week. Form them into the best jokes you can, keeping in mind the above points.

Arrange these jokes into a Shit Sandwich, with the most successful two jokes at the top, another consistent joke to close, and the most untried material in the middle of your set. Do this until you have all the jokes you need to fill the amount of time you will be performing.

And that, in as few words as possible, is the Comedy Refinement Process. It is an always-dependable tool for the construction of a standup comedy act.

“WAIT!” you might want to yell at this point, “If I keep repeating last week’s jokes, eventually all the jokes will be successful, and then there won’t be any room in my set to work on new stuff!”

Good point. At some point you will need to “graduate” consistently successful jokes from the Process, and make room for new ones. It would be my fondest wish for you to not have to do that until you have five awesome minutes. I would love it if you got to take a week-long victory lap through the Open Mics where your set was “all killer no filler.” Unfortunately, and this may already be evident, when you do the same Open Mics over and over again, people hear your material over and over again too. It starts to lose power, as it is no longer surprising to most of the room. There is no hard and fast rule for when this has happened. You’ve got to feel it out. If a joke that once did very well starts to do poorly in the same rooms, and you look out and recognize some of the faces from other nights you've told the joke? It’s time to move it out of your Open Mic setlist. It will go into a new file that I will tell you about shortly. It’s also time to celebrate, because you now have your first solid bit! Your first go-to joke. The first piece of what will become your “showcase set.”

Assignment One

Create a computer file. Notepad will suffice, but you may want to use a better word processor as you're going to want to move these words around a lot. You could use an old-school paper and pen notebook for this task, but it will have to be revised constantly. I definitely recommend a physical notebook for day to day notes and setlists. It's compact, tactile, it doesn't run out of power, and the act of writing long-hand helps your thoughts stick in your long term memory. However, the document I'm about to describe is one area where digital is better. If you want to do this long hand, you better like rewriting things.

Call this file whatever you want. When I started, I called it the “Massive Bit List.” This was ironic at first, but I watched with pride as it slowly became accurate. Divide the file into three groups.

Write down “Group One” first. These are your best jokes. As always, character lines and story beats go here as well, if you are doing those on stage instead of standard jokes. Group One is the pool of material you would draw from to make a “showcase set.” This just means a set you would do for real audience members who are not comedians on a real comedy show. These are the jokes you would choose to perform in order to give yourself the best chance of doing well. A showcase show at a bar or an off-night at a comedy club is your next most likely venue. Performing at such a show is the first goal of a beginner comic.

Don’t write out each entire joke. Whatever one or two-word phrase you know that bit by will suffice. Make sure Group One really is just your best jokes. These are bits that don’t need to be done at Open Mics unless you really want to open or close strong. If you feel in your gut that a bit still needs work, or has a shaky part in it, don’t put it here. If a joke needs work but you feel you can’t do it at an Open Mic anymore because the other comics and patrons have heard it too much, just rest it for a month. Then bring it back. Don’t worry. They won’t remember it any more than you remember their shit from last month. You will have a fresh chance to fix whatever you felt it lacked.

However, just because a joke gets to Group One doesn’t mean it’s “finished.” Standup comedy is a living breathing medium. Bits are always yours to change or expand. As long as you still enjoy a joke, you can add things, find new lines, new act-outs, and new angles to explore. We are not writing a script. Never think of your old material as set in stone. Comedy is nothing but a series of moments that we inhabit, and any bit has the potential to grow and change with your overall act.

Now write down “Group Two.” In this space, write down whatever jokes you have that are getting laughs here and there, but still need some work at the Open Mic level before you would trust them on a showcase show.

Finally, write down “Group Three.” This is your “in the shop” file, where bits go when they aren’t working in their current form. These are bits you need to put aside for awhile until you gain a new insight that makes them work. I have had things in Group Three for years and then one new thought fixes them. Don’t throw anything away.

This bit file sticks with you your entire career. In addition to helping you remember all of the jokes you will write in the years you spend doing this, it’s a great way of seeing where you are in comedy at a glance. You can see what works; what doesn’t; what themes seem to resonate with audiences; what topics you may have difficulty with. So many insights can be gained just seeing your material laid out in one place. Watching it grow and watching Group One fill up with material is a rewarding way to see tangible evidence of your progress as a comedian.

Your goal at this point should be to fill up Group One until you have a solid five minutes of comedy. This is the smallest building block of a standup performance. It is the least amount of time you would ever be asked to perform on a show. It is the standard length of a guest set at a professional comedy club. It is also the approximate length of a standup set on a late night TV show. Five minutes is to a comedian what one song is to a musician. You need to get that first single ready to perform.

This can take a while. Don’t rush it. Let the Process work. Take time with each new joke and make sure it is ready. Make sure a Group One joke is one you are confident about doing in front of any crowd, with a reasonable expectation of success.

As you progress in comedy, you will often be asked by bookers of shows and clubs, “How much time you have?”

This does not mean, “If you performed every bit of material you have written in a row, how long would that take?”

This means “How many minutes of Group One jokes do you have?” You will be doing yourself and your reputation as a comedian a favor by being as hard on yourself as possible when answering this question. The booker is trying to judge how much of their show they can reliably entrust to you. Be honest and they will be pleased with the result and likely to book you again. Inflate that estimate, and you will look like a fraud, a rank amateur, or a crazy person. You want to cultivate the reputation of someone who does what they say they are going to do. A comic they don’t have to worry about. A comic who gets the job done.

Assignment Two

Make your set list for this week’s Open Mics, exactly as you have been doing. Get used to the Process until it becomes second nature.

Assignment Three.

Watch Kyle Kinane's World's Largest Pizza bit. You will find it on the following video, from the 4:30 second mark on. If this link is now dead, google “Kyle Kinane Big Mama's and Papa's Pizza,” or “Kyle Kinane Acme.”

http://youtu.be/WoeQybA7gqM

Then watch Jim Gaffigan break down Hot Pockets. You can find the bit here. If this link has died, Googling “Gaffigan Hot Pockets” will pull it up from somewhere.

http://youtu.be/N-i9GXbptog

I did not select these bits because they are both about food, but because they are both long sets about the same premise. Long chunks with tons of individual jokes in them. This may not be a coincidence. Food is a juicy comedy topic: you need it to live, yet you eat too much of the wrong food and you die. You eat food every day, and it fuels the entire world economy. Food is on people’s minds a lot. People feel strongly about it. Whenever those things are present in a topic, it has the potential for great bits.

After asking our good old “Giraldo Questions” from week one, ask yourself these:

How many individual jokes can you identify in Jim Gaffigan’s set?

How many individual jokes can you identify in Kyle Kinane’s?

Express each individual joke as a simple declarative sentence.

Express each comedian's entire piece as a simple declarative sentence.

How does Jim feel about Hot Pockets? How does Kyle feel about the giant pizza? How do they feel about each individual sub-topic under the larger premise? How do they communicate these feelings to the audience?

Do this, and don’t read ahead to the next paragraph until you have answered all of the questions.

Notice how there is an expectation that is set and a surprise delivered on each piece of the larger bit. Notice how each individual joke under the larger premises of “Hot Pockets are disgusting” and “this giant pizza is a ridiculous example of American excess” has its own individual premise, such as “Hot Pockets would be ludicrous on a menu” or “someone who wanted extra cheese even though it was thirty bucks would be a dick.”

Look at your own writing. Have you tried to tackle a large subject on which you had a lot to say? This is how you do it. Look at your joke and ask the exact same questions you just answered about the videos. What is the over-arching premise? What are the individual premises? How do I feel about each one? You have to begin, and then complete, each individual joke one after the other. You have to clearly state each point of what you are saying.

If you don’t do this exactly as carefully as Kyle and Jim did, the audience can get lost and confused and the bit can fail. Each point must also be funny in its own right or it should be cut from the piece. You are a comic. You do not have the luxury of making points that aren’t funny, even if they are part of a larger piece. If it is going to stay in the bit, find a way to get a laugh.

Perhaps, when you are an experienced comic, you will create a one-person show that contains stories or parts of stories that are serious, that are not expected to get laughs. That is a task for when you have mastered the basics of comedy writing and are ready to stretch the medium. Right now, assume that every component of your show must make the audience laugh or it has no place in your act.

Maybe, like Anthony Jeselnik and Dan Mintz from previous lessons, you don’t write in large chunks. If so, just use this week as further practice in identifying premises, expectations, surprises, and emotional angles. You can never do too much of this as you begin to write your own material.

If you do write or care to write large multi-joke bits, use these videos as a blueprint.

Ask yourself:

What is my main point?

What individual points am I making to illustrate this main point?

Is each one distinct enough to get their own joke?

Do I have a way to make each point funny with an expectation and a surprise?

Do I wrap up each bit in its own space within the larger piece, allowing the audience to keep up and digest each individual point?

That’s it for this week! Hit the mics! Kill ‘em! See you here next week.

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