Braddy Reads The Great Gatsby

As a student of literature, I'm a bit of a poser. Remember, English has always been my favorite subject. I was in the advanced placement English and literature programs all through junior high and high school. I MAJORED in English in college. And yet here I am, 28 years old, and I've just now finished The Great Gatsby for the first time.

Put away your pitchforks, though, and just listen a minute.

Even though F. Scott Fitzgerald's most well-known book is a staple of high school English programs and has been probably since it was written, I never had the opportunity to read The Great Gatsby. That said, I've long been familiar with the plot of the book. In college I took a course on literary theory that applied several different schools of analysis to the plot of Gatsby, the one book they assumed everyone had read. So I was very familiar already, not only with the plot of the book, but with what everything means.

Tangentially, I remember from the class that there's totally an argument to be made for every character in The Great Gatsby being gay, but I think it really just boils down to how manly Jordan dresses and the fact that Nick at one point says Gatsby's clothes are "gorgeous."

The opening chapters to The Great Gatsby are some of the most beautifully-written passages I've ever encountered. Fitzgerald knows how to turn a phrase - the guy's an excellent writer. I missed a lot of the well-crafted prose as the plot drove on, but maybe I was getting too wrapped up in the plot to pay attention to it. Fitzgerald's got a good ear for dialog, too. His attempts to mimic accents and dialects (à la Mark Twain) is a bit painful, but, otherwise, the dialog sounds real, believable.

Oh, and the final sentence of the book? "So we beat on, boats against the current, born back ceaselessly into the past." That's darn good stuff.

As a condemnation of its era, The Great Gatsby works brilliantly. Contemporary authors can find a lot to like in the writing style, which is fluid, clear, and effortless. I imagine a lot of the themes are difficult for high school kids to relate to - themes about trying (and failing) to recapture the past don't have a lot of resonance with people who don't have much of a past to capture.

Plus, now that I've read Gatsby, these comics make a lot more sense.

Cooking with Braddy: Indian Chicken and Spinach Curry

Ten years ago, there was no chance I'd EVER try a dish called "Indian Chicken and Spinach Curry."

Heck, FIVE years ago, I'd probably not have touched it.

Yet here we are. It's 2012, and not only did I TRY a dish called "Indian Chicken and Spinach Curry," not only did I MAKE a dish called "Indian Chicken and Spinach Curry," but I really LIKED it, too.

Who's come a long way now, Virginia?

I picked this recipe out of the Mighty Spice Cookbook because I already had a couple of the ingredients. Spices are fun to cook with, but they're EXPENSIVE. Luckily, I still had some leftover garam masala, so the only spices I needed to pick up were cumin and ginger.

I wound up leaving the cream out of the recipe - it's obviously healthier without it, and, well, I apparently don't quite have a pan big enought for everything.

That's BEFORE I even added the chicken and the spinach. So you can see that space was an issue.

Preparing the spinach for this recipe is probably one of the strangest things I've ever done. First I had to boil the spinach in water until it looked wilted. Then I blended it (with some of the leftover spinach water) until it looked like a... well, a nasty green spinach smoothie. Wish I'd taken a picture of it.

I'm going to have to call the recipe a complete success. The curry is a pretty mild one, but still delicious. This is probably my favorite recipe I've attempted thus far.

Well... I guess the aftermath left something to be desired.

Why I'm Still Single 44

Braddy's Theatrical History

Well, Friday night saw the opening of Blithe Spirit out at the Empress Theatre, and the show has been a TON of FUN. Recently I've gotten a bit nostalgic for all the theatrical work I've done over the years. After all, there's nothing like a show opening to get you to look back at shows past.

So, here it is: Braddy's complete theatrical history. Enjoy!

1992 - Second Grade Pageant

Our musical pageant followed the adventures of Bill and Ted through American history, because someone thought that the best source material for a children's show would be an 80's stoner flick. I played President Eisenhower. And that's how my seven-year-old self knew more about American History than I do as an adult.

1996 - Shakespeare and Greek Tragedy

I loved my sixth grade teacher, but there's a pretty high probability that she was insane. We actually did two different plays that year: Antigone a Greek tragedy about a woman who gives her brother a proper burial after he dishoners the tyrant king, and Hamlet, a play about Mel Gibson being sad. I actually played the evil monarch/unrighteous king in both productions. Braddy's first experience with typecasting.

1997 - Oklahoma!

I've mentioned this before, I think, but I have no idea why on earth I auditioned for the school muscial back in eighth grade. Whatever the reasoning, Oklahoma! is what got me into singing. But my musical history is a different matter entirely.

I nearly nabbed the part of Judd, but lost out to someone with actual muscle mass. I wound up playing the part of Matt, a character who had a name despite having no lines, no special blocking, and no actual mention in the script outside of the character list. Strange...

1998 - Kiss Me, Kate

I must have enjoyed Oklahoma!, because I auditioned for the show the next year. I played an extra, but this time, I didn't even have a character name. What a rip-off!

I tend to use "Another Op'nin', Another Show" and "Where is the Life that Late I Led?" as audition pieces for musicals nowadays.

2000 - Li'l Abner

I think Li'l Abner is criminally underperformed. It's a great show - definitely dated in its sensibilities, but entertaining. I spent most of my stage time standing behind a cardboard cutout of a body builder, because the best thing for my self-esteem at the tender age of 15 was another reminder that I was just too skinny to be a real man.

2001 - Once Upon a Mattress

I've never had a costume that embarassed me more - a tunic that was basically just a short dress (and was see-thru under stage lights) and tights. Thankfully, I had so many good friends in the production, like a dance partner who repeatedly called me a b@$%@^^@%. Good times.

2002 - Anne of Green Gables

This show is terrible. Seriously, just terrible. The main love ballad, "Wonderin'," contains the line "And we laughed like parrots/When I called her 'Carrots.'" Also, the Act 1 finale, arguably the big show-stopper, is a bouncy little number called "Ice Cream" as lackluster as it is bland.

Anne of Green Gables is also the only show I've ever received financial compensation for.

2008 - Seven Brides for Seven Brothers

I thought I was done with theater. Then I was asked to audition for this show right after I graduated from college. I've been doing theater fairly irregularly ever since. Seven Brides had the most demanding choreography of any show I've ever participated in, and I loved it - except for the time I set my partner down on my big clumsy foot and sprained her ankle (sorry, Skye!).

Seven Brides nearly took the prize for worst costuming with the blanket they draped over me like a toga. The director took one look at my pale, knobby shoulder and said, "Actually, let's cover that up." So I wore a blanket dress.

2009 - Taming of the Shrew

Braddy's inability to emulate a convincing accent was on fine display during this Western adaptation of a Shakespearean classic. As, too, was his inability to play a romantic role.

2009 - One Act Play Festival

In years past, the Empress Theatre has participated in a program wherein high school students submit a self-written one-act play for consideration. Winners get to see their play performed on stage. I participated in a little show called "Thinking Out Loud," wherein a socially awkward young man goes on a date with a girl way out of his league. I played the boy's thoughts. It was pretty awesome.

2009 - Arsenic and Old Lace

2009 was a busy year for me. Three shows (and an ongoing stint with The Jesters Royale) just about ate up my whole life. I ended the year on a high note, though. Arsenic was one of the best theatrical experiences I had - manic and fun. I played Mortimer Brewster, a theater critic who over-analyzes everything. So, basically, I was myself on stage, except I parted my hair a little differently.

2010 - Damn Yankees

This play is terrible.

The production was actually a bit troubled - we weren't fully cast until about two weeks before we opened, and one of our most prominent dancers quit during the run of the show. Thank goodness I made a bunch of friends in the cast. Otherwise, this would have been a complete waste of time.

***

And that brings us to...

2012 - Blithe Spirit

I'm not going to lie - I've never been prouder of a show than I am of this one. I (and the rest of a very talented cast) put a lot of work into an incredibly wordy but HILARIOUS production. I've never played a role I've enjoyed more than Charles Condomine, a clever but lazy and abdominally selfish author.

Also, I get to drink a lot on stage.

Blithe Spirit runs every Monday, Friday, and Saturday from now until May 26 at the Empress Theatre. You should probably come see it.

Blog Comments Make Me a Better Man

The usual metrics for popularity don't seem to apply online. In real life, popularity is simply measured by the number of friends you have. Online, sheer volume of friends actually makes no difference, seeing as how most people who "friend" you on Facebook probably wouldn't recognize you if you ran into them in the mall while wearing a T-shirt with your high school yearbook photo on it. No, the REAL measure of online popularity is the number of comments or posts you're able to accrue.

I just got a little more popular on my blog last night. I picked up two new comments, and that makes me the queen of this particular Homecoming parade. I thought I'd share the comments with you.

The first comes from an anonymous commenter on my review of the book Bossypants. The comment came in response to my statement below:

As a young man, a single adult who comes from a family of all boys and has no experience with women outside of watching a few episodes of Jem, I got a kick out of reading that. It matches how I feel about thing - I'm not actually sexist, I'm just ignorant. While that's not exactly an ideal state of being, at least ignorance is treatable.

Here's what my sweet little Anonymous commenter had to say:

Actually...you are just sexist. But how adorable that you think you aren't because you are completely stupid about the opposite sex.

Well, yeah... Anonymous is probably right. I've got a long and well-documented history of being sexist, so I might as well just cop to it. Thanks, Anonymous! I appreciate your candor and honesty.

ADD: So my friend Heather, who's been posting some very insightful thoughts of feminism on her own, has commented on my post here (you can read her response below). I just want to say that I appreciate her opinion and am very glad she chose to express herself to me. If my comments have offended anyone, I do apologize.

The anonymous poster was a bit of a jerk, yeah, but that doesn't mean they were WRONG. I fully admit that I have some backwards attitudes and can say some pretty thoughtless things at times. I appreciate getting called out on stuff. Just, you know, be nice about it.

Okay, all passive-aggressive sarcasm aside, I did get a pretty nifty comment from someone who'd never commented on my blog before. This comment comes from my snarky little post on the Fantagraphics Mickey Mouse comic reprints:

Glad we're converting you to the real Mickey Mouse, S. R. Thanks to some more piecemeal late '70s reprints, Gottfredson's Mickey is the Mickey I cut my teeth on as a kid. It's a labor of love to keep him circulating. While I could never call him a scoundrel (I only count three cartoons where he pushes Minnie too far—and this never happens in the comics), he's quite the adventurous and defiant little squirt, isn't he? Collecting the supplementary material that goes in the books is an adventure itself! (Hope you're following our Facebook page... that's where we put the overflow.) Re: sad racial stuff: Disney Publishing allows us to run the strips unabridged because we're aiming the books at adults, and have extensive text putting that content in context. Luckily, most of what's left is timeless—and that's just how I like it. —David Gerstein (Series Editor)

I'm a little flattered that the guy putting these books together actually took the time to post such an enthusiastic response to what was mainly just a big sarcastic rant. This guy is totally classy.

One thing I forgot to mention in my original post on the Gottfredson comics (probably because I was more interested in posting a pic of Mickey Mouse in blackface than I was at giving a balanced review) is that the books are full of insightful commentary on the period in which the comics were written. I probably love the commentary about as much as the comics themselves - things always make more sense in context. So thanks to Mr. Gerstein for doing such an excellent job on this wonderful collection.

Ico - The Best Video Game Ever?

I haven't had much time to play video games for a long time now, what with one thing and another, so I don't really talk about them much. That, and talking about how many hours you logged last night doesn't seem to impress too many people. Except, surprisingly enough, if you're talking about Angry Birds, which... whatever.

But, seriously guys, Ico is one of the best darn games I've ever played, one of the first games I'd ever point out to Roger Ebert and say, "THIS is art!"

Ico is actually pretty old news - the game's over ten years old now. It got a new lease on life when it was re-issued as part of an HD upgrade collection for the PS3. I'd heard a lot of the hype surrounding the game, so I decided to give it a go.

As far as video game stories go, it doesn't get more basic that Ico. It's a pretty standard "rescue the princess" story - a young boy, Ico, must lead a girl through a crumbling castle full of shadowy monsters that threaten to capture the girl and drag her down into an inky black pit.

Part of what makes Ico such a surprisingly emotional experience is the character designs. Both Ico and the princess are crafted to appear a bit weak and insecure. Ico himself has horns growing out of his head (yeah, I thought it was a helmet, too). He moves about like a growing boy - that is to say, a bit clumsily. When he fights off the shadow monsters, he does so by flailing at them wildly with a stick.

The girl is a bit taller than Ico himself, which makes for a bit of a change from the usual princess-rescuer dynamic (depending on your power ups in Super Mario Brothers, I guess). She moves about a bit clumsily as well, often stumbling over her own feet and requiring assistance to make it over some obstacles. She definitely gives the impression of someone who needs rescuing.

Truth be told, she's a bit of a feminist's nightmare, but you still feel for her.

The story of Ico unfolds simply, with minimal cut-scene interruption. As a result, the bulk of the story is left pretty open-ended. Hints are dropped throughout the game as to the nature of the shadow monsters you fight off and who exactly this strange girl is, but nothing is really made explicit. The player is thus able to fill in the blanks with their own imagination, which is ultimately quite a bit more powerful.

The single strongest aspect of Ico is the emotional relationship that's forged between the characters and the player. There's a relatively simple game mechanic at work here - to grab the princess's hand, you have to push and hold the R2 button. Thus, Ico guides the girl through the many dangers of the castle, all while holding her hand. That one little tactile requirement of the gameplay somehow makes the connection feel more personal. Ico manages to take a pretty standard requirement of playing a video game - pushing a button - and turns it into an emotionally loaded event.

Pretty impressive stuff.

Best thing about Ico? It's short. About four hours of gameplay, total. Given the constraints on my time, a short video game is a better one.

The Hippopotamus and the Meaning of Life: An Improvised Poem

The morning sun rises on the Serengeti

And the tall grasses wave just like spaghetti.

The animals stir from their sleep in the marshes
And shake off the dew from their ears and their arshes.

First and foremost is the great hippopotamus...

...who dies at sundown.

Last weekend during the Jesters Royale show, we played a game called Poetry Slam, wherein the players all make up a poem based on an audience suggestion.  The audience suggested "hippopotamus."

Turns out no one knew how to rhyme with "hippopotamus."  Coulda used some help from Bret and Jemaine.