How can you have a fringe festival
that's not on the fringes of anything? It's all fringe, I guess, like
a whorehouse curtain. Let's go sit in a black box. There will be cuss
words and exposed flesh, ironic use of clown white, and young
performers wishing desperately to be misunderstood. We have gotten to
the point where competence may be the only transgression left, rare
as tits on a snake. Still, it's our culture, and this is its
expression. You can't complain about art you don't like an more than
about the proliferation of flies on a dung heap.
Monday, November 17, 2014
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