Generally intolerant

And so he marched forth from the hinterland of not posting to his blog very often, not because he had a silly set of puns to deliver or a piece of saccharine fluff about being happy, or a semi thought through treatise on a mildly diverting topic. Nah. This time I'm a bit angry. Something has been bugging me for a while. And I'm not going to tolerate it any more.

Yesterday (17th May) was the international day against homophobia and transphobia. Not, as my predictive text tried to make it, homophones and transportation. Damn those similar sounding words and the car they came in.

Now, at this stage, you would be right in thinking this blog could go in one of two directions - is RV about to rail against the mistreatment and fear of those who represent themselves as LGBT? No, though I don't like it. For many reasons, 'LGBT rights' (there is a reason for the quotes, but not a dismissive one) are close to my heart, and it remains utterly baffling to me how people can be persecuted, castigated and deprived of rights simply because of who they are, what their gender identity and choice of how to show that is, and because of who they fall in love with/engage in pleasurable (ideally) and consensual (essential) activities with. But it is SUCH an obvious point there isn't a blog there.

Nor is this an attack on the proliferation of 'International Days of...' we have now. There is, I believe, an International Day of the Sandwich. I love a sandwich, almost as much as Joey from Friends (ask your parents, or my generation, young ones, or just turn on comedy central pretty much any point in daytime). But an international day for them? Sod off. These secular saints days (and that's what they are, and they suffer from the same problem that they are starting to double up, and people only remember the big ones, and they kinda lose their value) are patently ridiculous, designed either using the Hallmark method (free advertising for a product no one wants but suddenly feels compelled to buy by creating an official date for it) or for good causes where every day should reflect them (such as being against homo- and trans-phobia), but making a day for it on some level only validates people making an effort that day (what? They do. Okay, some of you don't, but be honest, most of you are people who didn't need the 'day' to support the cause. The choir shouldn't need preaching to). They should, by and large, be scrapped. And maybe there is a blog post in looking at these days, but this isn't it. The only one which is any good is International Talk Like a Pirate Day. It fulfills the brief. Silly, sublime, not something you should do every day, costs nothing, promotes nothing (if Hallmark ever bring out a greeting card for it, I swear to Thor I will SMITE THEM), and punctures our belief in our own self importance. Long may it continue. Jim lad.

No, I'm going with a third option. This is an idea which has been rolling around in my head for a while, because it bugs me. And this day kind of made the point as well, so crystallised my thinking. And it involves me setting you a challenge. One I currently have not achieved. But I'm trying, and I hope you will too.

This was a day not in support of a group within our multi faceted community, but a day against people who are intolerant towards that grouping. And that's the problem here. The intolerance. So we're all going to stop it.

But first, we must accept something. There are obviously 'bad' intolerances. We tend to identify this with -ism or -phobia. Racism, sexism, homophobia, faithism (okay, that isn't a word...). But for this to work, we have to get rid of other intolerances as well. It's the behaviour we have to stamp on, not only when it is directed at an individual target.

We all have our intolerances. Mine, essentially, is stupidity. Only, it isn't - it is more when people, either through capacity or inclination, don't think. For all I wish I could switch my brain off sometimes, or at least slow the whirring, I would never seek to underclock to the extent many people do. It creates avoidable issues, irrational responses, breakdowns in the operation of society (if that even exists), work for other people and a lack of consideration for others. It is a bad thing. But the intolerance itself may also be a bad thing. I ascribe it to people and immediately cease to place value in their opinions and actions. I cluster people into that group when I don't know them - me, the person who has the mantra that 'there is no one right answer to anything' feels able to define someone as stupid because they are not behaving the way I would, and without trying to understand why their motivations or why this is the right thing for them, defines them in my grouping of 'stupid' people. Okay, some, maybe even most of them, might be, but I don't KNOW that.

The thing about intolerance is that it is a choice. A choice we make for convenience based on an irritation or a difference. Whilst discussing food intolerances with a member of the medical profession, I was told that there isn't really any such thing as an intolerance. You may process it badly, but a true intolerance is called an allergy. We focus so much on the larger corpus of society who should steer clear of lactose, gluten and the like, that there sometimes aren't enough resources left to deal with people who have a potentially life threatening allergic reaction. And it's like that in society. We are all so naturally intolerant, that we create the opportunity for actual hate to do some real damage.

And it all boils down to 'groups'. It is human nature to define people by a grouping, a sub set, a stereotype, a genus, a phylum. It helps us anticipate the way someone might behave, or what they might like. I get it. It's also the single most insidious habit to prevent positive human relationships.

Groupings are defined as being people with a common set of characteristics or even a single characteristic. As, sociologically and biologically, these characteristics influence behaviour, we therefore start to see trends. And it is these trends which are the basis for all intolerance.

An example. Because of the biological make up of their brains, caused by their role in simpler times, it is fair to say that the default, un-influenced development of the male brain impairs or obviates and even just reduces their ability to juggle multiple tasks, instead being inclined and designed to focus on one task at a time. Therefore, unless influenced by other factors, there is a reasonable chance that men will focus one task at a time rather than attempt multiple tasks.

Only, that's too long, too unclear, too conditional. So we simplify it to 'most men can't multitask very well'.

Only that's too vague, and to be honest, can anyone, right now, think of a man who can multitask (by which I mean be able to name them, confirm address, date of birth, and three instances of clear multitasking, cos otherwise it doesn't count)? No? So we may as well drop the moderators, and say 'men can't multitask' and then add, because now it's too short and why else would you be saying it 'and we judge them for it'.

Congratulations, you have just moved for a thoughtful awareness of a trend which correlates to (and appears to have a causal link with) a characteristic, via an oversimplified convenient truth to an outright intolerance based on an untruth. Without really having to go through much, if any, cognitive dissonance to get there.

Now, you could argue that this is not a bad intolerance, but my argument is that there is no such thing as a good intolerance. Apart from creating an acceptance of a pattern of thinking which ends with the word 'fag' spraypainted across the door of the recently married guy couple, or, in extremis, genocide, it is on a personal level demeaning, and damaging. I know of none of my friends who wouldn't baulk at being described as a 'typical man', 'typical woman', 'typical luvvie', 'typical geek' in a derogatory fashion, but we all do it ourselves. So we should stop it.

It would be easy to assume that the above list of insults is defined by the word 'typical', but actually it is the use of the group which follows.

To go back to our example.

I am a man, and therefore I can't multitask.

Only, I'm also left handed. Which statistics show leads to more 'feminised' brain behaviours, including, but not limited to, multitasking. And calls into question if they can really be described as mail or female brain behaviours.

Only, I'm also at a low level on the autism spectrum. Which, depending on your exact condition, either increases or decreases your capacity to multitask.

But I also have evidence. I drive, a lot. Statistically speaking, with the number of miles I drive, I should have had far more accidents caused by me than I have. So I'm obviously either very lucky, or quite skilled at the multitasking required to drive.

But, more evidence. When I have a project to work on, I work from home so I can focus on just that or it won't get done. So I'm better when I don't multitask.

Hmmmmm.

So I'm a man. Can I multitask? The answer is, yes, sometimes. Other times, no.

This is the problem with group based intolerance. In order to make it plausible, you've got to pick a finite number (usually 1) of groups the person belongs to. And there is some justification for that with large groups of people. Men in Black said 'a person is clever. People are stupid' and that's kind of right. If a group of people come together because of a shared characteristic, herd instinct will bring that to the fore. The most refined group of men gets a bit more 'lad' when they go away in a boys trip. Geeks get geekier when they meet up. Clever people get more focussed in just trying to be clever. Politicians get more venal whilst at Westminster. Football fans become borderline mobs chanting tuneless, pejorative mantras.....

Erm, sorry, my intolerances are showing. Never said it was easy.

But even that group of people is more than just their currently heightened shared characteristic. For all the archetypes and stereotypes, they belong to multiple groups. We all do, even simple, uncomplicated souls like me.

I am a man. I am white. I am middle class. I am British, English, Sagittarius, from the Midlands, a geek, of Scandinavian and Celtic descent, left handed, straight, camp, a rugby fan, a cricket fan, a swimmer, a luvvy, a techie, a scientist, an artist, a thinker, a feeler, shy, an extrovert, over confident, over neurotic, autistic (a bit), emotional, logical, Christian, sarcastic, clever, childish, pragmatic, fanciful, an older brother, a first child, the young for my role, older than most of my friends, very conventional, very eccentric....and so many many more. So many characteristics, some very contradictory.

Put simply, if one where to somehow be able to draw a venn diagram of all the groups and shared labels I can be assigned to, then the only person in the overlap (even if just by a fraction of an inch) is me. I could have all the prevailing characteristics of those groups. Or, by a quirk of stats, none of them. Or, where they are contradictory, maybe both. The thing I am truly 'typically' is RV. And that is true for all of us.

Look, I know about the studies. Medical, demographic, strong trends exist that justify targeting groups or certain characteristics to make a sale or achieve an end. But in the end they are just probabilities, not certainties, and in any case, are subject, as even the laws of motion are, to no other influencing force. It is impossible to group a set of people together and define an absolute set of characteristics they all have. So you can't. So stop it. And maybe, you'll start looking at each person as a person. And maybe you'll hate them. But you'll hate one person, not a whole group who have something in common. And maybe you'll be a bit less intolerant.

It is easy to be intolerant of a simplified group. It is difficult to hate a complex person who has things you abhor and things you adore. So why take the route to intolerance? If you don't know anyone who holds a characteristic, be cautious about forming a judgement.

We live in a society created, in part, by subliminal intolerances. Much of our conventions and rules are either caused by inherent racism, classism or sexism. If affected by those (I'm white, middle class and male, so the system is kind of designed for me, I'm not going to claim otherwise), I can understand being unhappy. But, rather than operating on turnaround is fair play basis being resentful, or even perpetuating the behaviour by conforming to it/developing your own intolerances, maybe try just getting on with the people in front of you. Like I say, I'm white, middle class and male. You could quite easily hate me. But I a) don't massively conform to those groups and b) right here, right now, I wouldn't make the decisions they made in the past. So please don't blame me that they did. It demeans me, and your prejudice based on an intolerance for what, rather than who, I am, makes me think less of you.

We all do it. Enlightened, largely liberal people as my friends are, at social occasions we split, usually along gender lines, and conversation will at times drift onto the 'men are useless' and 'women are confusing/irrational' theme. Harmless fun? I would contend not - it validates a behaviour. I occasionally join in on it, but I loathe it. If we stop, maybe we'll start being more tolerant. We can't do it just because it is done to us, or we will never stop.

I'm not going to say 'don't group people'. It's instinct, and a helpful skill for anticipating likely behaviour. I'm not going to say don't judge. Once again, it is instinctive, though I might caution being less harsh in your judgement just due to differences. But maybe don't judge people for being part of a group, especially one they can't help being part of. There is far, far more to them than that. Maybe we'll all find ourselves being more tolerant.

We need to get over labels, even in jest. People are far more complicated than your labels, however comprehensively they are catalogued.

Life would be pretty intolerable any other way.

Musical whimsy...

Okay, a blog post is long overdue. But as usual, I only find myself inclined to do so whilst in a state of melancholy. So instead, I present a moment of indulgent piffle, which I posted purely to avoid a status of the sort I am not current allowed to post on Facebook (see previous blogs if you can bear their emo nature).

Some short, sweet whimsy. Hope you like it. If not, you've not lost much time reading it....tootles'!

"Richard likes his novels Pulp-y. Dodgy, Blur-ry characters are, for him, an Oasis from the trials of real life. Who knows if that man, dressed all in Suede, will turn out to be a Sleeper agent, or just a Supergrass, but where a seedy end remains the great Leveller for all? Who cares about oversimplifications like the grim north and the Beautiful South? No one is trying to claim the characters are as complex or iconic as Boo Radley. Nah, we want shady gangsters called Gomez and maybe some Barenaked Ladies and a plot more convoluted and implausible than anything produced by your latest REM cycle dream. Besides, it's all more rewarding than this current trend for 90s music nostalgia."

Ah, bring on the nostalgia - love the alt and indie scene from those years.

Happy Easter everyone.

On Happiness. And the pushing of buttons.

Well hello there. You're looking good, I must say. Yes, I know, it's been a while. Sorry about that. Things keeping me busy.

If you're feeling neglected (I'm sure you're not) then bear in mind that whilst it has been just over 2 months since my last blog post, I have yet to meet my new cousin, born nearly 3 months ago, and now won't until he is basically 5 months old. So stuff your guilt trip - I've got worse sources of guilt. And anyway, you can get your fill of my regular meanderings on twitter. @MrRV for regular twambles, rants, musings and sarcasm, the almost defunct @HYMRV for oddities, and of course the group accounts @Cantburyplayers for all the latest on the am dram group I'm in and @commandertours for the updates on the regular 'cultural' trips arranged by The Commander (latest confirmed destination; Munich, this September. I understand there might be a beer festival on at the time.). So don't say I don't update you. Combined with my Facebook and less well tended g+ profile, this blog is just part of a multi strand assault on you with my opinions. So shush.

In any case, both Miscriant and the Demon Gin (read their blogs. Follow them on twitter. Please. Or they'll stick me with the pins again. Especially that Gin woman) are already, or will be, covering this is greater detail, hence lack of detail here, one of the reasons I've been quiet. I've been working on a play. Yes I know. After Wyrd Sisters I promised myself a break. But I hadn't acted, or at least my version of acting, in over a YEAR! And I got talked into it by C. I'm still ambivalent about Hobson's Choice as a piece of drama, but under Sally's direction (fresh from being my Granny Weatherwax), and with a top cast, I think we made quite a show of it. I was average to mediocre (no self deprecation here, I was - I have been better and I will be again. My average is still okay to pretty good, I was just disappointed not to get more laughs for a role that was essentially just a sequence of comic cameos. So sue me) but there were storming performances from the rest of the cast, not least the aforementioned Miscriant and Demon Gin (seriously, follow them, they are brandishing pins at me RIGHT NOW!) and Miscriant's t'other half, my oft time partner in crime, Stephen. And we sold out the theatre the final night and came close on the other two. So yeah, I've been busy.

Don't think I haven't been blogging. No no. I've just not been publishing them. This blog remains a Titanic killer of a blog, with just the merest snowy tip poking above the surface. Mainly, the reason I don't publish posts is that I start boring myself and don't finish them. Sometimes, as has been alluded to before, I realise that there are a group of fractal, in progress, blogs which all have a common theme, so I scrap them and write a single missive on the theme. Often, they are cathartic releases, free writing rants which are my new version of shouting into the void (my last blog post. Go and read it. It will be, at least obliquely, referred to again). Mostly, they are simply bad (and the bar isn't high - look at the dross I've published before!).

But to business. I'm procrastinating. Doing some unnecessary house keeping while I sidle up to the topic. This is a hard blog post to write. Not for the same reasons as the last one. Although that was surprisingly easy. Despite the consciously confessional tone, and revealing of a more directly personal side of myself than even a committed 'sharer' like me usually does (I make no secret of my struggle with certain things, but I always try and be oblique about them as a I don't want to make them define me, or, frankly, put people off knowing me), Shouting into the Void tumbled out of me easily. And I think I've been doing better. I have not posted a 'woe is me' Facebook status this year (and if you think I have, you've simply misinterpreted my occasional, flippant, self deprecation or the meaning of obscure statuses). Some of my friends have observed a tendency to grumpiness, but this has largely been related to specific events, or sheer basic tiredness rather than damaging wallowing and introspection. I still have downs, and have bent the ears of a couple of sympathetic friends when I find myself overthinking, but less often. And I try and do it straight away, and listen to the advice.

But no, this is more difficult because I need to keep some details private. Because they involve....other people, some of which, as is undoubtedly their right, don't like details of their life splashed across the net. So forgive me if this is detail light or allusory.

I'm happy.

On two occasions in my Facebook 'life' I've posted a status which simply, baldly, stated that. Well, one fluffed a bit by pretending to forget how to spell it, but the joke aside, it was the only message. Those two statuses are my most 'liked' to date. So either people want me to be happy, or are just pro happiness in general. Or both.

Or maybe, it's because I have previous for seeking to temper or undermine my own happiness. I've been doing that lately. And I've just figured out how to stop. Hence the post. But we need to go back a year.

The story of being happy, and of the three buttons, starts a year ago. Sort of. When historians come to discuss this (and they won't), there will be a school of history which suggests that it actually started in 2011 (the same people who view the Great Depression as the guarantee that World War II would start). There will be yet another which looks to 2010 (Treaty of Versailles simply ensured that another war was inevitable). Others will point to 2006-7 as making the set up of 2014 inevitable (there was only one world war with a VERY long cease fire in the middle while we all regrouped). And even a few will say that, whilst not inevitable, my current state of happiness and the events which led me to get there, and nearly prevent myself getting there, started in 1997-8 (the world wars were simply Europe resolving matters which the 30 Years War had raised but not resolved).

But let's stick with the annexation of Austria and the Sudetenland shall we? Last year. (Incidentally, whilst I'm quite proud of my schools of history allegory, using the world wars and genuine debates I studied at uni, I realise that I have inadvertently cast myself as Hitler and my friends and loved ones as the rest of Europe, undeserving of the evil about to be visited on them. Please try and look passed this). Last year in conversation with some friends I identified it was time to stop prevaricating and procrastinating and make happen. I narrowed this down to three things, which I referred to as buttons which needed pressing.

Okay, stop. I'm lying. Ish. The meaning of the three buttons wasn't originally that. It was a reference to something else. It evolved. Mainly as when people clocked my reference to buttons on twitter, I had to come up with an answer. And as the original meaning had moved on, I came up with that.

So, I got proactive about pushing the buttons which would change the parts of my life. Outside of a very flattering internet meme (which now adorns a badge, a baseball cap, has appeared on set in a few Canterbury Players plays, is the inspiration for my text alert, and the URL for this very blog), most people would not have noticed any difference. But believe me, it was there. I was doing things which I would never have done. Being confident. Having confidence.

And, though it took a while, it worked. Better than I'd ever expected. Seriously. I ended up with something I've wanted for years which I thought I wouldn't get, and didn't deserve. Even though pretty much everyone who knew about my desires thought they were achievable if I just manned up.

And I could not STOP worrying about it.

I won't go into the details of my worries. That's unfair on pretty much everyone involved. And to everyone affected. But suffice to say, regardless of how it manifested, what the issues boiled down to was a logical extension of a simple conceit.

I could not believe my luck.

People say that all the time, right? Try saying it with low self esteem. Suddenly it becomes riding your luck, looking for problems, waiting for the. Other. Shoe. To. Drop. In some ways, this is a good instinct in any situation in your life. It stops you getting complacent. But it can also become very much a self fulfilling prophecy.

I made a promise in my last blog to relax and be happy, and enjoy myself. I've been doing that. I've gained something honestly better than I'd ever thought I would have by being proactive in the last 12 months. And recently I've stopped worrying about that being in some way false. Or that as I reveal who I am more and more, that it will end it.

I know there is a danger this blog will become a bit 'self help' like. But stuff it. Some advice.

There are a great many things that can go wrong in anything you do. If you don't feel happy, whether you feel hard done by or not, it is your responsibility to change it.

But if you feel like you are happy, there is a decent chance you might actually be happy. Who would have thought it.

Have a good one kids.

OWWWWW! Oh yeah, and follow the blogs and Twitter accounts of the others. Because pins are sharp.

PS - I mentioned 3 buttons right? But, whatever their original meaning, I've only mentioned 1 here. Time to get proactive.

Shouting into the Void

Hallo kids.

It's been a while I know. Primarily, a change in life situation, but also my guru de blogging, Miscriant, and newer bloggers, The Lost Fimir, The Demon Gin and Random Nerdery do it rather better.

But, I do have something to muse on, and, cliché as it is, it relates to New Year's Resolutions.

I don't propose to go over well trodden ground. These are arbitrary promises based on a quirk of dating, and often not stuck to. I know that. So do you.

But this year, I've been set two, which actually relate to the same thing, and done one myself. However, as is so often the case with me, they are actually one.

At a very refined new year's dinner party, I was asked by one of my friends if I had any new year resolutions. I answered that I had been given one to try and live up to, but before I could say further, two other friends chipped in to ask if it was to stop posting 'woe is me' Facebook statuses.

They had a point.

I'm a reasonably well behaved Facebook and Twitter user. I don't post what I had for lunch, I don't use txt spk. I don't rant about work directly, or other people by name. I don't invite people to games endlessly, or update my status every half hour. I keep memes to a meme-imum. (sorry). I only tag myself and people I know don't mind being tagged in photos. I do not status-jack (a practice whereby two mutual friends will have an often off-topic chat with each other in the comments under a status. It's untidy, and the best medium for that is messenger or chat. And I keep being notified of every step in a conversation I don't need to know about. Stop it, all of ya.)

My statuses are self indulgent. But that is kind of the point of social media.What started as a desire to be able to comment on stuff without being explicit in a public forum has led to a tendency to be allusive and, if not cryptic, then certainly obfuscatory in my online oratory. I've been a Facebook user long enough to remember when every status had to start with "[name] is..." which means I still try and treat my name as the start of the status and refer to myself in the third person. I even have traditions, the most notable of which is the "was brought to you by.." status on 31 December, which in all honesty started as a way of me trying to remember the highlights of increasingly full years, but does seem to fall into the trap of being self congratulatory status, which is a Facebook sin.

But, BUT, my one true Facebook and Twitter sin is self deprecating or 'down' statuses. These are considered poor form, the worst kind of attention seeking, looking for validation from close or distant friends, which is often followed by a feeble thank you or by dismissal of things being as bad as the status suggests.

On this basis, I agree my friends were right to highlight this, and my plan is to post no more of these.

But, before I do, or rather don't, do this, I do want to explain what I was doing. Because, although I concede that the public nature of the statuses and posts meant they appeared to be as above, it wasn't what I was doing. I was shouting into the void.

Those close to me know I struggle with my self esteem. I am naturally aware of my own brilliance, and, if I can base anything on the people who surround me (if by a man's friends ye shall know him and all that), then I'm pretty special. But my psyche is conditioned by years of trying to avoid becoming arrogant to self criticise so I don't become a show off. I also over think. It started because most of my social skill is learned, and a conscious effort. I therefore had to turn over most social events in my head again and again to ensure I hadn't missed anything or caused offence.

I can't stop, and in the space of your own head, if you're so convinced and conditioned to find problems, when there are none, you create them. You miss out on enjoying the moment.

It was suggested a few years ago that I try shouting into the void. The theory is simple - you break the cycle in your head by saying out loud to a sympathetic audience what's in your head. It becomes smaller by breaking out from your head. You realise it wasn't a big deal. The sympathetic audience knows and understands your crazy, but isn't required to comment on it (quite the reverse) so, if like me, you're an extrovert, or, as a John puts it, the locus of your personality is external, you have presented it to an audience, not just said it out loud to yourself and then put in back in your head.

It works. If any of the above sounds like you, I'd honestly suggest trying it. Sadly, I broke my version of it. I started overthinking who my sympathetic audience was, feeling guilty about it. So the void I started to shout into became the slightly depersonalised, or rather distanced forum of social media. Still an audience, still saying 'out loud', but not requiring of comment, and in a safe place.

Which might have worked. If I'd told anyone that was what I was doing. Instead, I came across as the more self indulgent, whining moron I usually look down on. And ended up bending the ear of real life friends more than ever.

So, new plan. I can't promise I won't feel low again, or get the urge to shout into the void. But I'm going to try not to bend everyone's ear about it. Or post on Facebook. Or twitter. Or sit there fretting until I say something really dumb to someone special.

Instead, I'm going to do follow a piece of advice given by one of wisest people I know, and do one thing:

"RELAX "

I am currently ridiculously happy. In addition to having fantastic friends, a brilliant family, and a roaring social life, doing things I like to do, I'm now finally thinking positively about the future. Those who know me, know why, and who. And I like to keep some things private, so that's as far as I'll go.

So, I'm going to try enjoying it. If I feel myself drifting, overthinking, frowning, I'm going to laugh at myself. Because with any rational diagnosis or assessment, I'm happy, successful, unaccountably popular, and actually jeopardising that by worrying about it rather than anything else. I've come close lately. That needs to change.

Will I avoid being down again, or overthinking? I doubt it. But I need a better way of dealings with it.

So no more shouting into void. I'm going to relax, and be happy instead. Hopefully, I've caught it just in time before it caused too much trouble.

So, I do have a new year's resolution. It's not the stopping of the Facebook statuses. It's not a specific objective. It therefore might just work.

Relax. Be happy. Enjoy.

Challenge accepted.

Happy 2014.

Wyrd Sisters : Hallowe'en Panto (nobody mention Macbeth...oh...er....well, that is. Erm)

When shall we three meet again?

That question might soon get a bit harder for the cast of Wyrd Sisters. A week from the publishing of this blog post, we go on for first night.

Now, anyone who has been vaguely following this blog will be expecting an 'eeeek', or an 'arrrggghhh' or some form of semi faux breakdown and panic. But that won't be happening. Because people, we have a show.

I love Wyrd Sisters. It was my first Pratchett book, and introduced me to the bonkers, brilliant mind of Terry Pratchett and the Discworld, where he most often plays. And it became my first play for the Canterbury Players as director. When I joined the Players in August 2010, I thought of myself as a director who dabbled in acting. I then spent three years discovering that I really love acting. But directing was always there as what I wanted to do at some point. This year has been about that, from assisting on Teechers to directing Wyrd Sisters, I've been getting back to old directing ways. I expected it to be hard work. I expected it to be rewarding. What I didn't necessarily expect was for it to be so much outright fun and enjoyment.

The main reason for that is that I haven't really directed this. Nosiree. This show has been created by the cast and crew. I've simply been an enthusiastic, supportive, occasionally constructively critical audience member, observing the show building. I really hope that you'll come and see the show and enjoy it the way I have. Let me give you some reasons why:

The Witches

Perhaps inevitably, a play called Wyrd Sisters lives or dies by the performance of the three (nominal) crones around the cauldron. And this play is alive....ALIVE...ALIIIIIVE! (That will make sense if you see the show).

I was nervous about casting Ellie as Magrat. Not because I thought she couldn't do it. Quite the reverse. Ellie is a hugely talented actress, but tends to get certain kinds of roles, and I was worried that if I cast her in this, she wouldn't get to use the range she has again. But she graciously accepted the part, and is brilliant. Her own natural dry, sardonic sense of humour is deployed to great effect, bringing the often missed wisdom of Magrat to the fore. She holds her own against the formidable presence of the other witches, giving Magrat a steel which is also often ignored (I honestly get a little bit nervous when she is holding the knife to the guard's throat) and her chemistry with the Fool is brilliant (mind you, it had better be, she is married to him). A little bit of improv from Ellie is also responsible for my favourite moment of the play.

Jill is someone I have acted with on a number of occasions now, and she is consistently excellent. She was pleased to be cast as Nanny Ogg, mainly as family members had told her that she 'is' Nanny, and I can see their point. An impeccable sense of comic timing, and the ability to quietly steal a scene from under the more serious characters, and also 'manage' Granny, makes her the ideal Nanny Ogg. Going away and creating lyrics for a short snippet of the infamous Hedgehog song on the basis of an off the cuff comment from me is also an example of some of the commitment and extra depth she brings.

Sally IS Granny Weatherwax. Actually, that's unfair. Apart from some lighting work I did on Barefoot in the Park, I hadn't worked with Sally prior to this play, but knew her socially, and she is a chaotic whirlwind of generosity, madness and fun. So she isn't Granny Weatherwax. But when the hat goes on, the voice comes out, and the stillness and anger comes out, she inhabits completely my view of the character. I will never be able to read the books starring her character again without hearing her voice, or indeed those of the other witches.

The Court of Lancre

John is a Fool. Er, John is THE Fool. He came into Wyrd Sisters with his eyes wide open, being a massive Pratchett fan, and he may feel a little ignored during this production. But actually, it is a testament to his performance. Right from the get go, John has been capering when he should, playing with the voice of the fool, adding in bits of business and suggesting reams of ideas (the daffodil head dress was all his idea). On two occasions, he was given the instruction by me to 'vamp' and this has led to short stand up routine and an out and out audience invasion. John directed me in Bouncers, so he understands all too well the pressures on a director, but also the sheer joy which can come from an actor throwing ideas in, whilst not being precious about them. He also manages, on two very specific moments to abandon light, comic performance and bring to bear dramatic, disturbing turns for his character, whilst still seeming in keeping with what has come before and after.

Jim messaged me early on in the rehearsal process with a question. "Have you seen Robert Carlyle as Rumpelstiltskin in Once Upon a Time?". At that moment, I relaxed - before I'd even started directing him as Felmet, he had already nailed the idea of what I wanted from the part. By turns menacing, feeble, mad as a box of (dried) frogs (pills), and perverse, his Felmet arrived virtually fully formed, and has simply built. I've worked with Jim on a few occasions before, and he is always good value, but I honestly think Wyrd Sisters is the best, or most flamboyant, I've seen him. He is a constantly cheery presence, and goes away between rehearsals and comes back with idea, suggestions, props and on one occasion, annotated sound effects CDs.

Stella scares me as Lady Felmet. As she should. She joined us about a year and a half ago, and has appeared in most productions since. However, I hope that the two productions she has done this year have been particularly fun. She displayed great comic timing and the ability to switch from one complete, convincing role to another in an instant in Teechers, and here, we've given her the chance to play the out and out villain. She's dominant, threatening, sarcastic, sadistic and powerful. I must remind myself never to cross her...

Scene Stealers

Wyrd Sisters has a cast of around 17 (I can never remember the exact number), and over 25 speaking roles. But there are no duff roles, and some great performances.

Peter, Jo and Adam form the world's oddest triple act as the key part of Vitoller's players. Peter's TomJon, we all freely admit, is not massively like the character in the books. There are a lot of allusions in Wyrd Sisters to TomJon getting into a lot of trouble when left on his own - and yet his character strictly as written seems not to back that up. Peter's mannered, fun take on the character reintroduces that, without losing the idea that TomJon is the best actor on the Disc. Jo as Hwel is sublime. A flippant line in my audition notes led to her auditioning the part in a Brummie accent, and when I said she didn't have to carry on with it, her response of "Do you mind if I give it a go?" laid the foundations for a great performance, with a dry sense of humour, the most terrifying beard ever, and a little touch of the Cheery Littlebottoms. Adam's Vitoller fulfills my original brief that it should be Brian Blessed meets Ian McKellen to the full, and is an actor manager of the old school. The rumours that he is the man behind the Death mask are yet to be substantiated. I maintain that Death HIMSELF has deigned to make an appearance, and small performance....whether I asked him to or not.

Sinead waltzes off with the scenes she is in. As the obsequious chamberlain, she brings a very Pratchettian leavening to a scene which starts as pure Shakespeare melodrama, and as member of Vitoller's players, her comic reactions, attempts to 'be' Death, and imitation of Stella's Lady Felmet  all enrich the scenes she is in. But is is her turn at the sarcastic demon the witches call on for help where she leaves me giggling uncontrollably every time. I wonder how many people will spot the Family Guy reference in that scene.

Richard's deceased Verence is a difficult part. By turns petulant, regal, invisible to almost all the characters and lumbered with a couple of key speeches which act as plot exposition, the character in the play version is primarily a plot device. Richard is making him funny, entertaining and believable.

Becky, Kasia, Dan, Lucy, Lisa, Tessa and Alanna have some of the toughest roles in the play. As various actors, robbers, guards, peasants, they have more often than not been given a few sharp, pithy lines, and a geneal guiding comment from me to improvise around a theme, and they have taken it, and run with it. They all have a moment to shine, and also have come together as a team of performers.

Behind the Scenes

Plays like this, especially big, slightly lavish productions, tend to rely on both those in front of, and behind the scenes, working together. And the team here is excellent.

Derek designs and builds pretty much all of the sets we do with the players. He and I had a lot of exchanges early on, and some wacky, creative and brilliant idea were discussed.Once we had agreed a design, Derek trotted off and has been busily building. I popped down to the Warehouse where set items and props are stored last weekend, and even by his own standards, Derek has surpassed himself. His stage will create the atmosphere and setting before a single light is plotted or line delivered.

Sally, Nick, Becky and Sarah, along with the cast, have pulled together the key issues of props, costumes and planning for backstage management with aplomb. In particular, Sally and Nick, who are both newcomers to the players, have been a god send,co-ordinating the props and the stage management planning with aplomb. Becky's calm, thorough approach and Sarah's moral support and knowledgeable advice have made this easy for this non detail focused director. Alanna also has taken my vague requirement for a small dance number and made it a real high point of the show.

We have more crew coming in for the final week. Robbie and Jean-Paul will come in to do sound and lights. And Claire as DSM will essentially, along with Nick as stage manager, take the show off myself and Becky. Claire has been a key player behind the scenes from the start, acting along with Becky as someone for me to bounce ideas off, contributing ideas and a source of calm and reason. I honestly couldn't hand over to a DSM I trust more to make the show work.

And through it all, has been Becky, probably better known to lot of readers on this forum as Miscriant. She and I have 'double acted' two of the three Canterbury Players productions this calendar year - her directing with my largely technical assistance for Teechers, and now a reverse of directing roles for Wyrd Sisters. She even effected to be happy taking on a smaller role in the play than perhaps she wanted because I wanted her to help me direct. She has been a godsend, working away behind the scenes, plugging in the gaps in my detail, helping actors with sticky bits, taking detailed notes, being willing to act as bad cop when I got overenthusiastic with my notes and became good cop, and killing a couple of recent panics dead. This is as much her show as it is mine.She's also recently been playing with photshop, and has taken the rehearsal shots which she has so kindly given me permission to use, and made them something more like what we see in our heads when watching rehearsal. A couple of examples are below, with credits for the additional art work provided below.

 Great A'Tuin -  nicolsche, http://scribblenauts.wikia.com/

Blasted Heath - Gaius Duke, http://www.conceptart.org/forums/showthread.php?t=172601

There are many other people who have done a lot here both in front of and behind the scenes. This post isn't intended as a thank you, though it includes that. What I wanted to convey was that this play, which I always hoped would make for an entertaining and diverting couple of hours of theatre, has been made, by the brilliant people involved in it, something which I think will be quite the show.

I've thoroughly involved being a long term audience member for this production. I look forward to seeing the last few performances, and whilst I will be glad of the rest, will miss it when it is gone. I hope we several will meet again very soon.

But don't take my word for it. Judge for yourself by being an audience member. Come and see the show at the Gulbenkian Theatre Wednesday 6th - Friday 8th November. Whether you are a Pratchett fan, a theatre fan, a Shakespeare fan,or just want to have fun, there is something there for you.

Sisters are doing it for themselves.....

It's entirely possible that I may have confused my cast.

But, I'm starting in the middle again. Bad habit. Following the non too subtle hint from Miscriant in her own blogpost about rehearsals, I have finally sat down to do the first of two updates on the progress of rehearsals of Wyrd Sisters, the plan wot I iz currently directoring.

There will be some people out there who have a dim and distant memory of me directing them before. What comes below will not be a surprise. But to anyone who has been directed by anyone before, including my stint as assistant director on Teechers, I suspect rehearsals for Wyrd Sister may have started a little confusing.

First, let's start from the beginning (these blog posts have more false starts than Return of the King has false endings). Rehearsals have been going well. After an initial small panic. Sadly, for a number of different reasons, several members of our cast had to drop out of the play during the first week of rehearsal. The loss of the odd cast member in a large cast amateur production is,sadly, a fact of the pass-time. But several, all at once, including at least one major character? I began to be convinced that the play might be jinxed. With the help, and calming influence, of a couple of invaluable people, and the flexibility of the cast, roles were juggled, and actually, I really love the way the cast has ended up.

We spent the first month of rehearsals 'blocking and locking' scenes. My weekends were filled with me scribbling pages in the notebook, talking to the set designer, plotting the basic physical layout of each scene, and the transitions from one scene to the other. There was also the gathering of the backstage crew, acquiring the rights, and starting the process of promoting the play. It's very easy to see the role of director as being about the prep, and it is, but you are basically on duty the whole time you aren't at work once you have taken on a play. I would never claim it is as hard as being the lead in a show - in the end, there are no lines to learn, no final, do or die performance, but it is very hard work. I knew that from my own previous experience, but it has been a pretty sharp reminder.

So, 'blocking and locking'. This is where I may have confused my cast, or at least one of the places. Blocking is essentially the first step of rehearsals, where you work through scenes one by one (rarely in order), pacing through them, working out moves, key beats, and starting to form the basis of the performance. Blocking rehearsals have virtually no props, or costume, and the cast pretty much always have a script in one hand, with regular pauses as they scribble notes in their script so as they learn the words, they also learn the moves and the key emphases on lines. Most directors (rightly) come into those scenes with an initial 'starter for ten' on how they envisage the scene being performed, whether they are directors who have every move planned, and a particular and specific vision, or whether they are ones who simply like to provide a framework. I like instead to set a scene, give a start point of the scene (which I took to referring to as 'Previously on Wyrd Sisters'), a description of where the characters are, and where they need to be by the end. I then get the actors to have a go at the scene and we build from there.

That was a bit unfair. I am the director after all...I'm supposed to give them some direction. But I do find that this produces the best outcomes in the end. By discussing themes and ideas, we can then try and create something which they enjoy performing and which tells the story, rather than creates a framework without their input and then forces them to build in a certain direction. The creative people who I am lucky to have in the cast come up with all kinds of things I would never have thought of...and I take some degree of pride in the fact that what I think are the best moments in the play have come from where the actor has just tried something that they thought of, and it worked. But it is a bit different, and high risk.

Locking is a key part of blocking rehearsals. It is all well and good blocking the scenes and making notes, but you should always finish a blocking rehearsals running the scenes with a 'performance speed' run, albeit with scripts in hand. This not only locks the scene in the mind of the performers, but it also tests that the decisions you've made whilst staggering through it work en masse.

Having run a couple of rehearsals for each scene like that, we took a 'reading week', so people can learn their lines. Well,okay, it was also so I could go to Poland for the 2013 Commander Tours, but honestly, all that did was decide when we had the week. We had a reading week on Bouncers, another high energy, script dense, funny yet serious play which John (the Fool in Wyrd Sisters) directed a small group of actors, including me, in last year, and it really worked for putting the actors into the position to run and polish performances when they came back. I wanted that to happen in Wyrd Sisters.

Once back from reading week, this is where the fun really starts. Books go down, props and costumes come out, and the play comes alive and the performances become more real.

But that, and a bit more on the brilliant people I'm working with, will come next time.....on Wyrd Sisters.....

Enjoyed the blog? Intrigued by the pictures? Just want to come and see a good, entertaining show?

Terry Pratchett's Wyrd Sisters, adapted by Stephen Briggs, is on stage at the Gulbenkian Theatre, Canterbury from 6-8 November 2013. Tickets available from The Gulbenkian

Do something every day which scares you....

I like scary things. And scary people.

It always disconcerts people when I tell them that, especially as it is usually in the context of calling them scary.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Hello everyone! This post is long overdue...in fact, since I last spoke with you about items such as the casting of Wyrd Sisters, I've rather dropped off the blogosphere (I will of course, set myself a harsh punishment such as lines or no pudding after dinner for using this word). Those of you who follow the more regular and well structured blog of Miscriant will be aware that it has been a busy summer for me, as I am the RV referred to and occasionally pictured in the same blog. But in truth, the busy factor was no more so for her than me, so why is this the first blog from me for a while?

Actually, as is a bit of a running theme, I had started several blogs, and not been able to get a post out of them...and then I established that a running theme was my being scared...and my unusual relationship with that word and people like it. So, at an uncommon loose end this weekend (a confluence of timing, the availability of others and a social engagement tomorrow leaves me free on a Saturday night), I've decided to combine all the fragments under one discussion of that idea rather than the events which caused me to consider it.

So, scary things and people.

Actually, on the face of it, liking the scary is not unusual. Horror movies and their success is proof of that. I suppose though, I'm not talking about fear, terror, horror, suspense, even intimidation (that word again). In point of fact, I am ambivalent or disinterested in such things. Psychological horror fascinates and draws me in, and then leaves me a genuinely unnerved person whenever on my own for a while after. I love the macabre, which feeds my Monday night occupation of playing a game where I am a vampire in modern day Canterbury, solving twisted, often occult crimes......but anyway......

Scary, for me, is a presence, the sheer size and scale of something, the utter ridiculousness of it. And I love it. Scary is a word I use to describe something which causes a shot of adrenalin, that moment of focus where the world becomes clearer, more dramatic, and, for this particular person, more real and important. I am genuinely scared of pretty much all of the people I am closest to, in  the true meaning of the word - they cause a visceral response of excitement in me, because of who they are, how they interact with the world. And it makes them brilliant, exciting, important, unusual characters, and I love them for it. Sadly, scary is often seen as a synonym for frightening or intimidating, so when I call someone that, they often seem offended, or simply reject the assessment. It isn't what I mean.

Putting aside false modesty and the pretended lack of self awareness which Brits seem to require, I have to accept that I am probably, potentially a bit scary under my own definition. I am a little odd, definitely loud, and effect a self confidence and lack of concern for the opinion of others which could be scary. Of course, I am at heart a little dull, and very conventional, along with shy...and, until recently, overmastered by a sense of low self esteem (this is currently under repair), which is apparent to those who know me well. Fortunately, people seem to find me quite nice, so once the initial flush of interest caused by my scariness fades, they forgive the ongoing lack of interesting characteristics in lieu of decent, affectionate, company.

I famously once said to a few friends that, in some ways, my life began at 30. This off the cuff remark was never true, and I want no one reading who knew me in the period before to assume I am writing off or regretting anything which came before. But, my life has been governed since by two principles:

• If in doubt, say yes; and
• Do something ever day which scares you.

And I have honestly never been happier. I have abandoned things which I adopted because I 'should'. In some ways, 2013 has been the culmination of those things, with my new approach to life bearing fruit. In the last 12 months I have done things which I have enjoyed more than many other experiences in my life. I have tried, during the drafting of this blog, to summarise this, but it always seems indulgent and self congratulatory. Suffice to say, whether it is speeches, stag dos,directing, assisting, soundtracks, training (to 80 people!!), asking direct questions, throwing away button holes, and many more, this year has been the scariest, and best, year of my rebooted life. I am lucky to have supportive, encouraging friends, and confidantes. But honestly, none of it would have happened if my mind set wasn't to get scared, and then do it anyway. Even if sometimes, and very relevantly to me at the moment, I waited a couple of years to do so.

This blog is not about advice. That would be madness....by definition, any advice I give is how not to do it. However, an observation is that people spend their life frightened. Worried what might happen. Life is short, ridiculous, and overburdened with rules which aren't actually rules. So, being frightened is understandable, if limiting.

But don't be frightened. Frightened is basically letting the world win. Be scared. And then do it anyway. The scariest things are the best.

Boo!