No
Nobelian, or any
scientist for that
matter, has ever proved
that the species Actorus Necessarus exists or has ever existed. There is no fossil record and Charles Darwin blatantly ignored the rumor and myth of this lost mammalian link in favor of a Caribbean butterfly, Mariposa Emotionala.
So without the
revelatory light of
evolution, it is left
to so-called
Intelligent Design to
take Actorus to its bosom. Rightfully so. The evolution-by-faith answer of so-called Intelligent Design to what was and what will be… traces its record to Noah's Ark. Without question, Actorus was there on that craft of survival, as a pair of, I suppose, Actori − sexual orientation indeterminate.
What would we do
without so-called
Intelligent Design, and
alcohol and cheap
marijuana?
It has been nearly 3000
years, long after Noah,
since a Greek mutation
appeared and declared
itself to be a member
of the species, to
be… an Actor. And
in the modern timeline,
it has been over 100
years since Konstantin
Stanislavski turned his
penetrating mind's
light on a prime
specimen of the
species, Feyodor
Chaliapin, and
poignantly asked: "How
do you do it?" To which
he received the equally
poignant answer: "I
have no idea!" From
that eruptive,
thoroughly disruptive
event the species
multiplied and became
fruitful and went forth
and multiplied. Actors
begat actors and actors
begat directors and
directors begat actors
and actors begat acting
teachers and acting
teachers begat actors
cascading toward the
great Rapture. The holy
books of Christianity
and Judaism and Islam
will soon have to be
rewritten. The fishes
in the sea, the birds
in the air, the animals
on the land, men (and
women of course)
and… actors, all
a god's creatures, big
and small.
It is this latest
intelligent phenomenon
of the cascading Design
that is most odd and
worthy of being called
an anomaly: acting
teachers begetting
actors. It would be
like thumbs begetting
index fingers, which,
incidentally, recent
research revealed that
very possibility,
parallel to stem cell
activity. (But the
Design doesn't tolerate
stem cells fooling
around like that; it
just approves of
'begetting around'.)
Acting teachers
creating actors. By the
21st century, this
anomaly has become big
business, providing
many jobs, a vast
amount of discourse,
and an even vaster
amount of social
intercourse…
among other kinds. The
Design dictates that
the begetter (acting
teacher) completely
shield the begotten
(the actor) from the
metaphysical and
somewhat alchemical
question:
Can acting be taught?
This incidence of
truth-by-avoidance is a
boomerang (q.v.
Australian jazz) from a
law laid down by a
master theatre critic
of the 19th century,
Nobelian playwright of
the 20th century, and
Fabian-Socialist-bon
vivant, George Bernard
Shaw, who said, in a
paraphrased begetting
sort of way:
"Those who can,
act and those who
can't, teach."
That is the burden of
the dark side of the
bosom of the Design
that harbors the
mystery of the Actorus species. And acting teachers are burdened, beyond the reach of modern medicine's burden-lifting potions. They can only beget, oh, and pray.
Hundreds of thousands
nay millions of people
have and do take acting
classes. Do they have
good experiences that
enhance their
awareness, their
sensitivity, their
appreciation of
cultural finery? Of
course! Does it teach
them how to act? Of
course, not! And that
fingers a shadow in the
dark bosom-mystery
– the actor who
has never known an
acting teacher –
an immaculately
self-begotten creature
who breathes the
sulfur-laden fire
called, Talent.
Without question, a
mirror image of
'original sin'.
This is not to dismiss
a vital nutrition for
the rise and growth of
the actor: the shaping
of the instrument
– the voice, the
body, the craft skills,
the awareness of
language. Without it,
you have a mutant mess
such as what was seen
in a piece of swamp-art
by the pop-up image
creator, Baz Luhrmann.
Unwilling, unfit or
unable to don the
master's coat, he
took only the words and
none of the music and
injected them into a
throbbing
fantasy-sans-fantasy
which he begat as Romeo and Juliet. There were some actors with the fire of talent who could move and speak and deliver the language; most were hopeless and hopelessly ugly. In the so-called Intelligent Design, ugliness is not next to holiness, and it knows what holiness is next to… or does it?
Is there still time for
another begetting? Or
is the Rapture upon us?
Broadway and Hollywood
think not. What, then,
is the new? Perhaps it
is the digital actor.
All 1's and
0's, pure,
uncomplicated, and not
burdened by
Workman's
Compensation or Health
Insurance or lunch
breaks. And if
there's time, who
will they beget?
Perhaps the proton
actor, pure light,
streaming out into the
galaxy and beyond like
fairies, whispering to
any audience they can
find: "Phone
Home!"
Will there still be acting teachers? Is there still death and taxes?
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