[cryptome] The Art of Deception: Pantomime

  • From: doug <douglasrankine2001@xxxxxxxxxxx>
  • To: cryptome@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
  • Date: Mon, 22 Dec 2014 11:30:10 +0000

Dear Colleagues,
In this season of Christmas Greetings and goodwill to all men. I suffered the ultimate form of the art of deception yesterday. 3 generations of us went to the theatre to see "Snow White And the Seven Dwarfs". It is the first time that 3 generations of my family have been to an see an event together, and what an event it was! From men dressed as women to girls dressed as boys, to Queens who were not, to princes who were not, to the smoke of artificial fireworks, and mirrors which held slaves; and dwarfs who were children and kingdoms that didn't exist, based on a rather Grimm story collected from European folklore by a couple of German brothers. A Snow White, who was neither covered in snow, nor had anything white on her, her hair as dark as the night...but did it matter to a fired up imagination! Costume jewellery glinted in the bright stage lights and those wonderful Mecca balls circled their spots of light randomly over the theatre, making me wish for the time (between you and I) of the good old days when a little bit of spliff went a long way to harmonising and enhancing my most random of thoughts, in that world which is far away...out of the school window and into the blue, blue sky...with a smattering of clouds.

Music from the orchestra played havoc with the chorus, and the chorus played havoc with the players, even with one's deaf ears, as it deepened the performance of the actors on stage, sometimes in sympathy, sometimes in empathy, sometimes in tune, sometimes behind; to where a whole audience became entranced, mesmerised even by the story and the events as they unfolded. Children and adults were as one, concentrations fixed on the activities on stage, then jumped into action as the evil Queen came on to the front, defeaning her pleas and her attacks on Snow White... who had now come to the age of maturity and wished to marry the Prince...with their shouts of "Oh! No! You wont" to an equally passionate, "Oh! Yes! I will!) , . Money was paid to watch this conglomeration of illusion and delusion. Followed by an interval of popcorn and ice cream, and a suffering of the flash of Ipads and mobile phones as selfies became the order of the day, and pleas by the management, that for copyright reasons, phones and cameras were to be switched off.

The story of course, is about the good overcoming the bad, the forces of evil, the dark mind of the Queen, who was really a witch in disguise and who secretly cast spells on the slave in the mirror and her other servants and slaves, and got them to do as she wished, carry out her evil intentions. Eventually, the dreaded poisoned apple, laced with cyanide is produced...that symbol of the death of Turing for his "bad" ways, or the sexual practices of a mythical Adam and Eve. The Queen was forced to do the dastardly act herself, and she found Snow White in asleep in the woods and gave her the apple to eat because she was hungry, not telling her that behind the sweetness, the scrunchiness of the apple was a a deadly chemical designed to poison her...to kill her, the ultimate deception. And, no matter how much the audience shouted to Snow White, "Don't Eat the Apple"...she did...and fell down dead.

And how did it all end? Did the good guys win and the bad guys lose? Did the villain get her just desserts? Did good win over evil. Do you know, for the life of me I can't remember...

You see...the trouble with age is that one gets so tired, and the excitement of screaming children and grandchildren, just gets too much for one...and at some point ones ears buzz and I drifted off to the Land of Nod...where everything is for free, and the more one uses ones' mind the more exhilerating ones life becomes. In such great depth of enjoyment, enlightment and freewheeling of ideas, I came rudely to wakefulness from a prod in the ribs by my wife and grandchild acting in unison, to the sound of clapping and "Wake Up Grandad! Time To Go Home".

Just think, it didn't end there, the criticism afterwards..."Fancy falling asleep"..."All that money too"...And as for my visit to the land of dreams, to the place of thought, and thinking and free-wheeling and networks of neurons and dendrites working in unison, in harmony and disharmony and competing and cooperating and struggling to produce chemical reactions which flared up into my subconscious...I remember nothing... I have heard it said that thinking is a bug, and mediation is living off the waste...I wouldn't know...:-) as I can never remember where I have been.
C'est la vie,
Sooty & Sweep, alias, AKA as Doug...Sartres' Waiter...

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