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Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Trans Siberian Orchestra
We were pretty jazzed about it. From what we'd seen on YouTube and read
in the paper and heard on the radio and tv, it promised to be a really
rad concert. When we got there, everyone was waiting outside. I guess
that was strike one. Well, we heard from the audience that the show got
in two hours late from Winnipeg so maybe that was why we weren't being
let in even though it was only 15 minutes from show time. Finally we
were all in our seats gazing at a crazy pile of rigging and lighting on
the stage and roadies doing final tests on flame throwers and lasers.
Pretty neat!
The sound of instruments being tuned in the dark got us
cheering then they turned on some lights. The great chunks of lit
rigging began to fly upward and the lights started doing nifty things.
Shifting, chasing, changing colors. So it went through the show. Lights
streaming and dancing, flying and swirling. They even had fake snow that
glittered in the color changing laser light! Great nets of LED made up
the cyclorama that not only twinkled fetchingly, but also had the
ability to display like a giant low resolution LED screen. Oh that
lighting designer is a mad genius, no doubt about it. A mad genius with
no concern for the comfort of his audience. Do you enjoy being
repeatedly assaulted with megawatt strobe lights? Well I don't. My
pleasure at the show waned. I was also distracted and disconcerted by
seeing tons of lighting rigging raising an d lowering and turning side
to side. It kind of looked neat but mostly it just looked dangerous.
Then
we started noticing the music. It was great, grand, cliche and sappy.
The lyrics were hashed together by a desperate preacher. This dude who
didn't know how to read poetry would come onstage and read hackneyed
poetry stories that didn't really rhyme, emphasizing the meter so badly
you couldn't follow the story if there was one. I know it related to
angels weeping over battlefields and cello strains in the darkness.
There was a bum who sang like a young man about a bar full of alkies on
Christmas eve being transfixed by a mysterious boy. The boy convinces
the bartender to go out across the street and give all his money from
the register to a tart out there so she could presumably fly home for
Christmas... Then he serves up the booze for free the rest of the night.
There
was a lovely rendition of Carol of the Bells through which Dan and I
gleefully sang "Ding Fries are Done."
Meantime,
the stink of sewer kept flooding through and the chill wind of the
ventilation system blew the frigid Christmas air across. It was a vain
attempt to keep the methane at bay. This must be why they took so long
to let us in. The arena plumbing was on the fritz. Yech. It was awfully
appropriate for a show which stunk equally bad. Like Limburger cheese
and Thunderbird whine it stank and retched it's way through Christian
preaching and familar guitar chords ripped off from rock legends. The
musicians on stage pranced and posed as though they themselves were
artists, rather than studio musicians having a season in the limelight.
It had all the trappings of a world shaking rock concert with none of
the creativity. The writing behind it was horrible. Some of the singers
weren't even on key. Twenty minutes before the flame thrower finale we
left. I was sick and tired of the attempt of Christians to co-opt a
musical genre born of the fury and passion of discontent. Bad enough
they'd co-opted the Pagan Yule and were hammering the myth of miracles,
peace, generosity and joy to everyone. It is no wonder to me that
suicide goes up at Christmas. When you have all that mythological
nicey-nice floating around, but all you personally get is junk mail and
macaroni, well it's disappointing.
We did buy a CD before the show
began. I sort of regret it but I'm sure there's a few good songs on it.
At $20 it wasn't that pricey. It comes complete with a rather thick
booklet with yet another smarmy Christmas miracle story. Complete with
angels, cynics and miraculous healings of cynics. If you're a Christian
family with nerdy teens looking for something hip to usher in the
Christmas season, you're gonna LOVE this show. The rest of us, save your
nickles for Metallica or something. I give this show a rating of a three
dressed up as a nine.
Saturday, November 01, 2008
burqa on hallowe'en
I haven't had the courage to wear the burqa but as it was Hallowe'en and of course anything goes then, I forced myself out in it this time. I took myself to my favorite mall which was open till 9 and includes movies. I wandered the mall for the hour till 9pm. I hung around the bar entrance watching large schoolbuses disgorge scantily clad women who stumbled and tumbled drunkenly out of the doors. I found it extremely amusing to contrast my costume with theirs. Women with so little fabric on them that less would count as beach wear, and me covered literally head to toe in a large flowing sack. Not even my face visible.
It was amusing that I could make any expression I liked, stare as long as I liked at anyone, and even do things like pick my nose (well, rub tickles on it) without anyone noticing. As I walked around the mall it seemed like a lot of people were in costumes, some as all-covering as mine, some very scary ones too. However, I, in my flowing pink burqa, was the scariest one there. I kid you not! People frowned, pointed, whispered, stared boldly, and turned their heads to follow me as we passed. They were openly unnerved by my appearance. I've worn some mighty unnerving costumes, being creative and weird as I am, but this was unquestionably the most frightening in result. I walked boldly into a jewellery store and the clerk handled me with extreme grace. As she took me back to the back counter to see a display that interested me I lifted the veil. After all, it was just me and a woman. A moslem would be allowed to do so there. It's for men to not see you, that's all. She told me it was a great costume and we twittered a bit over it.
On the way home I stopped at Broadway, Saskatoon's main party street, to walk once up and down the street. Up one side, down the other, back across, and back to the car, wearing my burqa. Again, sensational results. People were staring, reluctant to engage, and generally unnerved. When I got home and talked about it with Dan he said they were afraid of the terrorist and then, finally, it clicked. I represented terrorists in so many of those people's minds! The current most evil symbol is one dressed as an extremist moslem and nothing is more faceless and opressive than these burqas.
Now I keep wondering how they'll react after hallowe'en. I wouldn't be surprised if they are openly hostile with me. Curiously enough, it makes me feel more inclined to try it out. Well it does tonight anyway. Whether that feeling will be there when it's time to measure up and actually do the job, it could be as it's been since I got the garment: Easier said than done. I keep thinking a ride on transit could be very entertaining so maybe. If I do, you'll know about it here!
How it felt to wear it in public. Well it was hot. I had to take off my sweater eventually and then I was still warm until I'd sat still in the movie long enough to lose my body heat. I got a bit... fragrant. I liked the feeling of privacy though. Every time I've worn it I've felt a weird freedom. You can look openly and frankly at anyone you like. You don't have to engage with them when they look at you. You can grin wildly like a maniac and they can't see it. If you're feeling weepy, you can cry or frown and again, no reaction to your expression from others. Bad hair day? Who cares, nobody can see it. Itchy nose? Pick it. LOL You can dig in your purse or play with your PDA under there and nobody sees a thing. In spite of standing out like a christmas tree in July, you're completely private. A faceless entity. I can understand why a woman voluntarily dons the veil even after she is legally freed from it. It feels safer inside. You're safe from male lust. Safe from strangers judgment. Safe from intrusive social interactions. With a male family member escorting you, you're also more or less safe from physical assault. It really is a very secure feeling.
