<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/platform.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d3200994\x26blogName\x3dDreadful+Nonsense\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLACK\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttps://shazzle.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_GB\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://shazzle.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d7615377689624956874', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe", messageHandlersFilter: gapi.iframes.CROSS_ORIGIN_IFRAMES_FILTER, messageHandlers: { 'blogger-ping': function() {} } }); } }); </script>

Dreadful Nonsense

"I've read your blog. it's really funny. you should write a column." - Jon Ronson

The man stands terrified as the group of tramps, brandishing knives, circle around him, trapping him where he stands. Out of the corner of his eye he spots two policemen approaching, and the relief that floods his face is audible in the sudden strength he finds to call out for assistance. The tramps pay no attention, and he is grabbed from behind, suddenly finding himself with a knife at his throat while the policemen passively look on. He begs them to help him. One of the policemen starts reciting a passage from a Shakespeare play. The tramps start attacking in unison as the policeman continues to over-emote. The man’s blood is sprayed across the white backdrop as he falls to the ground in disbelief.

This weekend, myself and He Who Only… decided that living in London shouldn’t only mean pollution, over priced sandwiches, suicide bombers and stressful commuting, and so we decided that some culture needed to be introduced to our routine. He Who Only… had a quick glance around lastminute.com, suggested Theatre of Blood, and off we scamped for a night of blood, gore and overacting.

I had absolutely no idea what to expect from this – the only thing I knew before going in to the theatre was that there was a lot of murder throughout, and a tremendous use of theatrical blood, apropos of which one of my housemates kindly advised me to wear water proof clothing if we were sitting anywhere near the front. Before the start, He Who Only… leaned over and asked which part I thought would be the best part. I decided it would be the first death, because that was bound to be spectacular, and the rest of the deaths would never live up to the shock and awe of the first.

Wrong.

It’s really funny, watching people’s ribs be cracked open and their hearts ripped out of their chests. It’s an actual laughter riot, as ladies get electrocuted. The moment when the curtains are pulled up to reveal one poor person, impaled and left hanging, twitching, in mid air, may have been one of the most entertaining things I’ve ever seen. Ah, culture.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment