From the theatre's interior, the rain is mere white noise; a continuous hiss and drumming against glass. I lie across several seats in an otherwise empty row, flanked by more empty rows.
The players scream their lines so they are heard; and they probably can be heard from within the first three rows. The few bodies seated there seem to be following and enjoying the show.
This is old-school theatre, advertised by word of mouth only. Only those hip enough to know personally the Producer or vagrant enough to have nothing better to do are present. Tomorrow this show won't be performed. This moment, this happening, occurring here, right now, in this tiny theatre, one of millions of interiors, picked out, glowing brightly in this megalopolis that expands for miles, thousands of thousands of homes and dwellings, seen as tiny brilliant specks upon a blanket darkness, waiting, lying dormant under the night and the furious rain.
For the billions who are missing tonight's rendition, there will be no other chance to see it.
The show is good I think. At least, when relating my attendance to future persons I will embellish its greatness in accordance to I-was-there-at-the-time mythology.
It doesn't matter whether it is good or not.
Ours is the hour of the anecdote; our discourse perpetually indebted to the overheard and the (mis)interpretation of nuance. Our politics are tainted with nitpicking over the choice of words or a sideways glance. This is what counts as critical thinking in our mainstream news outlets.
Statistics and scientific evidence play no part in our mediated lives; just a Columnist's 'feeling' she had when she did something, sometime. Even those with apparent Progressive beliefs will too easily delve into their (limited) life experiences to deliver testaments to our country's current state of ruin.
Reality plays no part in the aggrandisement of mediated happenings.
If I was to apply for a loan to fund future performances of this play, the only thing the bank would be interested in would be takings (or potential takings from high attendance). In the real(ish) world of money lending, only real result will suffice. As a piece of culture, the low attendance can mean obscurity and possible mythological status. It is probably better no one has turned up.
And what is this?; what am I? Just another mistruth deceiving nobody with anecdotal zealousness.
The play goes on; I listen to the rain. Outside, the vicissitudes of ordinary existence self-perpetuate.
Over and out for now, guys!
xxx
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