I’ve been thinking about rape lately. It’s mostly been spawning from finally getting a TV, which means I can watch all my favorite TV shows on a big screen, from my couch. And it’s been inspired by the conversation around a incestuous rape scene in this season of “Game of Thrones,” and, since this past Sunday, the lack of punishment for that rape. Now don’t get me wrong, “Game of Thrones”‘s unequal depiction of male and female nudity, and it’s willingness (even reveling) to depict sexual violence against women is what makes the show such a conversation starter, and I have no doubt that creators David Benioff and D. B. Weiss know that. Continue reading
My theory about why the primary audience for musical theater is women and gay men: it’s the only time in a woman’s life where she’s going to have a handsome man sing her a love song.
Musical theater is the land of the handsome singing men, and where every problem can be solved with a little compromise, love and some strategically placed dance numbers. It appeals to the inner romantic that, for reasons probably having to do with being beaten down by years of false promises and bad break-ups, has been forced to become hidden. And in most musicals that have not been written by Steven Sondheim, you can throw away your cynical, bullet-marked shell, and embrace the emotions and the fantasy. The fantasy that deep down inside, you kind of really want. And you’re not alone because there is a house full of hundreds of women who are sighing and crying and singing along right along with you. It’s the rare time in this cynical modern age where being sentimental is okay and expected (otherwise you’re just the critic ruining everybody’s good time).
What caused this realization? Steven Pasquale. Specifically, Steven Pasquale seducing Kelli O’Hara in the “Bridges of Madison County” on Broadway. And me, despite the cynicism that I have after dating in New York City, listening to the song below on repeat for the last two weeks. Damn you Jason Robert Brown.
I moved to New York City in 2011 with three suitcases worth of clothes, my laptop, and some pots and pans. Having to deal with New York real estate and the tiny apartments (and lack of central heat or air), I learned how to live simply and to not be afraid of throwing things out. That partially explains why I am the only theater-lover who almost never keep Playbills. Then again, I was never a sentimental type.
That is why when I decided to revamp my website (two years too late, I have to admit), I debated whether or not I wanted to bring my posts from my old Diep Thought blog along with me. That blog was hosted on Blogger, where the templates were few and impossible to reconfigure so that the whole thing didn’t just look like a teenager’s first blog. I had originally started Diep Thought in 2010 when I went to graduate school, as a way for my family in California to keep up with my daily life on the opposite coastline.
From there, it grew many faces. It had some theater reviews, some food recipes, some random lists and a writer who was steadily figuring out what her voice was and what kind of voice she wanted to display on the web. Which brings us to now, to this website, to this new version of “Diep Thought,” or as I like to call “Diep Thought 2.0.” I want to streamline it, post more essays and less, “this is what I did today.”
If you still want to visit my old blog, and the old posts, it’s still there at diepthought.blogspot.com. But for now, it’s a new year, a new season (turn, turn, turn), and I have some new thoughts. I hope you’ll join me on this thought train. It’s going to be a leisurely ride.