Hang Your Shingle

Just yesterday I found a list that someone had put together of many, many grammatical and spelling errors in Facebook posts and status updates and their (often cleverly humorous) corrections. One of the most interesting things about the whole list was the number of times the offending writer didn't actually realize they were being corrected - they couldn't see their own errors as mistakes! Then they would get upset when people kept commenting on their posts or status updates with either witty rejoinders or continued corrections. At times, the chains reached nearly epic proportions, fueled almost solely by incredible personal blindness.

I have a theory about theatre, which is that actors SHOULD be the most well-adjusted, socially adept, mentally stable group of people on the planet (yes, I hear you laughing) since their preferred occupation involves free therapy in the form of 'role-playing' and experiencing other people's lives and challenges in as realistic a manner as possible. Every rehearsal, every performance, they have the opportunity to vicariously blow off all kinds of steam and aggravation, to nearly completely understand the full consequences of any set of bad decisions - and then leave it all behind and go home to their 'normal' lives. The strangest part of this theory, really, is that for the most part it just doesn't work. It's as though the world of the theatre, instead of aiding and relating back to the 'real' world (for most actors), actually stands alone and is only dealt with by separating from the 'real' world to enter into the 'theatre' world. This allows actors to refuse to learn anything from the lives that they are portraying on stage, and go on being as neurotic and self-absorbed as they'd like in their non-work lives.

As I said, it's just a theory, and naturally it doesn't apply to every actor.

Likewise, I have a theory that many people are out there treating the Interwebs as though they are a completely separate world, that the things they do and say online have no real bearing on their actual daily lives - which leads to complete shock and non-comprehension when someone takes them to task for simple things like, say, spelling and grammar. It's almost as though online communication doesn't really rely on writing, but rather that the words will rise osmotically from the computer and imbed meaning directly into your brain without needing to stop for things like accepted forms of logical comprehension. It can be really funny to watch.

Consider, though, the number of times you've heard someone get upset over an e-mail - current belief is that much online communication is inferior because it does not allow for body language and other physical cues to carry meaning. While it's true the physical element is missing, what is present is the opportunity to carefully craft messages to distribute the greatest possible meaning. I've never understood how people can 'vent' or 'rant' in an e-mail and then just push 'send' - if you have the chance to tell someone exactly what you think or feel, why would you not take the time to review and edit and make sure you're saying exactly what you mean? I've received e-mails that leave me entirely certain that what was written was not what was meant, but I'm still a little confused since that is what was actually said.

To sum up: Spelling and grammar are important, because they determine just how intelligent other people perceive you to be. If you don't care if people think you're a redneck moron, be aware that you will be seeing comments that make corrections, because your friends are well-meaning or because they think you're too dumb to know they're making fun of you. You either need new friends, or you need to do a quick review of whatever you've typed before you hit 'share'. (Or possibly both.)

One last note: Pay attention to what you really want from your online interaction, or you won't get it. I knew someone once who posted provoking things on his blog, and then reverted to extraordinarily childish behavior when people questioned his statements. I have no problems with a good reasoned debate - when the response is "I didn't want to read what you wrote about what I said because I don't think you're worth my time" you might as well take your ball and go home. The excuse "it's my blog so I'll say what I want to" is completely true, of course, but if you're not willing to let other people respectfully (or not so respectfully, whatever your format) discuss what you've said than the Web is probably not the place for you. Virtual reality is just that - virtual - and it's continued existence depends on the contribution of the community. If you don't at least acknowledge the standards and norms of behavior and communication, you might as well unplug - or go set up your own reality and spend time developing new personalities. Without manners, they're the only ones who will be willing to listen to you.

And by 'listen', I mean 'read'. Duh.

Ch-ch-ch-changes...

This post from the Guardian's theatre blog asks about the necessity for theatre practitioners to fully warn audience members about the physical effects of a performance. Interesting question, and something I had not previously considered; I've thought about the kinds of things audiences should be warned about before they engage in a performance, but never that there might be things that will happen as a result of a show and must be dealt with later. To a large extent, changing an audience member's life in some way is an ideal goal of theatre - a related question to the article might be considering how much of that change is deliberately physical, and how much is physical by default. (Again, something I'd never before thought to think about.)

My question for this format is: how might the idea of a physical shift be applied to an online theatre context? Has anyone had an Internet theatre experience that resulted in a recognizable physical response and lingers once the event has finished? How could that idea be incorporated as a target?

I'm thinking of movies and videos that leave me feeling good, energized; that induce a recurrence of that feeling whenever I think about it for next few days. There is a particular song I know that always makes me cry every time I hear it, commercials and video clips that consistently choke me up - the song always takes me by surprise, even when I know it's coming (the videos can at least sometimes be attributed to the fact that I'm a sap). There was a clip that circulated about a... er, 'medical' situation - it turned my stomach, and continues to give a twinge in memory. I think that the theatrical 'change' is ideally more complicated/complex, more intellectual, more interested in affecting behavior rather than triggering tear ducts or a gag reflex - how do those things happen in traditional theatre, and can the same principles carry over into the online performance space?

I'll start looking for Internet performances, and let you know what I find.