Screening “Screaming Queens”
hasn’t happened yet.
It’s this Saturday (or
Sunday? My memory!), but
for the purposes of life, love
and the pursuit of having a
happy life: being social, empha-
sizing the 50th anniversary of
the riots, rainbows, unicorns,
colorful flags unflown worldwide
thanks to a dying mega-corp-
oration being run by a large
balloon full of greed and self-
ishness. And many other
awful things. Persistently
practicing empathy is, to me,
and by far, the demarcation
between adulthood and child-
hood. Most people never get
there (to adulthood). These
are things we learn. But the
show must go on, right? In this
case, a titular event is pre-
sented from me to you as just
a silly tongue-twister. Tongue.
Used in vocal warm-ups in
theatre. For actors. And mus-
icians; vocal talent. In general,
also, linguists love language.
Or a logical assumption, right?
These people love tongue, and
often take great care of their
own (tongues). The very best,
with practice, twist not only
tongues, but cognizance, hum-
or, culture; they often make a
mark more eloquently, more
fervently, more perfectly,
by using silly sequences of
words. Many people make
marks this way.... But this was
at first just an attempt at
being lighthearted when
my heart is not so very light.
That is not important.
I could stop there, but I’m also
thinking about the recurring
problem (generically, I would
assume, even among the most
eloquent) of the inability to
speak what one wants to say,
of stutterers or those of us with
pressured speech, of having
our words be completely mis-
understood or of having
them inadvertantly misrep-
resentative of intended mean-
ing. Each of these things
have affected me in pro-
found and personal ways.
This seems a normal road
for my thought processes
to travel, even as I have
no idea where I might be
going, which, as you may
or may not know, seems
to be normal for me (by
reputation), but, break-
ing news, most often
not purposefully.
What are tongue twisters
like in France? In Egypt?
in Ghana? In Guatemala?
In Iceland? In Sumatra?
I bet they exist every-
where, in every lang-
uage, providing humor
and who knows what
else. I could be
wrong. I often
am.
Have I gotten serious
again? The problem
of lightening the bur-
den, reducing the sev-
erity, helping oneself
emerge from serious
or even grim with a
bounce in one’s
step and a tingling
that works its way
up the spine like
goosebumps of the
innards.
Shall we now warm
up for that? Life
is to be enjoyed.
So, for now, repeat
after me, as the
performance is
about to begin:
Red leather,
yellow leather,
red leather,
yellow leather;
Many merry men
making much mon-
ey in the month of
May; Whether the
weather be cold
or whether the
weather be hot,
we’ll be toget-
her whatever the
weather, whether
we like it or not.
hasn’t happened yet.
It’s this Saturday (or
Sunday? My memory!), but
for the purposes of life, love
and the pursuit of having a
happy life: being social, empha-
sizing the 50th anniversary of
the riots, rainbows, unicorns,
colorful flags unflown worldwide
thanks to a dying mega-corp-
oration being run by a large
balloon full of greed and self-
ishness. And many other
awful things. Persistently
practicing empathy is, to me,
and by far, the demarcation
between adulthood and child-
hood. Most people never get
there (to adulthood). These
are things we learn. But the
show must go on, right? In this
case, a titular event is pre-
sented from me to you as just
a silly tongue-twister. Tongue.
Used in vocal warm-ups in
theatre. For actors. And mus-
icians; vocal talent. In general,
also, linguists love language.
Or a logical assumption, right?
These people love tongue, and
often take great care of their
own (tongues). The very best,
with practice, twist not only
tongues, but cognizance, hum-
or, culture; they often make a
mark more eloquently, more
fervently, more perfectly,
by using silly sequences of
words. Many people make
marks this way.... But this was
at first just an attempt at
being lighthearted when
my heart is not so very light.
That is not important.
I could stop there, but I’m also
thinking about the recurring
problem (generically, I would
assume, even among the most
eloquent) of the inability to
speak what one wants to say,
of stutterers or those of us with
pressured speech, of having
our words be completely mis-
understood or of having
them inadvertantly misrep-
resentative of intended mean-
ing. Each of these things
have affected me in pro-
found and personal ways.
This seems a normal road
for my thought processes
to travel, even as I have
no idea where I might be
going, which, as you may
or may not know, seems
to be normal for me (by
reputation), but, break-
ing news, most often
not purposefully.
What are tongue twisters
like in France? In Egypt?
in Ghana? In Guatemala?
In Iceland? In Sumatra?
I bet they exist every-
where, in every lang-
uage, providing humor
and who knows what
else. I could be
wrong. I often
am.
Have I gotten serious
again? The problem
of lightening the bur-
den, reducing the sev-
erity, helping oneself
emerge from serious
or even grim with a
bounce in one’s
step and a tingling
that works its way
up the spine like
goosebumps of the
innards.
Shall we now warm
up for that? Life
is to be enjoyed.
So, for now, repeat
after me, as the
performance is
about to begin:
Red leather,
yellow leather,
red leather,
yellow leather;
Many merry men
making much mon-
ey in the month of
May; Whether the
weather be cold
or whether the
weather be hot,
we’ll be toget-
her whatever the
weather, whether
we like it or not.
