"so the madman has struck!"
Still shot from Tom Stoppard's play: The Real Inspector Hound (1968). One of the most fabulous reads of late for me (thank you 20th century Brit Lit), Stoppard (genius screen-writer as well) writes a murder-mystery-thriller parlour whodunnit that parodies similiar plays of the genre like Agatha Christie's The Mousetrap, thought processes that go into the making of such plays, and even the pompous theatre critics, exposing the farce and at times, ridiculousness that go into theatre. Hilarious and interesting- coming from a person who has only read and loved Shakespeare, The Crucible, and Wilde in her life. So go pick it up! It's short and terribly interesting, I swear. One will go through slight amusement, laughter, confusion, very confused surprised, more confusion, and an ending worthy of a second read.
Quick excerpt (for those who care):
Birdboot: where's Higgs?
Moon: I'm standing in.
Moon and Birdboot: Where's Higgs?
Moon: Every time.
Birdboot: What?
Moon: It is as if we only existed one at a time, combining to achieve continuity. I keep space warm for Higgs. My presence defines his absence, his absence confirms my presence, his presence precludes mine... When Higgs and i walk down this aisle together to claim our common seat, the oceans will fall into the sky and the trees with hang with fishes.
Birdboot: [He has not been paying attention, looking around vaguely, now catches up] Where's Higgs?
So reads my weekends nowadays. Catch up on my texts for the week's lecture (a whopping average of 3 books per weekend! sigh) + be dutifully impressed/mention text on blog, have quick prata suppers, plan chill movie marathons, and look forward to December. At least NUS has taught me the beauty, skill and Godsend of speedreading. Makes everything so much easier, really.
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