Sunday, November 9, 2008

Sean Conlon's One-Man Show: How Multimedia Artistry and Understanding of Loneliness Totally Kills Ass

(This is a rough draft, so please grade on some kind of curve.)

Thesis: Sean Conlon wants to make you cry, and you should let him.

Synopsis: Last night I went up to Amherst with some friends to see The Pornography Diaries, Sean Conlon's Division 3 project for Hampshire College. We all know Sean well enough that we expected emotional catharsis, disturbingly sharp metaphorical and literal imagery, and splashes of dark humor sweetening but never overpowering his heartbreaking sincerity. We knew that there would be songs. We knew that there would be recordings of Sean's friends sharing their views on and experiences with sex, and that there would be projections of early 20th century television advertisements and pornography, and that we weren't going to know the difference between them (this we were told). We still weren't ready when it all hit us.

The Pornography Diaries attacks sex from every angle. We know that sex leads to love, and that love hurts, and that sex and love are both caused by chemical reactions, and that neither one is necessary to our survival, and that we still always want sex even though we're never satisfied, and that we still always want love even though it hurts, and that advertisements subvert our desire for sex and love so that we desire cheap crap that we need even less, and that sex can make life feel worth it, and that love can make sex feel the opposite of cheap--

but Sean takes all of these things that we know and are still unable to transcend, and he looks at all of them, and he cries, but he keeps looking, and then he makes you look too, and then you feel just as lost as you did the last time you loved somebody, and the only thing Sean does to comfort you is show you how lost he is too, but that's totally enough and everything seems worth it and stupid at the same time. It's a good feeling. Sean Conlon wants to make you cry, but it will feel good, so you should let him.


In less exciting news, I'm working on a pizza cheese alternative. What I did, after watching The Food Network in a hotel lobby this morning, was I grilled a banana (Food network says this is a good dessert with strawberries and cream); then I ground some walnuts, and mixed those together with basil, oregano, red pepper, and flour. It tasted pretty good, and it was at least squishy enough to resemble mozzarella. I think I'll mix in some almond milk next time (so it doesn't dry up in the oven) and pair it with a wine-rich sauce (so as to counterbalance the sweetness of banana).

Special thanks to Sarah, who recommended the almond milk.

1 comment:

Emily said...

Glad to know I wasn't the only one who cried along with him.