So back to the Machine today, whose insides after a week of uninterrupted construction have now been turned to stone, and whose outsides bizarrely sport - in just the latest of a number of unconscious nods to Synecdoche NY - exactly the same lamps as my new place.
Was progress made in rehearsals today? I don't know. So many elephants in the room, so few of them earning their keep in the manner of the fall of the Second Empire (being digested). I did raise the question "Are there any plans to get an actor to play this part we know we have but don't yet have an actor for?" and I think it was generally agreed that that might be a good idea. The part now going is that of a feral child. My knee hurts. Nigel diagnosed that as being 34. I didn't ask our director his opinion. He was in Portland Place cupping Robbie William's balls.
Thence to the last Recording of That Mitchell and Webb Sound where my unvoiced plans for a sketch about a kid's show starring Christopher Hitchens were startlingly upset by a sketch Rob performed about a kid's show starring Christopher Hitchens. I felt I'd come home to an empty tub of Strawberry Cheesecake unable to remember whether or not it was mine. Well that's that anyway, no more sketch-writing for a while so Harrumble (although actually this last session has been something of a blast, still it will be nice to see what happens next). And for those who missed it on Thursday here's the gang in happier times:
Yeh momma, I wrote that. And I admit to being smitten by absolutely every aspect of it, so thanks to youtube illegalers "goldsaq" and "felixulyssesmeritus" for getting it out there although none of you seem yet to have uploaded "Jan Hankl's Patent Flankpat" - oh no, HANG ON, oh no what's this:
Lots Of Love. Does that mean I done a meme?
... coming up this Thursday: Giant Death Ray Sketch.