I do sooo beg to differ. Appropriately, that was Classic.
Well my liberal angst detective play is going to be about Tyrannosaurus Rex.
Or you could take a cue from Tom Lehrer:
Would somebody please set up a “How Pretentious Are You?” index? Because I’ve used “juxtaposition” in casual conversation and I’m afraid I might score really high.
Yet I don’t drink wine or read plays. So maybe I’ll score really low.
Someone, validate me, please!
Will the plot be resolved by a Dinosaurus Ex Machina?
Well, there’s the Please help me to be pretentious thread…
[pretentious matronly tone] When I was in Paris in the summer of '83[/pmt]
Seriously, I was in Paris for a week in '83, and I went to the ballet one evening. Can’t recall which one - sorry. I do recall the man sitting next to me. Throughout the performance, he let go such heartfelt utterances as “Incroyable!” and “C’est magnifique!” and a few more that I’ve forgotten. I’m no expert on ballet by any means, and while it was a good performance, I doubt it merited such praise.
Come intermission, he spoke aloud to his companion. In English. With one of the thickest Texas twangs I’ve ever heard! Yep, that boy was just ever so slightly pretentious…
Well, today there was a clutch of Upper-Class Brits discussing Orson Welles, but I wasn’t close enough to overhear any pretentious tidbits (and there must have been some doozies).
I did see John “Lypsinka” Epperson coming into Lincoln Center just as I was leaving, though!
You would get nowhere near Eve’s experience. After all…
You start off with *liberal angst. Now, being aware of liberal angst, that’s just in the upper half of the “perfectly respectable” standard deviation of the pretentiousness curve, if normalized for an urban sample. BUT actually verbalizing it in conversation puts it over the threshold. You don’t go around telling people “I’ve got liberal angst” unless you’re trying to have them say “wow, this guy has liberal angst!”. Would this person go around telling people he has a phimosis of the prepuce? I don’t think so.
Then, it will lead to an adaptation of Oedipus Rex. Not “of Oedipus” or “of the story of Oedipus”. He’s making it clear he knows the right title – and that he does not mean any of the other parts of the trilogy. Only in the first SD of pretentiousness, sure… but…
Pretentiousness is not additive but multiplicative.
And on top of that, each of these two base factors is then exponentiated by the two qualifiers:
He said he’s going to be channelling the liberal angst. Here we have, first, a Conspicuous Proper Usage of Word, and second, the object of the channelling is the liberal angst so he is proclaiming that he is going to inflict his liberal angst on the rest of us in a directed fashion, as if we cared.
And it’s going to be a detective play. Not a short story, not a novel, not a rock opera… a PLAY. A DETECTIVE play. Now, as mentioned, this creates a redundancy because O.R. is a murder mystery, plus we’re talking about using an idiom that requires performers and directors to mediate between the author and the audience, thus multiplying the steps of the channelling unnecessarily. So that part of the exponent is either pretentious or gay. And it being NY we have to go with pretentious since gay would be if it were a detective musical. 
Plus, it took place in the research library at Lincoln Center, pushing it to a “ten out of ten” on the Pretentiousness Scale.
No no no… you’ve missed the point entirely. Sophocles’ work utilized an entirely different narrative form, which is in no wise comparable to the detective genre. In order to make the adaptation, the key plot points must be removed from their context of linear relation, and recast using a series of extradiagetic analepsis.
What the…? I’m sure I wasn’t wearing a turtleneck when I came in here.
I think we’re missing something here. Since we are in the aftermath of a hotly contested election, and since liberal angst centers on the occupant of the White House, what we have here is a man planning to write a play in which Barbara Bush bones her son George.
The only mystery the detective will be asked to solve is the miraculous disappearance of the audience when they realize what they’re about to witness.
Just reading about it has made me lose my will to live.
In an attempt to cheer things up, this seems as good a place as any to mention that I saw what appeared to be a bona fide Society Dowager the other day. Quite a rare sight in College Town, USA (I’m home for the holidays). I was standing in line at the grocery store to pick up my film, and out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw a Goth Chick approaching. [li] I glanced to the side and was surprised to instead see a stern, matronly woman dressed in a wide-brimmed black hat, long black velvet coat with a large diamond broach, diamond necklance, silver bracelets, and black gloves. She did not have a monocle or lorgnette, but she was staring imperiously at nothing. She didn’t speak, but I imagine her thoughts were something like “A queue? Well, I never!”[/li]
[*]A reasonable assumption in College Town, USA, although I have been wrong before. Once in a secondhand bookstore I was surprised to realize that the person beside me in the long black dress with the crucifix was not a Goth Chick but a Catholic priest!
[QUOTE=Lamia]
I saw what appeared to be a bona fide Society Dowager the other day. Quite a rare sight in College Town, USA (I’m home for the holidays). I was standing in line at the grocery store to pick up my film, and out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw a Goth Chick approaching. [li] I glanced to the side and was surprised to instead see a stern, matronly woman dressed in a wide-brimmed black hat, long black velvet coat with a large diamond broach, diamond necklance, silver bracelets, and black gloves. She did not have a monocle or lorgnette, but she was staring imperiously at nothing. She didn’t speak, but I imagine her thoughts were something like “A queue? Well, I never!”[/li][/QUOTE]
–Ah, it has begun. My army of Imperious Dowagers will now conquer de vorld!
Das Testament von Helen Hokinson?
I for one welcome our new Imperious Dowager Overladies.
:eek: The horror! The horror! Imperious Dowagers watching our every move, staring down at us through their lorgnettes and uttering “Well, Really!” every time we make a wrong move! :eek: The horror of it all!
Response: "Assuming no synthesis between prose and ideology, save perhaps, in the dialectic between meaning and chance, I don’t see how you can come to any conclusion other than that Oedipus was a conservative. "
Someone who makes Helen Hokinson jokes? Marry me, and I shall become the Queen of Soup!
Eve, there’s already a Queen, two Princesses and a Prince of Soup, but I’ll be happy to continue admiring you from afar.
Helen Hokinson was a fine artist as well as a great cartoonist and a pretty funny writer. Her *So You Want to Buy a Book * is one of my favorite titles ever. And of course she almost singlehandedly invented the American Dowager trope, which has survived almost unchanged for seventy years. Her name is not well-known anymore, but her work continues to have a claim on our conciousness.