Why Am I Here?
I'm beginning to wonder. Haven't I learned my lesson yet? How thick is my skull? By the end of The Sweet Lowdown, I was ready to crawl under my bed and never come out again. Message bedamned. No one wants the message, I learned.
After one performance, an audience member told me: I learned a lot I didn't want to know.
What I learned was to what lengths people will go not to know it. At first, they looked at me as if I were mental, slow. "Everybody knows...," they assured me. Each time I tried to haul out the scientific research to the contrary, they would start sharpening their weapons. I delete posts I've made on the DOC until I've finally removed myself from the group altogether.
Terrorize someone else and for that brief time one's own terror fades. But only briefly. Then the terror returns. Augusto Boal
The Sweet Lowdown was born of a desire to free people from that terror. I naively believed that they would prefer to know the complex interplay of physiologic factors. The Truth would set us all free from the shame and blame.
People prefer simplicity. Black and white, no grey. The old ways. Others can dodge, deflect. It's ancient, pagan. Live a righteous life and no evil will befall. Appease the angry gods by pointing them toward someone else less worthy. Flagellate oneself for one's sins, lest the gods do worse. Gluttony. Sloth. Licentiousness. Pleasure. Everything has a price. Except for those who are beloved.
Some days I don't leave the house.
Some days I don't leave my couch.
The underside of the bed is looking better and better.
I can't fight any longer.
I'm old and fragile and some days it takes all my strength to get from morning to evening and through the night. If the rest of the world wants to believe this is a Lifestyle disease, prevented, reversed, controlled, whatever, sobeit. I'll be with the dust bunnies, reading the latest research.