     | september 8, 2010
|
 | |
| | |
| september 8, 2010
|
| |
  |
Moses on Moses Itamar Moses -- 11/09/2005  [ 1 ][ 2 ][ 3 ]Yes. Then I went to grad school. Mostly so I could stop temping. I got my MFA at New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts Graduate Dramatic Writing Program. That’s actually not even the full name, there’s something about an Institute for Film and Television in there, too. And somebody’s name. Maybe two people’s names. I think one of them is Maurice. I am not kidding about any of this. Then what? Mostly writing. Doing it, or teaching it. I also did a lot of SAT tutoring over the next couple of years. These darling teenagers in Park Slope, or on the Upper West Side, and their nutty nutty parents. Like, really crazy parents, who are so hopelessly confused about what message to send their kids, so they send them all, like: “Your grades don’t matter, your score doesn’t matter, just learn and be true to yourself, but we’re paying a lot for this tutor, so you better do well.” That kind of thing. That’s the second series of essays I won’t write. Anyway, by now, I’ve transferred over to an entirely playwriting based economy. Which is unfortunate, because now I have no more excuses. So, in preparation for this interview, I came up with some anagrams of your name. Uh. Okay. Why don’t I just read some of them, and you just react, free associatively. I don’t know what that means, but go for it. Okay, here goes: SAMOSA TIMER. When I go to an Indian restaurant, I do tend to order a samosa, as an appetizer. And I do like the idea of a timer so hyper-specific that it can only be used in the preparation of samosas. Maybe it would be in the shape of a samosa. And instead of “ding!” a recorded voice would say, “Would you like a garlic Nan with that?” Um: EMITS AROMAS. Mostly Old Spice, though. I AM SO MASTER. Well, not of English, obviously. I also like how vague that is, like there’s no indication of what you’re claiming to be a master of. Just that, whatever you’ve mastered, you’ve very very mastered it. So to speak. And finally: MIASMA STORE. You mean Ikea? Seriously, have you ever noticed how, when couples go to Ikea, one of them always breaks down crying? The next time you’re at an Ikea, find a couple, and watch them from a distance for twenty minutes. One of them will start to cry. It’s because that place makes you feel like you’re supposed to be planning you’re entire life together in the time it takes to walk through the store, and the human psyche cannot handle that. In further preparation for this interview, I also googled myself. Wow. That’s kind of pathetic. Shut up. I’m just saying. Maybe if you googled yourself every once in a while you wouldn’t be so tense. I’m not tense. Do I look tense? The point is, some interesting things came up. Like really bad reviews of your plays from around the country. I’m going to read you some samples, and give you the opportunity to react. Ready? end of page 4 [ 4 ] read more ... [ 5 ][ 6 ][ 7 ] |
