Pete

This music is piercing my skin. I lie half-awake in the corner of a dingy night club in a foreign country. The bass shakes my limbs. The rising tempo quickens my heart. I feel helpless and alive.
Jeremy said this place was good. I turn my head to the left, I see people like me, people not relaxed, but stewing. Stewing in this mass of noise and bodies. They appear less panicked than I feel. I want to stand, but everything's so heavy. I remember the phone call I made to my sister this morning. I came here to get away from the emotion, but in this place everything is bigger than life.

"Carmen. She said her name was Carmen. I'll never forgive her."

"Good. Does it help, to talk?"

"No. I want to leave."

"Leave."

Pete leaves. He doesn't go back. He takes the same road home he always does. There are sheep on the road, he pushes the horn and they scurry through the hedge. He almost forgets to continue driving, the solitude of country roads make time seem meaningless. He fights back tears, and accelerates.

He pulls into the driveway, hears the gravel crunch under the tyres. He parks, and exits the vehicle. He sees a pale figure at the end of the lawn. The figure isn't there. Nobody is. Nobody comes this far out of town, especially this late at night. Pete blinks. The figure remains.
"Hello?" he asks.
The figure doesn't respond. Doesn't move even. A strange glow surrounds the figure. The car's lights go out. Although there are no other sources of light, no lights on in the house, an empty sky, the figure is still visible.
"Hello?" Pete asks, again, "Can you hear me?"
The figure turns. The figure is Pete.
"Hello?" Pete asks, "Can you hear me?"
Pete doesn't know how to respond.
"What..?"
"What..?"
Pete rushes to the door, scared, and grasps his keys, fumbling with the lock. Pete watches. Pete is inside, now. He slams the door and reaches in the dark for the light switch. The room is illuminated. Pete is sitting at the table. He sees Pete enter in a hurry, and smiles.
"Hello Pete. Welcome home. Dinner's on."
Pete sees Pete sitting at the table. He notices the table is laid for four. Pete is standing over the oven. Pete flushes the toilet upstairs. Pete stands frozen.
"Pete?"
Pete stutters. He drops to his knees.
"Pete? Are you okay?"
He mumbles and shakes.
"Pete. Are you okay?"
He lays down. His breathing slowly returns to normal.
"Pete?"
"Yes Pete?"
"Am I.. dead?"
"No Pete. I'm not dead."
"No. I can see that. Am I dead though?"
"No Pete. I'm not dead."
Pete is upstairs. He gets into bed.
Pete stands up. "I'm tired. Can I have a glass of milk?"
Pete gets Pete a glass of milk from the fridge, hands it to him.
Pete takes a sip. "Thank you, Pete."
"No worries, Pete. Pete's just made your bed up in the guest room, if that's okay with you?"
"Cheers Pete. Goodnight."
Pete climbs the stairs. Pete watches on. Pete feels the soft carpet under his bare feet, brushes open the door in the dark, feels around for the bed, and climbs in.
"Night Pete."

Carmen

click.
"Hi.. Jenny?"
"Pete, is that you?"
"Yeah."
a pause.
"What's up?"
"I… I'm sorry for not calling."
"That's fine. What's up?"
"It's Lucy. She's.. gone."
"The lesbian?"
"Don't call her that."
"She left her wife for you. Her wife. She was married to a woman. That doesn't mean anything to you?"
"She's… she told me her new girlfriend is called Carmen."
"Carmen, what kind of a stupid name is that?"
"I really don't know. I just don't feel myself now she's gone."
"Weren't you only together for a couple of months?"
"Three months. And… eight days, I think."
"Brother, you're sad."
"I know."
a pause.
"I need to tell you something."
"What?"
"I'm Carmen."
"You're what?"
"Carmen."
a pause.
Pete hangs up the receiver.

"I don't give a fuck what he thinks about politics! He's an artist!"

We decided to be a part of history, and this is what happened.

Please tell me you're human episode 0.5: Election Special

What the hell is that creepy laugh? dammit. Something's afoot. Welcome to episode 0.5 of Please Tell Me You're Human this time featuring all three hosts Ben, Jack and Story! Tonight we're covering Channel 4's alternative election coverage. How original. After Jack's drunken mother sabotages the first three attempts, the show gets off to a slightly garbled start, with a bit of swearing and impatience.

Our heroes soon tire of the election coverage however, and drift off subject. We learn Charlie Brooker's real name, how annoying Edwina Currie really is, and just how tasty Disaronno is too. We then delve into the murky depths of Story's political tastes. Good old Tory Story did indeed vote Conservative, just because he wanted to be different and edgy. He has a rant. We might make ranting a prominent feature. Dictators don't deliver on their promises? Genius. And then Story slags off the immense power of Facebook and then denies being a, well, profanity. He also determines the percentage of the population who are in fact the same profanity. After a slight hiccup, we're back, trying to harmonise. We soon realise this is a bad idea. Ben lets us know his stance on politics, (Lib Dems!) although he believes firmly in the Socialist/Trade Union party. He also voted for our Green Party councillor and explains the voting process to Story. We also discuss the merits of ticking or crossing your ballot paper. We then dissect Jimmy Carr, who is pretty average when you think about it. We also realise the futility of making a live report on a live report on a podcast. Nick Griffin appears, but then disappears soon. We don't get the funny funny joke. We mention Twitter. Ben gains 60 years for about two seconds. We check the BBC's coverage and determine it is much more useful. Ben explains some more politics. 326 seats or something. Story is sarcastic. Jack demands a political standpoint. Although he didn't vote, because he's too disorganised and is in France at the time of recording. We also discuss the merits of a hung parliament: happy peace and nice, yeah? We're either going German or going Greek. Scary stuff. Story shows his general apathy. Ben's TV breaks, and none of us can see the coverage any more. Oh well. Story reveals that politics is the ONLY area in which he is not a master. Jack reveals an interest in gay rights, and Ben does something shocking. Story considers covering It's Raining Men. We compare ourselves to Doctor Who. Ben is moving in his chair. We.. don't know why. Story laments; he has no furniture. We discuss our general dislike of coffee.

Stuff happens. Hopefully this'll give you a taste.

I'll get back to proper blogging soon. This podcast is taking up all my time, and I'm loving it. By the way, I made a blog for that, too. http://pleasepodcastme.tumblr.com

Lounge

A woman who looks like she enjoys running face-first into brick walls holds the hand of a slicked-back schmoozer, fingertips at her waist, caressing, enticing her towards the plate glass doors of John Lennon airport's VIP lounge.
He teases and beckons, whispering lies and perfect half-truths, and she's loving it. She feels special.
He feels empty.
This is the fourth time for him. Second for her.
They both know what's coming to them in the dark corners of the lounge.
As they spill into the room, they stand frozen, all eyes upon them. They hear barely disguised laughter, jibes and hushed voices.
Heads down, they head to the man's reserved alcove.
She unbuttons his shirt. He undoes her bra.
She stops. Silence.

then--
          "What?" he asks, eyes wide

                   "You're wearing a vest?"

                                  She leaves.
                                                    He stays.

"Please tell me you're talking to a human being..."

So we decided (or I decided) to finally actually try recording a podcast test last night, and it turned into over an hour's worth of rambling. Although the audio setup took me bloody ages to work out, I'm pretty impressed with the results. If anyone wants to give this a serious go, get in touch! (Although Ben, we're going to work on these when I get back from France next week!)
This took 1hr 30 to record, and three hours to edit. Damn... we do sound a bit less thick though.

Please Tell Me... test #1
2010: A Podcast Odyssey featuring Jack and Story

We discuss podcasting, Kick Ass, Iron Man 2, Doctor Who, Twitter and Tweets, Perez and Paris Hilton, sex noises, Emoticons, Story offends Asia, Blogging, Star Wars and "literally killing small children", Indiana Jones, sound systems, sleeping your way to wealth, comic books, Firefly, BEING REJECTED BY SOCIETY, Watchmen being a proper book, Sci-Fi, Avatar, 90210, soaps, macs being better than PCs, food, sore earphones, the opposite of comfort, pop shields, the Logitech vs. Apple debate, Sony and China, Fallout and the end of the world, Terminator, 2001: A Space Odyssey for a very long time, House of Sand and Fog, then back to 2001, then Story does a quick explanation of the film, then Wayne calls, then back to 2001, ascension, seeing things in the dark, "space is just infinite", noise in space, wrapping up, Wayne gets confused, what're we gonna call this?, 2010: a podcast odyssey LAME, "please tell me you're talking to a human being". I dunno. Make your own mind up.

If you could listen to this, I'd like feedback. Obviously more focus would be nice. But yeah. Help. Thanks.

I kinda find I like a life this lonely

Guys! I failed the audition spectacularly. Forgot my lines, mumbled a lot, and actually tripped over at one point. It was shocking. Perhaps more shocking, The Manchester College told us that they'd fallen out with Manchester University, who were previously funding the place and presenting the diplomas at the end of the course. So, after being kicked out of Manchester Uni, College ran over to Leeds Metropolitan University and now, I would have been awarded a nice shiny piece of paper signed by them. Which, let's face it, is a step down from Manchester University.  (I'm not denying that I'm probably not cut out for the Acting in Media course over there. It's probably a very good course. Just not for me. [Or anyone who ever wants a job ever.]) Oh, and everyone else did really grand, pompous Shakespeare speeches. I'm a fool for trying to find a character which would reveal something about my life, personality, whatever. There were some shockingly bad actors there, and I can't really say much because I forgot my lines. There were also some semi-decent actors there, who were all called back for a little interview at the end. And I'm not going to mention equal opportunities or anything, but...

And then there's this Radio Production And Media Studies course over at Chester University, Warrington campus. And as I'm interested in all this audio editing, live broadcasting and podcast stuff (although I've never actually done any of it), this course seems much, much more interesting and stuff. Stop typing stuff.

Pretty much since failing the audition (they didn't tell me on the day that I'd failed. I knew.) I've been doing pretty much nothing. Work have given me a free three-week paid holiday (not just me. all the staff. I just wanted to make it sound better.) so I'm going to TRY and buy a decent microphone and actually do something with all the spare time.

I'm going to do a review of an album soon. Be warned. This album has inspired me since I first heard it. Probably about four and a half years ago, I think. How To Destroy A Relationship by The Servant. Somehow, it's one of the few shiny albums that I haven't yet forced down my friends' throats.

I'm going to get my hair cut. I'm going to try something new and different. But I'll probably end up with the same hair again. Then I'm off to Glasgow with @OiCecil and @boojamin to see trendy band Crystal Antlers. Don't ask.

Tuesday

Although I'm likely to be sued for this blog post (I'm guessing somewhere in the £200,000 region), this is the extract from Chatroom which I will be auditioning with on Tuesday. Oh yeah! I'm going to Manchester, got an audition at Manchester college on Acting for Theatre, Television and Radio (sounds awful) and an open day at Manchester Metropolitan on Wednesday.

aha. I do not claim any ownership of this text blah and blah.
Jim is a troubled teenager who pretty much wants to kill himself, and goes to an online chatroom for some support. After some funny exchanges, a dude called William tries to convice Jim to kill himself. Laura is a girl who tried to kill herself a while ago, and has been trying to put Jim off the whole idea. Because, let's face it, it's pretty silly. This bit is basically William shouting at Laura near the end of the play. You'll be able to grasp the rest.

WILLIAM: You've tried to kill yourself before, but chickened out, haven't you? You think I'm going to allow Jim to be lectured by some whinging coward like you? Some New Age, happy-clappy princess? Jim's got real problems.
You're one of those sad girls who hangs out in suicide chatrooms. Who sits there like some black hole. All silent and dumb and soaking up the sad stories. Wallowing in other peoples' pain. What statement are you making, bitch? You talk about a life of possibilities, choice, love, happiness... but I bet you'd like nothing more than a bunch of sad, morose fifteen-year-olds draining on about their pathetic lives. Well, why not support those who want to kill themselves? Why not allow them to do it? They're like the front line, aren't they? The public face of our gloom, printed in the papers and shown on the telly! They need our support to do the brave thing - do the decent thing. To get rid of the chaff and make a true revolutionary teenager! So do the decent thing, you worthless cow! Next time, don't cry out to Mummy and Daddy! Just do it!

mhm, it's probably not long enough, but with enough dramatic pauses I'm sure I can make it work. The play is by Enda Walsh, and is an okay read (although at 38 pages and full of printing errors, I think £9 is a little cheeky).

My second monologue (I should have learnt these months ago. The audition is in three days.) comes from Much Ado About Nothing. I only found it tonight, so wish me good luck.

BENEDICK: O, she misused me past the endurance of a block! An oak but with one green leaf on it would have answered her; my very visor began to assume life and scold with her. She told me, not thinking I had been myself, that I was the Prince's jester, that I was duller than a great thaw; huddling jest upon jest with such impossible conveyance upon me that I stood like a man at a mark, with a whole army shooting at me. She speaks poniards, and every word stabs. If her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her; she would infect the North Star. I would not marry her though she were endowed with all that Adam had left him before he transgressed. She would have made Hercules have turned spit, yea, and have cleft his club to make the fire too. Come, talk not of her. You shall find her the infernal Ate in good apparel. I would to God some scholar would conjure her, for certainly, while she is here, a man may live as quiet in hell as in a sanctuary; and people sin upon purpose, because they would go thither; so indeed all disquiet, horror, and perturbation follows her.
Will your Grace command me and service to the world's end? I will go on the slightest errand now to the Antipodes that you can devise to send me on: I will fetch you a tooth-picker now from the furtherest inch of Asia: bring you the length of Prester John's foot: fetch you a hair off the great Cham's beard: do you any embassage to the Pigmies, rather than hold three words conference with this Harpy: you have no employment for me?

This is also slightly too short, but whatever...
Thanks for any Shakespeare recommendations, and I swear I really did try acting some of them, but I chose this as it's not quite as grand as other pieces (and here I'm talking specifically about the St. Crispin's Day speech) and it's comedyish and all that. yeah.