Universal Oddities
October 10, 2002

Jacques’s Play Hits Broadway!!!
Stupidity has a new name!
And it’s spelled in exactly the same fashion!
But maybe without the “S”
So it’s “tupidity”
Unless the “S” is still in there,
Which would kind of be stupid.

Location: The Producers Club on Theatre Row, 358 West 44th Street (Between 8th & 9th).
Subway: Times Square Station - A, C, E, S, N, R, Q, W, 1, 2, 3, 7, 9
Performance Dates: Running from October 17th through November 3rd, 2002. Thursdays through Saturdays at 7:00 PM and Sundays at 3:00 PM.


Yes! You heard right! Jacques’s play is going to be on Broadway!

Well... off-Broadway.

Well... off-off Broadway.

Okay, maybe it’s playing in an alleyway behind a pizza parlor, inside a dumpster. But the dumpster is very cozy, and smells kind of nice, like banana. Happy bananas!

It’s a murder mystery and everyone is invited to attend. We’re actually going to be killing off someone from the audience! Some lucky spectator, spared from the arduousness and tumults of life. Unless the cops find out about it, in which case we will probably not do that.

In the event that murder is outlawed, we will call the play The Glass House and not kill people.

It will also be shown alongside another play which is highly depressing. Perhaps you’ve thought of killing yourself but just haven’t been able to scrounge up the momentum. Come see the play being shown alongside Jacques’s play and you’ll be supplied with all of the depressing, emotional morbidity you can handle!

One play will confuse while the other will make you want to kill yourself. It’s like we’re putting the gun in your hands and all you have to do is pull the trigger! You can’t beat that for $18 folks! ($15 for students) ($20 for hermits)

I’d like to detail and discuss the play in greater depth, but I don’t really remember writing it. But I did wake up and find it on my computer one day, a while ago. That leads me to believe that someone wrote it.

So, as I can’t remember a damn thing about the play itself, I’ll just restate the promotional blurb that came with it:

In The Glass House, a young man searching for a place of belonging arrives at a residence to find its inhabitants living in a transparent house. From there, the man’s task becomes to judge for himself whether or not the house truly exists; if it is simply a creation of its inhabitants’ imaginations, or perhaps something more.

That sounds amazing! Just imagine a really deep voice reading it as a film preview in the movie theater.

Voice: A young man...

Voice: Searching...

Voice: For a place of belonging...

Voice: Until... he meets a girl... who will change his life forever.


Sting and Music (allegro): Every little thing she does is magic, everything she do just turns me on...

Voice: This winter...

Sting and (more) Music (allegro): Even though my life before was tragic...

Voice: From the people who brought you Terms of Endearment, Notting Hill, and Dumb & Dumber, comes a comedy of manners that will leave you laughing...

[Picture of guy running into wall.]

Voice: That will leave you breathless.

[Picture of guy kissing girl and then running into wall.]

Voice: And that may just warm your hearts.

[Picture of thermonuclear explosion followed by guy running into wall.]

Winter 2002

I would not let anything stand in my way to see that! Even if poison gas was being leaked into the theater and you could only safely sit in the theater for 37 minutes before your life was in danger, I would simply not be able to extricate myself. I’d be kind of sit-standing over the chair, hovering, ready to bolt, but I’d be in that limbo state of not really wanting to leave.

So who knows? Maybe I’ll just die watching the play.

And since I’m going to die, I’ll probably just pee on myself because there’d be no reason to go to the bathroom anymore. But then sitting around in your own pee is kind of uncomfortable, I’m sure, so I’ll probably end up leaving to change my pants. In which case I suppose I won’t die after all. Unless I take that rationalization into account and then realize I’ll survive after all, in which case I wouldn’t have had to pee in my pants, in which case I wouldn’t have had to get up, in which case I would have died, in which case I probably would have peed in my pants...

So come see my play and be caught up in a paradoxical snag. It’s a vicious circle, but a brilliant play. And why would I lie about my own play? That would be ridiculous!

So if you want to severely cripple your nervous system, there are better ways to do it than Sarin. Unless that’s what we pump into the theater. In which case you’d be spared from having to buy your own Sarin. In which case you’d probably die (or pee yourself trying).

Unless the cops find out about it, in which case we will probably not do that.

In the event that this occurs, we will most likely substitute the “murder” play with a play called The Glass House and not kill anybody.




Copyright © 2000-2002 Jacques. All rights reserved.