November 30th, 2005

Crack!

I seem to have broken my crown. Fortunately, it's just part of the porcelain cover -- the underlying metal is intact so far. But I think it's time to talk to the dentist.

Hyperspace

Here's another trip into the archives for one of the odder songs I (and daisy_knotwise) have ever written.

Confusion thought that they had negotiated with Moebius Theatre for a performance at their con. They were wrong. Tara asked me at ConClave if there was anything I could do to try to sort the situation out. For a variety of reasons, a number of us were willing to split off and form our own science-fiction comedy improv group, SpaceTime Theater, and pick up the gig. After two shows at Confusion, we moved to ConClave and have been there -- and at other cons around the Midwest -- ever since.

One of the bits that we wrote for the first show centered around what was -- charitably -- the worst rock band in the galaxy, Press Enter. Actually, the band would have been fine if the computer controlling their performance-enhancing implants was working, but it wasn't. Nor would it ever be used during the course of the three bits that we wrote about the members of this unhappy little band and their manager, played by rmjwell. This was fortunate since, of the four people on stage playing, I was the only one playing an instrument (guitar) I was actually familiar with. Jerry played guitar, but was handed a bass to play; Doug was given a Unisynth, the Hammond chord organ of guitars; while Mike was given a rather sorry drum machine which he did not, by any stretch of the imagination, play well.

Of course, every band, no matter how bad, gets around to writing a song about being a band -- at least, if they're together long enough. And it seemed like Press Enter had been together for a very long time. Hyperspace was this band's song.

And at that first Confusion show, the band played the opening chords, Doug and I leaned into the single mic to start to sing, and the extended stand slowly sank into itself, so that we sang the entire song hunched over to the height of Munchkins.

You can't buy comedy like that. Stands only collapse on cue when the performers are least expecting it.

The three completed Press Enter songs are Hyperspace, Dark Star Lady, and Teenage Popsicle Girl.

Someday, Gretchen and I must finish writing Hellbombs From Planet 9.
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