Tabula Rasa
March Issue
Spring has Finally ARRIVED
Despite the cold weather and abundance of snow we recently received, spring has finally arrived. Soon we should have warm weather and sunny days, which will lead to the fast approaching summer we have all been waiting for. With the couple of months we have left, lets strive to work harder and make the next couple of months the best ones yet!
I sat me down to write today-
Think you’d have learned by now.
I’d had some fairly grand ideas-
So you tried anyhow.
Of course! I’d write of happiness-
‘Cause that’s not overdone.
But happiness is all around!
Perhaps it is for some.
In fresh spring air, and gardens fair-
But some prefer the fall.
And bumblebees on blossoms pink!
I don’t like those at all.
Oh?
Allergies.
Then how about the warm sunshine?
I’m happiest in rain.
Blue sky and puffy cumulus?
‘Till stratus come again.
The night around a camping fire-
Got bug spray, anyone?
And songs and stories sung by friends-
IF you call camping fun.
I would go on, but what’s the use;
Most anything could be so turned.
My heart doth sing in happy truths
But to a tune that has no words.
Forsooth! O poet, now you see
On page snow-white there gladness be
For happiness is when
On just this sort of day
The writer rests his pen
And walks away.
Student Submission:
By: Moriah Veer
We’re All Mad Here
The need for order was pressing
As the room went swoosh, swip, swoop
Around the swirls of sweeping scoops.
Was it orderly order or orderlies that were ordered?
The din of the den went
Ding dong dingle dingle.
And Alice Goes Door To Door
Searching For Answers Nothing More
As the Queen Plays Her Cards
And the Hatter Hides His Heart
Was it the din of the den or the den of the din?
Sound of silence or silence of sound?
Questions quipped to quipping quizzers quizzing.
Questions to be Answered or Answers to be Questioned?
Hatters being Hatted or Hats being Hattered?
What Matters when nothing Matters not?
And Alice Goes Door To Door
Searching For Answers Nothing More
As the Queen Plays Her Cards
And the Hatter Hides His Heart
Nothing Much or too Much of Nothing?
Swirling Visions of Sounds or
Sounds of Visions Swirling
Through Whirly-Gigs of Suspended Motion
Held by Teacups of Noisy Juices?
Were Teacups made for Tea or Tea Made For Teacups?
Perception of Sensations too Sensible for Such a Small World.
Am I too Big for the World or is the World too Small for Me?
And Alice Goes Door To Door
Searching For Answers Nothing More
As the Queen Plays Her Cards
And the Hatter Hides His Heart
Were Oceans made for Water or Water Made for Oceans?
Do Birds take Flight or does Flight Take Birds?
Does Death Conquer Life or Does Life Embrace Death?
Are We Dying As We Live or Living While We Die?
Do We Fail to Succeed or Succeed at Failing?
Are We Afraid To Fail or Failing Because We Are Afraid?
And Alice Goes Door To Door
Searching For Answers Nothing More
As the Queen Plays Her Cards
And the Hatter Hides His Heart
The Sentence Below is True.
The Sentence Above is False.
Confounding Circles of Confusing Complexity
Churning Through the Cortexes and Caps of
Cerebrals, Crooks, and Clowns Alike.
Do Clowns Clown Around or Does Clowning Around Make You A Clown?
Is Truth Absolute or the Absolute Truth?
Does Destiny Doom You or Do You Decide Your Doomed Destiny?
And Alice Goes Door To Door
Searching For Answers Nothing More
As the Queen Plays Her Cards
And the Hatter Hides His Heart
If We Have Jam YesterDay and Tomorrow Day,
But Never ToDay,
Will We Ever Have Jam?
If We Are Always Changing Are We Ever The Same Person?
If We Are Because We Think, What Are We When We Can Think of Nothing?
Does Living Have A Line of Where Life Livens?
And Alice Goes Door To Door
Searching For Answers Nothing More
As the Queen Plays Her Cards
And the Hatter Hides His Heart
Down A Hole I Fell
And Found My Dreams So Real;
I Awoke To Reason Warped
Where Walruses Wonder Over Shoes And Ships.
Tea Parties Are Tireless Trapped in Time’s Tantrum
Churlish Cheshires Chat With Children.
Doomed to Destinies
Of Circuitous Ideas
And Paltry Paradoxes
They move in Circles of Words.
Believing To Have Made Progress,
They Are Shocked To Discover One Day
Moved, They Have Not.
That Dream is No Dream
That is a Reality.
Realities Are Much More Dangerous Though.
Realities Are Riddled With Ridiculous Questions of the Most Real and Rational Sort
That Ravel Us Within Their Ruses of Relevance.
Trapped Traveling in Tiresome Trails of Tires That We Never Tire From,
We Waste What Little Lives We Are Given Debating Such Worthless What Ifs.
We’re All Mad Here.
But I have Wasted Too Much Time Pondering Pointless Paradoxes.
I’m Late! I’m Late! I’m Late For A Very Important Date!
It’s Time For Words To Transform Into Actions.
There is no Time To Wonder Over Fate,
Because Afterall, What’s the Point?
Getting Going I Gaze Back Once More And Glimpse:
Alice Going Door To Door
Searching For Answers Nothing More
As the Queen Plays Her Cards
And the Hatter Hides His Heart
Not A Single One Plays Their Part.
The need for order was pressing
As the room went swoosh, swip, swoop
Around the swirls of sweeping scoops.
Was it orderly order or orderlies that were ordered?
The din of the den went
Ding dong dingle dingle.
And Alice Goes Door To Door
Searching For Answers Nothing More
As the Queen Plays Her Cards
And the Hatter Hides His Heart
Was it the din of the den or the den of the din?
Sound of silence or silence of sound?
Questions quipped to quipping quizzers quizzing.
Questions to be Answered or Answers to be Questioned?
Hatters being Hatted or Hats being Hattered?
What Matters when nothing Matters not?
And Alice Goes Door To Door
Searching For Answers Nothing More
As the Queen Plays Her Cards
And the Hatter Hides His Heart
Nothing Much or too Much of Nothing?
Swirling Visions of Sounds or
Sounds of Visions Swirling
Through Whirly-Gigs of Suspended Motion
Held by Teacups of Noisy Juices?
Were Teacups made for Tea or Tea Made For Teacups?
Perception of Sensations too Sensible for Such a Small World.
Am I too Big for the World or is the World too Small for Me?
And Alice Goes Door To Door
Searching For Answers Nothing More
As the Queen Plays Her Cards
And the Hatter Hides His Heart
Were Oceans made for Water or Water Made for Oceans?
Do Birds take Flight or does Flight Take Birds?
Does Death Conquer Life or Does Life Embrace Death?
Are We Dying As We Live or Living While We Die?
Do We Fail to Succeed or Succeed at Failing?
Are We Afraid To Fail or Failing Because We Are Afraid?
And Alice Goes Door To Door
Searching For Answers Nothing More
As the Queen Plays Her Cards
And the Hatter Hides His Heart
The Sentence Below is True.
The Sentence Above is False.
Confounding Circles of Confusing Complexity
Churning Through the Cortexes and Caps of
Cerebrals, Crooks, and Clowns Alike.
Do Clowns Clown Around or Does Clowning Around Make You A Clown?
Is Truth Absolute or the Absolute Truth?
Does Destiny Doom You or Do You Decide Your Doomed Destiny?
And Alice Goes Door To Door
Searching For Answers Nothing More
As the Queen Plays Her Cards
And the Hatter Hides His Heart
If We Have Jam YesterDay and Tomorrow Day,
But Never ToDay,
Will We Ever Have Jam?
If We Are Always Changing Are We Ever The Same Person?
If We Are Because We Think, What Are We When We Can Think of Nothing?
Does Living Have A Line of Where Life Livens?
And Alice Goes Door To Door
Searching For Answers Nothing More
As the Queen Plays Her Cards
And the Hatter Hides His Heart
Down A Hole I Fell
And Found My Dreams So Real;
I Awoke To Reason Warped
Where Walruses Wonder Over Shoes And Ships.
Tea Parties Are Tireless Trapped in Time’s Tantrum
Churlish Cheshires Chat With Children.
Doomed to Destinies
Of Circuitous Ideas
And Paltry Paradoxes
They move in Circles of Words.
Believing To Have Made Progress,
They Are Shocked To Discover One Day
Moved, They Have Not.
That Dream is No Dream
That is a Reality.
Realities Are Much More Dangerous Though.
Realities Are Riddled With Ridiculous Questions of the Most Real and Rational Sort
That Ravel Us Within Their Ruses of Relevance.
Trapped Traveling in Tiresome Trails of Tires That We Never Tire From,
We Waste What Little Lives We Are Given Debating Such Worthless What Ifs.
We’re All Mad Here.
But I have Wasted Too Much Time Pondering Pointless Paradoxes.
I’m Late! I’m Late! I’m Late For A Very Important Date!
It’s Time For Words To Transform Into Actions.
There is no Time To Wonder Over Fate,
Because Afterall, What’s the Point?
Getting Going I Gaze Back Once More And Glimpse:
Alice Going Door To Door
Searching For Answers Nothing More
As the Queen Plays Her Cards
And the Hatter Hides His Heart
Not A Single One Plays Their Part.
By: Moriah Veer
Soul Mates be Damned
Whenever I think of you I see Darcy.
Whenever I think of our future, I see Pierre and Natasha.
Whenever I think of our romance I think of Julia and Gere.
When I think of your eyes as they alight on me, I see Gatsby.
Worst of all though, is what I cannot see.
A lifetime of you is more than I could ever bargain for.
A night with you would be more than enough,
These are the words I whisper to soothe my frantic soul.
The very idea of you is a salve to my burning searching.
Afterall, you are my soul mate, and whether we want to or not, we are tethered together.
Fated to find each other always and forever.
Your soul slave to mine,
And mine to yours.
I can see all of these things so well, but my myopia is too much.
O, Love! The things you do!
You chase the black from the darkest soul,
But you drag the dark into the whitest soul.
From the pinnacle of moral ground,
If you asked me to come to you in the depths of Hell,
I do not believe that I could resist your fiery temptation
As you set my soul on fire with your words, mouth, and fingers.
You cause such thirst that I would swallow the most depraved acts
To sate my parched throat, and quench my longing.
You are strong enough to pull the demons in Dante’s lowest level of Inferno
To the highest peaks of those pearly gates.
Yet you make me so blind.
Love is blindness, but I want to see.
I could not see him.
I stumbled in the dark for you, yet you never turned the light on.
Love- an all-consuming fire,
But where was the light?
A fiery dark flame, that gave the illusion of warmth,
However, your light was a black hole,
You trapped me in your greedy flames,
Your fiendish, fiery hands leapt across my eyes and path,
I thought I saw it then, his face,
But I realized that was a distorted image
From the tears you left as your smoke filled my mouth and nose,
Clouding my mind, filling it with vapors that filled my head with delusions.
I never saw him, until now.
O, Love! The things you have done!
Drove Ophelia mad you did.
Poisoned Romeo, only to stab Juliet.
Then you came back, to finish Ophelia with poetic death and flowers.
All in the name of soul mates.
Tell me, was it worth it?
You have lured me into your elaborate and elusive trap-
The Soulmate.
I fell,
Only to remember that-
Darcy was an egotist,
Moscow was the price that Pierre and Natasha had to pay,
Julia was a prostitute, and Gere a lonely man,
And Gatsby, O Gatsby, perhaps the most tragic of them all.
He had a soul mate.
Or at least he thought he did.
He was tricked by your smoke,
With its greenish haze.
He dirtied his soul black for Daisy.
No rule or hallway vase unbroken for her, and yet,
When it came down to it,
Where was Daisy?
Love you failed him.
And you didn’t even attend his funeral.
Well my darling,
Turns out I could not see you,
Every other classic romance in the book was plain before my eyes,
So my soul mate, where were you?
You were a bit too real if we are honest mate.
You swore a little too much,
And you sometimes had sweat rings under your armpits,
But what about those times when you were perfectly charming,
Like when you walked me to the door,
Just for those extra minutes.
Turns out I never saw you as my soul mate,
There was a green light that distracted my eyes from your soul,
The green light transposed an Adonis over your glittering eyes,
Lovely spirit, and unending patience.
I fell in love with that green light, and just as Gatsby soon found out,
Everything paled in comparison.
I could not hear your soul calling for me.
I could not see Bronte’s fabric,
So please pardon me, for not seeing you.
But truth be told, I do not want you to be my soul mate,
Instead would you allow me to be in love with you?
Because as long as you start a soul mate, I can never see you,
Will you let me love you?
Will you let me make you my soul mate?
Whenever I think of you I see Darcy.
Whenever I think of our future, I see Pierre and Natasha.
Whenever I think of our romance I think of Julia and Gere.
When I think of your eyes as they alight on me, I see Gatsby.
Worst of all though, is what I cannot see.
A lifetime of you is more than I could ever bargain for.
A night with you would be more than enough,
These are the words I whisper to soothe my frantic soul.
The very idea of you is a salve to my burning searching.
Afterall, you are my soul mate, and whether we want to or not, we are tethered together.
Fated to find each other always and forever.
Your soul slave to mine,
And mine to yours.
I can see all of these things so well, but my myopia is too much.
O, Love! The things you do!
You chase the black from the darkest soul,
But you drag the dark into the whitest soul.
From the pinnacle of moral ground,
If you asked me to come to you in the depths of Hell,
I do not believe that I could resist your fiery temptation
As you set my soul on fire with your words, mouth, and fingers.
You cause such thirst that I would swallow the most depraved acts
To sate my parched throat, and quench my longing.
You are strong enough to pull the demons in Dante’s lowest level of Inferno
To the highest peaks of those pearly gates.
Yet you make me so blind.
Love is blindness, but I want to see.
I could not see him.
I stumbled in the dark for you, yet you never turned the light on.
Love- an all-consuming fire,
But where was the light?
A fiery dark flame, that gave the illusion of warmth,
However, your light was a black hole,
You trapped me in your greedy flames,
Your fiendish, fiery hands leapt across my eyes and path,
I thought I saw it then, his face,
But I realized that was a distorted image
From the tears you left as your smoke filled my mouth and nose,
Clouding my mind, filling it with vapors that filled my head with delusions.
I never saw him, until now.
O, Love! The things you have done!
Drove Ophelia mad you did.
Poisoned Romeo, only to stab Juliet.
Then you came back, to finish Ophelia with poetic death and flowers.
All in the name of soul mates.
Tell me, was it worth it?
You have lured me into your elaborate and elusive trap-
The Soulmate.
I fell,
Only to remember that-
Darcy was an egotist,
Moscow was the price that Pierre and Natasha had to pay,
Julia was a prostitute, and Gere a lonely man,
And Gatsby, O Gatsby, perhaps the most tragic of them all.
He had a soul mate.
Or at least he thought he did.
He was tricked by your smoke,
With its greenish haze.
He dirtied his soul black for Daisy.
No rule or hallway vase unbroken for her, and yet,
When it came down to it,
Where was Daisy?
Love you failed him.
And you didn’t even attend his funeral.
Well my darling,
Turns out I could not see you,
Every other classic romance in the book was plain before my eyes,
So my soul mate, where were you?
You were a bit too real if we are honest mate.
You swore a little too much,
And you sometimes had sweat rings under your armpits,
But what about those times when you were perfectly charming,
Like when you walked me to the door,
Just for those extra minutes.
Turns out I never saw you as my soul mate,
There was a green light that distracted my eyes from your soul,
The green light transposed an Adonis over your glittering eyes,
Lovely spirit, and unending patience.
I fell in love with that green light, and just as Gatsby soon found out,
Everything paled in comparison.
I could not hear your soul calling for me.
I could not see Bronte’s fabric,
So please pardon me, for not seeing you.
But truth be told, I do not want you to be my soul mate,
Instead would you allow me to be in love with you?
Because as long as you start a soul mate, I can never see you,
Will you let me love you?
Will you let me make you my soul mate?
bY: Moriah Veer
Heureux pour l'éternité
I have been told that in a far off land there is no magic. No glass slippers, poisoned apples, or magic spinning wheels. Where girls are punished for sleeping in beds that are not theirs and the murders of larger-than-life outcasts are not overlooked in the name of pure, unadulterated sentimentality. That’s what it was all for wasn’t it? The triumph of good over “evil”? Right? When the final rays of the golden sunshine sink beneath the far-off horizon, all the wreckage and the collateral damage resulted in a cesspool of self-indulgence and narcissism. Sure, the knights saved the far-removed princesses, and fell in ridiculous love, while the beauties loved their beasts and showered them in redemption, but at the end of the day, when the feasts were called, and the boars were felled, they just wrote us off. Chocked it up to evil hearts and jealous natures, never truly concerned with our motivations or our dreams- after all, they saved the day, what else matters?
In all of my research of that land, Reality, one law resounds in my mind more than all the others, “Energy is neither created nor destroyed.” I at first did not understand what this meant, we do not have this “energy” here in Fantasyland, but after more research, I think I began to understand. We may not have this energy, but we do have magic, and I am guessing it is vaguely the same concept. Have you ever wondered why Cinderella had to leave at twelve?
Energy cannot be lost, created, or destroyed, so neither can magic. Whenever fairy god-mothers wave their wands, the magic that is expended is converted from somewhere else. The magic ran out at midnight for little Cinderella, after all I only had so much magic to give. We would sure hate to accidentally steal some from Snow White’s happily ever after. Everyone knows that you need magic for happy ever afters, so where does it all come from? Snow White, Cinderella, Aurora? Where did their perfect endings come from? They came from us, the villains. The Evil Step-mothers and Jaded Witches, but we were not always this way. We were once men and women with dreams, aspirations, and pure intentions who wandered off their paths in trail of that glorious magic. The funny thing is that we once had it. The magic and the happy ever after, we married the ones that we loved and we lived in decadence in small chateaus in the south of France, but we lost them. The ones we loved died in our arms, we cried over them, and watched as the walls crumbled around us. Crushed granite and pulverized hopes were carried from us on the wind. Crushed granite is the byproduct of magic dust transference, so subtle, yet so devastating a loss. However, the magic transfer happened, so muted we were oblivious until it was too late.
Tell me how it was fair? I felt so out of control. The feeling of my happiness being torn from me. My world spiraled out of my grasp. I tried to hold to it, but like an hourglass, the sand slipped through my fingers, and I watched it accumulate at your feet, and I did not understand the arbitrary redistribution. Why couldn’t Happy Ever After choose me? Instead I just watched it drain from me, I felt my fortunes decrease and watched yours increase, and in that moment I decided that I had to fight. I’ve heard people whisper about me in harsh, judgmental tones. They say that I chose the wrong side, that I should have chosen good, the “winning side”. However, I never really had a choice did I? What side should I have chosen to fight on? The only battles I had were the lost ones, the sand had already begun to slip, and my hands were like sieves.
In that moment, I decided to fight for my happiness, to push back that dictator of happy endings. Who is this narrator guy anyways? What does he know? I may not have been able to win, but why couldn’t I fight for my happy ending like the princes and paupers could? I know that you cannot forgive me for what I have done to you. You the princes, the princesses, the step-daughters, and the beauties. Maybe we were wrong to fight. Maybe, in the instant that we took the path of vindication, we sealed our fate. When we took the only path that seemed open to us we signed our feet to be true to walk our lonely, destructive roads. This may all be true, but all I know is that I watched Maleficent’s heart break as she stood on the edge of that celebration, slowly being erased as she watched her happy ever after be reassigned to a babe who was only ever born to a king. I hurt for the Wicked Step-mother as her identity was stripped from her, stolen as her beauty slipped away into a little girl, she called daughter, until all that was left was a one-dimensional villain, defined by her relation to the new owner of her happy ever after. I looked on as the giant mourn over his looted kingdom as he watched his happiness destroyed as his gold trickled to the side of the thief, so my darling heroes and heroines, can you really blame us?
We all know that history is written by the winners, and you are the winners, but remember, you only have your happy endings, because ours was stolen out from underneath us. Your beautiful castles were built on our beautiful disasters. Don’t forget. Dear God, do not forget your villains, because Lord knows no one else will, and one day, one day you’ll be the villains too.
I have been told that in a far off land there is no magic. No glass slippers, poisoned apples, or magic spinning wheels. Where girls are punished for sleeping in beds that are not theirs and the murders of larger-than-life outcasts are not overlooked in the name of pure, unadulterated sentimentality. That’s what it was all for wasn’t it? The triumph of good over “evil”? Right? When the final rays of the golden sunshine sink beneath the far-off horizon, all the wreckage and the collateral damage resulted in a cesspool of self-indulgence and narcissism. Sure, the knights saved the far-removed princesses, and fell in ridiculous love, while the beauties loved their beasts and showered them in redemption, but at the end of the day, when the feasts were called, and the boars were felled, they just wrote us off. Chocked it up to evil hearts and jealous natures, never truly concerned with our motivations or our dreams- after all, they saved the day, what else matters?
In all of my research of that land, Reality, one law resounds in my mind more than all the others, “Energy is neither created nor destroyed.” I at first did not understand what this meant, we do not have this “energy” here in Fantasyland, but after more research, I think I began to understand. We may not have this energy, but we do have magic, and I am guessing it is vaguely the same concept. Have you ever wondered why Cinderella had to leave at twelve?
Energy cannot be lost, created, or destroyed, so neither can magic. Whenever fairy god-mothers wave their wands, the magic that is expended is converted from somewhere else. The magic ran out at midnight for little Cinderella, after all I only had so much magic to give. We would sure hate to accidentally steal some from Snow White’s happily ever after. Everyone knows that you need magic for happy ever afters, so where does it all come from? Snow White, Cinderella, Aurora? Where did their perfect endings come from? They came from us, the villains. The Evil Step-mothers and Jaded Witches, but we were not always this way. We were once men and women with dreams, aspirations, and pure intentions who wandered off their paths in trail of that glorious magic. The funny thing is that we once had it. The magic and the happy ever after, we married the ones that we loved and we lived in decadence in small chateaus in the south of France, but we lost them. The ones we loved died in our arms, we cried over them, and watched as the walls crumbled around us. Crushed granite and pulverized hopes were carried from us on the wind. Crushed granite is the byproduct of magic dust transference, so subtle, yet so devastating a loss. However, the magic transfer happened, so muted we were oblivious until it was too late.
Tell me how it was fair? I felt so out of control. The feeling of my happiness being torn from me. My world spiraled out of my grasp. I tried to hold to it, but like an hourglass, the sand slipped through my fingers, and I watched it accumulate at your feet, and I did not understand the arbitrary redistribution. Why couldn’t Happy Ever After choose me? Instead I just watched it drain from me, I felt my fortunes decrease and watched yours increase, and in that moment I decided that I had to fight. I’ve heard people whisper about me in harsh, judgmental tones. They say that I chose the wrong side, that I should have chosen good, the “winning side”. However, I never really had a choice did I? What side should I have chosen to fight on? The only battles I had were the lost ones, the sand had already begun to slip, and my hands were like sieves.
In that moment, I decided to fight for my happiness, to push back that dictator of happy endings. Who is this narrator guy anyways? What does he know? I may not have been able to win, but why couldn’t I fight for my happy ending like the princes and paupers could? I know that you cannot forgive me for what I have done to you. You the princes, the princesses, the step-daughters, and the beauties. Maybe we were wrong to fight. Maybe, in the instant that we took the path of vindication, we sealed our fate. When we took the only path that seemed open to us we signed our feet to be true to walk our lonely, destructive roads. This may all be true, but all I know is that I watched Maleficent’s heart break as she stood on the edge of that celebration, slowly being erased as she watched her happy ever after be reassigned to a babe who was only ever born to a king. I hurt for the Wicked Step-mother as her identity was stripped from her, stolen as her beauty slipped away into a little girl, she called daughter, until all that was left was a one-dimensional villain, defined by her relation to the new owner of her happy ever after. I looked on as the giant mourn over his looted kingdom as he watched his happiness destroyed as his gold trickled to the side of the thief, so my darling heroes and heroines, can you really blame us?
We all know that history is written by the winners, and you are the winners, but remember, you only have your happy endings, because ours was stolen out from underneath us. Your beautiful castles were built on our beautiful disasters. Don’t forget. Dear God, do not forget your villains, because Lord knows no one else will, and one day, one day you’ll be the villains too.
Luke field's reviews
Recently, according to Phys.org, the concept of genome editing has tread into morally hazardous waters. The idea is that you can alter sequences of genetic code in order to make the outcome of offspring more desirable. This has far ranging applications, the most obvious today being the debate of genetically modified organisms (GMOs). This brings the mind the world described in Aldous Huxley's Brave New World. In this novel, humans are bred into different classes, with the Alphas and the Epsilons on the top and bottom of society, respectively. I won't lie, it makes me very nervous to think of a day and age where being exceptional is no longer exceptional, but rather commonplace. Although the benefits would be obvious: no conflicts, disease, anger, etc. However, technology advancing to the point where all of this is possible is still light years away. But this does not mean we should not prepare to make a decision that will affect the outcome of humans as a species.
Earlier this month, I went to see a production of The Addam's Family at Robert E. Lee High School. Normally, I almost never go to another high school's performance. However, I had heard wonderful things from my friends who had gone to see it. Many of them said that it was the best high school show they had ever seen. After seeing it myself, I happen to agree. It was very obvious that everyone in the cast had put in a great deal of work, and it showed. The choreography never missed a beat and no one in the cast ever missed a beat as far as lines, cues, etc. One of the biggest standouts to me personally was the quality of their pit orchestra, which included Joey Capuano, John Hoy, as well as JMU students. I have been in shows where there was no pit available and it makes a world of difference. All in all, if you hear someone say that Lee's production of The Addam's Family was the best they've ever seen, you know they're telling the absolute truth.
Earlier this month, I went to see a production of The Addam's Family at Robert E. Lee High School. Normally, I almost never go to another high school's performance. However, I had heard wonderful things from my friends who had gone to see it. Many of them said that it was the best high school show they had ever seen. After seeing it myself, I happen to agree. It was very obvious that everyone in the cast had put in a great deal of work, and it showed. The choreography never missed a beat and no one in the cast ever missed a beat as far as lines, cues, etc. One of the biggest standouts to me personally was the quality of their pit orchestra, which included Joey Capuano, John Hoy, as well as JMU students. I have been in shows where there was no pit available and it makes a world of difference. All in all, if you hear someone say that Lee's production of The Addam's Family was the best they've ever seen, you know they're telling the absolute truth.