I had an odd theatrical experience this past Tuesday. I went to a show, and while I’m still not sure if I liked it, I am still thinking about it, so in that respect, it was good.
The show is Playing Shylock, starring Saul Rubinek (the original version was written by Mark Leiren-Young; this was apparently an updated, modified script). It was in the Polonsky Shakespeare Center, a little theatre in Brooklyn, and the show is closing tomorrow, so at this point, I can’t really urge you to see it yourself.
The conceit is that the audience is actually there to see a production of William Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice. [Aside: I’d never read the play before, though I knew bits of the story, so Monday night, I watched a film version from 2004.] A voice-over tells us the second act will be delayed due to technical difficulties, and eventually, Saul Rubinek comes on stage—in costume as Shylock—to tell the audience that they will not be performing the second half of the play, because the cast accidentally learned during this intermission that the theatre has cancelled the remainder of the run, making tonight’s performance the last.
What follows is a nearly two hour-long monologue/discussion of artistic freedom, antisemitism, and virtue signaling. But also, the concepts of freedom, security, and memory; the Jewish experience in surviving (or not) the Concentration Camps in Nazi Germany; and honoring our parents as we live the better lives they worked for us to have. Thrown in are digressions about the nature of representation, artistry and artistic credit, and the never-ending debate over who actually wrote the plays of William Shakespeare. As with all of the best questions, there were no hard-and-fast answers. It was all there to make us think.
Playing on nothing more than his own memories, the script, and the all-too-limited audience reactions, Rubinek is wonderfully emotive, and incredibly moving. And with such heavy concepts and weighty thoughts, there is just the right touch of levity to keep the show from being crushingly depressing… even though he and we know that the depression has a very strong foundation, and holding back the tide of the antisemitism, the repression, and the outright hatred may not be possible.
One of the unintended sources of discomfort, for me, was his interactions with the audience. I’ve been in theatres my whole life, sometimes on the stage, more often in the audience. And in all that time, I’ve learned that the audience’s role is to watch, but not to interact. (There is, of course, the allowed interaction during lectures, which are a different animal, perhaps because the “actor” is not playing some fictitious character, but is merely himself.) But in Playing Shylock, Rubinek is playing himself—or an alternate universe version of himself—in which he is still in costume from the interrupted performance of The Merchant of Venice, except that there was no actual interrupted performance of the play, so is he actually just Saul Rubinek, or is he a fictitious Saul Rubinek? At any rate, several times he asked the audience for commentary, for responses, and I truly didn’t know if I was supposed to supply the other side of that conversation, or if those were rhetorical questions, part of the script. I suppose that added discomfort may actually have been intended, to show that the comfortable world we hope we live in is not really so scripted and easy.
Yes, I guess I did like it. Not in the “that was a lot of fun; I want to do it again” way of liking something, but in the “that made me think” way. Yes, it was an evening well spent. Bravo, Saul Rubinek, and playwright Mark Leiren-Young.
If you weren’t with us at Philcon this weekend, today is your first chance to get a copy of Daniel M. Kimmel’s fantastic new novel, A Talent to Amuse. It’s a funny, fantastical, romantic look at the concepts of creation and inspiration.
What happens when a struggling writer falls in love with an unemployed Muse? Only the Fates know…
Writers have spent centuries praising and cursing the Muses, as their artistic talents have waxed and waned. But it’s a rare writer indeed who can attract not only the attention of a Muse, but her love, too.
Meet Sherman Biberman, a fair-to-middlin’ writer who actually meets his Muse in the park. You thought there were only nine? Where have you been? Sherman and Komikós (the Muse of Humorous Genre Fiction) are parting ways, but Komikós knows another, out-of-work Muse, who just might be good for Sherman, and vice versa.
That begins Sherman’s relationship with Vinteokaséta, the erstwhile Muse of Blockbuster Video stores. She’s currently unemployed, and looking for some inspiration herself.
Hugo Award-finalist, Skylark Award winner, and Cable Center Book Award winner Daniel M. Kimmel showcases his wide range of writing talents in A Talent to Amuse, introducing us to Muses greater and lesser, offering tales in myriad genres, and topping it all with heaping dollops of the humor and pathos that has made him such a beloved writer.
The book is available hardcover, trade paperback, and electronic formats, in all the usual outlets.
I’m planning to go to a Mensa gathering this evening, just some people getting together in a restaurant/bar for conversation. The last time this particular gathering gathered, it was fascinating. I met several new people, including some from other countries, who knew and talked about things I didn’t know, so I learned. It was a good time.
But there was one woman present who I’d only known from online interactions. Unfortunately, in person, she was the same: always complaining, angry, and put upon. Nothing was right, and everything needed to be corrected to her standards. Thinking about tonight’s gathering, I’m anticipating the good, but I’m wondering what I might say if I find myself in proximity to this woman, to short-circuit her kvetching. I think I’ll ask her what brings her joy.
That, however, makes me think she might turn the question back on me: what brings me joy? So I’ve been thinking about that.
I try to find some joy in every day: whether it’s talking with my family, hearing a new song or joke (well, new jokes are rare these days), or learning and playing games with friends, but those are little things, small joys (mind you, that doesn’t make them any less important or less cherished). But there are bigger joys, too: being on stage (thinking of the talk I gave last weekend, about punctuation and my new book), selling a story or essay, or experiencing something genuinely new, like visiting a new place.
Most of those, however, rely on other people. But there are also the joys that don’t require other people’s efforts: writing, for me, is one of those joys, whether I’m at the keyboard or out walking and the right turn of phrase comes to me. Selling what I’ve written adds another level of joy, but even without the selling, I enjoy my time choosing precisely the correct word, and ordering those correct words. My wood carving is another one of those joys; one I get to experience too seldom, especially in the colder months, since there’s no place to do it in the house. And there are a few cherished movies I’ll rewatch when I need a lift, a pick-me-up, because they always make me smile (although movies, by their very nature, require other people to have done a great deal to get them to me). It’s a similar thing with reading an especially good passage or engrossing story, when not only am I enjoying what I’m reading, but I’m trying to figure out how the writer did it, to see if I can learn from it to improve my own writing.
Anyway, that’s a short answer to the question I may ask of others this evening, but I’ll ask you, too: what brings you joy?
It’s another science fiction convention weekend, this time with an over-stuffed Saturday! This weekend, I’ll be at the Doubletree in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, for Philcon.
As always, you can find me in the Dealers’ Room, open Friday, 4:00–7:00 pm; Saturday 10:00 am–6:00 pm; and Sunday 10:00 am–3:00 pm.
You can also find me on programming:
Saturday at 12:00N in Plaza 3: “Meet More Editors!” with Danielle Ackley-McPhail, Michael D. Pederson, Alex Shvartsman, and Ann Stolinsky
Saturday at 3:00PM in Plaza 4: “How Do I Get Publishers to Notice Me?” with Aaron Rosenberg, Neil Clarke, and Michael A. Ventrella
Saturday from 6:00 pm to 7:30 pm in the Con Suite: book launch party for Daniel M. Kimmel’s A Talent to Amuse, as well as Dragonwell Publishing’s new book by Bernie Mojzes.
Saturday at 8:00PM in the Grand Ballroom: I’ll be emceeing the Masquerade.
Sunday at 11:00AM in Plaza 3: “Assembling an Anthology” with Danielle Ackley-McPhail, Neil Clarke, Alex Shvartsman, and Michael A. Ventrella
If you read that schedule closely, you’ll notice I have to be in the dealers’ room and the con suite and the masquerade Saturday afternoon/evening, probably all three at the same time, so I don’t really know where I’ll be: setting up for the launch party in the con suite before 6:00; closing the table in the dealers’ room at 6:00; and preparing for the masquerade before 8:00. You, however, as an attendee, will be able to do all three with no overlap.
Dan’s book, A Talent to Amuse, is a wonderful romantasy. In it, a professional writer is looking for the inspiration to take his writing to the next level. He meets an out-of-work Muse, who is looking for some inspiration of her own. And together, they may find something even more.
This weekend, I’ll be attending Boston Mensa’s Pilgrimage regional gathering, in Andover, Massachusetts. Unlike science fiction conventions, I won’t have a dealer table, and I won’t be on a slew of panels. Instead, I’ll be giving a solo presentation, “Punctilious Punctuation,” on Saturday at 4:00pm Salon B/C A. I’ll have some books available for sale after.
Beyond that one scheduled appearance, I’ll be around, enjoying the RG just like everyone else.
Two weeks ago, I was in Chicago for their RG, which is a very good one. But Pilgrimage is nostalgic for me. The first RG I attended as a Mensan was the earlier incarnation of Pilgrimage, a few months after I graduated from college. That year, it was held in Boston’s Park Plaza Hotel, which later became the host for Arisia for a bunch of great years (which is a different kind of nostalgia), though it was also later the site of a wedding for two of my good friends. So Pilgrimage has always been special for me.
Dextrous (or dexterous) means skillful or adroit in the use of the hands or body. (Thus, “manual dexterity” is somewhat redundant.) I know, that definition includes “or body.” But shouldn’t there be a specific equivalent word for skillful use of the feet?
People who haven’t (or haven’t yet) attended one of these weekend-long conventions Mensa calls Gatherings ask me what happens at them. In addition to the formally scheduled events (turns out they’ve already updated the web site, including removing this year’s schedule, which included speakers, meals, tournaments, a costume contest, dance, fancy-dress event, and more)—which this weekend included my talk on “Punctilious Punctuation” to an almost full-house in one of the larger ballrooms—there is the unscheduled meeting new people, socializing with new and old friends, board gaming, and much more. Over one lingering breakfast this weekend, at a table of eight or ten people including several friends of long standing and several others I met this weekend, the conversation ranged from microdosing ketamine (that one was brought up by the PhD psychotherapist), to velcro underwear, to the etymology of the term “bye week” (as it relates to sports), the concept of vegan cookies versus yoga, to the term lavender marriage (which I’d never heard before), to, yes, the foot-centered complementary word for dextrous.
Anyway, that’s some of what I did this weekend. What did you do?
Is this all far-fetched, doom-and-gloom, dystopian theorizing? Probably. I hope certainly. Nevertheless, it is a topic of conversation which keeps cropping up, so…
I know how Donald Trump is going to attempt to stay in office beyond the end of his term. It’s Section 3 of the 20th Amendment. Section 3 talks about who shall become President or act as President (two different things) if there is no President elect or if the President elect is not qualified to serve as President. The final clause of that Section reads “the Congress may by law provide for the case wherein neither a President elect nor a Vice President elect shall have qualified, declaring who shall then act as President, or the manner in which one who is to act shall be selected, and such person shall act accordingly until a President or Vice President shall have qualified.” In other words, if the election is somehow prevented from occurring—and despite Article II, Section 1, and Amendment 20, Section 1—I think Donald Trump’s sycophants are relying on this phrase to enable the Congress to “select” him to “act” as President “until a President or Vice President shall have qualified” (by being elected).
This revelation came while I was researching the essay I thought I was going to write, noting that, regardless of what Trump and the Trumpians try to do to the election of 2028, a lack of an incoming President does not enable the current President to remain in office.
I was going to quote Article II, Section 1 of the Constitution, which says the President “shall hold his office during the Term of four Years”—thus limiting the time the President serves to four years, whether a successor has been elected or not.
I was going to go on to the 12th Amendment, which says “…no person constitutionally ineligible to the office of President shall be eligible to that of Vice-President of the United States.” Thus preventing the President from becoming Vice President, only to succeed to the Presidency with the removal of the new President.
Then comes the first Section of the 20th Amendment: “The terms of the President and the Vice President shall end at noon on the 20th day of January, and the terms of Senators and Representatives at noon on the 3d day of January, of the years in which such terms would have ended if this article had not been ratified; and the terms of their successors shall then begin.” Repeating and emphasizing the Article II quote above: the President’s term ends, regardless of whether or not there is a successor waiting.
And, of course, the first Section of the 22nd Amendment: “No person shall be elected to the office of the President more than twice, and no person who has held the office of President, or acted as President, for more than two years of a term to which some other person was elected President shall be elected to the office of the President more than once.”
But then I stumbled upon Section 3 of the 20th Amendment, as I said above. That’s the “well, there may be a way around the Constitution” that the most ardent Trumpians have been hinting at. It’s fairly simple, if we assume they can somehow prevent the next Presidential election. And one doesn’t have to be too creative to figure out ways to do that: declare a state of emergency, ban gatherings “for public safety” during the first week in November, so that an election cannot be held (that’s why they keep pushing to get rid of mail-in ballots and early voting; so that there will be no ballots to count). Or, perhaps easier, would be to look at the fifth paragraph of Article II, Section 1: “The Congress may determine the Time of chusing the Electors, and the Day on which they shall give their Votes; which Day shall be the same throughout the United States.” Such an emergency declaration could simply prevent the Electors from gathering to cast their votes in December. No electoral votes, therefore nothing to count on January 6, and no President elect. Blocking that, rather than the general election, would mean that there would still be a new Congress elected who would then be charged with selecting that person who shall act as President.
Therefore, Congress needs to adopt a new law, by a veto-proof margin, saying “No person who is ineligible to be elected President may act as President.”
This weekend, I’ll be attending Chicago Area Mensa’s HalloWeeM regional gathering, in Wheeling, Illinois. Unlike science fiction conventions, I won’t have a dealer table, and I won’t be on a slew of panels. Instead, I’ll be giving a solo presentation, “Punctilious Punctuation,” on Friday at 3:00pm Michigan A. I’ll have some books available for sale after, at one of the vendor tables, for an hour or so.
Beyond that one scheduled appearance, I’ll be around, enjoying the RG just like everyone else (Costume Contest, Meet the AMC, Trivia, Pretentious Drinking, hanging out in Hospitality, you know…).
My flight is scheduled to land at O’Hare at 12:40pm on Thursday (assuming no massive flight delays), so if anyone else is getting in about that time, and wants to share a ride to the hotel, that’d be great. Similarly, my return-home flight is Monday, leaving O’Hare at 4:00pm, so again, I’m happy to share a ride.
Also, since the RG wraps up mid-afternoon on Sunday, if any of my friends in the area who won’t be at the RG want to get together, I may be free late Sunday and early Monday. Looking forward to seeing many people!
As angry as I am with many of President Trump’s statements and actions—some of which are immoral and unworthy of the presidency, and some of which are demonstrably criminal—my ire today is reserved for Congress and the Supreme Court. Part of the genius of our Constitution is that it organized a government that is not dictated solely by one person or one body, but rather has three co-equal branches, each of which has certain powers over the other two, and other responsibilities to the other two. As we learned in elementary school: the Legislative branch (Congress) makes the laws, the Executive branch (the President and his departments) enforces the laws, and the Judicial branch (the Supreme Court) interprets the laws (tells us what they mean, and if they are in keeping with the Constitution).
The President appoints the members of the Supreme Court, but the Senate has to agree. The President spends the money, but only according to the budget that Congress creates. Congress writes the laws that the President can veto or accept, but the Supreme Court can say “no, that law is not Constitutional.” Congress can remove the President and the members of the Supreme Court for “high crimes and misdemeanors.”
According to Article I of the Constitution, Section 8, the powers of Congress include the power to lay and collect taxes, duties, imposts and excises; to regulate commerce with foreign nations; to declare war; “to provide for calling forth the Militia to execute the Laws of the Union, suppress Insurrections and repel Invasions”; and a slew of others.
Article II, Section 2, lists the powers of the President, including serving as the Commander in Chief of the Army, Navy, and Militia, “when called into the actual Service of the United States”; making treaties, appointing ambassadors, Supreme Court judges, “and all other Officers of the United States,” all “by and with the Advice and Consent of the Senate”; and other things.
Article III vests “the judicial Power of the United States” in the Supreme Court and other inferior courts. Section 3, interestingly reads “Treason against the United States, shall consist only in levying War against them, or in adhering to their Enemies, giving them Aid and Comfort.”
This system of checks and balances among the three co-equal sections of the United States government worked pretty well for a long time. The relative power of the executive and legislative branches waxed and waned over the decades, but all three branches maintained their shared powers through the strength of their leaders over the years. Congressional leaders have worked with and against presidents, the Supreme Court has allowed and denied laws over the years, but always, the holders of those offices upheld the power of their position, the importance of their branch, and kept the tripod standing.
Lately, the tripod has collapsed, because two of those legs have been allowed to weaken before the onslaught of the third. Obviously, this collapse has been going on for longer than just the last decade, but no one looking at Ronald Reagan’s relationship with Tip O’Neill ever thought either one of them was subservient to the other. Since that time, however, we’ve been stuck with a series of ideologues who realized that the way to enforce their partisan will long beyond their service would be to enable a collapse of the system of checks and balances. Thus, Mitch McConnell’s lies and machinations have unbalanced the Supreme Court: in early 2016, he told us the Senate could not appoint a new Supreme Court justice during an election year, and kept Antonin Scalia’s seat vacant for 11 months, until Donald Trump’s election. Four years later, McConnell told us to ignore his four-year-old words, and that the Senate had to fill a vacant Supreme Court seat when Ruth Bader Ginsburg died a month and a half before the election of 2020. That’s the same Mitch McConnell who, on January 6, 2021, called Donald Trump “practically and morally responsible” for the attack on the Capitol, but then voted to acquit Trump of those charges at his second impeachment. McConnell is no longer the leader of the Senate, but his successor, John Thune, has not shown himself to be any more of a leader. His every utterance proclaims his subservience to the office of the President.
Chief Justice John Roberts has used his ideological majority of the Court to grant the president nearly complete immunity for anything he may do during his term of office, since the president in question supports his views. He also can’t imagine any of our recent or potential presidents hailing from the Democratic party ever running so far beyond the pale as Donald Trump has, so he’s not worried about karma coming back.
And now we have the Speaker of the House, Mike Johnson, who has completely subsumed his authority to Donald Trump’s will. He has decided the House shouldn’t actually be conducting any business, because the president is happier to have the government shut down, so he can rampage however he wants.
The Supreme Court, unfortunately, is beyond our power to correct in the near term. The way the Justices are chosen requires waiting for those currently in office to leave in order to replace them. And let’s face it, there doesn’t appear to be anyone even on the horizon with the strength of John Marshall or the moral fiber of David Davis.
The make-up Congress, however, is—at least, theoretically (but see my several previous pieces on Gerrymandering)—something we can affect. I say it is time to elect Senators and Representatives who will stand up, not necessarily for me and my views, but for the strength of the Congress. Congress needs to restore itself to its role as a co-equal branch of the government.
Far too often, among the Republicans and Trumpians in the Congress, we see people who are far more interested in doing what Trump wants so that he won’t attack them. Can they possibly be proud of their service? Or are they merely keeping their seats warm? Liz Cheney stood up for right over party, and was punished for it by losing her seat. But as much as I disagree with many of her views, she earned my respect. The problem was, she was one voice in a vast sea of the voiceless, and thus, easy to target. The other members of Congress need to find their voices, to stand up, not to keep knuckling under.
I may not have agreed with their policies or their actions, but did anyone ever doubt the Congressional allegiance, the strength, the patriotism, of prior Senate Majority Leaders such as Robert Byrd, Mike Mansfield, Everett Dirksen, Lyndon Baines Johnson, or Henry Cabot Lodge? Similarly, will the House of Representatives ever feel the need to remember the service of Mike Johnson as it does Tip O’Neill, Carl Albert, Sam Rayburn, or Nicholas Longworth?
Donald Trump has gone off the rails. He cares nothing for the Constitution, law, or tradition, and is interested only in lining his own pockets and glorifying his own name. But if the rest of the government was functioning as it should, the damage Trump could inflict would be minimized. But with the Supreme Court saying only “Yes, sir,” while Congress’s leaders say “We’ll do whatever Trump wants,” our government, our nation, is in danger.
And yes, I know I’ve not mentioned the Democratic leaders. Chuck Schumer and Hakeem Jeffries, too, are falling down on their jobs. They’re doing what they can in their minorities, but it sure feels like they could be doing, could be saying, more. And their younger colleagues, the flaming liberal branch of the party who don’t recognize that good government is negotiation, compromise, and not getting everything? They, too, are not doing us any favors.
Term limits are not, and never have been, the answer. But whether you vote Republican or Democratic, I urge you—in the strongest terms possible—to vote for someone who wants to serve in Congress, not someone who wants only to kowtow to or attack the president.
Isn’t it ironic that the “crime” Donald Trump is alleging against his enemies—Federal Reserve Governor Lisa Cook, New York Attorney General Letitia James, and Senator Adam Schiff—is the same crime of which he was convicted? That is, lying on loan applications to get better rates from banks. How many times as a defendant did Trump say “no one got hurt, the banks got their money back, so there was no crime”? But now that it’s his enemies, suddenly it’s a horrid crime. Although, remember that Trump was tried (and convicted) of multiple instances of that non-crime, while these three are accused of one instance each.
Ian Randal Strock 