Tboy is a tiny bit depressed.

'Cause the blog slapfest he discovered yesterday morning was kinda unpretty.

Hold on a sec, while Tboy puts away the third person. The vaguely antic air it adds to things doesn't seem quite right this time. There, that's better.

Now, I'll alert you right up front that I'm not gonna link to anything in this post.  I mean, the aforementioned exchange of hostilities between DC theaterfolk is out there, with names attached, so I can't see how anyone could construe a link to it as being mean-spirited.  Based on what I've been reading, you all don't need any help harshing on each other.

But I'm still not gonna link to it. I just don't have the appetite, somehow.

I thought for a bit about why that might be, and came up with one possible answer: Perhaps because it's out there with names attached. When you guys attack each other anonymously on this site (and even when you attack me anonymously), it's easy enough to dismiss the bile.  But when bylines are appended, an exchange like the one I read over my morning coffee becomes more serious -- a deadly earnest declaration of mutual dislike that the principals can't back away from. And while I certainly have my doubts about some of you, I don't know that I dislike anyone quite that much.

That's part of why Theaterboy came out of the closet a year or so ago.  I'll confess that there were moments, when my authorship of this blog was still nominally a secret, in which I was tempted to take a cheap shot just because I could. To avoid the temptation, I put my name and photo on the bio page; that way, I knew, I'd always have to live up to my better instincts.

Of course there are people who think even my better instincts aren't so good--that I still take cheap shots. It won't surprise anyone here that I disagree with that assessment. I think that what I do on Theaterboy, for the most part, is a kind of theater-biz reporting that print outlets don't have the space or the appetite for: short items, inside-baseball items, and other things that theaterfolk are discussing but a general readership couldn't possibly care about.

Nevertheless, when I chase items I do chase them the way a reporter would, and I don't report even a rumor if I don't have it from what I consider a reliable source.  And while there may be those who feel that the snark with which I sometimes report those rumors is unbecoming, I reply only this: Have you read the City Paper?  We hold everybody's feet to the fire, including our own writers and editors, when they seem to be inviting it. Sometimes we do it in a straightforward tone; sometimes there's snark. It's all part of what we think of as a "high-low" approach to engaging with the world: We write from an informed, intelligent, sometimes even an intellectual position--but we aren't afraid to call things like we see 'em, and sometimes that means taking the piss.

And here, as at the City Paper, I think it's fair game when I hear that somebody's done something bizarre, whether it's in the office, or in rehearsal, or at the pub after a show. Commenting on it is just what I do -- much as I comment when I see something perplexing on a stage.

As I think I've said before: To imagine that it's unbecoming for a critic to raise an eyebrow at what happens behind the scenes is to imagine that a critic must operate under the assumption that good theater is made only by perfect people -- and vice-versa. And that's just naive.

Interestingly, as I type this, Diane Rehm is having a conversation about the art of conversation -- in particular about the disappearing art of raillery, in which intelligent people banter teasingly, but always with a sense of good humor -- and about the corrosive effect of the Internet on that most entertaining diversion. It occurs to me that raillery is a good label for what I've always tried to do here, and that perhaps, despite my best efforts, the format sometimes means it doesn't translate.

Then again, the dustup I was talking about at the top of this post has its roots in a conversation at a cocktail party earlier this week--so things get lost in translation in all kinds of contexts, I suppose. Maybe Person A really is a supercilious, hurtful creature, and meant every condescending syllable. Or maybe not: Maybe Person A meant one thing, and Person B heard another through the filter of an unfortunate shared history, and Person C has gone overboard in the attempt to do something about B's hurt feelings.

One thing's for sure: Names have been called, and not pretty ones, either. And there's no coming down from them barricades.

Comments

[huh?]

I have no idea what that post was about, which I guess is a good thing.

[Jim]

I'm with you, "huh". Must have something to do with the whole Tom Cruise, Chef, South Park bruhaha. Or at least, be as significant.

[Jack Marshall]

A very thoughtful and sound post, TBoy; I wouldn't disagree with any of it, and of course, I know exactly what you're talking about. Blogging is a powerful means of communication, and those who engage in it have to take care not use it in a way that gratuitously hurts others, intentionally or otherwise, and be prepared to own up and apologize if they do. From what I have read, your blog has walked this tightrope deftly indeed. We all owe you a debt of gratitude for that.

[composeyourself]

I'm just happy to say 'I didn't do it' this time! :)

[heihachi]

Arg Tboy, why do you torture us so. I have no idea of what you are typing....

[heihachi]

Never fails, I always find it after I give up looking. I don't really know either of the two combatants (or the blogger and the combatants knight in shining armor, as it were), but I am starting to really enjoy reading that blog of hers.

In regards to the dustup, back in the day when Cherry Red had PlaySkool, I was guilty of occasionally bashing shows I had seen and hated while others praised them to the sky. When it got a lil too nasty (off the rails of raillery?) my wife would remind me to think about the kind of energy I put out into the world. Don't punch holes in other peoples boats, and all that. Though I don't totally agree with the 'never' aspect and 'always play nice', there are some people and situations that deserve it.

I'm not sure that this is one of those situations. (But like I said, I don't really know the two in question.)

Do we have to like everybody and always get along? Sometimes the drama is educational (for everybody). I hesitate to say what I've learned, but it doesn't reflect well on everybody involved.

"Oh, does so and so have a big ego?"

"Oh, does so and so always pick fights and cause trouble?"

[Novathespian]

So who did Jack Marshall piss off now? Bet he has goats in his back yard again.

[theaterboy]

Now, now. Let's all play nice. Though the goats bit *is* funny.

[dcepticon]

heihachi,

Just as a point of interest were you the one who wrote the review of Ubu and said everyone in the show was good but Scott McCormick? If so remind me to hit you up side the head tonight.

Nothing but warm wishes,

[Jack Marshall]

The goats and I parted on very good terms, but my neighbors and wife have barely spoken to me in the two years since they arrived, so , yeah, heihachi has a valid point...

[Novathespian]

Neighbors and wife dont speak to you anymore? Where can I get some goats? lol

[luckyspinster]

in reading this post and comment thread, i've gone from curious to afraid.

goats?

[Novathespian]

Lucky Spinster,

Jack and TACT did a production of Mr. Roberts a couple of years back that included a live goat on stage. Apparently the goat got out of his back yard during the run and one of his neighbors turned him in for having a goat which isnt allowed under code in Alexandria.

[Jack Marshall]

Novathespian: just for the record...it was TWO goats, they escaped FOUR times (in three months) and the neighbor in the final escape didn't have to report me, because he was an Alexandria judge. The one neighbor who actually liked the goats was the one who owned two Belgian sheepdogs, who happily herded Catherine and Heidi when they jumped into the dogs'enclosure.

TACT's "Mister Roberts" wasn't what it could or should have been, but we definitely had a better goat than the Kennedy Center's production.