The Real Fake Paul McCartney

Existing in my body is very painful. I lift weights to minimize that pain. I eat fruits and veggies and protein and fiber and carbs and fats within an enjoyable balance because my body is physically more pleasant to live in when I do.

I work out to maximize how good I can feel in my body. I eat nutrients and seek adequate hydration and prioritize rest to maximize how good I can feel literally just existing in my body.

Which again, is a baseline painful experience. I love fitness because it's a series of tools I can use to maximize how good it's possible to feel existing in an otherwise painful existence.

This is why I see red when I see "no pain no gain" mentalities. That is fundamentally the opposite of what I'm doing here. I hate seeing fitness popularized as a way of increasing suffering.

I pursue fitness for the exact same reason I smoke weed and make decadent desserts:

Because it makes me feel fantastic.

It's rude. You're making someone take their time to read something you couldn't bother to write. You're telling them they were so unimportant you couldn't be bothered to actually take the time to say something yourself. And frankly, you're lying about it while you're at it.

Malvolio’s Revolve

The joy of Shakespeare is that even if you see the same play dozens of times, each production is its own, unique experience.

Having said that… there are certain bits of stage business that often crop up in numerous productions. One of my favorites is Malvolio’s revolve.

Just for fun, here are various examples of Malvolio’s revolve that have been captured on film. (If the gifs don’t work, check out my original post here.)

Alec Guinness in the 1970 ITV Saturday Night Theatre production  does the classic dubious, self-conscious revolve, although Sir Toby and his gang are safely behind a hedge and don’t have to hide.

Nicholas Pennell in this 1986 filmed production at the Stratford Festival of Canada executes a confident and rarely-seen double revolve, forcing his peanut gallery to duck out of sight.

In this filmed version of the Renaissance Theatre Company’s 1988 production, Richard Briers executes a very slow , dubious revolve that is notable for being counter-clockwise. In my experience, most Malvolios revolve in a clockwise direction.

Finally, this Stratford Festival production milks the revolve for all it’s worth, with Tom Rooney’s Malvolio turning at just the right speed to miss Sir Andrew’s desperate dash across the stage.

polite greeting (it's me, boy)

introduction (i'm the ps5)

establish credentials (speaking to you inside your brain)

establish purpose (leave the girl, we don't need her)