lapillus

In the unlikely event I mention going to see an Arthur Miller play in the future, please remind me VEHEMENTLY that I do not want to go. The same goes for all Eugene O'Neill, Tennessee Williams and Anton Chekov productions. Oh, and Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, and King Lear, too. That it doesn't matter if I have season tickets. Or a friend, teacher, coworker or relative in the production, I should avoid them at all costs. They leave me wanting not only the characters dead (much sooner than they have the courtesy to end up that way) but most of the rest of the population of the planet. They inevitably raise my inability to tolerate wallowing, stupidity and willful blindness to heights.