London Calling; Billy Pilgrim Denies the Call on iPhone

Westminster Abbey

A building rich with history and over-brimming with wealthy and famous corpses. Though initially build for the Catholic faith, Westminster Abbey serves as a central base of the Anglican faith, and the official site of coronations, weddings, and burials of the English monarchy. Correction, was the official site of burials before OH MY GOD THIS PLACE IS TOO FULL! For instance, Ben Johnson (England's first poet laureate) is buried standing up, and this was hundreds of years ago. Since that time: every crack, cranny, corner, and crypt has been filled with either a corpse or commemorative plaque. While the burial site of many great historical figures, the Abbey offers the tourist attraction of walking on the graves of everyone from Charles Darwin to Charles Dickens. Nothing to do with disrespect, rather walking over graves is just inevitable by this point. But when offered the opportunity to be buried in the building with everyone from King Henry V to Winston Churchill, the price you pay is having tourists from every corner of this spherical world trod on your resting place while stumbling along to an audio guide. That and ungodly amounts of money.

In view of such egos from beyond the grave (do 19^th century statesmen really need more impressive tombs than monarchs?) the most touching experience is that of grave of the Unknown Soldier, a symbol for all those lost in WWI, which no one (not even the Queen) walks on. Continually covered in poppies, this otherwise un-lavish grave receives the utmost of respect. In contrast to other tombs, the modesty and reverence of this grave is vastly moving compared with more elaborate shows of wealth and status. On a separate note, there is a small plaque denoting where Oliver Cromwell was buried for three years before he was dug up, re-executed for ceremony, and buried in separate places. Separate places as in separate pieces. Anyway, Westminster Abbey serves great significance, and has a much more expansive history, but that's my experience of the day with rich, famous dead people. 

City of York

York is a picturesque English town, located in the Northlands near the Scottish border. The wonderful York Minster Abbey, seat of the Archbishop of York, features towering Gothic architecture and half the stained glass in all of England. The Minster is currently undergoing massive restoration to the York stone and intricate East window, planning to be restored to full Godly glory by 2016. This cathedral dates back to the Roman era under the rule of Constantine (about 307AD), though the church has undergone several renovations throughout the millenniums. Similar to St.Paul's Cathedral in London, the York skyline does not impose the view of the Minster, allowing the building to tower from the center of town and help serve as orientation. You may also climb the Minster's tower for the highest viewpoint in York (five pound fee), and if you race up all 275 steps at breakneck pace, you may even have a few minutes alone at the top for those prone to solitude. The rest of York is strongly rooted in Roman history, as the Romans established York as a major seat of power to rule the British Isles; the Roman walls surrounding the old city are remarkably intact, open for a stroll during daylight and lit in parts by color phasing LEDs at night. On weekend nights, this sleepy town does awaken to a pub and club scene: if you stand by the riverfront you can witness anything from top hats to Zorro costumes. I had to pleasure to stroll the riverfront after England had lost a match to Wales in the Rugby World Cup, meaning the local populace was out and indulging in what could only be described as a “vengeance”. In the daylight however, York is a quaint town filled with adorable shops and an extremely healthy population of talented buskers (see below).

Rievaulx Abbey

Situated an hour into the countryside, the remains of Rievaulx Abbey are some of the most stunning old ruins you will come across. Once a marvelous Abbey community, the buildings fell into disrepair and eventual ruin due to the Reformation -also known as King Henry VIII saying “don't mind if I do” to ransacking Catholic institutions and adding the collected wealth to his already brimming exchequer. Today, the remains of these Gothic structures still (mostly) stand impressively over immaculate lawns. A scenic designer's dream and the most incredible settings for Shakespeare in the park, if not for being in the middle of nowhere (well, outside Hensley but close enough to nowhere). I appreciated the bands of sheep in the background, but I don't think the sheep fully appreciate what a glorious grazing site they have.

Cambridge University

Cambridge University will not let you walk on the lawns. And they are not called quads (like at that peasantry Oxford place), no, here the lawns are called “courts” and heaven forbid (or at least Cambridge) that you disturb a single blade of that immaculate and pristine grass. Featuring the first chapel/building designed by Christopher Wren (who built other things like St. Paul's cathedral), and brags something like 32 Nobel Peace Price winners from Trinity College alone (one of the many colleges making up Cambridge University) including people like Newton. Until recently, all of the English monarchy attended college here. They take themselves very seriously. Sorry, I'm bitter after hearing them complain about paying for their college education what college students in America pay for less than one year. I didn't want to know the amounts, but some one just had to ask. Oh, and if you can't pay off your debts in England by age 55, they are just straight acquitted. Essay prompt: why is America the greatest country in the world? Seriously, I want to know.   

The Coronet; The Cocktail Party

Firstly, the intimate space offered by the Print Room in the Coronet was the perfect space for T.S. Elliot's ghostly drawing room drama. An old neglected cinema, the theatre is in the process of being restored and is currently in crux between the past and the future. The paint may be peeling in parts, yet the original Victorian architecture is glorious, giving the space a feel of history and charming potential. Catching The Cocktail Party at the crossroads between the space's past and future added the perfect atmosphere to this challenging piece. Elliot's play begins as a classic, twittering, drawing room comedy where a man's wife has left, providing no explanation, immediately prior to a cocktail party in which he must invent excuse for her absence. As the guests depart, a mysterious stranger swiftly sends the show into much deeper themes of love, betrayal, spirituality and salvation. The dialogue delivers satirical elements while sweeping undercurrents of deeper existential mysteries carry the play. The playing space itself was sparse; featuring only three chairs, two doorways, a table, and a telephone mounted on the bare back wall. This was a choice that complimented the mood of the piece, and a serious nod to the director for keeping the actor's blocking diverse and engaging within a limited space. The execution could never be called “stagnant”; though Elliot's grandiose ideologies could be hard to follow, no matter how well the team brought them into a glorious actualization. 

The National Theatre; Jane Eyre

I will preface this review by saying; when it comes to the most famous and most brilliant of Gothic romances, I just don't care. I don't care about Jane Eyre's trials and eventual reward. I don't care about Mr.Rochester's inner demons and eventual redemption. After reading Jean Rhys' Wide Sargasso Sea (a prequel novel on the marriage of Betsy and the young Rochester) I prefer my Gothic romance with zombies and black magic juju. So I really just don't care about Jane Eyre, even in an innovative three hour stage epic. That being said, hats off to the team of this production. An original version of the classic, devised by the company in eight weeks time; this production featured marvelous physical theatre tricks, a fantastic live band, real flames, and an intriguing amount of ladders. The company performed perfectly, the atmospheres created where immaculate, and as a devised project, this production was nothing short of brilliant. The ingenuity expressed in translating the novel to the stage was truly inspiring, and I think this company is truly brilliant. But I still didn't and still don't care about Jane Eyre. Call me uneducated, I just don't go in for the whole “poor woman leads hard life but is eventually appreciated and awarded for her inner beauty” cup of tea when that cup of tea is three hours long. 

Spitting Fire; Spouting Rain

Our acting class with the incredible James Roose-Evans has commenced at RADA studios. Our instructor possess the honesty of an 87 year old man whose job is not to shelter egos, and yet the grace to not be callous or abusive. We drill seemingly simple (yet deceptively complex) exercises such as "walk through this door" or exclaim "the sky is blue". These exercises were intimidating during the first session, yet filled with immense possibility by the second class. At the end of the first day, James had each student construct their personal story, allotting us time to think and then perform from a chair facing an imaginary audience while the rest watched from the sidelines. While initially I mistook this as some sort of cute, get to know everyone exercise, I realized after class James was establishing a natural baseline for each of us; reading our posture, speech patterns, and vocal range more than the words we chose. James has established the weaknesses I must improve, and challenges me with a delicately brutal honesty. This man is brilliant. 

Classes include; Shakespeare (previously noted), Society and Shelter (British history), Cultures in Contact (all these sites/events), British Theatre and Dance (all these shows), and Acting (there is no fancy name for this). Life is busy; I don't have time to be depressed, and constantly too exhausted to be ecstatically happy. 

1,000 Words:

The Call to Billy Pilgrim and the Shadow of Malexander Supertourist

Natural History Museum

The Natural History Museum in South Kensington is a wonder in two parts. Firstly, Alfred Waterhouse's Romanesque architecture is stunning (ignoring the modern expansion), featuring a variety of terracotta ornamentation fitting to each exhibits theme¹. Without entering a single exhibit, the building itself makes for a worthwhile visit. But of course the natural treasures are worth a glance or stare. While the exhibits include everything you'd expect to find in a Natural History Museum, the exhibits are of course all expansive, and picking your interests will save you a head-ache. For instance, I love mammals, but am not inspired by taxidermy, so I can't tell you anything of that section (although impressive I'm sure). What I can recommend is the Treasure Room and the Vault. The Treasure Room features amazing natural artifacts that are also historical milestones: from the first discovered Neanderthal skull and meteorite; from a first edition copy of Darwin's On the Origin of the Species (which features a Venus-like mostly naked lady -sex sells evolution) to an original painting of John James Audubon. Plus a Dodo bird skeleton. Complete treat for any science and/or history geek.

The Vault, at the back of the geology exhibit, features some of the museums finest geological treasures. Mars meteorites, cursed jewels, and a elaborately decorated diamond and gold encrusted snuff box. Most impressive perhaps is a display featuring the Aurora Pyramid of Hope; a collection of 296 diamonds featuring the entire natural color range. Some of these diamonds react to ultra-violet light (which the display phases in and out of) shining with a rare neon florescence, hence being named after the Aurora Borealis. I can only assume that the name “The Vault” is not mere decoration and would hate to see how securely and quickly the room would lock down if any alarm was tripped.

Many more exhibits are housed in this building, but after these two rooms housing some of the best of the museums natural treasures (as well as the architecture being a treasure in of itself), I was able to walk away having seen as much natural beauty and historical artifacts as my mind can handle in a single afternoon.

Sadler's Wells; Barbarians

Barbarians is not a dance piece for everyone. During the talk back, an American audience member stated cheerleaders danced better. The sound design could be described as “oppressive”, with the bass tones rattling your seat. The energy and lighting was similar to a rock concert at times, too a further degree than I would have expected if not for the name of the trilogy (I mean, “Barbarians” is kind of a hint, right?) to the point that someone should have sold ear plugs in the lobby. The pieces were intense enough that several of our group suffered extremely strong emotional responses. So it was not for everyone. By the Gods of all things performance, I swear the pieces felt like Samuel Beckett had teamed with Stanley Kubrick in some alternative universe to produce dance.

In what was an entrancing evening; Hofesh Shechter Company produced with Sadler's Wells Theatre an ineffable interpretation on love (intimacy and all things beautiful) and more love (obsession and all things ugly) in brutal honesty. To a sound track ranging from pulsing techno, raging drum and bass, upbeat hip-hop, to classical baroque. Yes baroque. “English Country Garden” to be more specific. The theatre was brimming with manufactured fog so that every angle and movement of the many automated lights (used extensively and timed perfectly to audio cues) was clear and vivid. There was a voice over that sounded like the wife of HAL 9000. There was gold spandex and full lederhosen. There was a psychiatrist chair and teddy bear utilized for the talk back with the choreographer. The final duet ranged from sensual, to all out violently sexual. This piece was out there in style, but a style that I completely resonated with, though I was disappointed not to see more heads bobbing in time with the music. Can't recommend Barbarians to those not ready for the completely barbaric, though after two amazing shows, I can recommend Sadler's Wells Theatre to anyone ready to see innovative and powerful dance performances. 

The Journey

"One day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began,

though the voices around you

kept shouting

their bad advice-

though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug

at your ankles

'Mend my life!'

each voice cried.

But you didn't stop. 

You knew what you had to do,

though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations,

though their melancholy 

was terrible.

It was already late

enough, and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen 

branches and stones.

But little by little,

as you left their voices behind, 

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice

which you slowly 

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,

determined to do

the only thing you could do

determined to save 

the only life you could save."

                                   -Mary Oliver

1"History and Architecture." Natural History Museum. Trustees of the Natural History Museum. Web. 22 Sept. 2015.

The Call to Misadventure in an Ordinary World

Plays and Plays

Young Vic Theatre; Song from Far Away

A one man tour-de-force on death and grieving; this piece by Simon Stephens and singer/songwriter Mark Eitzel is a Toneelgroep Amsterdam production, co-produced and featured at the Young Vic Theatre in Waterloo. Upon returning to New York from a family funeral in Amsterdam, Willem enacts letters written to his dead brother during the week of the funeral. Jan Versweyveld's scenic and lighting style of realism, slipping faintly into a heightened reality at moments, featured intricate detail including a live air conditioner unit. Ranging from vast introspection on the meanings of life and death, to deep self-reflection on identity and humanity; the plays philosophies were at times beautiful and often harrowing. The story's theme followed the realities of the grieving process (and the difference between people's individual processes), therefore the tragedy was very rational; none of the melodramatic or romantic styling of death, just the cold reality of the inevitable, mainly including those still living on. The guilt, regret,detachment and remorse felt by the sole character was too accessible to many in our group. A sadly realistic and beautifully honest play, Song From Far Away was a piece everyone can, unfortunately, relate to in some fashion. (Also, apparently the great Sir Ian Mckellen was there that night. A review in its own right.)

The National Theatre; The Beaux' Stratagem

The National's production of George Farquhar's famous play was a smashing success. There is something about the two hours of situation establishment and build up, and the climatic explosion as everything implodes and resolves, that is unique to restoration plays. The build up was entertaining. The climax was unforgettable. While certain plot elements (i.e. the romance) resolves in a somewhat predictable end, the journey there is filled with enough mishaps and misadventures that the show delivers the best of 'light' entertainment. Of especial note was the National's band of musicians and the elaborate scenic design; the music carried the almost three hour show, while the intricate scene switches (between a poor hotel and rich estate) were fluid and utterly flawless. Solid all around entertainment (though perhaps too bawdy for the 'whole family'), the National executed the Beaux' Stratagem with colorful costumes, melodious song, synchronized dance, absurd stage combat, and well chosen stage techs; all combining to enhance the wonderful cast of characters in a sprawling comedy. After a dance filled curtain call, the band played out the audience to a lively tune that had everyone clapping rhythmically. I don't know what more to want from a farce.

The Globe Theatre; The Orestreia

Well. The Globe is a modernized reconstruction of the classic theatre. Differences include: the use of modern lighting, viewing accommodations for half the size of the old crowds, flyovers to/from Heathrow airport, and the offer to be bounced for reckless heckling/gambling/prostitution. Otherwise, the spirit of the Globe Theatre is preserved for locals and tourists on the Southbank. The yard offers cheap five pound standing-room space and a chance to interact with actors.

Now. Rory Mullarkey's adaptation of the Greek classic the Orestreia. Billed by the Globe as a combination of Breaking Bad and The Godfather, this show may have included one of the most bizarre costume designs I will ever witness. In attempt to represent the 'timelessness' of the piece, the costumes jumped location and time without any warning. The chorus was in mafioso dress, Agamemnon and soldiers were featured in classic Greek armor, Apollo wore a classic toga while Athena sported a dress made of pure glitter, and the avenging-son/hero was dressed in a T-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes. When the gang of modern riot police walked on 10 minutes after the classic Greek soldiers, I couldn't help from laughing. And I didn't really stop. The set walls/pillars wobbled greatly on impact or from the shutting of doors. The music was composed of clarinets and french horn, except an odd moment of dupstep-like-techno when the Furies were introduced. I had to enjoy this show as a very silly (albeit bloody) black comedy. I felt affirmed in this belief by the entrance of a five foot tall gold penis statue with wings (love to be at that production meeting) alongside a prop dead goat missing a horn. I laughed. I didn't cry. I don't know if that's what they were going for.

As my first experience at the Globe Theatre, and the fifth show to round off seven nights of London, my only feeling walking away from this show was “far too sober” after sitting on wooden seats for three hours. I applaud the cast for their genuine efforts. I congratulate the Globe on taking risks. I have no idea what in the hell I just saw. 

Sights and Sites

The Museum of London

The Museum of London, located downtown North of St. Paul's Cathedral, is overflowing with facts and artifacts from the rich history of the city. While the focus of the museum was more contained than the British Museum (featuring artifacts from cultures around the world), the wealth of information was as overwhelming as all good museums inevitably get for me after a period of time.

As the layout of the museum is chronological order with the exhibits sectioned off into periods, and each exhibit features a specific aesthetic to match the artifacts within. The Dark Ages and Medieval periods were lumped into a single exhibit spanning to the reign of King Henry VIII, which became the section I burned out into information overload. Also, while this chronological layout made for a lovely stroll through the ages, I found the route within the exhibits to be somewhat convoluted; sometimes noticing I had accidentally jumped 300 years by following the wrong row of displays. Other than these slight confusions, the museum is packed with interactive displays, rich information, and an unmatched chronicle of the history of London (accessible at no charge).

My negative experience of the day was looking at a time-line when some young tourists in business suits began viewing the same time-line and using popular culture as their only point of reference. “Huh, the Magna Carta. Oh yeah, I've seen that Braveheart movie” says one. “Oh, the War of the Roses, that's that thing Game of Thrones is based off of.” After being in proximity for the length of two sentences, I'm vastly increasing the length between myself and them in the exhibit. Despite the speed-bump, I plan to revisit the museum and recommend a visit to any visitor of the city. I assume locals already know, considering they roam the exhibits in loud packs of fifty fifth-graders.

Greenwich Trip

The Greenwich district outside London features the Old Royal Observatory (including the physical meridian line, which is supposedly a few yards off from where it should be), the Old Royal Naval College, the National Maritime Museum, as well as other maritime attractions such as the restored Cutty Sark ship. Mornings might be recommended, as the afternoons can get a little packed with crowds. Our trip left the city of London via ferry down the Thames River, (a bit of a long and less scenic train ride to/from the city) fitting to arrive by water to a classically maritime area. Visiting the Observatory, now operating as a museum about the development of time; specifically as a navigational tool, but also general development throughout the ages. The Observatory is situated atop of a fabulous hill overlooking the Thames and the docklands; a classical spot for painters and artists throughout the ages. The hill is rather steep however, and handicap assistance is non-existent/discontinued.

At the base of the hill rests the Naval College and the Maritime Museum. The Naval College features the intricate Painted Hall (a scenic designers dream room, featuring impressive amounts Trompe-l'œil painting to make flat surfaces look dimensional) detailing the rise and fall of English monarchs in murals crowded with Greek mythology and much symbolism. Commonly called 'the Sistine Chapel of the UK', a major highlight of Sir James Thornhill's 5,683 square foot mural is the image of King William III literally crushing King Louis XIV under his boot heel; placed prominently in the dead center of the ceiling¹. Directly across the lawn from the Painted Hall is the Chapel of St Peter and St Paul, an amazing piece of religious architecture in which even the loudest tourists must express reverence and silence. Although even the chapel has maritime designs and symbols.

Finally, the National Maritime Museum contains information tailored to everyone from the curious to the naval fanatic; for instance, that Henry VIII was instrumental in the creation of lighthouses². The museum offers extensive exhibits ranging from the East India Trading Company to the unsung naval heroes of WWI, as well as some of the best entertainment for children I've ever witnessed at a museum. Also featuring an array of Lord Nelson's treasures: the jacket he was killed in during the battle of Trafalgar, along with a fragment of the Union Jack flown from his ship Victory during the same battle (apparently the flag was intended to be buried with him, but the sailors instead crafted souvenirs by ripping the flag into sections)³. As the mob of locals and tourists swelled with the afternoon, I did not explore the rest of the district, though these sites easily make the Greenwich area a worthwhile visit.

Speakers Corner; Hyde Park

Hyde Park offers many, many things to see and do. There is the free Serpentine Gallery, paddle boating, and expansive space to indulge in any sort of lawn sport or recreational activity. The park is sprawling enough that even in perfect weather on a weekend, finding a niche is an easy task. Only on Sunday afternoons however, will there be the Speaker's Corner outside the Marble Arch entrance. In soap-boxing tradition, people may step up and off of British soil to say whatever they would like (with the exception of speaking against the monarchy). While the speakers mostly consisted of Fire and Brimstone religious fanatics (straight from the set of Monty Python's Life of Brian), the general atmosphere is one of challenge and discourse with the majority of people engaging in polite argument. Of course some participants engage in arguments without any form of politeness.

Here on Sunday afternoons, if you want to stand on a step stool twenty feet away from religious advocates and say things like “Jesus Christ was a fucking con artist” you can (note: some one did). Just don't bad mouth the Queen, and you are free to spew whatever challenging and/or crazy thoughts you feel like projecting on the rest of the people gathered. There was a provoking discussion on the changes of feminism throughout the decades, during which a grandmother was told her opinion was stupid by a fellow listener. There was a man who may have been practicing an odd form of stand up comedy. I expected to hear more discussions on Syrian refugees. Mostly I was told that I would burn in Hell, and only my lord and savior Jesus Christ could save me. An entertaining intellectual circus, Speaker's Corner is worth a visit when you are in the area on Sundays. If the weather is nice, you can simply stroll off and find a delightful spot among the park's many trees, once you've had your fill of other people's intellectual bullshit.

"Which Hope we have as an anchor of the soul both sure and steadfast." 

-Billy Pilgrim                          

1"Painted Hall." RSS. Royal Naval College. Web. 20 Sept. 2015.

2Guiding Lights: 500 Years of the Trinity House and Safety at Sea. N.d. Museum Exhibit. National Maritime Museum, Greenwich.

3Nelson, Navy, Nation. N.d. Museum Exhibit. National Maritime Museum, Greenwich.

A Brave and Ordinary World

The Borough Market and the Queen's Walk

Conveniently off the London Bridge underground station, the Borough Market lives and breathes on Borough High Street with it's neighbor Southwark Cathedral. Features an array of produce and a capital selection of artisan meats, breads, and dairy arranged throughout it's three sections: Green Market, Three Crown Square, and Jubilee Place. Everything from wild boar meat pies, to ale and cheese pairings; lobster to bratwurst. Food stuffs aplenty, packed in the cracks between the swarms of people. Recommend the sausage butty; the brown sauce is quite delicious, though I have no idea what it is. 

The Queen's Walk is a promenade along the South Bank of the River Thames. While the shops along this stroll can be a little beyond the budget traveler, there are cafe's a plenty and usually a busker or two playing live music around the right tunnels. Stretching from London Bridge to the London Eye, the Queen's Walk offers an enjoyable stroll filled with sights like the Globe Theatre, the HMS Belfast, with views of Parliament and St. Paul's Cathedral across the Thames. An enjoyable lengthy stroll with plenty to see while spending next to nothing (as a general rule; if you stop to listen and enjoy a buskers music, give them as much as you can and/or they deserve) Recommend starting at Tower Hill on the North Bank, which allows you to cross the impressive Tower Bridge and wander the swanky business section before the cultural/geological shift into the Queen's Walk. Promenade if you can. 

Roses, Globes, Swans, and Fortunes

Our Shakespeare class has begun with the wonderful and charming Charles Duffs. The class convenes at the Swedenborg Society bookstore at 20 Bloomsbury Way, a short stroll across the park from the Pickwick. Through the back of the bookstore and down the stairs, the Gardiner Room is lined with old volumes, and convening in such a room in the basement of a quaint but grand bookstore fulfills some subconscious dream I was not aware I possessed. After our first class covering the early history of the first London Theatres (the Theatre, the Rose, the Globe, the Swan, and the Fortune), we met with Liz Carlin-Metz (our program leader) for a discussion of the rest of term, and a musing on aesthetics. 

"Beauty is Truth, Truth Beauty -that is all ye know on Earth, and all ye need to know."

                                                                                                                        -Keats

The National Theatre; Our Country's Good

The National Theatre is located on the South Bank across the Waterloo bridge. Crafted in the brutalist style of architecture, this impressive mass of garnish concrete is lit beautifully was different colors on different nights. This lighting makes the theatre far more aesthetic at night, and helps makes Waterloo Bridge one of the best views of the Thames/North/South Bank nightlights from street-view. 

A delightful and provoking piece, Our Country's Good by Timberlake Wertenbaker (adapted from the novel The Playmaker by Thomas Keneally) chronicles a British prison colony in Australia as Second Lieutenant Ralph Clark organizes a performance of The Recruiting Officer with a cast of inmates. The play features rich drama on prisons and colonization, combined with hilarious melodrama on the theatre. The National's production featured mesmerizing music (featuring the essential didgeridoo) and make full use of song. Full credit to the cast and crew, as the design and direction came together seamlessly for a marvelous performance. 

The Misadventure of the Door and the Locksmith

When returning to your room at the Pickwick and your key doesn't work, knock at your door even if your roommates asleep. 

When your roommate can't unlock the door from the inside, check with the late night maid. 

When the late night maid can't unlock the door either, wait patiently while she calls her boss. 

When Patrick (manager of the Pickwick) arrives, explain what the problem is. 

When Patrick attempts to break into the room by any means necessary with a screwdriver, rubber mallet, plastic wallet card, etc, grab a butter-knife in case that helps. 

When the butter knife does not help, try everything again desperately before calling a locksmith. 

When the second attempt fails, call that locksmith. This is London, there are locksmiths at 11:30 pm. 

When the locksmith arrives and replaces the lock mechanism, thank him profusely. 

When the locksmith leaves and your door has a new lock, pass out immediately; that's enough misadventure for one evening. 

When you wake in the morning and Patrick illustrates that the old lock was not broken as everyone thought, but that there is a small knob that locks the bolt in place and your roommate had essentially locked himself in said room accidentally and only needed to adjust said knob: summon the courage to not be rude to anyone involved.* 

*Especial thanks to Patrick for his patience and manners throughout this fiasco. He is a Saint among nomads and the epitome of British politeness. 

Thank you Patrick. 

The Curtain Rises; the Ordinary World

The Journey; Airport Misadventure

When the Terminal for your flight is listed as a question mark, sometimes the only thing to do is receive directions from airport security.

When flying Virgin Atlantic Airlines from the international terminal in the Chicago O'Hare airport, please note that the Virgin Atlantic desk does not become the Virgin Atlantic desk until 12:30pm. Until then the desk is a Korean Airlines desk. This is not posted or explained anywhere, so now you know.

When you are flying on Virgin Atlantic, please note if your flight is operated by Delta Air, in which case you need to check in at Terminal 2, and not the Virgin Atlantic/Korean Air desk in Terminal 5.

When the directions from airport security are not as correct as you may like, the directions from the information kiosk can be more accurate. The person at least has a smart phone with a flight app if you don't. 

When on budget, you can ask for food items not on the menu. A bagel and coffee might still cost you $7.00 anyway.

When your layover is only 45 minutes, it is possible to get between the D and F terminals at Atlanta Airport, but not recommended.

When your flight offers more movies than you ever need to watch, sleep is probably the better option. 

When handed a menu for the in-flight meal, staying hungry is not on the list but possibly better than the food poisoning you may be served.

When arriving at customs at London Heathrow, there will be confusion between the general, student, disabled, and fast-track lines. Though they may move 100 people in the general line in the amount of time they move 10 students through the single customs desk, you will be rerouted to the back of the proper queue if you jump lines. 

When breathing a sigh of relief at exiting the airport, consider the commute into the city via motorway maybe condensed to a single lane due to an accident, and may take an hour longer than it should. 

The Haven; Pickwick Hall

The Pickwick offers budget travel accommodations in the lovely Bloomsbury borough, on Bedford Place between Russel Square and Bloomsbury parks. A short distance from the British Museum and the Russel Square tube stop, as well as shopping centers featuring Superdrug, Carphone Outlets, and other travel essentials. The hall features a common sitting room and a common kitchen, with washer/dryer available via purchased tokens. A light breakfast is complimentary, with toast, cereal, coffee or a delightful Earl Grey blend. Serves as launchpad for further misadventures.

The Arts; Lest We Forget

Our first production in London was the breathtaking WWI tribute Lest We Forget performed by the English National Ballet at the Sadler Wells Theatre in Islington. Ranging from classical to modern style, the show was complimented by premium lighting and costume. The live orchestra is utilized in unison with prerecorded sound design; a sample of "We're here because we're here" (Edward Dywer recording?) sent chills down the spine. I sat with my mouth hanging open, heart pounding, and tears nearly brimming over. A marvelous show from every one involved.

Lest we forget, listen as a dead man speaks:

THE PARABLE OF THE OLD MAN AND THE YOUNG

"So Abram rose, and clave the wood, and went,
And took the fire with him, and a knife.
And as they sojourned both of them together,
Isaac the first-born spake and said, My Father,
Behold the preparations, fire and iron,
But where the lamb for this burnt-offering?
Then Abram bound the youth with belts and straps,
And builded parapets and trenches there,
And stretched forth the knife to slay his son.
When lo! an angel called him out of heaven,
Saying, Lay not thy hand upon the lad,
Neither do anything to him.
Behold, A ram, caught in a thicket by its horns,
Offer the Ram of Pride instead of him.

But the old man would not so, but slew his son,
And half the seed of Europe, one by one."
                                                 -Wilfred Owen

Prologue: Fair e-Tale of the Demi Hero of Many Faces

"Behold, from the land of the farther suns; I returned. 

I am Lazarus, come from the dead, 

Come back to tell you all,

I shall tell you all"

                                          -Malexander Supertourist

In a time out of mind, there never exists a warrior. A humble and unassuming half hero, answering to different names and wearing different faces. Lacking any tether to reality; this warrior exists the King of Infinite Space, free to roam the realm of imagination. I call this warrior Billy Pilgrim. The warrior is neither male, nor named Billy Pilgrim. But I call him Billy Pilgrim, and sometimes the warrior responds. 

In a time out of place, there did exist a bastard dragon. Because even in tales without fairies, all great fairy-tales deserve a good dragon. And because dragons exist -unlike the fictional warrior, though both use many names and many faces. This dragon calls itself Malexander Supertourist. It is a silly name. It is a silly dragon. Although, like all dragons, it is still dangerous.

In a time out of time, there may exist a monster. Malexander Supertourist and Billy Pilgrim have hunted this monster, this monster has hunted them both in turn (regardless of faces). The beast is described to appear as exactly the difference 'tween a pack of monkeys and the human subconscious. The beast has no name. It does not die. It is nothing. It is fear itself. 

As metaphorical imagery of a created fiction within the human mind; these characters violently interlock in an epic eternal clash symbolic of the internal struggle against external reality. Like all characters and all stories, they first exist solely in the mind (or arguably not at all), but in the tradition of legend, when shared as stories, these fictions evolve from mind to mind, from time to time, from place to place. I give you, dear reader, my half hero. I give you my dragon. I give you my nothing. You may do with all whatever your fancy imagines, and you may call them what you like. Heroes have a thousand faces, and dragons have a thousand teeth. 

The faces I choose for my hero, like the faces I choose for my dragon, are simply reflections of myself, for better or for worse. I keep my monster faceless so that when I glance its way the abyss may stare back. At times, the landscapes of the mind can offer as many dangers as our brave old world, and as much beauty too. The character of the characters in both makes up any difference. These are the characters of my world. I take them across this new threshold, or they carry me. Sometimes we take turns. 

Non-fiction is seldom as fun a reality as fantasy. I misadventure to become a hero (or at least half one) in the Cambellian mono-myth of a study abroad term in London. My highest hopes are to eventually discover a land of lions and unicorns, either internally or externally. Some things, both of reality and fiction, will be recorded here. This chronicle is one of heroism. Whatever that means.    

 -it                           

              

"And I will try to express myself in some mode of life or art as freely as I can as wholly as I can, using for my defence the only arms I allow myself to use -silence, exile, and cunning."

-Billy Pilgrim