Writing – Life on the Wicked Stage: Act 3

Time Names Architects of AI As 2025 Person of the Year

Hype masters of the Year

There was a time when I used to buy Time Magazine’s rationale for naming someone Person of the Year. The rationale always was the person or persons chosen had the most impact during the year, whether for good or ill. I’ve changed my perspective on that, long before this year’s choice.

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This year Time Magazine named The Architects of AI as the 2025 Person of the Year.

As Time puts it:

This is the story of how AI changed our world in 2025, in new and exciting and sometimes frightening ways. It is the story of how Huang and other tech titans grabbed the wheel of history, developing technology and making decisions that are reshaping the information landscape, the climate, and our livelihoods. Racing both beside and against each other, they placed multibillion-dollar bets on one of the biggest physical infrastructure projects of all time. They reoriented government policy, altered geopolitical rivalries, and brought robots into homes. AI emerged as arguably the most consequential tool in great-power competition since the advent of nuclear weapons.

There’s no denying the individuals Time lists have had an impact. In my opinion, the list leans decidedly into the “for ill” column. You can’t argue that these folk have certainly created a new economy with all of the yet to be fulfilled promises. But, at some point there needs to be something real underneath the hype. For better or worse, and however these promises may or may not be fulfilled, I’d love to be around a few decades from now to see how the ledger balance that describes what good may have come from AI versus what bad things it left in its wake totals up.

But if any or all of the promises come true, I doubt the AI accountants will ever show us that math.

Perhaps it’s the advent of the holiday season. Perhaps it’s that I’m just not that keen on Artificial Intelligence. But I’d rather see a focus on folks who have actually done tangible good for the world rather than folks who, to this point, have only made bundles of money promising a future that may in the end turn out to be what I suspect will be just another unfulfilled promise.

While I get the intention, I also find it darkly portentous that Time includes a “Ask me anything” chatbot that follows you along the webpage as you scroll through to read the article.

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To be fair, Time does point out some of the bad things already associated with Artificial Intelligence in the article. There are a growing number of those these days, but eventually eyeballs will pass them by in the same way folks eventually look past the ever present news of gun violence. Those sitting on that girder in the photograph are counting on that.

I’m guessing future Person of the Year selections will most likely be chosen by AI, and will whitewash most of that out of the accompanying articles.

You can also find more of my writings on a variety of topics on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome. I can also be found on social media under my name as above.

Sunday Morning Reading

Hands on with playwrights, movies, smart toilets, and a discomforting rooster

Another Sunday. More snow overnight. More shoveling later. The holidays creep closer or perhaps they’re already here, given that grandpa mode has kicked into high gear. Started writing a new play out of the blue yesterday. I have no idea why, but it just tumbled out of my brain on to the screen via the keyboard. Time to share some Sunday Morning Reading. Read as you will, even if it’s on a smart toilet.

I often save the softer pieces for later in this column, but I’ll lead today with David Todd McCarty’s Christmas Means Comfort. Tell that to the rooster.

The world lost a treasure this week with the passing of architect Frank Gehry. Lee Bray writes a nice obituary and tribute. Check out Architect Frank Gehry Who Designed Millennium Park’s Pritzker Pavillion and Foot Bridge Dies at 96.

Samuel Beckett’s Hands is a terrific piece by Rob Tomlinson about, well it’s about Samuel Beckett’s hands and how Dupuytren’s contracture may have influenced not just how, but what he wrote, given that Beckett always begin his writing with pen and paper.

While I’m sharing stories about playwrights, the movie Hamnet is garnering lots of attention and accolades. (I haven’t seen it yet.) Based on Maggie O’Farrell’s excellent novel of the same name, Hamnet mostly follows accepted scholarship that William Shakespeare wrote Hamlet while grieving the death of his son, Hamnet. (At the time, the two names were practically interchangeable.) As with most things Shakespeare, there’s generally accepted knowledge and there are always those who challenge it. James Shapiro takes a look at The Long History of the Hamnet Myth.

And while I’m sharing stories about movies, take a look at Susan Morrison’s piece on How Noah Baumbach Fell (Back) In Love With The Movies.

I linked earlier this week to a piece by Phillip Bump called There Are Limits to the Hitler-Trump Comparison. Just Ask These Historians. I don’t disagree with the thesis. I just think it stops short in the way most history usually does.

Rory Rowan and Tristan Sturm write that Peter Thiel’s Apocalyptic Worldview Is A Dangerous Fantasy. Here’s hoping this first draft of our current history proves lasting.

There’s been much talk about all things military recently given how the current administration is tossing away most of what we believe the military stands for as easy as my grandson tosses away toy soldiers. Carrie Lee says The Soldier In The Illiberal State Is A Professional Dead End. I concur. Sadly.

In the wake of the cataclysm that was Twitter, social media is essentially a messy muddle these days with users continuing to migrate from one platform to another seeking some sort of place that feels comfortable enough to share and often discomfort others. Ian Dunt writes what he calls a love letter to one platform with Thank God for Bluesky.

Smart toilets were in the news this week. I actually got to see and use one at a Christmas party last night. All I could think about while doing my business was this piece by Victoria Song called Welcome To The Wellness Surveillance State.

And to conclude this week, Amogh Dimri informs us that the Oxford University Press has chosen Rage Bait as 2025’s Word of the Year. Dimiri thinks it’s a brilliant choice. I guess it begs the question, if we’re angry enough to rage, is it really baiting?

If you’re interested in just what the heck Sunday Morning Reading is all about you can read more about the origins of Sunday Morning Reading here. If you’d like more click on the Sunday Morning Reading link in the category column to check out what’s been shared on Sunday’s past. You can also find more of my writings on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome.

Living in the Past with Apple Music Replay

Musical time warps

I listen to music but I’m not a voracious listener like some are. Fact is, I spend most of my listening time with podcasts and audio books. Nevertheless, it is interesting to see what music I did spend my time listening to. Apple Music, like other music services, offers a feature to summarize what tunes you’ve tuned into over the year called Apple Music Replay.

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Given all that’s going on in the U.S currently I shouldn’t find it surprising that I spent most of my time reliving parts of my youth that were just as tumultuous as our present, revisiting a lot of Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young and The Grateful Dead as well as the musical Girl From the North Country that features the music of Bob Dylan. (I spent considerably more time with that selection last year.)

It’s also interesting to me that when I do listen to music I do so through a couple of very eclectic playlists that range over quite a few genres. I never see that reflected in these generated mixes, only artists or albums I’ve selected specifically, which tells me these lists are mostly made up from selections you’re searching for. Perhaps that explains why when I ask Siri to cue up a playlist it fails as much as it succeeds. But then again, most of those playlists contain mostly music from my past, more than contemporary selections.

Seems to me, we could all do with a little more music these days that is speaking directly to these days.

Sunday Morning Reading

Winter is coming. Or is it already here?

It’s a snowy Sunday after the Thanksgiving holiday here in Chicago. The Chicago Bears have already played this week’s game, beating the Philadelphia Eagles on Friday, sending the town into a tizzy before it got covered in a Saturday snowfall. So it feels like the perfect day to settle in and do a little Sunday Morning Reading after the shoveling and snow blowing move stuff around. Bitch of it is, the stuff still has to melt. Let’s take a look.

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Humorist Emily Bressler has a frighteningly funny piece of satire that I think sums up the chilling undercurrents in so much of what we’re living through at the moment in I Work For An Evil Company, But Outside Work, I’m Actually A Really Good Person.

Winter may be a few weeks away officially, but in Chicago, it feels like it’s here already this weekend. Actually the metaphor feels like it’s been too close for comfort for quite some time. The U.S. might be sinking ships in warmer waters threatening an invasion of Venezuela, but the Danes haven’t forgotten threats in colder climes and have been preparing. Miranda Bryant spells it out in Denmark Sets Up ‘Night Watch’ To Monitor Trump After Greenland Row.

Theaters and other arts organizations are feeling quite a chill in this inhospitable political climate these days. Adam Harrington is Taking The Temperature Of Theater In Chicago: Distress As Venues Fall, But Optimism Driving By A Vibrant Community.

Speaking of theater, Mathew Ingram takes a look at the ritualized charades that happen after a tech company gets called on the carpet for being evil in What Did Mark Zuckerberg Know And When Did He Know It? These performance art pieces happen all too frequently, regardless of venue. The audience never buys it. So why do these unfunny farces continue?

If we survive the Artificial Intelligence tsunami the next big thing that’s been the next big thing for quite some time will be when quantum computing actually turns into something. I imagine it’ll all be lumped in together as all of these waves crash ashore with the same promises. The Swinburne University of Technology asks the question If Quantum Computing Is Solving ‘Impossible’ Questions, How Do We Know They’re Right?

Josh Marshall takes a look at The Surreal Madness Of The AI Boom. I’m not sure I’d call it surreal, but it’s certainly something other than real. Otherwise, why would folks like Laura J. Nelson be chronicling how Tech Titans Amass Multimillion-Dollar War Chests To Fight AI Regulation. (Hint, when you have to play that kind of expensive defensive game, you’re trying to hide the ball, not advance it.)

NatashaMH provides a quilted farewell in a touching remembrance of a friend who passed too soon. Her closing line of My Best Friend Wrapped In Peace, “be safe in winter till summer arrives again,” chills and thaws in the same breath.

To close out this snowy holiday weekend, Neil Steinburg gives us a short piece titled simply, Home. Read it. Whether you’re home, on your way there, or returning to it.

Read ’em. Maybe Weep. Maybe Get Pissed Off. But Read ’em

Blood, some boiling, some cold, but killer writing.

Life on the Wicked Stage readers will be familiar with the Sunday Morning Reading column wherein I share good writing and interesting topics. Sometimes things fly across my radar after I’ve published the week’s column. Three pieces hit and hit hard late on Sunday after the Chicago Bears continued a mysterious, but gratifying winning streak. I’m going to share those stories here, on a Monday. The writing is too hot to let cool, and the subject matter burns even hotter.

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First up, is an excellent piece by Will Bunch called The Night America’s Doomed Ruling Glass Gorged On Lamb, Blood, and Oil. Bunch puts the elite on the menu and carves them up with a bone saw.

Next, check out Anand Girdhardas’ excellent How The Elite Behave When No One Is Watching: Inside the Epstein Emails. A vivisection that exposes what we all imagine.

Finally, read Tatiana Schlossberg’s A Battle With My Blood. A Kennedy family member, dying of incurable blood cancer eloquently tells her story, and ours.

You might think these pieces tilt into the category of just another round of depressing news and commentary. Partly that’s true. But it’s a small part for small minds. I find each of them reassuring. Reassuring that smart people, spilling words like blood on digital paper, can pour out the pain we’re all living through personal pain of their own, and decipher the day-to-day charades even as the current deadly and dangerous game continues.

I’d say the writing is courageous, but that’s obvious. The real courage comes in reading what’s written and paying enough attention to make it matter. Perhaps sharing them around this Thanksgiving week when we give thanks for our blessings with family and friends. Especially those we disagree with.

Be thankful. Be courageous.

(Image from Militarist on Shutterstock)

Sunday Morning Reading

Art matters. If you listen.

It’s another Sunday in this insane world, so it’s time for some Sunday Morning Reading. It won’t cure what ails you, or the world. But there are those who are listening. Listen as you read.

Aren’t You Tired Of Feeling Insane All The Time? Marie Le Conte asks that question. I’m not sure anyone can plug the hole in that boat, but acknowledging that we’re sinking is the first step.

David Todd McCarty tackles The Lost Art of Listening.

NatashaMH recently launched an exhibition of her art. Launching anything can take life out of you, launching any display of art exacts even more of the soul than it does the physical being. But as she says in The Social Life of Art, “art demands resilience, and resilience demands a sense of humor.”

I wrote a bit this week about what Mark Leydorf has to say about The Rise of Resistance Cinema In The Era of Trump. It’s worth highlighting his piece again here.

I’ve been watching the Apple TV series Pluribus with great curiosity. If nothing else, the show echoes Mr. McCarty’s opening to his piece linked above. (Warning. Don’t watch the show with my wife.) Dani Di Placido thinks he’s got it all figured out in What Is ‘Pluribus’ Really About? Perhaps he does. I’m not so sure. I’m also not sure the show’s success or failure relies on figuring it out in the end.

I’ve been linking to some of the goings on at The Kennedy Center under this corrupt administration. Trust me when I say what’s happening there is causing shock waves across board rooms in arts institutions across the country as everyone looks to uncertain and unknown futures with no script to follow. It’s affecting the art. It’s affecting the business of art. It will affect the art in ways we can’t begin to imagine. Janay Kingsberry examines how Senate Democrats Are Investigating Kennedy Center’s Deals And Spending.

Most of the links this week touch on the arts in one way or the other. In a way this tech topic does as well, given that so many want to turn emoji’s into some form of art. Benji Edwards examines the origins of this move back to hieroglyphics with the piece, In 1982, A Physics Gone Wrong Sparked The Invention Of The Emoticon. Art by accident often is the art that sticks.

(Image by Roman Kraft on Unsplash)

Filmmakers, Storytellers and The Resistance

Storytelling in conflict

Writing for Bloomberg, Mark Leydorf makes a case that movies are taking up the whistles of resistance in The Rise of Resistance Cinema in the Era of Trump. He’s right but he shortcuts the great history of storytelling.

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He’s correct that there are a number of films being released, along with those already past their big screen sell by dates, featuring stories and themes that can’t help but strike resonant chords for those repelled by and rebelling against the current political moment we’re living in.

He doesn’t have to reach too far beyond his initial example of Wicked: For Good to create a long list of titles to support his thesis. A thesis I buy, even though I think it serves cinema history, and storytelling in general, a bit short in the end.

In compiling his list, Leydor says:

The list goes on:

Eddington, Bugonia, Sirāt— there’s a reason directors are digging into stories of conflict, paranoia and cataclysm. Taken together, these films, most of which were conceived and went into production during Donald Trump’s interregnum, between the insurrection of Jan. 6, 2021, and MAGA’s triumphant return to power, have coalesced into a troop of cinematic resistance amid the conflicts and crises defining his political era and the rightward, nationalistic turns happening broadly around the globe.

I’ll reach into that quote and point out that all successful storytelling, on the screen, on the page, on the stage, around campfires, or told sitting on bar stools involve some form of conflict, paranoia, and cataclysm. Even top rated fare on the feel good Hallmark Channel features conflict. Heck, they have to make it up on Reality TV. Without conflict you don’t really have much of a story. Goodness knows we’re overripe with enough conflict to tell thousands of stories at the moment.

While focusing on this current crop of films, Leydor is spotlighting a point in the long timeline of story telling. These current storytellers are doing what storytellers do, bringing their near term reactions to whatever is in the zeitgeist at the moment, following traditions established long before Hollywood executives ever got involved in a script conference or endings became focus group fodder.

Frankly, I’m glad to see such a strong list of filmmakers telling these stories at this moment. We need to see ourselves reflected back in the mirror we hold up to nature, before it’s all AI generated. The same is happening on stages, in late night television comedy, and from the keyboards of many authors. Given how none of us knows how this moment is going to play out, it’s fascinating.

Note that Leydor points out that most of these films were conceived and green lit after the first Trump administration and prior to this second one.

I had the privilege in the Fall of 2022 to direct three one-act plays from Ukrainian playwrights about the effects of the Russian invasion that had begun earlier that year in February. The writing was alive, fresh, and as urgent as the wounds were then. That writing still is today, even though now those stories are snippets of a longer story still unfolding to an end no one knows.

Historically few stories springing up in any current conflict, regardless of medium, retain staying power beyond almost artifact curiosity. It’s usually the stories told after the moment passes that last and define with more resilient resonances, even as their lessons are forgotten by those too eager to write what they think will be a different ending.

What will be more fascinating to watch is how many of these current films are remembered years or decades from now, once this historical moment does pass.

Whatever that turns out to be.

(Image from Skylines on Shutterstock)

Scene Painting a History of Hamlets at The National Theatre

Hamlets watching Hamlet

I’ve done some scene painting in my day, but nothing like this. Actually nothing even approaching anything like this.

In Robert Hatcher’s production of Shakespeare’s Hamlet at Britain’s National Theatre Ben Stones’ scenery features a gigantic mural that surrounds the set that includes the faces of actors who have played Hamlet through the ages. The picture above doesn’t do that description or the concept justice.

The faces woven into the Danish artwork are the ultimate theatrical Easter egg. While Stones keeps the full cast list close to his chest, he confirms that they are all there – a complete history of the role.

“They’re all hidden in there. Everybody who’s been in it… even Tinuke Craig’s schools Hamlets, the three boys who played on that tour. We were very clear that if we include, we are including everyone who’s ever spoken those words in any version of this kind of play.”

As a statement on the play and its theatricality that’s cool in and of itself. The ghost visages of previous Hamlets watching what can be described as a ghost story has a meta appeal.

What also attracted my attention to this article — and why I’m sharing it — is that it puts the spotlight on scenic painting, somewhat of a lost art in this day of projected backgrounds and digital printing. This theatrical work of art required 920 hours to complete.

There’s a terrific little video that gives you an idea of the scale and scope of the painting requirement. Unfortunately it’s filmed in vertical mode so you don’t get the grand finale the same way on a computer webpage that you might on a smartphone. Even on smaller screens it has an impact.

It made me recall my days directing theatre in Omsk, Russia when the scene painting loft was at the top of the building. There, drops would be stretched on a frame that would rise and descend through an opening in the floor allowing the scenic artists to stand on the floor as they painted. There were some amazing scenic painters in that loft.

The article also gives credit to the scenic artists who did the work for Hamlet at the National. Well deserved.

Sunday Morning Reading

Small acts

It’s only business they say. Nothing personal. That’s the way the world works. Well, what I share each week in Sunday Morning Reading always comes from a place of personal interest. That may not be how the world works, but it works for me and I hope it does for you. Call it a small act.

In the wake of the continuing and confounding ICE occupation of Chicago comes a terrific piece by Kyle Kingsbury called I Want You To Understand Chicago.

Follow that up with a ProPublica piece by Melissa Sanches, Jodi S. Cohen, T. Christian Miller, Sebastian Rotella and Mariam Elba about the nighttime raid on a Chicago apartment building that featured men rappelling from Black Hawk helicopters, and all of the residents emptied on to the streets with many of their belongings. The punchline is in the article’s title, “I Lost Everything”; Venezuelans Were Rounded Up In A Dramatic Midnight Raid But Never Charged With A Crime.

A Nation of Heroes, A Senate Of Cowards by Will Bunch calls it like it is and much the way I see things after last weekend’s actions in the U.S. Senate.

Growing up, I never understood the cliché, “it’s nothing personal, it’s only business.” Frankly I still don’t. It excuses too much that I find wrong about the way the world works. Charles Broskoski examines the personal side in Personal Business.

And speaking of the way the world works (or doesn’t) in the midst of the Epstein fever I don’t think we’ll ever shake, Sarah Lyons points out that the violence in his and others’ actions is something we all live with in This Is How The World Works. It shouldn’t be.

Corbin Trent says We Didn’t Kill American Manufacturing—We Let It Die. He’s spot on.

Mark Jacob tells us How News Coverage Eases Us Into Tyranny. However this saga we’re living through ends up, one thing is for certain. The media has killed any chance of returning to what it once was.

Hardly a day goes by that we don’t read of some nefarious business practice spilling out of Mark Zuckerberg’s Meta. Turns out Meta is knowingly leeching off of scammers to the tune of about 10 percent of its revenue. I guess that makes Meta and Zuckerberg a scammer too. Cath Virginia has the writeup with Meta Must Rein In Scammers — Or Face Consequences. I doubt they will.

The Internet Archive is under attack in the same way libraries, media organizations, and text book publishing is. It shouldn’t be. Mathew Ingram has the lowdown in The Internet Archive Should Be Protected Not Attacked.

On a more positive note, Jeff Veen tells us how Small Acts Build Great Cultures. Boy, do we need lots of small acts these days.

To close out, did you ever wonder where collective nouns like “a watch of nightingales” or “an ostentation of peacocks” come from? For many years it was assumed that the anonymous author of this collection of collective nouns was the work of a “gentleman of excellent gifts” written down in one of the first books printed after the invention of The Gutenberg Press, The Book of Hawking, Hunting, and Blazing of Arms. Turns out the author was a woman named Juliana Barnes. Maria Popova has the story in A Parliament of Owls And A Murder Of Crows: How Groups Of Birds Got Their Names, With Wondrous Vintage Illustrations By Brian Wordsmith.

(Image form Ganesh Narahanan on Unsplash)

Little Feat Wraps It Up

Feats never let me down

News this week that one of my favorite bands of all time, Little Feat, is retiring after a final tour brought back quite a few memories. The Last Farewell Tour will kick off next spring and run through two years, promoting the band and their latest album, Strike Up The Band.

Little Feat - Feats Don't Fail Me Now.

As for those memories, in what seems like a lifetime ago when I was in college I had an assistantship in the theatre department’s scene shop. When touring acts came to campus we’d sometimes be assigned to help with load in and load out, and occasionally help run the show.

Little Feat was promoting what would become one of my favorite of their albums, Feats Don’t Fail Me Now, while opening for Joe Cocker, another of my favorites. I got the assignment to run follow spot for the gig. Up until that point I wasn’t familiar with Little Feat’s music, but that concert turned me on and I’ve been a fan ever since. They rocked the house as the warm up act and the crowd wasn’t ready for their set to end.

They certainly weren’t ready for what came next.

During the changeover a roadie came out and set two cases of Budweiser beer on the stage by the central microphone. Cocker’s band came on, tuned up a bit, the lights went down, the band kicked off the intro, at the conclusion of which Cocker was supposed to enter, which was my first cue of the set. The band was still using the intro from Cocker’s Mad Dogs and Englishmen days and all of the stage mechanics happened as planned, the crowd was pumped, but there was no Joe Cocker.

After a few moments delay we got the message to reset and we did it all again. This time Joe Cocker appeared on cue with a fifth of whiskey in his hands. He stumbled to the mic, and promptly threw up all over the stage. Yep, I had my follow spot lighting up the entire thing.

That was the end of the concert. Cocker was escorted offstage as the band played the Mad Dogs and Englishmen intro once again, then said good night and left the stage. The crowd was understandably upset with the headliner, but in the days that followed the talk was all about Little Feat’s music.

That was a moment to remember and a memory to laugh at certainly. But as well as I remember that I’ll never forget my introduction to Little Feat and their music. The band’s roster has changed throughout the years (most of the current members are in their 70’s) and the band’s songbook has journeyed its way through different American music genres. Their final album, Strike Up The Band, lands with a return to their original sound, albeit matured and nurtured from steps along the journey. It brings back memories.

There’s a brief, but good write up about the band’s retirement decision and final tour in Rolling Stone here.