Nov. 16th, 2003

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This is one of the reasons why I love Neil Gaiman so very, very much:
I had an utter fanboy moment when a faintly familiar-looking person came over at the end and introduced himself as Philip Pullman, and I just started gushing foolishly, and he was kind enough not to notice.

Heh. My mother just called me out of my room to show me a production of Jesus Christ Superstar that's showing on Ovation. It appears to be set amongst a group of gay London punks. Unfortunately, neither Judas nor Jesus is remotely attractive of charismatic. Judas has just had a sulk attack because Jesus is being pawed by Mary, and smirking about it. It's understandable--Jesus is sporting a shoulder length blonde curly 'do, and a bland outfit right from Aberzombie or similar. The costumer should be shot--Jesus is gayer than the rest of them put together, but he also doesn't fit the clean-leather-jacket and red t-shirt look, either. He has one facial expression: angsty woe. Even Orlando's managed two: confusion and angry about confusion ([livejournal.com profile] deadspiders's joke, not mine). So far there's been one attractive man: Pilate. And he looks like he's a centrefold from a gay magazine. Give me my black Judas in an odd pink pant suit (oh, sorry--it's cerise) and lightly bearded Jesus any day. Not to mention the rawther attractive basso Caiaphas inexplicably sans shirt.


Steph's coming over tomorrow. I should probably clean my room. Or I could continue trawling goff communities. Hey ho, said Anthony Crowley.

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