1. Well, nobody said writing a play should be easy. But I’m still working on it.

(Leaving out, for obvious reasons, anything I worked on or that are still in development, including several honestly terrific plays I saw at The Great Plains Theatre Conference.)

Some years, I’ll see three or four plays a month — or more. In 2013, I saw only 15 (not counting the plays that Moving Arts was involved with, or, again, that I saw at GPTC, or that were workshops or staged readings.) What do I look for in a play? I don’t care about subject matter (although I’m adverse to plays that confuse neurotic couples arguing on their couch with drama, and one-person shows about how darn difficult it was growing up with parents who just didn’t understand), or form, or tone. I want to see things on stage that stick will stick with me because they’ve brought a new level of insight or inquiry; in other words, I want to be surprised and provoked. And entertained.

Putting it that way, two plays stood out above all others:

1. The Nether by Jennifer Haley, a Center Theatre Group production at the Kirk Douglas Theatre. In this dystopian not-so-distant future, people who can afford it escape their bleak day-to-day by living their meaningful lives in an area of the Internet called The Nether. In the Nether, people with horrifying thoughts and impulses are free to live out their fantasies — until the authorities deem even those fantasies illegal. The ramifications are far-reaching of investigating and prosecuting would-be pedophiles for their inclinations even while they are only virtually living out their fantasies. As all truly great drama does, The Nether pits strong arguments against each other — there are no straw men here — in a way that leaves one arguing about what is true and good and right. Starting from a powerhouse script, the production was flawlessly mounted and staged. I’m very glad that I read none of the reviews in advance (even the set held surprises) and instead just heeded trusted friends who implored me to see it. It’s a play that I won’t ever forget.
2. And now, a runner-up:  The Whale by Samuel D. Hunter. Although Hunter’s script piles up metaphors that aren’t fully explored or dramatically grounded, when the action centers around the enormously overweight central character, the play sings. Matthew Arkin’s devastating performance of a 600-pound man whose lungs and joints and legs and entire body are failing him will always weigh on me. Watching this obsessively unhappy man dig ferociously into a bucket of fried chicken was a sad spectacle — half the audience groaned audibly — but his determination to do right by his estranged daughter before he died elevated the character to a rare humanity.

(Bearing in mind that I’m writing these posts days in advance, being off the Internet from 12/24/13 at 4 p.m. Pacific until 1/2/13 at 10 a.m.)

1. My wife will have cooked something else for us “for the weekend,” and it’ll already be mostly gone. By tomorrow, I’ll be scavenging for what can be made out of the dusty boxes and tins in the pantry. Because I refuse to go grocery shopping right now. I just refuse.
2. With all that “spare” time because I’m not on the Internet, I’ll have started to read all those comics and collections that I’ve promised I’ll “get around to.” This means you, Life With Archie parallel-universe series, in which he marries either Betty or Veronica. I hope your collections are as twisted as the individual issues I’ve skimmed.
3. I’ve gone to the gym at least once more. By the way, I’m not trying to lose weight — although I wouldn’t mind — I’m trying to regain flexibility. Just an FYI.
4. Re writing my new play:  By now, I’m almost assuredly at the stage where it all seems hopeless and should just be chucked.
5. By now, I’m starting to think that it’s more time-wasteful to be off the Internet, outweighing the time I’m “saving,” because there are things that I could be getting ahead on while I’m reacquainting myself with old media.
6. By now, I’ve built another comic-book storage unit because they have to go somewhere, dammit!

(Bearing in mind that I’m writing these posts days in advance, being off the Internet from 12/24/13 at 4 p.m. Pacific until 1/2/13 at 10 a.m.)

1. The ham that my wife says she’s cooking for Christmas dinner will be gone by now. The reason:  five people at home for several days.
2. I’m betting I’m getting one or both of the books on my Christmas list (The Bully Pulpit by Doris Kearns Goodwin and The Everything Store, about the founding of Amazon.com). By this point, being off the Internet and unsure what to do with myself, I’ll have finished at least one of those.
3. I’ve gone to the gym at least twice in the intervening days.
4. Re writing my new play:  Christmas will have been a wash, so by now that leaves writing time on the Thursday, Friday and Saturday after. I’m betting I worked on it two of those days, and did five pages each day, so let’s call it 10 pages.
5. Someone famous died, or at least famous to me, and because it wasn’t in the Los Angeles Times (which I still get delivered in print), I have no idea who it was. I have a sinking fear about Steve Ditko. Don’t know why. This also leads me to wonder how Steve Ditko, being all alone in Manhattan as I believe he is, is doing financially, and whether or not a whole bunch of us should get together and send him 25 bucks each just as a way of saying thank you. Which leads me to wonder if he’d accept it.
6. Some incredibly urgent email has winged its way to me and the sender is outraged that I’m not reading it!
7. I have a constant irritating itch to jump on the Internet, and by now it’s either inflamed and burning or it’s started to die down. Probably the former. How will I look up every character actor seen on TV to confirm that it is indeed someone I once did a play with? How to appear patently brilliant to my two younger children without being able to surreptitiously confirm things via Google first? How to know what classes are running on particular days at the gym without — shudder — calling them? (I’ve grown to hate the phone — seems so time-wasting.)
8. By now, having reorganized my walk-in closet as further procrastination on more meaningful home improvement tasks, and having failed to discover those missing sock mates, I’ll have tossed those singular socks away.

This year my wife made Cthulken. Tasty, and a little risky.

I’m off the Internet ’til 2014. January 2nd at 10 a.m. Pacific, to be exact.

Why, barring Godzilla attack or similar calamity, am I off the Internet ’til 2014? Because while 2013 was in almost every way a terrific thing for me, I’ve developed the habit of being on the Internet constantly. As in, every 30 seconds. Like a teenage girl. (I know this because I have a teenage girl.) Now, I love the Internet — believe me, it beats in every way the not-knowingness-and-no-way-to-checkness of my youth, plus I make my living almost entirely via the Internet — but I’d like to do a lot of writing this next week without wondering what’s up on Facebook. (He said, while acknowledging that Facebook is one of the ways he makes his living.)

But wait, you say. There seem to be posts going up on this blog when you say you’re offline. And, well, what about this post you’re writing now?

If you see posts going up before the 2nd, now you’ll know that I’ve written them in advance and set them to post later. (Which will be previously, by the time I’m back, but is in the future conditional as I’m writing this. How does Doctor Who or Kang the Conqueror ever keep these things straight?)

Anyway, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

Life can be brutal and unkind if you have nothing, or if you have everything and you don’t realize it. (Like many of us.)

So I thought I’d share a few stories that should reward your faith in humanity, because yes, I do have faith in humanity (not all the time, but most of the time), and I hope you do too.

Here’s example one of extraordinary kindness.

Here’s example two.

Here’s a story about living by your principles of forgiveness. I will never be as strong as these people.

And see if you can get through this one, and the outpouring of support for this man dying a painful death at age 21, without crying.

And, yes, here’s a story about someone suspected of spraying swastikas on people’s cars here in Burbank. What a nice present to give, no matter what time of the year. But most of us aren’t like that, and he’s only 18 — so he’s got plenty of time to stop it and join the rest of us.

“We’re here to get each other through this thing, whatever it is.” Mark Vonnegut

Or at MY home!

“All is Lost,” which stars Robert Redford as a man sailing alone who runs into a series of troubles.

Here are just some of the many reasons:

1. Your sense of dread mounts from the first frame through the last
2. Which is twice the accomplishment given that the film has only one actor and almost no dialogue. It tops “Gravity,” which provides a hallucination for dialogue, and certainly “Castaway,” which resorted to a volleyball as a conversation companion
3. I’ve seen it twice now in a month — and paid both times! — and would see it again tomorrow if the idea didn’t make me feel like I have too little else going on in my life
4. Our Man’s resourcefulness and doggedness in the face of severe challenge and looming death are an inspiration to anyone who feels his day is shattered by, say, waiting 20 seconds for a traffic light to change
5. The literally all-star cast
6. Is exhaustive on the subject of what can go wrong — I’m stumped to come up with more
7. Serves as a helpful reminder never to go sailing alone in the Indian Ocean

Winner: “Garfield Minus Garfield,” which reveals the existential angst hiding behind the “comedy” by removing the cat.

Sample strip: