In the beginning, God created the director and his audience. But the audience was without brain and void and so the director came unto them.
And the director said: “Let there be light.” And the audience was shocked for they knew only the darkness within them and so the director gave unto them a show. And the first night opened and the show was there.
And the director said: “Let there be white t-shirts and black trousers.” And there was never seen a proper costume again upon the stage. And the director saw it was good for the budget.
And the director said: “Let there be irony.” And henceforth women were played by men and men by women. And the societal oppres- sion of women by white upper-class men was subversively criticised in metatheatrical forms through pseudo-pornographic contextualization of transformations. Yeah.
And the director said: “Let there be no more than one actor”, for he had no more than one actor. And one actor said: “Shit”, for the script was long.
And the director said: “Let there be gormless reviewers.” But they saw that the critics were wretched deceitful beings, so they agreed to give out complementary tickets. But yet, no one came for it was 9:30 on Wednesday of Fifth Week and everyone wanted to go to bed. Or Park End.
And the director said: “Let us do that trendy po-mo 90s thing. I like it.” So they used ‘For What You Dream of’, the full Renaissance mix of the Bedrock original. And the director saw it was good, for he had definitely not ripped it of Trainspotting.
And the director said: “Let there be darkness”. But there was a red light on the fucking mixing desk that didn’t go off. And the audience was amazed at this total stroke of dramatic mastery, for they saw in it a congenial metaphor for the suffocation of the arts in modern society.
And the director said: “Let us go to the theatre.”
