Like a Child Craving Attention, II

It seems the author of the infamous review in Time Out is unhappy that I didn't actually use his name in my blog post. Now, I don't recall a check coming in the door to compensate me for being his publicist, and it seems to me he's already pretty expert at getting publicity without any help from such an utterly unimportant no one like yours very truly.

In his email to me today, said critic reiterated his point "that religion, from an artist or critic's point of view, is a debased form of theater. The review starts that way and wraps up with the kicker that has launched a thousand blogposts. (Well not so much). Now, if you want to act like my editor and say the kicker should have been the lede, that's a valid point."

Of course, I'm tempted to go into the history of theatre as an outgrowth of medieval religious practices, but given that my Jewish forefathers were no doubt hiding when that was going on, I'll just skip it.

Anyway, the email ended with a scold: "...if I'm going to get bad publicity from the likes of you, I'd like to have my name on it."

Gosh, you know, I am positively charmed. I never knew he cared!

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