"Fuck you - me! Fuck you - Me!"

The 15th annual Minnesota Fringe Festival opened yesterday with a flurry of activity. For those not in the know, the Fringe is an 11-day festival spread out through Minneapolis. During it, more than 150 shows are presented. The shows tend to be rough and ready -- things pieced together by artists who want to explore new frontiers, get the word out about their work or do a trial-run for a new company.

I'm reviewing the Fringe for City Pages, so I'll hold off on specific opinions about those shows (check back next week and I'll post a link for those reviews).  But as a holder of an all-access "gold" pass (even laminated this year!), I will share opinions about other shows I take in, along with general Fringe-y opinions.

Today's headline is from Mike Fotis' spoken word piece, "An Intimate Evening with Fotis: Part Two." It's basically Fotis, sitting in a chair, reading his stories. It's a bracing evening, full of humor and quite a bit of geek-tastic insight. Like any good storyteller, Fotis is willing to mine his own phobias and shortcomings for material. His first story -- a mix of video-game anger and a fight in junior high -- hit close to home. While I've never broken my hand after a frustrating attempt to, say, destroy a boss, I have broken more than a few controllers; not to mention tossing just about everything across the room -- game discs, boxes, the useless instruction manuels -- at one point or the other (I even recall tossing down my GBA/DS in the same way, though thankfully onto a soft cushion, preventing permanent damage to either one). And the fight thing? Well, I pretty much stayed out of that in junior high, but I did get into an altercation in middle school when a dude named Victor Hell (really) decided to wail on me because -- remember, we were 12 or something -- we kinda looked the same (we eventually became sorta friends; it helped that we both liked loud rock n roll).

Fotis went from strength to strength, from talking about a particularly awful pair of encounters with bats (the type that flaps around) to admitting his love of loud rock n roll (not to mention Wilco and the Pixies -- white guys in their 30s, unite!) And ended with a rant about the power of his... blog. Right on.

Tonight, I'm off to the U for another City Pages assignment (An Inconvenient Squirrel), but since there are four venues within Rarig, I may take in more while I'm there. More anon.