PLAYTHORA THEATRE COMPANY/THEATRE-EL

LOVE, SEX, MADNESS AND BANANA PEEL TURNS YELLOW INTO GREEN: By El Osas Iyalekhue : GANGSTA LUV We shared cakes like we shared cigarettes. You choked on my indica. Empty bottles of Vodka by the bed. Yelling and making up, ...

 The writer for today will earn more attention if he writes about gays; whether he writes for their rights or thier death doesn't count, just write about gays and people will read it. So, even though I blame gays,  I wrote, quote and un-quote "Don't Blame Gays" and you read it.  Thanks for validating my hypothesis. Signed El. El Osas Iyalekhue

There Are Better Ways To Kill A Woman … narrating romantic abstract disguised in a stream of consciousness.   By EL Osas Iyalekhue There are better ways to kill a woman …and vice versa, we are all victims and perpetrators of heart breaks. Everyone is pointing fingers. These fingers do other things at other times, and that’s why somebody’s heart got broken in the first place.   Isn’t everybody talking about sex, failed relationships and who broke who’s heart? We all just sing it.   A million Wizkids, and Davidos, plenty o f songs, endless lyrics, and still nothing said. But there’s no rule that says don’t sing shit. Anybody with a voice deserves to sing something with it. Women do nothing but complain with their voices, someone should do a movie about that. Talking about voice I saw some real good African films recently, Dazzling Mirage and Love or Something Like That.   These movies seduced the smile of my mind. Nonetheless,   I am still curious about October 1 ,

In painting the images that came alive in my recently staged play, The Phantom, I had set out to say many things, but I ended up saying many more things. My play The Phantom takes shape through Marxist Ideo-aesthetics, but the virtue caught in the text is not of a struggle between the rich and the poor or conflict born out of class struggle as a result of wealth distribution. No, I went further to place the personality of the Theatre artist as the underprivileged class whom society continues to subjugate, out of pessimism against what it can yield or a total lack of understanding of what theatrical artistry stands to represent. My inspiration was born out of my experience during my undergraduate years in University of Jos, where a mention of oneself as a student of dramatic arts made the asker recoil as if something was mortally wrong with being a Theatre artist.   A confused many, see Theatre professionals as a set of non-achievers. More pitiable is the fact that Theatre