
Hey everyone! After a week and a half away, it’s great to be back at The Critical Condition.
I took a vacation because I’m ramping up for a new chapter in my professional life: Next month, I’m starting a new job as Content Editor/Writer for the Theater Development Fund’s website, which means I’ll be writing and/or assigning features every week. This gives me a remarkable opportunity to host an ongoing conversation about the theater, and I’m looking forward to sharing my work with you. (To kick things off, here’s a piece I just posted about Thomas Bradshaw, a controversial playwright who’s making waves Off Broadway.)
My new job will not affect The Critical Condition, however. If anything, I’ll have more time to write here, since I won’t have to hustle for freelance assignments. (It’s such a relief it is to be earning a steady paycheck for the first time since 2002!)
Besides, I could never leave the community that’s developing here! I know I don’t know most of you guys, but all week, I’ve been missing our conversations. I’ve been especially anxious to discuss Quentin Tarantino’s Inglourious Basterds and how critics have ignored a valid and exciting interpretation of the film.
Let’s get to that, shall we?
(WARNING: There are major spoilers ahead, beginning in the very first paragraph after the jump)
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