Back to the swamp

Problem with youth is they can be such codgers! Steve Kretz and Rosa-Karoo, 19, are getting all anal and technical about Crave.
But they miss the point: Crave utterly intends to get in your face, like.

Stop looking for meaning in text, just go with it and it’s … well Sylvia slipped into the river with rocks in her pocket. Sarah Kane went over the falls of a Wild Coast 100 footer with the Waratah tied to her leash. How dark is dark? How serious is serious? Kane took 150 pills plus for her first attempt and finally gave nurses and us the slip using a shoe lace in the loo in hospital where she was being treated for depression.

Hey, I like my life, and she sounds like she suffered horribly. But how much angst and brutality must we, the 25 or so in City Hall 1 endure before it all becomes, ah f**k it, just go with it, just let it flow back to the swamp.

How brutal do you want your honesty? How much rape, desperation, unfulfilled longing, fractured conversation and shrapnelled thought do you want before the overwhelming truth sinks in – that we are all done for, and what does time and space matter anyway?

Stop analyzing, switch off your mind, and watch humans mash their faces in a rising ocean of septic, anguished, enraged verbal drivel.

Actually, despite being bolted to the blue bank cushion, I soon found the shackles of shock slipping away; I was deep into the nothingness of human endeavour. I was resurrected from the primal mud, and flung into a digital shitstorm … I felt oddly satisfied.

That this tortured young genius had the temerity to tell us how aimless we, humanity, and our idiotic relationships, have become, well then, salute! If Kane and this crew want to shout this message in my face for an hour, rock on.

Crave is on at City Hall 1 until Monday 29 September.

— Mike Loewe