As I tried last year to bring a play on a stage, I sent it to at least a dozen addresses in the hope that at least one should have interest. To remove any tension from the same post, I alternate it clear from the beginning that no one wanted my piece, but that's what not here. It's about me then that the Jewish Theater of Hamburg (which often presents humorous pieces, so for me came in question.) sends a pretty clear criticism, why is my piece ... was very, very bad. I could share in the criticism but almost no point, however, made me out of it no more and what was assumed that the answer was written by a bearded, well-read, at least ninety-nine year veteran who was working with Max Reinhardt. But already the talking points that have been criticized, the critics argued but mainly so that the classic structure of a comedy was not met. Well, and today, many months later, I discovered on hagalil a comic strip named Moishe son of a bitch. It was in primitive Cross rhymes written ( face on not and proud to wood.) And I had actually tried to forget it quickly, when I noticed who was responsible for this great art. The theater director who sends me at the time these comments to my piece. Now I think What God does in the closet? certainly not the most valuable cultural product of modern German history, but it surprises me already, how extreme schizophrenic many people between the distinguishing what they produce themselves (always good, even if it means Moishe son of a bitch and a complete joke free comic) is and what others do (which is examined with as much excess energy that is released when the self-criticism fails). Then you can say in conclusion only: his dog is not a dog, but more than a drawn dog! Here it can be admired: ( http://www.israeli-art.com/satire/moishe.htm )
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just read the poem by him, inspired me to write an answer and if you want to read them, you have to you only see the entry below underneath:
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