There’s a nice review of the ventriloquism documentary I’m No Dummy: Sometimes You Just Need to Vent by Trav S.D. at Travalanche.

I found the following insight particularly powerful. There’s a script in it — or at least a scene — to be sure. And not the cheesy made for TV serial killer story either. Something miles more fabulous. Certainly metaphorical. Possibly uncomfortable to look at. Like the skinny old toupee-topped singer with red circles of blush on his cheeks that looked like a dummy come to life in the opera program I saw Sunday night. Hmmmm….

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I’m No Dummy « Travalanche
Every vent has a Jeckyl and Hyde thing going on; what they do uncomfortably skirts mental illness. (And, still more intriguingly, primitive religion). Maybe I’m a sadist. I want to learn more about the pain driving these people.