In all the years of Ted, I have rarely gotten up to speak in my role as Faculty advisor. I usually try to avoid people even knowing that I have a role here other than as participant. But some years ago, an incident occurred involving a bucket, and some people thought that Ted was some kind of official department activity. Since then, I have given an introduction at the first Ted of each year, just to help those who are new to the concept.

As faculty advisor, my job is to be the one whose name is on the facilities request, to offer assistance if someone gets hurt, make sure the building isn't damaged, and to be the one who gets in trouble if someone brings alcohol.

But I have no other function as advisor. I come to Ted because I want to, because most of you don't seem to mind me being here, and because I believe in it and enjoy participating in it.

The role of Dan and the committee is to put in the facilities request, put up a piece of paper saying what room Ted will be in, take down the list of people who want to perform and set the order.

The school's role in Ted is non-existent.

There is no curator, editor, or artistic director. No one knows what will be done at Ted any night except the individuals who are performing (and sometimes, frankly, they aren't even sure).

The performer's role is to show up sometime before midnight and sign up. Then to perform when it's their turn. For those who didn't know, there is no selection process. Anyone can sign up. If Jerry Falwell, Chris Rock, and Osama bin Laden showed up, they'd all get a slot. Dan's entire choice would be how he could creatively schedule them right after each other.

Ted was formed by students as a venue to try things without being monitored by the faculty. In fact, the faculty has been subtly discouraged from attending (although just having it at midnight on Saturday night would work well enough). The idea behind Ted is to provide a place to perform whatever you want without being judged by your acting teacher or someone else who might affect your career here. As people who perform, it is often difficult in classroom situations to try something new, because if it fails, you may not make it. At Ted you can take risks. Sometimes risks will fail miserably. Others may work. But it will not determine your continuation as an acting major or whatever.

There are very few rules at Ted.

1. Don't physically damage the facilities or the people.
2. Don't bring drugs or alcohol, and don't smoke in the building.
3. Try not to puke in here.
4. Clean up after your piece.
5. Make your piece relatively short, in case it's bad.

Otherwise, just about anything else goes.

Because of this, there are times you will be offended. I can pretty much guarantee it. In fact, it's likely that I, too, will occasionally offend someone. Some offensive pieces will be well crafted with a point; some will be shit. Some will be funny; some will be shit. Rarely will they literally be shit. People may make fun of your race, your gender, your religion, your age, your sexual preference, your sexual prowess, your emotional scars, your class in school, your major, your acting teacher, your home town, or you, personally. You have a few options. Ignore it, talk to the person who created the piece to find out their motivation and/or change their mind, or create your own piece in response. I recommend the latter -- you'll reach more people that way.

But I have made a decision. The committee doesn't know about this. If you are offended, Dan will personally return your entrance fee.

So, I can't tell you what you'll see at Ted tonight or future nights. I have no idea. All I can do is give you an idea based on what's been done in the past.

• Some pieces will be good; some will be bad; worse, yet, some will be boring. Generally they'll be short, and something else will come next.
• There will be pieces that have been put together with 15 minutes of preparation, although most of them will have had a lot less rehearsal than that.
• Someone will give a stirring account of a personal tragic situation and you'll want to go out and change the world.
• Someone will give a stirring account of a personal tragic situation and you'll go, "Oh, no. It's Therapy of Ted, again."
• Someone will be so good, that you'll seriously wonder if they're doing a piece or have actually decided to flip out and turn homicidal or suicidal right here at Ted.
• You'll see naked people. While sometimes it will be justified artistically, sometimes it will just be for the sake of nakedness. Who knows -- you might actually come away desensitized to the societal pressure that represses us and makes us ashamed of our own bodies. Or am I just rationalizing? After all, I too, have been naked at Ted.
• Someone will do a take off on Jim Kasprzyk's beatnik poetry hour, or a take-off on Chad Wise's take-off on Jim Kaspryzk's beatnik poetry hour.
• There will be pieces done on Scooby Doo and Star Trek
• There will be pieces involving blow-up sheep sex toys, and oversized dildos.
• Occasionally someone with brilliance as a performance artist will develop at Ted. Someone who never made it in mainstream theatre in the department and, at first, had most people at Ted going, "well, that was weird."
• There will be a lot of pieces with in-jokes that you'll miss if you didn't go to the party on Friday night, or take acting from Patrick, or...
• Someone will be chased out of the room when it's 2:00 in the morning and they're doing their 19th bad piece of the night.
• At some point, there will be a presentation of the Living Canvas.
• Someone will decide that it's time to do something with quality and they'll present a work in progress that they've rehearsed at length, and it will go over like a lead balloon, 'cause the audience is drunk.
• Someone will start a band at Ted.
• The shy one in the corner will finally be encouraged to come up and will do something that will blow your mind.
• There will be pieces that make Saturday Night Live's early years look sophomoric, and there will be pieces that make Saturday Night Live's later years look brilliant.
• There will be pieces that start off funny and then don't end.
• There will be pieces that are supposed to be funny and you'll see the expression on the participants' faces halfway through as they realize, "Oh my god, this was supposed to be a parody, but it's not funny, and now it looks like I'm being serious about this. Oh my god, this really sucks and we still have five minutes left in the piece."

Here are a few traps to avoid (these are my own opinions):

• You know that Alanys Morissette a cappella song that you like so much? I can guarantee that it sounds a whole lot better when you sing it in the shower, than it will in this room. Something about the humidity in the shower covers up your 29 key changes.
• Save the Hallmark cards for Valentine's Day. If you want to share your poetry, then dare to suck! Take us somewhere we haven't been before.
• You know that really funny Top 10 list that your friend sent you by email? We all got it too.
• The time that your dog/grandfather died certainly had a big impact on your life. And if it's a funny story, we'd definitely like to hear it. But if you're looking for closure, this isn't Therapy of Ted. Therapy of Ted is on Friday nights, and we charge $50 per neurosis.

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Above all... Dare to Suck. That doesn't mean try to suck. It means to try and possibly fail -- to take risks. To dare -- and maybe fall flat on your face, with a community of friends to say "Hey, that sucked! But nice try!"

So, now that you know what to expect...

Theatre of Ted, enthusiastic applause!

- Pete Guither