Fun on the Real World Tryout Line; Stupid Human Tricks in the LES; Cracked, the Best Crack-Smoking Play Out There; moodroom Bores Me, But Still Rocks; Love Them or Hate Them?ro;”the Queers Aren't Dead

We arrived at the casting call spot, Kanvas (219 9th Ave., betw. 23rd & 24th Sts., 727-2616), at 9:30 a.m. on a Saturday. Lined down the block almost to 10th Ave. were the sort of kids you never see at 9:30 on a Saturday, except if you see them stumbling out of a warehouse in the Bronx. There were white Rastas with their dreads dyed different colors, jolly black men with camcorders and 25-year-old Jersey girls dressed for prom 2.0. No job interview could have roused these people at such an hour. Only MTV.

We took our spots at the back of the Real World line; I got a terrific egg & cheese sandwich and savored it as the day got warm. An MTV employee came by and handed everyone a two-page form asking about our past acting history, relationship status and most embarrassing qualities.

"Omigod," the girl in front of me said to her man, who wore silver sunglasses and a silver cellphone. "What am I going to put for 'most embarrassing quality'? Should I reveal my J-Lo obsession?"

She was half-turned toward me, so I figured she wanted my opinion too. "A J-Lo obsession isn't unique enough," I told her. "Maybe you should try out for that other show, Fanatic."

"Oh been there, done that," she snapped. "Made top 10; made top five; didn't win, but J-Lo got to see my video. That show is like so 1998 anyway."

"Uh, I didn't realize."

The line brightened up with the arrival of one Te'DeVan Rocketman Kurzweil, practitioner of "Naked Comedy" at St. Marks Theater. Te'DeVan, a tall, buff Nordic-looking man, wore only a towel and cardboard placard as he advertised his show to the confused Real World line, ranting to us about high heels and the cork industry. Naturally, I gave him my number and we got in touch later to discuss his "Naked Comedy" show, taking place this Saturday.

"I get naked and I ask people in the audience to get naked, and sometimes they do," he explained. "It's a giant mind-fuck, and what it is is not your stereotypical standup comedy, although there are aspects of that. It's got a lot of energy, you know, like comedy meets rock star meets nudity. Abbie Hoffman was a genuine undertone influence."

Te'DeVan realized that he had the gift of showmanship when he was hired, off the street, to entertain at a party. "I was actually going to wait a little longer for naked time but people there were drunk and they were yelling 'get naked, get naked,' so I did...and then I did the trick where I stick a match in the head of my dick and light it on fire."

Wow, that is going to come in handy later in life when Te'DeVan needs to get checked for prostate cancer. I don't know how he does it either, but maybe you can figure it out by attending "Naked Comedy" this Saturday at St. Marks Theater (94 St. Marks Pl. at 1st Ave., 777-6088). The show starts at 10:30; it's $15/$10 for students.

...Speaking of quality theater, last week I saw the best darned play I have ever seen about crack-smoking. It's called Cracked and it plays in the West Village through Friday; maybe if enough people attend, its run will be extended. It surely deserves that.

Cracked is the work of writer-director David Vining. It shows us a few days in the life of Jim, a crack addict, as he bugs out in his apartment and has hallucinations. Jim hallucinates about his overbearing religious mother, his bashful sister and her erstwhile boyfriend; he also speaks into a personal tape recorder, freaks out on the floor and justifies his habit in a series of eloquent monologues.

Cracked has some very impressive lighting and sound for a not-on-Broadway production. Its drug scenes are absolutely terrifying as Jim's furniture comes alive and his own mother tries to make out with him. It's one hour and 20 minutes long (as a rule, 20 minutes too long for my taste), but I loved it. Check Cracked before it's gone at Here (145 6th Ave., betw. Spring & Broome Sts., 647-0202), this Wednesday through Friday. The performance starts at 7 p.m.; tickets are $15/$12 for students.

...In music, there are two fine shows coming this week. I generally hate bands who don't capitalize their names because they use those pissy jagged lines in Microsoft Word, but moodroom is so good that I forgive them. They sound like Siamese Dream-era Smashing Pumpkins, only quieter, with some electronic effects and a female vocalist. Her name is Stef Magro, and although she's a lovely, emotive singer and a wonderful person, she gave just about the most boring interview I have ever conducted. Here goes.

On preparing to sing: "I just drink a lot of water, try to steer clear of alcohol... You know, 'The body is an instrument.'"

On pop music through the ages: "I like the Beatles a lot, so maybe their era as far as the 60s and 70s, and then the 90s had some cool stuff as far as Nirvana goes, and Radiohead, you know?"

I guess when your band is called moodroom, you're allowed to be laid-back with your quotes. Besides, what's important is moodroom's music, which is clean and hooky, a far better mix of turntables and guitars than the effluvium of drama-club rockers Incubus. Look for moodroom's CD Hung Up on Breathing in January; catch them this Sunday at Luna Lounge (171 Ludlow St., betw. Houston & Stanton Sts., 260-2323). The show starts at 8 p.m. and costs just $5.

...Finally, on Friday the Queers come to town. If you haven't heard of the Queers, think Blink 182 with poorer production. (Also, think much older; this band has been around since 1982.) If you have heard of the Queers, then you either love them or hate them?it's hard to do much else with a group whose choruses proclaim, "You're a noodle-brain, you're so stupid/You're a noodle-brain just like me," and "yummy yummy punk rock girls."

The Queers play absolutely hands-down the most infantile pop-punk out there. Less stately than Green Day, less nuanced than Weezer, less political than the Ramones and slightly less gay than Blink 182, the band led by the man known only as Joe Queer (except to those who know his real name, Joe King) has something pure. Even as they wrap up their 20th year.

Joe Queer is smart enough not to play his recent, crappy material?nor will he touch his older, really crappy material. Attendees of this Saturday's show at Knitting Factory (74 Leonard St., betw. B'Way & Church Sts., 219-3006) are sure to hear "Janelle, Janelle," "Born to Do Dishes" and "Monster Zero." Doors open at 7 p.m. and tickets are $10.