manners, manners

I saw the Court Theater's production of Seneca's Thyestes, and the row behind me was occupied by six drunken school-teachers having a girl's night out. As a dramatic piece, Thyestes has lain dormant for four centuries, and the gulf between the Roman appetite for cruelty and Western civilization was too wide to even imagine a staging. But now that we have reached a point in our cultural degeneration where Seneca is not only accessible, but almost passe. Do we need a reminder at performances, that, along with silencing cell phones, people should also avoid chattering among one another while watching scenes of incestuous cannibalism?