Monthly Archives: January 2014

Green Ink Ran Through My Veins

It is time for me to start a fetish club. Being offended has risen to the state of sexual pecadillo, it probably always has been. The clenched fist, the placard, the letters written in inky spittle, the physical attacks motivated … Continue reading

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Turn the music up and then they won’t hear the walls crumbling around them

I am sat next to a teenager (which once your 44 could be anyone under 30) and they are sharing their music from their earpieces in act of poisonous, public transport altruism. Don’t think I haven’t taken my revenge by … Continue reading

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Ah books, that chaos of delight – a reading list

I knew I was finally doing something right the first time I was asked to provide a reading list after a show. I think it was in York. A gothic student strode up to me, apologised, and then asked if … Continue reading

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It Must Be True Because I Made It Up (reality tunnel blindness)

the lurgy that felled Josie Long hovers over me, as this piece of writing may suggest.  Surprisingly, it was almost two hours after my piece on religious advantage versus equality went online before someone said, “now write that about Muslims!”. This … Continue reading

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Before my Id met my Editor – on religion, persecution and tolerance

 When I was asked to reply to Cristina Odone’s piece in the New Statesman on state sanctioned intolerance, I dashed off about 4000 words, just to clear my head. I have removed most of the non-sequiturs and edited out the most extreme rage and … Continue reading

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The Fury of the Beachfront (A review of Brighton’s Anger)

I love and fear the Pointless Anger shows. Michael Legge and I did another one last night.  Put simply, it is two friends showing off to each other and an audience with as little showbiz artifice as they can manage. … Continue reading

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The Pier Reviewed and Peer Reviewed

I am a bingo caller with ideas above my station. More and more comedians are nowadays.  Not content with telling jokes, some of us insist on writing them for ourselves too, and possibly then going on to write books, or … Continue reading

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Will a trepanning hole let the show that is my mind escape into the real world?

The game is afoot.  I am standing on the stage at Old Rope new material night, looking down at my notes, barely able to read my own typing. The low ebb, but long term adrenalin that says, “you have to … Continue reading

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Pointless Anger, Righteous Ire – are you paying attention?

The question is, is your fury pointless anger or righteous ire? Modern technology means you are never more than 3 centimetres away from something that will annoy you. If your day in the seemingly real, physical world has proceeded without … Continue reading

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Funeral of a Show – the lone mourner of Tunbridge Wells

And so another one dies by my hand. On Saturday night, I killed off my most recent tour show (barring filming it in Cardiff). The wrap parties after these things are odd. Everyone who had been on stage or toured … Continue reading

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