Thursday, August 11, 2011

Manchester August 9th 2011: Pure terror and havoc + cheap strawberries

Manchester: 09/08/11 17.00 hrs (Market Street) "Pure terror and havoc + Free stuff....just smash shop windows and cart out da stuff u want!"

Manchester: 09/08/11 16.50 hrs (Market Street) I was there. Here is my shocking story....

I had just got the bus back from Bury (I'll just throw in some exciting minor details to add to the realism and make everything more exciting as we wait to get to the BIG EFFIN DRAMA!!!!). I had to get the bus cos the tram was not running - apparently a tree had fallen across the line. Or had it? Was it just a way of the *Feds* keeping the crazy Bury Massive out of the city centre? It's a conspiracy theory and I'm starting it RIGHT HERE in CAPITAL Letters. So I got off and walked down Market Street, the main pedestrianised thoroughfare in our wet city. And I popped into some clothes shops and looked at checked shirts, because apparently nowadays a man can never have enough checked shirts. Or trousers that would only fit over my thighs if I shaved them with one of those butcher's meat slicing devices.

SO. After buying absolutely nothing. I popped into Aldi to buy a bag of crisps and some randomly selected items that they might have on sale. I do like the Aldi "we sell different stuff every week!" philosophy. I like someone else to make my buying decisions for me. So I bought a horse blanket and some tinned bamboo shoots and made my way out of the shop.

As my comedy friend says, "Aldi, the only place where you can buy an axe and a bottle of vodka on the same aisle... what could possibly go wrong there?" (Copyright Darren Cunningham, 2011).

And as any Aldi Market Street shopper will know, in keeping with the beautiful yellow tiled Arndale emporium itself the Aldi has this long tiled corridor to release you back into the world - and as i was walking down the stairs there was a shout outside.

It was about ten to five.

The woman ahead of me jumped and actually yelped. "Oh my God!" Then there was another shout. We couldn't make out what it was. What was being said? "Grrrhh rarr gge pound!" Behind them I chortled to myself. Ha! What is she on about? As if! On Market Street!? London is a jungle, but here we will never have such nonsense!!! These two women taking little steps, tentative. Standing right behind them, but thinking. No, surely not. I knew what they were thinking.

I'd been busy working all day, but suddenly the thought occurred. Really? I was thinking, no, it couldn't be - not here.

We emerged out of the shop into the sunlight. There was a big burly man holding a box and shouting, "Get your strawberries. Only a pound. Strawberries and grapes, only a pound a box." And yes, he should have said, 'Only a pound a punnet.' The world is going to hell in a handcart. So then I got the tram home and apparently according to the news 3 minutes later there were gangs in Piccadilly Gardens. In all honesty there might have been gangs there then but how are you gonna even know. It was packed with people. In all likelihood there were some youths with their hoods up. Weird.

Anyway, today crazy rain is forecast so that will be the end of it. And that is my riot story. Not that exciting admittedly. When they target the Pound Shops and B&M that's when we will know that our society is truly doomed. Hang on!!!!? Is that picture real?
much geniusosity and stupidility

Is this statement below real? I don't believe anything any more. I bet those strawberries were over-ripe, I was right not to buy them. And my horse blanket is lovely. Bamboo shoots for tea! Hurrah!!!

The rain'll get rid of em. Nature knows best.

From BBC Worldfeed;

1055: BBC Monitoring Libyan foreign ministry spokesman Khalid Ka'im has called on world governments to take action over the unrest in the UK. David Cameron has lost legitimacy and "must go", Libya's official news agency Jana reports. Libya "demands that the international community not stand with arms folded in the face of this gross aggression against the rights of the British people, who are demanding its right to rule its country", the report said."

Tuesday, August 09, 2011

Spelling: Lactate. Agonising. Bungee. Munchkin. Ahhhh. Only Google understands me. Ahh.

I've been reading Caitlin Moran's new book 'How to be a woman' and I have to say, I've been reading it voraciously. And possibly empirically and anaerobically. I don't know what those words mean but I'm inspired to use them by Caitlin's big vocabularly. It's a bit like when you read a Will Self article - you pretty much need a dictionary nearby to help you out and you need to stop yourself every time you look up the word from saying something like, "Oh. It means good? It means good! Well why didn't you say that then!!! For effs flippin sakes."

But you're learning. It's new words and you can use them to impress people when you're talking on the bus. You'll get them mangled up and use em wrong but that's what big new words are for. Misusing them. Developing and cocking up "the language". That's how it evolves. By crazy discoverers and explorers venturing out of the 1,000 word standard English into the hinterland of clever, wanky word choices and grabbing a few new ones and bringing them back to share with the rest of the population. They might laugh at you but they might give you top marks in exams when you use em. You'll be like Sir Walter Raleigh with his potatoes and tobacco. People will laugh at you, but eventually your discoveries will be the fuel that keeps the underclass going. Although the big poncey words (potatoes and tobacco) have transmogrified over time into chips n fags.

I had a similar philosophy to word userage when I was doing my English O level at age 15 (having a late July birthday makes me seem like I was a slight prodigy, I wasn't). Big words were where it was at. Examiners and teachers loved a big word.

I was Mr Rubbs at spelling though. I had a comfort zone when it came to spelling and it's the same one I have today when it comes to Scrabble - nothing bigger than 6 letters; nothing more than 2 syllables - or things are going to get messy. The sort of bad spelling that causes you to be so far off the mark that when you use spellcheck the helpful PaperClip Man just throws up his hands and goes, "Ooof. Phhht. Gadzooks! Fuck it mate, I fuckin give up." If you've got that many letters wrong there's too much of a distance. It offers you cue when you're writing a story about standing in the post office. It offers you envelop when you're writing about sending a letter. It says, yeah, loose is a good spelling, it's fine don't worry. You can have a loose parcel - if for instance it's held to the back of your bike with slack bungee ropes.

Nowadays Google will help you more than spellcheck ever has. It politely says things like, did you mean, 'post office queue'? We have searched for that. That's what you probably meant. It's a bit like a patronising older brother or a wife that has grown to hate your habits over time. It means well but there's an agonising, tired sense of menace to it. It might pick up a knife and kill you if you spell 'lactate' wrong one more time. But I enjoy that. At least Google understands me, usually. I do tend to use it now just to spell things - hence my Google search history makes for interesting reading: lactate, agonising, bungee, munchkin. It sounds like a Fall song in fact:

Lactate. Agonising. Bungee. Munchkin. Ahhhh. Only Google understands me. Ahh.

As a result of my spelling disease and also my lazyitis I memorised 20 words which were both clever and useful and also would get me Top Marks! In every poem or essay or plotless story I did wrote. Everything I wrote was posited on the idea that I would skip from one of the 20 words to the next, just to make sure I used all of the best words I knew. I would choose the 'write a descriptive scene about somewhere exciting like a fairground or a post office' option. Partly cos I was scared of writing something nice like a poem (I didn't know the rules - I still don't); or something imaginative like a story-plot thing - cos I didn't know if I was allowed to say daft things (I'm pretty sure I wasn't allowed.) So I kept it simple and just described places and things and nothing ever happened but I did get to use all my clever words.  It was a very clever strategy and I can still remember these words even now, several lifetimes later because they all began with the letter E:
  • exascerbate - John said that being late at the post office exascerbated his angerness.
  • etoilated - Jane had not eated for 6 weeks. She was etoilated in aperence.
  • exfoliate - Jane had nice skin tho. She exfoliated her earlobes regularly.
  • earlobes - John said to the man, "You have big earlobes. Wear is my parsel?"
  • excellent - "Excellent!" exclaimed the Post Office man looking at the big cue in the shop.
  • exclaimed - "Why is my parsel loose?" exclaimed John.
  • eminent - "I am a eminent man in this environment! People no my name."
  • eery - The silense in the shop was eery like a gost had eppeered.
  • ebullient - Jane was ebullient and smily faceed. "I am ebullient," she exclaimed. My earlobes are excellent today!"
Needless to say, I failed my English O level. A shame that I carry with me to this day. So I say to you kids of today think of Hemingway and Bukowski. KISS - Keep It Simple Stupid. And I give you this quote from Charles B:

""An intellectual says a simple thing in a hard way. An artist says a hard thing in a simple way."
Charles Bukowski

On the other hand. Forget all that. Recognise the truth of another from a man who changed his name from the hard to spell Stuart Leslie Goddard to the idiotically simple Adam Ant:

"Ridicule is nothing to be scared of."

No 1 nos how to to spel nowadays and it dosnt matter reely. So use all the words you like. Use em rongly n call it post-modern. Call it art. We hav entered a knew fase in our evolushon. Tis like the fal of the Romen Emphigher, the Chinese will take over as we fall like badly magnetised fridge words from the cold wall of our unplugged civilisation. Or y'know. Something, somthink, sumfink ...   :-)

Monday, August 08, 2011

Gig 3; adhoc Gong Show hand up when the MC says, "Anyone else fancy a go..."

Yes, the Gong Show. What so-called comedians are supposed to fear. 3 people in the audience with red cards when all three hold em up - you get gonged off. A situation where slightly drunken idiots think - y'know what, I'll have a go......... And I couldn't resist.

Tonight I was that drunken idiot. 

So it counts as Gig 3. Technically. Just biked it back home (oh my Hollywood life!). I wrote some new material yesterday afternoon. Thought I would try it out. TNo more Buddhism, no more Muslimism - after the stunned silent reception in Rochdale. I thought I'll do some quick fire gags. Not quick fire enough though. They gonged me off after about 3 minutes, maybe 3 and a half if I'm generous to myself. It's all a learning curve, ay? And given that there was a rubbish bit in the middle I can't really complain. The next bit was good though......... oh you never heard it.......

I texted my friend afterwards and she said I am becoming a comedyaholic. Addicted. I don't think that's true, I could easily stay at home and watch Heartbeat. But while I was there I don't like not trying. So why not. The winner on the night had a lot of charisma to be sure. More than me. Manic energy. Not someone you would want to move in next door for sure. But you had to watch him just cos he was a bit *mental*. If you can't compete with someone's crazy charisma, what can you do.

So I didn't feel any nerves and I wasn't funny enough. Fair enough. I was gonna get into a funny bit when they binned me off. Darwinism in action. Very weird. This is obviously the way to find out if you can do it. Tonight I did it, but didn't cut the gongy mustard.

One point though, if you talk about sensitive subjects: religion, gender issues - just mentioning these things isn't technically racist, prejudiced, or sexist. It's just mentioning different subject areas. I think some people don't have the capacity to tell the difference. So if you talk about anything sensitive some people are just immediately annoyed. Do you just stick to Lady Gaga and biscuits? Hmmm. Just something for me to bear in mind. All a bit odd anyway. Too many amateur comedians talk about wanking anyway. Embarrassing. Keep it to yourself, sir.

If you don't try you'll never know. Etc.......... Until next time then.