I was reading Amiri Baraka’s poems when he died. I’m reading One Hundred Years of Solitude and Gabriel García Márquez has died. Perhaps for the hat-trick I should read Tony Benn’s diaries and see if it has the reverse effect on the deceased. It is Easter after all. But I’ll probably just blow it on Tony Blair.
Writing this shit in the Guardian simply isn’t working, and here are the reasons why:
- It’s porn to a Guardian reader. When I’ve finished writing this I’m going to actually read the article whilst masturbating and then tell friends who also already agree with it what the article says but not credit the author or mention the masturbating.
- Others, like me, have surely cut down on their Guardian consumption to reduce their masturbatory frequency (some is fine for the prostate and general wellbeing, but regular Owen Jones angry wanks are just unhealthy).
- That guy in the picture who mined 200 years of data to research why capitalism threatens to destroy us all needs to spend 200 seconds on the street, yo, his gang signs are whack.
- There’s articles about fondant puddings and what makes the perfect burger on the home page too. In a capitalist world people are going hungry and you expect them to skip past the pictures of food? Shame on you Guardian, shame on you.
- Marx is slow clapping in his grave.
- I’ve got shit to recycle, tell me something I don’t know.
- Invisible melon gang signs.
- Capitalism works perfectly well for capitalists, and they have all the power. Guardian readers have cultural capital which is like monopoly money illustrated by home-owning retirees who’ve taken up watercolour painting between trips to the theatre.
- Game of Thrones.
- I spent more time writing this than I have hoping that capitalism won’t fall in a way that will crush me and everyone I know and love beneath its rotting corpse.
My comedy has tons of messages, I think. Destroying political correctness and contrived sensitivities is at the top of the list. Trying to get an audience to realize that, when it comes to free speech and comedy, truly nothing is sacred. I like to elevate/enlighten the audience by presenting a type of comedy that is both different in content and in form — to show them that set-up/punchline is not the only option. And perhaps to expose the nakedness of the human subconscious in all its transitory beauty. Also, because I do so many characters, perhaps there’s something unintended there about the fluidity of the individual identity and the underlying and often unseen totality that unites all existence.Will Franken when asked ‘Does your comedy have a message and if so what is it?’ by Recovery Comedy. He’s headlining on Monday. (via squarehole)
Castle Square (Hole in the Road), Sheffield, c. 1960s
Here it is.
Sheffield, c. 1960s
So this must be a few years before they dug the hole in the road, and about 40 years before they filled it back in again.
Some news never gets old, apparently.