The following passage is something I wrote in an email the other day. I quite like the idea...
"I am not sure I could stand up for a Shakespeare play. They are rather long. I admire them, yes but I'm not captivated by him. I don't think I understand half of the words used. Or I do, he just has a very slow way of getting to the point. Probably because he had to write the dictionary to get his point across as he has apparently provided the English language with more words than anyone else. If he had to write the dictionary as he wrote a play, how did any of the audience ever know what was going on too? Or the cast. Nobody knew what was going on. I bet early performances came with a glossary. And even that came with a second glossary as he used fake words in the first glossary. And it carried on ad infinitum."
So there we go. Adios for now...
Tuesday, 31 August 2010
Sunday, 1 August 2010
To Enter or Not To Enter?
Yesterday afternoon, I had a conversation with my brother, where we mused about Britain's Got Talent. Or rather, I mused and he just listened as he smoked whatever it was he was smoking. It could have been a simple cigarette but between you, me and the whole Internet, I don't think it was.
Anyway it started with him asking me how my Edinburgh show is going and me answering it in some detail. As a result of this, I then got on to fantasising about becoming massive in comedy, before ultimately coming to terms with the idea that it wouldn't happen by me just sitting on a chair in the back garden. No, I clearly had to enter Britain's Got Talent.
During this chat with my brother, I complained to him that normal comedians never do very well on that show. It's not my brother's fault; his name is Simon but his surname isn't Cowell. the only comedic acts who go through are music-based and they are almost always one trick ponies, who impress when you first see them before then, in the semi-finals, you realise the novelty has worn off, despite the fact they asserted in the previous round that, "We'll keep surprising you, Simon. We've got more routines and surprises up our sleeves and we'll be better than ever." Simon Cowell always believes them. It's never true. Especially not if they get through to the final. Step forward Signature, the Michael Jackson tribute act thing, and that Father and Dad team who did the Cypriot/Greek dancing thing. I can't even remember their name. Either way, by the time the final comes along, we have already seen all of their routines. Shame. Stavros! Stavros Flatley! That was it. Proof that fat is funny for a good minute.
Either way, moving on. I then thought that maybe I should enter Britain's Got Talent? Try out some stand up comedy. In my mind, I'd sail through the subsequent rounds and perform for the Queen. I never get why performing for the Queen is what everyone on Britain's Got Talent seems to want to do. Rather than a decent career, performing for the Queen is your target? I can't verbalise that very well. But I hope you get my point. With some work, I thought I could focus on that for a routine to Simon, Piers and Amanda.
Then I realised that no. I did not want to do that. I think that if I went on Britain's Got Talent, I might head on by myself and stand at the microphone. I'd tell Simon that yes, this has always been my dream and performing for the Queen would be an honour. I'd then say I'm an impressionist. Prior to this round, I should say that before being put in front of the judges I'd just be a normal person and hope they like whatever fact act I come up with. Anyway, once in front of the judges the following would occur: "Take it away." Simon would say. A friend would then run on with a T-shirt emblazoned with 'Music Industry' on it. They'd bend over for me. I'd take out a Simon Cowell mask, put it on and act as though I was raping the shit out of it. My friend could even chuck money out of his hands as I was doing it. And I could catch the coins in mine. I expect my performance would be cut short after a couple of seconds, if that.
But God, it'd be worth it.
Anyway it started with him asking me how my Edinburgh show is going and me answering it in some detail. As a result of this, I then got on to fantasising about becoming massive in comedy, before ultimately coming to terms with the idea that it wouldn't happen by me just sitting on a chair in the back garden. No, I clearly had to enter Britain's Got Talent.
During this chat with my brother, I complained to him that normal comedians never do very well on that show. It's not my brother's fault; his name is Simon but his surname isn't Cowell. the only comedic acts who go through are music-based and they are almost always one trick ponies, who impress when you first see them before then, in the semi-finals, you realise the novelty has worn off, despite the fact they asserted in the previous round that, "We'll keep surprising you, Simon. We've got more routines and surprises up our sleeves and we'll be better than ever." Simon Cowell always believes them. It's never true. Especially not if they get through to the final. Step forward Signature, the Michael Jackson tribute act thing, and that Father and Dad team who did the Cypriot/Greek dancing thing. I can't even remember their name. Either way, by the time the final comes along, we have already seen all of their routines. Shame. Stavros! Stavros Flatley! That was it. Proof that fat is funny for a good minute.
Either way, moving on. I then thought that maybe I should enter Britain's Got Talent? Try out some stand up comedy. In my mind, I'd sail through the subsequent rounds and perform for the Queen. I never get why performing for the Queen is what everyone on Britain's Got Talent seems to want to do. Rather than a decent career, performing for the Queen is your target? I can't verbalise that very well. But I hope you get my point. With some work, I thought I could focus on that for a routine to Simon, Piers and Amanda.
Then I realised that no. I did not want to do that. I think that if I went on Britain's Got Talent, I might head on by myself and stand at the microphone. I'd tell Simon that yes, this has always been my dream and performing for the Queen would be an honour. I'd then say I'm an impressionist. Prior to this round, I should say that before being put in front of the judges I'd just be a normal person and hope they like whatever fact act I come up with. Anyway, once in front of the judges the following would occur: "Take it away." Simon would say. A friend would then run on with a T-shirt emblazoned with 'Music Industry' on it. They'd bend over for me. I'd take out a Simon Cowell mask, put it on and act as though I was raping the shit out of it. My friend could even chuck money out of his hands as I was doing it. And I could catch the coins in mine. I expect my performance would be cut short after a couple of seconds, if that.
But God, it'd be worth it.
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