bAdvertising

I figured I should finally write a little something here to commemorate the fact that come the end of this month, we of The ACRE will be celebrating our first live show.  We've done live stuff before, in our ones and twos, but this will be the first time we've collectively written an hour's show and will be performing it off our own impetus.

All the live work I've done before has comprised of doing a turn at someone else's night, on a bill of acts unrelated to me.  I'm finding it considerably more daunting to be putting on a night of which the main attraction is meant to be us.  My relationship with the Facebook event page is best described as neurotic, "What do you mean you aren't attending, Person-I-Vaguely-Knew-in-School!?  You fucking cock!" etc.

And on the other side of things the fact that there are actually confirmed attendees fills me with dread when I am holding a 10 minute script which is meant to be exactly 6 times longer within 3 weeks.  It will be.  I am going to write the hilarious fuck out of that script.  When I'm done with it it won't even know it was born.

Yes, yes, self-indulgent passive-aggression, we get it.  What is it about?

The show is cleverly hurriedly cleverly called bAdvertising, which is 1) concise, 2) amusing, 3) a clever play on the iProduct way of naming things and also 4) sums up our basic stance that it is bad.

We're running it in the Gartholwg Lifelong Learning Centre, so we are writing it as a mock adult learning course, which is apt, and is a conceit we hope will cover any sticky spots in the script ("Hay, this bit is educational, that's why you aren't laughing!").

There will be at least 1 actual joke.

I suppose I am documenting this here for posterity and to placate my own worry that though I am not specifically writing the show at this point, I am at least doing show-related work.

On the off-chance that you, the hypothetical person reading this, is within reasonable distance and of a desire to come and see it, all the details can be found here.

Now, I am going to pull a pad and pen out and actually write for it.

"Knock knock".  "Who's there?"  "Advertising."  "Advertising who?" "".

I'll finish that one off later.

Customer Inquiries

My good friend the artist Arthur Isherwood recently penned three customer inquiries and it seems unlikely that he will receive a reply due to the eccentric turn of phrase which he utilises.  He has asked me to replicate them here for public consumption, which I, being a great friend, have agreed to.

The first was sent to the ice cream company Antonio Federici, who recently had an advert picturing a pregnant nun banned.

Hello,

I recently became aware of your company following the widely reported banning of your "Immaculately Conceived" poster ad.  I personally found this ad gently amusing, as did my wife, who is a Roman Catholic, and therefore supposedly the sort of person who would have been insulted in the eyes of the ASA.  Needless to say, I feel as though the banning was misjudged and heavy-handed.

I was heartened to discover, reading further into a BBC article, that your firm was planning on "securing a series of billboards close to and along the planned route of the Pope's cavalcade around Westminster Cathedral", with posters in the same vein.  Since this visit has now played out, and no report has surfaced, I was wondering whether it had been possible to see out this plan, or whether you had, once again, been hamstringed by the misguided actions of the ASA?

Your desire to "comment on and question, using satire and gentle humour, the relevance and hypocrisy of religion and the attitudes of the church to social issues" certainly chimes with me personally, although I do hope that you retain your desire to make ice cream that is delicious and cold.

While satirising the idea of imaculate conception does question some of the inherent hypocrisies in religion, I wonder if it would be more effective to focus on certain hypocrisies that are current hot potatoes.  For example, the current Pope is making waves in the press for having covered up, and failing to protect the victims of, a large-scale Catholic priest paedophile ring, and I feel it would be an incredibly bold way for you to comment on and question the hypocrisy of religion and the attitudes of the church to social issues if you addressed this colossal hypocrisy.  It would be fairly simple, I would suggest, to create an ad for this in the style of your current "Ice cream is our religion" campaign, perhaps showing a kneeling child with its eyes closed being covered in vanilla ice cream by a gurning priest.  The tag line could be 'it is more blessed to give than to receive' or perhaps 'see no evil, evil semen'.  Perhaps I have overstepped a mark there, the ideas are your jurisdiction, after all.

Looking forward to hearing from you

Arthur Isherwood

The second was to Imperial Leather.

Hello,

I am a student, and as such don't often have the opportunity to treat myself to a washing experience, not one that is enhanced by the presence of brand name soap anyway, and a number of blue moons have passed since last I was fortunate enough to cleanse myself with an Imperial Leather product.

My Imperial Leather lull was put to an end last night however, when I returned home to visit my parents.  I took advantage of all the home comforts I have not been privy to in my Sawesque dormroom.  Food and drink were first on my list, but, as you may have guessed, I then had a shower.

This shower was punctuated by the blessed presence of Imperial Leather shower gel, the Softly Softly range to be more precise.  In my haste to wash I overlooked its milky hue and applied it generously on my body.  It was only on later inspection that I discovered it was made of Jojoba Milk and Vitamin E.  Now I am not overly familiar with the Jojoba, and since I was suspicious that it was derived from the word 'juju', I investigated.  I have since discovered that this is a "girly" ingredient.  I further investigated your range of shower gels and discovered that one is 'For Men', further raising my stress levels.

What had I just done to myself by smothering my masculine body with a shower gel which is not for men?

I am panicked, and writing to you to enquire whether there will be adverse effects on my male body due to the use of this non-for men shower gel.  I am quite concerned as I have a beard, which is possibly the most manly thing, aside from a penis, possibly.  If there will be adverse effects, are there any steps I can take to counteract the feminisation of my body?  I have been self-medicating with steak and ale pies, but I just feel bloated, which is a woman's emotion.

Yours hopefully

Arthur Isherwood

And the third was about Lilt (but sent to their parent company Coca-Cola).

Hello,

Whilst writing this is I am currently slaking my thirst with a bottle of Lilt Zero.  It is fulfilling it's role quite well, which is amazing considering I am quite concerned, and it is 'best consumed chilled out'.  I can only imagine how wonderful it would taste were I only able to calm down.

The source of my consternation on this occasion is the declaration of the bottle of Lilt that is has a 'totally tropical taste'.  I assume this claim stems from the fact that it contains pineapple and grapefruit, which are considered tropical fruit.  I was wondering whether the pineapple and grapefruit used to make Lilt are sourced from the tropics, or whether the fruits themselves simply suggest a tropical taste, rather than them being an actual tropical taste.  Closer inspection of the ingredients listed, however, shows that pineapple and grapefruit juice from concentrates make up only 5% of the beverage.

I was wondering further, therefore, whether the carbonated water, citric acid, acidity regulator, sweeteners, flavourings, preservatives, antioxidants, stabilisers, colour and the source of phenylanine listed on the bottle were also sourced from tropical climes, or whether they contribute to a tropical-like taste.

I inquire because the drink claims to have a 'totally' tropical taste, whereas my research has led me to surmise that in reality is has a 'somewhat' tropical taste.

Yours inquisitively

Arthur Isherwood.

Good old Arthur, being a low-level nuisance.  Maybe one day he will use his tedious nagging for good.

I Drink Magners

It is interesting, to me, that the Chortle-located shitstorm about the apparent selling out of Mark Watson comes so soon after I awkwardly attempted to express my feeling that it is difficult to compare comedians to each other, since there is no strictly defined idea of what a ‘comedian’ is. My exact words were:

“The problem with these arguments is that there are no clearly defined grounds of what a ‘comedian’ is and does, therefore arguing that one comedian is ‘better’ than another is always going to be a completely subjective process”.

The recent article by David Jesudason offers a very different view of a comedian, claiming that:

“The role of the comedian is to highlight the ills of our society and not be scared to say things that other people are afraid of highlighting.”

The rebuttal I would give to this is already redundant, as it has already been made by Carl Donnelly, who says in his direct reply to David Jesudason:

“The role of a comedian is to make people laugh.”

I think anyone would be hard pressed to argue against that statement, but this simple fact is often overlooked in the light of your personal preference of comedy style. Regardless of what topics, themes or styles are ‘the best’ in comedy, the first port of call is to make it funny, and not, as David Jesudason suggests: ‘to highlight the ills of our society’.

It is quite an odd feeling to be advocating this, as I believe the comedians I favour tend to, in my opinion, ‘highlight the ills of our society’, or moreover to, in some way, examine the human condition. Despite saying this, it is only my own opinion which informs me that this is, in fact, what these particular comedians are doing, and different ears hearing the same material might disagree completely. Despite my enjoyment of what I have heard described as ‘comedy-as-art’, I am also fond of comedy for comedy’s sake, and why not? Laughing is still laughing even if there isn’t a hard-hitting point being made. In terms of actual laughter caused (referred to hereafter as ALC), the most successful radio comedy I have heard is Another Case of Milton Jones, which is a wonderfully crafted jaunt through a ridiculously skewed story, based on the waver thin conceit of a plotline, knitting together a string of garlic puns. No holding a mirror up to society here, just jokes. Which were what I wanted, of course, since I had wilfully tuned in with foreknowledge of Milton Jones’ style.

In a far more recent example, I went to see Chris Corcoran’s Committee Meeting in the Muni just yesterday. The show is a cheeky character double-act, with Corky taking the role of Chairman of a Labour Club, ably helped by veteran caretaker and all-around handyman Rex. This particular outing involved a surprise birthday party for Rex, which led to a “This is Your Life” pastiche charting Rex’s unexpectedly colourful history. The night featured claims that Rex once stood in for a poorly Brian May, wrote health and safety speeches for Martin Luther King (which were overlooked in favour of ad-libbing something about a dream) and also highlighting Rex’s time in the Soviet Union. A little unusual, and far more than a little funny, the life and times of such a traditional ‘no-bother’ aged Welsh caretaker were a joy to experience. Also featuring were the Raymond and Mr Timpkins Revue, who play unbelievably heavily on misheard song lyrics expressed through props, who seemed to do the joke to death, only to have the joke resussitated under the weight of the fact that they dared to stretch the joke that long.

Pointless, and hilarious. Glorious

Further apologies for the poorly written nature of this entry, I was rushing and stressed, I will revisit this eventually as there are interesting points I want to make more clearly.

Eurovision Wrong Contest

I dislike the Eurovision song contest in a very big way.  It is currently in the middle of the voting, so I will be able to dive you the results at the end of this blog.  Chances are you’ve either seen the results by now, or you don’t care.  I don’t care, but I have been trapped in the living room and I am being subjected to this rubbish, so I am going to share the pain.

 

I think what I am most disappointed with is the lack of Bill Bailey.  I doubt he would have even wanted to participate, but from a completely selfish point of view it would have made it more enjoyable for me to have a little nugget of Bailey in the middle.

 

I have just finished watching the bit where they lowered a giant plastic pool filled with bellyflopping women into the crowd, and I really don’t know what to say about that.  I mean that was really boggling.  Just weird.  At times it looked like some sordid sex-pool-burlesque-psychadelia business, and at other times, most notably the bellyflopping times, it looked like some wet, scantily clad women bellyflopping.  Because that is what it was.

 

Here are some things which I disliked about the Eurovision Song Contest this year:

 

1. Dita Von Teese’s presence in Germany’s song.  Is that really allowed?  She is hugely famous, although at this point in the points giving, it seems not to have done Germany well to be affiliated with a burlesque act, it may only have served to further emphasize Germany’s black-leather, eurotrash image.  Is that libellous?  Possibly.
2. My mother got freaked out by the fully blue sequin-faced man in the Albanian act.  That was strange.  They were also joined onstage by a hellish Thing 1 and Thing 2 act, which scared me to my core.
3. The growing old screen in the Russian act was a terrifying thing, filmed straight on to the poor woman’s face.  The recording utilised a cut that I imagine would be used in a recording of a suicide message.  Seeing a woman looking directly into the camera and singing in a faux-sincere manner makes me wish that it was actually a suicide message.  Or at the very least a trigger recording that would set some hitmen in motion to take out the key people involved in broadcast of this rubbish.
4. Malta were awesome.  Cheese & Energy is what I want from the Eurovision, not hateful pop-ballads sung in horrific American accents.  No-one in the Eurovision song contest should speak with that accent.  As the participants are all European.  It is in the name.
5. UK.  UK?  No I am not.  Seeing Andrew Lloyd Webber’s twitching Peter Pettigrew face convulsing softly on my screen is not an enjoyable thing.  Just like Dita Von Teese, I don’t know whether Master Pettigrew should be allowed to play on stage, because he is a world famous musical talent, and also because he is vermin.  Sorry Andrew, your music is nice, but I don’t like you.
6. The Ibiza rave that that Finland made was hypnotic.  But horrible.

 

It’s not quite the end now though but it’s fairly obvious already that Norway are going to win, which is good because the singer actually played an instrument aswell, which wins him some actual musician points.  I grudgingly accept his talent, even though he has a High School Musical face, which I think fits him into Charlie Brooker’s “made in a Petri dish” category of human beings.

 

What I dislike the most about this Eurovision, even more than Graham Norton’s presence, is the way in which the fact that our act, Jade, was prostituted out across the Europe to tour extensively and be interviewed and appear on TV generally.  In recent years people have disliked the Eurovision because they believe that the voting system is based on politics rather than quality of song, which is probably true.  But this year our presence quite high up in terms of points is not reliant on the quality of the song, which I accept is good even though it isn’t to my personal test.  The song is nice enough, though the lyrics are lazy rubbish, which is ‘necessary’ so that other countries can learn the song in what is not their first language.  However the reason we have received more points this year (more than none) is largely down to the fact that the song has been widely advertised all over the continent, and to be completely honest I don’t think that that would have been a good way to have won, and makes me hate the coverage of this event, where succeeding because we smeared our shitepop all up in peoples faces is a good thing.  It isn’t.

 

There’s also something to be said of the fact that people are picked to give points based on their physical looks, as though this one individual can be held up as a sexy advert for the country.

 

“Ooh bloody hell I should go to Armenia, they have some sexy people there!”

 

What a load of rubbish.  But what is more rubbish?  The rubbish or the rubbish that watched it?  Or the rubbish that watched it and then wrote a blog about it?  Or the rubbish that subsequently read the blog?  Yeah~.  Think about it.

 

It’s the original rubbish.  Eurovision.  Rubbish*.

 

*Apart from the sexy Israeli woman on the bongos.  Nice.