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the mad claims of military mite or cultural superiority spouted by rulers certain of their own global importance. But more appropriately (I hope) are the shaky economics, the isolation from the ‘mainstream’ and the paranoia / bitterness that manifests itself as rampant patriotism. The constant seeking of favours is another; blagging, pleading and making do to just keep things going, like Cubans and their 1950s Cadillacs with engines bolted together with discarded coke cans and rusted corrugated iron. With this metaphor in the mind, the future can look nothing but bleak. I look around and see once reputable institutions resorting to running features on My Chemical Romance and ghost written previews for beer sponsored festivals. I see their shiny covers, dull but functional sites and their 10,000 ‘likes’ and, like the East German looking over the wall, I am naturally drawn, one part jealousy, two part disgust. To step away from this for a second, I believe as people our personalities are formed in our late teens. From there we grow and develop but fundamentally hold those ideas to be true. Even to be a staunch liberal at twenty and a hardened rascist at forty is still the former informing the latter. Your roots are inescapable. And so it is with the socialist countries and the independent fanzine; the inevitable idea of reform rears its head. To survive, are you willing to alter your core motives as informed as they may claim to be by your original guiding principals?
Celebrity Prattle: It’s where the money is… August 2010 Roland X
“So how does this work?” asked Michael McIntyre. “Do I pay you everything now, or at the end, with a tip?” The bus driver gave a bemused expression. His grasp of the English language was not spectacular. He could string the odd sentence together though, and worked his way through a copy of The Sun most days. And he was a huge Michael McIntyre fan. He waved the star of Michael McIntyre’s Comedy Roadshow along the bus with a wide Caribbean smile. Michael McIntyre replied with his trademark cheeky grin. That was payment enough. The funny man sat on the big bus.1 His chauffeur’s unexpected sickness had really thrown a spanner in the works. But, after throwing a bit of a huff, his agent had persuaded him that an experience with public transport may result in some highly comic material. After all, everyone gets the bus, right?! Least, that’s what the market research people told him, as they studied the key demographic that had bought his last DVD. The resulted had shown that he was most popular amongst “people who ride buses”, “people who work at desks”, “women educated to a GCSE Level Standard”, “middle aged women on the school run” and “Grans.” Amazon just said “fans of Peter Kay and Paddy McGuiness.” He had a lot to live up to. It was a grim evening. The bus was warm and sweaty. In the taxi to the bus station, he had imagined getting mobbed, like The Beatles at JFK. A few autographs, at least, as he walked up the centre aisle through his adoring public. But these people had ignored him completely. They were grey and bland
1
This is a reference to a Stewart Lee piece about how rubbish Dan Brown is as a writer. It ties with the idea of different approaches to
comedy explored in this. At the time this was published, it was already fashionable to deride to ‘broad’ comedy of Michael Macintyre. This
article doesn’t intend to do that but simply paints a picture for comedic value and is again exploring / expanding into creative writing, whilst still making points about authenticity.