I-Cons

There is a tad too much to write about today. It seems that 2012 is rife for human error already and today has witnessed Ed Milliband’s amazing twuckup (yes, I’m going to call it that. I know it sounds horrible. Tough), following on Diane Abbott’s Twuckup yesterday. More and more it seems that if you are a person who values your credibility at all, you probably either shouldn’t use social networking sites like Twitter, or you should very carefully check what you say before you hit send. Whatever Labour decide amongst them they haven’t had the strongest year despite it only being 6 days in. Their plans to boost popularity announced just before the new year, seem to to have transformed today into an announcement that they will be accepting the cuts in order to seem credible. This is pretty strange. I’m concerned there will be some sort of chain reaction whereby the Green Party will start condoning people drive everywhere and the Anti-Nazi League will promote anti-Semitism. I mean who do Labour want to seem credible to though? The working person? Or the upper class, tax-dodging business man? It seems far more the latter than the former who’s blood the red of their motif is meant to represent. Oddly for a party with Balls, they really don’t seem to have any. It appears their long term strategy is to make themselves seem so ridiculous and laughable as an opposition party that the schadenfraude loving British public will vote for them for a laugh. To be fair, it worked for Boris Johnson in London, so it may well work for them. Which in turn, would really fuck off the monster raving looney party.

I don’t know what political party’s think people want anymore. It concerns me that the less they care about the people that vote for them, the more it will become a battle of who is the least shitty. If it hasn’t already. It isn’t helped by the media projecting what we should want on us. I’m talking in particular about the release today of The Iron Lady, a film about Margaret Thatcher, which sadly didn’t just CGI her head onto footage from Downfall. Cameron today says he thought the film was ‘too soon’ which I suppose is correct as the public needs ample time to get over any National or International disaster before it can be transferred to screen. It’s odd that Cameron thinks the film should have been made at another time, concerned it doesn’t promote the idea of a ‘great Prime Minister’, as I would state the opposite. I haven’t seen the film, but my understanding is that it creates a sympathy for someone who clearly had none for anyone else. If people born in the 90′s had no knowledge of the impact of Thatcherism, they will perhaps see the Conservatives as less of a threat than they are, ultimately viewing Cameron in a different light too.

What I really don’t get is when it was decided that the ideology of a hero or film worthy character was changed so dramatically. In the olden days there was folklore of heroes such as Robin Hood or William Tell who fought for the people. Since that time there have been a tidal wave of icons ranging fictional and non, ranging from Malcolm X and Michael Collins to Billy Elliot or even Spiderman (poverty stricken young kid, fighting for justice despite his home problems). Sure I’m skipping tons of them and I’m also missing out all those film biopics about serial killers and people like Hitler, but fact is, in recent years there has been a spate of films where we are to sympathise with rich, wealthy, elitist individuals. The King’s Speech for example which was so wonderfully but rightfully ruined by my dad’s inclusion of ‘He was a neo-fascist you know’ referring to George VI’s relationship with Oswald Moasley. It did ruin Colin Firth’s stuttering hero somewhat to know that his character was chummy with a man who followed some of Adolf’s ideals. And now Margaret Thatcher, whose industry and life destroying decisions are apparently skimmed over quite lightly and instead the audience’s are asked to warm to this ageing woman with dementia.

It’d be nice to have a film about someone who we can all relate too again, though sadly I can’t see it happening anytime soon. With not even a political party to represent the middle and lower classes, chances are the next Oscar winning film will be about Fred Goodwin looking for love.

On a hugely different note, myself and L watched Being Elmo last night, the documentary on Kevin Clash. It is easily, one of the best docufilms I’ve seen in some time, provoking the first man tears of 2012. Of course, it can’t really go wrong, featuring on one of the best loved muppets ever and the well loved and kind man that somewhat created him. The film points out that Elmo’s appeal is simply that he loves and that as well as loving people, he needs people to love him, which makes him so vulnerable yet warming. It makes me so pleased that The Henson Company is having something of a comeback considering it not only makes some of the best telly ever, but the whole group seems to operate on love for the work and that’s a such a rarity nowadays. All I’m saying is, there’s a reason post Iron Lady that people won’t be buying Tickle-Me Thatchers for presents.

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Black Mirror

I’ve been to see my tiny nan today. I usually come away with some sort of brilliant tale or insight after seeing my nan, who is still oh so very sharp in her old age. Today’s was a brilliant story of a neighbour of hers who rather sadly suffers from severe dementia. This lady suddenly went missing and no one, including her family, had any idea of her whereabouts and understandably, they were all highly concerned for her safety. Then after five days of this she was found, of all places, having a lovely holiday in Israel. How on Earth she’d made it out of the country with her condition, no one has any idea, including her, but I just think that’s wonderful. Other than that story there was much fun banter, a sufficient amount of her force feeding me and L everything she had in her fridge and a long conversation about how she has, despite her eye site, started reading lots of books again because TV is so rubbish. Here you have someone who has read trazillions of books, but has slowed her reading intake in recent years due to the strain on her peepers, returning to the format because the quality of television is so shoddy she’d prefer the pain for better entertainment, than have an easy time watching utter shit. I think that says an awful lot about how rubbish telly is.

Well, not all telly. I thought last night’s (and in fact last week’s) Black Mirror was amazing. Many on Twitter seemed to be upset with its futuristic view, complaining that the idea behind Charlie Brooker’s three dramas was their dark reflective view (hence the name) on today’s society. I disagree and I felt, for the first time in a very very long time, that I was watching something that was both gripping in terms of plot, and very poignant in terms of message. A world where everything around you is a screen where you are forced to watch content, costing you money to ignore it, and all content being a distorted controlled view in the first place? Sounds like an easy extension of everything that’s been happening in our newspapers of late, the constant change in technology so that we are always glued to TV’s, iPhones and computers and finally the fact that programs such as X-Factor (the show so wonderfully parodied in the program) now dominate the music charts to the extent that many are dissuaded from hearing original songs or talent.

I tweeted last night that the winner of X-Factor was the ‘ Destruction of Originality, Talent, Taste & Creativity, who apparently got all the votes.’ For those of you that manage to avoid the onslaught of shit that is that program, no, that isn’t the name of one of the bands on there. Sadly. It was a comment on how all that program does is allow us to think that churning out rehashes of the same song are what we should be lapping up around this time of year. That the Christmas chart is now dead – long gone are those fun memories of seeing what Xmas no.1 will be – and that we can easily hack out a group a year to earn Cowell even more money before melting back into the obscurity from whence they came or embrace the hideous nature of Celebrity Reality TV shows and survive by being famous for being on reality TV. After tweeting that I received one response from someone that simply said ‘sad sad reaction from a performer.’ I’m not sure in what context they thought it was sad. If it was bitterness, then no. That’s not my field of entertainment so I don’t envy those on there. I’m sure it must rile up all those people who work hard at writing and playing a song or a piece of music they care about and has come from their hearts, watching some young pretty upstarts get given instant status for resigning one of Gary Barlow’s songs in front of Gary Barlow so his ego can expand even quicker. Its not bitterness, but perhaps just dismay. I’m a big music lover and nothing anyone from any of these programs can ever do will move me in the way, say, Nick Drake’s River Man will. Or Jackson C.Frank’s Blues Run The Game. Or get me as excited and hyper as my favourite hip hop tunes or loud anthems or make me want to walk across the vast planes of the Arctic in the way that Sigur Ros does. It’s all just noise that doesn’t ever portray how the people signing it feel when they’re doing it. Probably because they overwhelmed at their quick escape from the usual run of life, yet trapped in the system that they can’t leave for fear of going back to it.

This aspect of Black Mirror, amongst others, was spot on. With more and more power being given to corporations whilst others suffer on a slave wage, what’s to say that Brooker’s dystopian outlook couldn’t become a reality? I asked my Nan today about her views on the Europe Veto, as she has been political since she was a little girl, brought up by her communist parents and having to look after her sister while they fought in the Cable Street riots against Mosely’s thugs. Her view was that had we not veto’d the result we’d be in trouble, not because of the Euro, but because it is one step closer to globalisation, and nearer to us being dictated by one overpowering government. I was surprised at this as I’d had the opinion that Cameron cutting us off was a bad idea. Then again at the same time, she hates Cameron and thinks isolating ourselves is also dangerous, especially as his motives were to aid not us, the people, but the banks and the corporations. Either way, its not a nice outlook. So either way, the future doesn’t look all too shiny. So was Black Mirror a sci-fi drama or an apt satirical commentary? I say C4 keep those tapes somewhere very safe and we’ll watch them again in 40 years and see.

Striking Off

After three days of blogging about the strike action I was very much determined not to write about it anymore today. I like to presume some people abroad read this and if that’s remotely true (its not) then I hope I haven’t bored them to death with notes on an economic climate they don’t know about while probably worrying about their own. Thing is, too many things have happened in the last 24 hours that all tie neatly into yesterday’s strike action – not least me taking part in the march itself in Central London – for me not to drag this subject out a while longer. If you do live abroad, why not change area names to areas near you, situation names to things that affect you and celebrities or politicians that you know about and then read away. Or perhaps just don’t read and come back tomorrow when I’ll talk about buying my friend’s car which also happened yesterday. Or write your own blog. Seriously, I don’t see why I should have to do all the work. Ahem.

So after yesterday’s blog, I headed down to the march starting at Lincoln’s Inn Fields with all the public sector workers on strike to show my support. It was a pretty amazing atmosphere with a very feel good vibe and workers from all areas of employment. Hospital workers, ambulance staff, civilian police workers, firemen and so many more. There were easily several hundreds of thousands with balloons, banners, goodwill and a want for justice and fairer pensions trailing all the way from the start of the march back way past Holborn station and beyond. My personal heroes were the Pensioners there to fight for the rights of future pensioners and the Physio’s who banner said they were ‘standing up for fairer pensions’. Brilliant. I had to leave early to drop off a polar bear costume (long story) but despite the oppressive and way over the top police presence, the forces seemed happy enough and the march went ahead with singing, music and a good message to state that things need to change.

Then later that night I did a gig in a West London suburb which is notoriously wealthy. I have done this gig several times before and love the people that run it. It’s always been fun, but last night was tough. I was exhausted from the days activities and probably not in a very focused state of mind, but I did find them quite tough to get going. It turned out many of them had had difficult days because of the strike, due to the type of jobs they do and how the public sector’s demand for rights gets in the way. One man worked for the Ministry of Justice and explained that he was tired because he’d started his day driving through a picket line. Another woman who was a civil servant and should’ve been on strike herself complained that she had to stay at home to look after her children, both of whom were old enough to look after herself. When I asked the room if anyone there had been on strike they laughed at me like I had said a joke. The mere idea was shocking to them as though only scum would do such a thing. L overheard at the back a woman say when I asked an audience member what they did that they bet ‘he was on strike’ as though it was an insult. I told them I’d been on the march and supported the workers even though I am self employed and in no hope of a pension anyway and they looked at me confused, unable to understand. These people who will never have to worry about pensions or mortgages or standard of living. I felt very angry and then after a while realised that while some did appear to have a snooty view about it all, some just appeared very guilty, almost knowing that times are very hard for most people on standard salaries, but there’s little they can or more importantly, will do about it. I left the night feeling deflated, only for a few people to pull me to one side afterwards to say they thought it was great, but it appeared they just couldn’t support me out loud. I really wish we could change the stigma that standing up for your right have a reasonable standard of living whilst in employment and retirement is a dirty thing. It’s not. Its the bravest thing you can do, and far less scummy than those who oppose people standing up for themselves and each other.

I watched David Cameron on This Morning, this morning (I know I said I wouldn’t say that again, but duty called) as he squirmed around Schofield’s very good questions, saying that the strike had done nothing. Yet its in the news today that talks have restarted with hope of reaching a new negotiation. So if it hadn’t done anything, why do the government appear afraid? The news is full of contradictions about the numbers involved, saying only 15% of hospital staff walked out, yet then stating that the police had to help the ambulance service due to shortage of numbers. I wish the BBC would stop being so afraid to say that it was a big movement and a clear sign that things have to change. Cameron insisted on saying how little money the UK has, despite today’s reports that on bracing ourselves for the Eurozone Crisis that consistently say Britain’s banks are the strongest in the world, even more so since the recession started, probably due to the Government’s very convenient safeguarding of the banking sector. The PM also happily pointed out once again that many private sector workers get pensions far less than public sector workers, failing to point out that private sector workers often earn a lot more and have their own private pensions on top of their state pensions, meaning they get a lot more (depending on their field of employment of course).

I spent sometime on Twitter this morning mentioning all of this and was once again subject to abuse from someone called Horatio (right wing abuse from someone with a name like that? Shocking huh? Who’d've thought?) telling me I was a ‘d-bag’ because the talks were ongoing anyway and that the strikes were just for publicity. I responded by pointing out that the talks hadn’t happened since November the 2nd and how the government had failed to give the unions any agreeable solutions. The unions had attempted to stop the strike had such agreements been made, but they weren’t and so it wasn’t. Horatio insisted on saying I only agreed with it because I was a unionist, whilst using the wrong you’re (he used your) and calling me an idiot, as his only line of defence against fact. I pointed out his spelling error, ignorance and the fact that his name was probably in relation to his higher use of prostates than most due to his lack of likability (ho-ratio). Yes, cheap but fun. He wasn’t even following me, so yet again another example of a narrow minded twat going out of his way to be insulting and disallow people from having their own point of views.

I will never understand these people who think the democratic right to have a point of view, decent education, welfare and security is some sort of threat to them, and soon I will stop trying to. All I hope is that one day the world will relise they should probably have their own island somewhere where they can all be bigoted at each other while the rest of us stop suffering at their hands. The strike yesterday helped affirm for me that Britain isn’t as apathetic as the news would have us believe and that people do care. More than that, they’ll continue to care as long as they are being oppressed. Let’s hope another strike doesn’t need to happen again. Not because it’ll stop some private sector worker from some disruption, but because an agreement can be made to prevent these people trying to survive on a pension rate so far below the rate of inflation and cost of living that they barely live to see their last few years.

Twitriol

My routine in the morning, generally, is to wake up and before I do anything else, check my phone for any overnight correspondence. I realise this is quite sad. Some of you probably have a cup of tea first or use the loo, but in today’s day and age where I may as well have my phone surgically attached to my face (I’d have it on my left cheek if you’re curious) it’s one of the first things in my brain on my to do list for the day. Often I’ll have a series of mixed rubbish, occasionally some nice messages, sometimes a few troll spam things, some dull Facebook events and an email about an event I don’t want to go to. Today however, I received this message from @KSteelePTech:

‘What a wanker you are’.

This wasn’t quite what I was expecting. I did a tweet last night concerning Derren Brown’s show about hypnotising an assassination of Stephen Fry, where I perhaps wasn’t too nice to the celebrity in question and I assumed maybe it was a backlash of that. But checking what it was in reply to, it appeared that actually he was more upset with this tweet I had sent:

@TiernanDouieb Now this has been proven to work I say we all give @DerrenBrown£1 and get Cameron killed. Plan?

Searching through this man’s previous replies to people he seemed to spend a long time telling Ed Balls he was a dick and spouting about how George Osbourne was wrong. It amazes me the vitriol people can have on twitter, and what amazes me more is that those who choose to go out of their way to write something nasty about people’s freedom of speech are nearly always supporters of the Conservative Party or another right wing faction. I never see anyone from the Green Party going round Twitter lambasting anyone who says they’ve driven anywhere. It just doesn’t happen. Sadly it just goes to show that the people who’s mindset is to support a party who’s policies are often to the detriment of others are ignorant themselves and very happy to have double standards on the idea of free speech. I don’t sit around finding everyone who’s supporting David Cameron on Twitter and sending them a message to say how wrong their beliefs are. Though I’m starting to think I should.

I wanted to reply to him about how he obviously never has to use the NHS and neither do any members of his family or their friends. I wanted to question if he gives a shit about disabled people and their rights, or the amount of youth that are unemployed in the country and if he has any offspring and why he wouldn’t be worried about their futures. I could have ranted about how the UK deficit is much lower than many other Western countries and how this is all a scam to implement regimes that are just destroying the country’s economy further while a few will triumph with further wealth. And then I wanted to ask him if he really believed that me calling Cameron a wanker was unjust and more importantly when exactly did I lose my right to express an opinion on anyone or anything when I live in a country where freedom of speech is supposedly a given.

I didn’t though as I couldn’t fit that in a tweet. Instead I blocked him as spam and I hope its ruined his day.

 

Oh on a different note, I was on CBBC’s The Slammer yesterday. You can see it here:

IPLAYER

Thoughts on Troy Davis

Its a horrible feeling when the last thing you post on Twitter is a possible hooray at the stay of a innocent man’s execution on Death Row, only to wake up and find out he was indeed murdered during the night. I’m not going to pretend I know all the ins and outs of it all but from everything I read it seemed there was no other conclusion than that Troy Davis was not guilty and was going to be killed simply because the state of Georgia was too stubborn to admit its mistakes. Even if they hadn’t killed him, they had put him through so much mental torture leading him to lethal injection before turning him away again that who knows what state the poor man’s mind was in. Someone I know on Twitter pointed out that he’d been in prison for 20 plus years and yet only know were people giving a shit. He referred to it as jumping on the bandwagon. Yes, it does all seem a little too late, but we haven’t had Twitter for 20 years or the level of awareness that the internet has brought, and sadly often these things do only come to light when there’s little hope left and concern has built to a height.

 

Hopefully what it has done is raise awareness of just how horrendous the death penalty is. No matter how archaic some of the UK’s laws are, punishment by execution was banned here in 1965. Yet it still continues all over the US. Arguments have stated that now, with lethal injection, this is a far more humane was of doing it, but is there ever a humane way to kill someone as a form of penalty? Surely giving a mass murderer a drug into his veins to kill him makes you only as bad as he is? If anything I daresay the death row executioners have killed far more than most serial killers ever have. I severely doubt Shipman ever offed quite as many as Georgia’s Prison State Executioner has. Who has the right to say what crime is severe enough to cost that person their life? And, perhaps the weakest of my arguments, and I’m mentioning it purely to make the most devout religious types think in their own stupid intelligence, with death being so unknown, who’s to say its a worse punishment than being condemned to prison for your entirety of life anyway? Surely that’s a more constant, awful, real hell? And considering most of them are pardoned by a chaplin before they die, surely you’re only confining them to the joys of heaven anyway? I mean really, this hasn’t been thought through.

 

Ultimately though, as awful as Troy Davis death was, we can hope it wasn’t in vain. World leaders are constantly condemning violations of human rights everywhere and yet never pointing the fingers at the US and its continued use of Death Row. With all the celebrity and political backing of Troy Davis, Obama should be ashamed that he did not once speak allowed about his views on the matter and I pray that this is highlighted and perhaps a stop will be put to, not only innocent, but anyone being killed for their misdemeanours. We are better than that as human beings. Its what separates us from animals. That and tea. And shoes. Oh no wait. Horses have shoes. But that’s aside the point. Troy Davis may now sadly have passed on, but it doesn’t mean we have to stop protesting about what’s happened and what no doubt will continue to happen unless there is some intervention. Sign the Amnesty petitions, join the people like the people last night who I admired and wished I could join outside the US Embassy in vigil against such actions, and generally let it be known that despite being miles away we have our eye on the state of Georgia and the US death penalty law, and that it won’t be accepted anymore.

 

RIP Troy Davis. Thoughts to your family, friends and all those who fought for your life for 20 years or even a few days. May your death at least be a stepping stone to saving others.

 

NB: My good friend and excellent comic Keith Farnan’s show ‘Cruel and Unusual’ rather superbly tackled the Death Row issue after his experience of working in law in the US. Hopefully, with this new situation to light he’ll update and tour it again. I may well bully him to do so if he doesn’t. Either way you can see some of it online and if the Troy Davis case upset you as much as it did me, then I recommend watching it. Part one is here:

CRUEL AND UNUSUAL PART ONE – KEITH FARNAN

Fringe 2011: Day 18

I am a fickle man. After my moaning and complaining of a few day’s back at my poor reviews, I received this yesterday from Three Weeks:

Which is all a bit bloody nice isn’t it? It’s so petty but that really was all I needed and now, as far as I’m concerned, my fringe is fine. I honestly couldn’t care what stars I get for the rest of the run, or who sees it, I can call it a four star show forever more. I realise that this is bonkers. Surely I shouldn’t be bothered by any of the reviews? Surely I should’ve re-read last year’s blogs where something very similar happened to me as well? Surely I’m over the whole fringe game by now? No, no clearly not. I have resigned myself to the fact that there are parts of life I just won’t grow up and this is one of them. Take that as a note Edinburgh Fringe, should you wish for me to be returning ever again, then I will need at least one four star review or I’ll have a huff and hide in my room till everyone goes away. Oh and if you could cut all the crusts of my sandwiches too. Thanks.

It is not just the review. Its also partly the fact that we are now two weeks in and I only have to perform my show 9 more times before I get to have a day off which is very exciting. Its so bad to wish time away but let’s be honest, my chest cough and sore throat aren’t going anywhere till I can stay in bed and not shout at a room full of people about how much I hate David Cameron. Oh, as a side note, Al Murray gave me a new remedy for said throat issues. Manuka honey and blackcurrant lozenges. Despite being the sort of sticky you’d only get if they made toffee out of superglue and thusly you end up eating half of the plastic packaging when finally giving up on unwrapping them, they seem to work. And they don’t taste like sheer hell. So so far, these are in the lead way above Sanderson’s which I have avoided since yesterday for fear its actually going past my throat and into my very soul.

I won’t spend another blog huffing and puffing about how much I want to do nothing for a day, so instead let me leave you with some small notes to do with days gone by:

- The Poetry Takeaway is the best thing in the world ever. Its by the Udderbelly and I highly recommend you swing by and get a custom made poem for your good selves.

- Humphrey Ker’s show is by far the best comedy show I’ve seen all fringe. If he doesn’t get nominated for something I will eat my own hat. With sauce of course. I’m not an idiot.

- Al Murray’s daughter is very good at sketch comedy.

- Yesterday a small boy in the audience at Comedy Club 4 Kids told Tom Allen that the best place to take a girl on a date was ‘the bushes’ and then ‘under the slide.’ Amazing.

- There are still tickets left for my show, which people seem to be enjoying. You can get them here:

TIERNAN DOUIEB VS THE WORLD

- the Haribo Super Mix advert is the worst thing I have ever seen in my life ever.

- My intro music for my show is Goodnight Lenin. They are awesome and via Twitter have found out I use their song and have now told me they will walk onstage to one of my jokes. I am more pleased about this than most things.

Fringe 2011: Day 14

The Edinburgh Rally. Not a car race, far from it in fact, but more a tactic used by many a festival stalwart, wherein a text, tweet and Facebook message is shunted around all those that you know may help a friend in need to draw a crowd on an otherwise dead day. I have never ever used this before but often receive them from people saying that a reviewer is in or some other big occurrence. I will always try and help but this year I have been generally rubbish at doing so and its very bad form considering how today, on my first usage of such a system, the crowds came out in force. Due to a screw up in the Edinburgh Fringe programme – and let’s face it, my lack of TV appearances or profile – I had a whole zero people booked in to see my show today. This in itself is the opposite of fun. However when that is combined with the fact that a reviewer (who has in the past not looked on me kindly) was going to be in as well as a film crew recording the whole show, my day started off in a panic. Well that’s not true. It started with an egg and marmite muffin, which is a brilliant way to go, but once that had been digested, figures had been discussed and the reality of the situation has hit me in the face, the combined power of yolk and yeast in awesome dough had well worn out and dissipated into the mere memory of my gut.

So a tweet went out, a humble text sent and a rather distressed call to my agent made, all the while me praying I didn’t have to cancel the show. I didn’t at all. Thanks to many a brilliant comic and a Twitter follower my message was resent over and over again, while several responded to my text message and arrived in force leaving me with a really lovely and packed room of brilliant people. And a reviewer. And a film crew who got the sort of recording I could only dream of. Huzzah! What with my show being strong the message of unity and solidarity it felt very much like it had all pulled through. Us comic types can properly stick together like glue when necessary, yes indeed. Now all I need is for my reviews not to be shit and to start coming out and we should be on a roll, only a week and a bit in. Which yes, is later than others. Bah. Still day off tomorrow, from two of my three shows, so I can rest the vocal tones, switch off my mind from political ramblings and hope I needn’t get texting and tweeting everyone again on Wednesday when I return. The Edinburgh rally much like antibiotics, mustn’t be overused. No siree.

 

Last bit of waffle, me and Tim’s ‘Adventurer’s Club – Great Arctic Caper’ got a lovely review in the Stage today despite it being merely an hour of bonkers nonsense. The reviewer, who was an awesome elderly gent on two crutches an donning a dear stalker hat which made him look like a prime member of our Adventurer’s Club, has insisted on calling me ‘Tiern’. I have no idea why. Enjoy reading that over and over again whilst sniggering to yourself.

THE STAGE – ADVENTURER’S CLUB REVIEW 

Teary Dubstep

Yesterday Rufus Hound very kindly RT’d something I tweeted. If you are already confused by this statement then you need to jump on the future wagon and eat some tech biscuits because I’m twitter chatting right now fool. And if you didn’t understand that sentence, then don’t worry as that was made up mumjo jumbo. So yes, Rufus did that and as a result some lovely people from the Bury St Edmunds gig on Sunday followed me and sent me nice messages. However, most of them contained some sort of reference to the fact that if Rufus hadn’t done such a deed, they would have never remembered my name due to it being over complicated. And I quote:

‘ loved you last night at the apex. shame i cant tell anyone who you are all that comes out is tierundubduberm…..’

And:

‘waaahhheeeeeyyyy!! Thank fuck for @RufusHound‘s RT, saved me searching for a name I couldn’t spell! Ace name ace man’

Like I said, lovely things to say and said by nice people, but, once again, it makes me wonder if my name isn’t a curse of some sort. I have for many years worked on the basis that having a name like mine would be brilliant due to the fact that absolutely no one else has it. I’m pretty sure I am the only Tiernan Douieb and if you know of another, tell me, and I will have to have him killed. Google me and I am the only one that comes up, google correcting you if you spell it wrong. Joining Equity was a synch with no need for me ever to become Tiernan S Douieb or Tiernan Daniels or any other name. It was also a joy at school when no one could really rhyme it with anything reasonably insulting. ‘Tiernan the er….Beernan?’ was never going to scar me for life. Unlike my friend Louis who was sadly, forever ‘Pooey’.

But then its starting to seem as though the downsides may outweight these few minor name wonders. Yesterday’s tweets reminded me of supporting Jim Jeffries on tour whereby afterwards several members of the crowd would come up to me and ask what my name was so they could find me online. I would explain, there would be an awkward moment of confusion, some blank stares, an attempt at saying ‘Timmy what what?’ and then they’d leave. Part of me cant help but think that if I was called ‘Timmy What What’ at least I’d have a shedload more fans on my facebook fanpage. People would leave a gig and be able to tell others that they’ve seem ‘Timmy What What’ live and that he was great and several hip-hop fans who listened to Noreaga in the early noughties will accidentally come across his comedy when googling lyrics. Maybe.

I asked Twitter yesterday for some suggestions of what to change my name to should I decide to do so and the results were immense. I can only assume that when or if these tweeps have children they will have the best names ever. Some of my faves include:

Tim Doo

T-Mun Dobjew

Turn and Do Dub

Bruce Drinkwater (Rufus’s suggestion. There is already one of these on facebook so I think he’s cheated)

Slagathor Hornswaggle

Tinchy Doowap

Seven vowels, six consonants

Max Thunderskull

Shelby Tenpenny

Terry Douieb

Turban Beershed

Mr Fat Tuesday

Walalallalalalalal Spoon

All great suggestions and I was tempted to use all of them in a huge publicity stunt for man with the longest most ridiculous name ever. However the winner (for it was a competition of sorts) was @amybumps with ‘Teary Dubstep’. Its the sort of name that requires me to wear a flourescent truckers cap, high top sneakers and hang out with Dizzie Rascal. I like this and may well adopt it to start anew hoping the world will forever chant my name to a electro reggae beat or something. Thing is, it did cost a lot for my entry in the fringe brochure and my passport is still valid till 2017 so I may leave it a while. Till then, I should really get busy buying timandooweb.com, tinmandibjab.com and all other variations…..

Monkeys vs Robots

Its amazing how computers can ruin a creative gusto. This here is attempt number 6 to write this blog without it crashing (I am using google chrome now geek fans) and that only followed attempt number 8 to finally log in. By the time I’ve reached this point of typery there is very little but a luddite rage to fill my Saturday musings. I can honestly truly understand everything Zach De La Rocha has ever shouted about right now and part of me wonders how much it would cost to ask him to come round with a baseball bat and just smash the shit out of various bits of technology in the house while we sing along to Evil Empire. It would be a costly process all round but somehow I’m sure it would make me feel a whole lot better about thwarting the Matrix and Borg’s tries to stem human imagination.

 

I’m fairly sure that is what’s happening. Since a journey last night with Rob Heeney who explained Rufus Hound’s ‘monkeys and robots’ theory which follows the basis of humans giving robots too much power and reliance leaving us as merely shelf stacking monkeys (which I have to say, is a very impressive type of monkey. I for one, have never seen a capuchin stack more than itself as it falls off a branch), I have been thinking about my need for computers an awful lot in absence of my beloved macbook. Nat has lost her phone and without an ability to call her today I’ve had an odd panic wondering where my flatmate is despite no need whatsoever to know. Add to that my concious noting that I haven’t tweeted much this week, my new addiction to Soundcloud, and my need to drive to my gigs this weekend and suddenly its become obvious that my entire weekend relies on them robots of some sort.

 

Thing is, I can’t work out how to stop this from happening without my life becoming increasingly more difficult. Surely we built machines to do things we can’t, so if I got rid of it all, I’d be a good amount more useless. Getting to my gigs would either take very advanced planning and hiking or the theft of a horse. Contacting people would need a lot of tin cans and a huge amount of string, that would no doubt be ruined by overactive cats along the way. Or I’d have to train carrier pigeons, who would no doubt be ruined by overactive cats along the way. Then there arrives the problem that unless I hum or sing badly then there is nowhere about my person I can play music from. Except sometimes my bum. Tee hee. That’s the most childish thing I’ve ever written in this blog ever. Tee hee hee.

 

So I hope this isn’t me giving in and bowing to technology as I hate knowing I’m quite so reliant on it as while Monkeys vs Robots sounds like a film that needs to be made, robots would clearly win, no? I mean, lasers versus a hairy hand throwing poo? Lasers win surely? Its like the pirates vs ninjas battle where clearly ninjas would win every time due to the fact they were trained to kill yet pirates often only have one eye. People fantasise about these amazing wars yet really haven’t thought it through. Ninja Monkeys vs Pirate Robots however, is a whole different game. In fact I’m going to go write that out on slate right now…

Some Relief

Twitter is swamped with Comic Relief pledges today and all across the UK people are doing silly things in the name of charity. Even the bank clerk at the desk today was wearing an Arsenal tshirt instead of the usual smart dress. At least I assume she was doing that for Comic Relief. Otherwise standards have seriously dropped. Either way it didn’t seem to help her deal with the loony man who’s sister was on Dragon’s Den and insisted on telling us where its difficult to get Halal meat thanks to all the ‘bloody Arabs’. I swiftly left. Anyway, in amongst all this charity goodness, I am doing a normal gig tonight. For money. Do I feel guilty? A bit. I haven’t really done much for Comic Relief ever in my life. Today I’ve text donated a fiver and on Wednesday with my croaky voice I recorded some donation pleas for Radio 3′s Red Nose Day airings. They originally asked me to do six of them, but after I rasped my way through the first one , they then decided I should do only three. I then did another one and they told me we were all done and I left, sniffling my way through Western House.

But other than that I haven’t really done anything. I don’t want to be a cynic as I’m sure Comic Relief does loads and loads for people around the world, but part of me sat at TV centre yesterday, watching as a large poster of Jack Whitehall was being plastered to the outside walls, wondering just why they need to go so over the top with everything. Let’s Dance, for example, must cost a shedload to produce. While I don’t discredit any of the acts that do it, as it all seems like a lot of fun, but I wonder how much money could be given to the charity if the cameras weren’t hired, lighting turned off etc etc. Fair play if its all done at a loss, but sometimes I just question why people need so much encouragement to help others. Do we always need a plethora of celebrities to say ‘stop children starving’? Does anyone ever need Chris Moyles on air for any length of time let alone 52 hours? I suppose its just a sad indictment of society rather than anything else.

Still, I feel I should probably contribute more. I have decided via Twitter that I will do various tasks if others donate. So far I’ve said that I’m meant to be in Bournemouth tonight with Josh Widdicombe and Roisin Conaty, but if someone donates over £2k then I will drive us to their town instead. No response. I will now state that if you donate £3k I will leave either Josh or Roisin at the 7th service station we pass, with no hope of ever getting to the gig on time. Get donating people, and by ruining a gig for people in Bournemouth you could be helping others around the world. Hmm. This seems slightly detrimental doesn’t it? Ok. Maybe you should just donate what you like to who you like when you like. Or perhaps give an actual comic ‘relief’ and send me all your savings? If you like I’ll then send you a letter every year telling you exactly what your money has been used for and how I’m doing. Plan?

Alternatively donate some dosh to Red Nose Day. I did it by text because I’m super lazy. I understand you can just text GIVE to 70011 to give a quid, 70005 for a fiver and 70010 for a tenner. Or turn on radio 3 and wait for me to tell you do it whilst seemingly gargling gravel.