Left Wing Comedy and the BBC

The other night I was listening to BBC Radio 4's comedy Podcast Friday Night Comedy, specifically The Now Show (because I am a middle aged man, apparently). For those of you who don't know Friday Night Comedy is a weekly podcast which alternates between series' of The Now Show (hosted primarily by Hugh Dennis and Steve Punt but frequently featuring Jon Holmes (whom I will be addressing in a moment), Mitch Benn, and a whole host of other comics),  and The News Quiz (hosted by Sandi Toksvig and frequently featuring Susan Calman, Jeremy Hardy (again, more on him later), Andy Hamiliton etc etc the list goes on). Both shows are satires of the weeks news, one in the form of a quiz, the other in a series of segments (stand up, song, sketches etc).

Last week, in Jon Holmes' section, he addressed complaint which many people have with the BBC - it is too left wing. Now, this is problematic for the BBC who are meant to be a non-biased broadcasting institution. Having an partisan take on social, political and economic news stories is very much not in their job description. However, in my opinion for the most part I believe that the BBC does this very well, and in its serious news style programmes (ie, BBC Breakfast, various news programmes, and The One Show) it walks the line between entertainment and reporting very carefully. The Friday Night Comedy shows are not serious news broadcasting shows. Their sole objective is to entertain through mockery and satire. Firstly, I think many of these complaints have arisen because there is a Conservative (right wing) political party in government at the moment, so therefore there is a lot of anti-conservative jokes appearing on these shows. However, when Labour (traditionally left wing) were in government, an equal number of anti-Labour jokes were made. Therefore, I believe it is less about the BBC's political stance, and more about the requirements needed for the show.

However, I think it goes even deeper than this. In the criticism, it was especially picked up that Jeremy Hardy is a very regularly featured comic. He is also rather left wing (as Jon Holmes put it he tends to wear his heart on his sleeve, in particular his left sleeve) and isn't afraid to voice his (very funny in my opinion) views. When I actually sat down to think about it I couldn't really think of any out and out right wing comics who I found funny. This got me asking a question: are the BBC putting on left wing comics because their perpetuating a political stance, or because they are trying to provide the best entertainment? Personally I think it's the later.

Comedy works at its best when you are mocking the system that we live in, when you are picking out something from society and saying 'look, this is wrong, it's funny, but we should also probably change it'. Right wing comics never portray that message. In right wing comedy all you tend to get is mockery of left wing 'utopian' ideas: unattainable dreams that can never be realised. What are these 'unattainable dreams'? Well, they tend to be the desire for equality in society, not only in a monetary sense between rich and poor, but also between men and women, black and white, lgbtq, the list goes on. Left wing comedy mocks the people in power, right wing comedy mocks the victim. I don't know about you, but I don't think that mocking the people who are worse off in society is a very funny thing to do.

Let me know if you know any right wing comics who don't do this, if there are even any right wing comics at all (I'm seriously struggling to think of any, other than Jeremy Clarkson). Tell me if you agree with me, or if you have the same issues in your country.

Oh, and give Friday Night Comedy a listen. It's really rather good. 

http://www.bbc.co.uk/podcasts/series/fricomedy

Best Wishes!

xx

Bet Down, Shine Bright

Yesterday at CWS we studied OULIPO poetry (a French movement in which you write with constraints). So, we were each given a phrase and were challenged to write a poem using only letters found in said phrase. Mine was 'Bet Down, Shine Bright' (which I quite like as a little phrase and might to some more work surrounding it). I was quite proud with mine, so I thought I'd share.

Bet Down, Shine Bright

Hit the thing with the ring so it sings;
Now hide.
Tie the tie in a bow then sigh.
Show the bone to the dog,
Show the hog how to sing.
Ding.
The dog shit,
Hit a nit with a net and neigh.
The dog downs egg-nog
Then snogs the hog.
They sit on the bed with high tog.
Now sing!

It is night and the end is nigh.

Write your own! Pick a random phrase of a website and see what you can do with it! It's a lot of fun!

I promise I'll write about finding a house soon, got three essays due in at the moment and another couple of hundered pages of reading to do by Monday, so I'm going to get on that first!

Best Wishes!

xx

Why do we study?

As a student in her second semester of uni, I've been thinking about this quite a lot. Why am I here, what worth does this have, all that kind of stuff. The scary questions, if you will. The days when a university degree meant you'd get a well paid job are long gone. Even the days when you'd be more likely to get a job graduating with a first from a reputable uni are fading fast. So, that kind of the begs the question: in a world obsessed with the acquisition of wealth, why am I paying in excess of £9,000 for my university degree.

Maybe it's because I want to postpone reality for a little bit longer? It's easy to be a student - not in the sense that the work load is easy, by any means, but in the sense that I get given money from the government to live on. I'm not expected to pay my way just yet, or to have a full time job. I don't have to worry about money problems - or at least not to the extent that "grown-ups" (and I use the term to mean adults who are not in full-time education) do. I live a relatively comfortable life - nothing is expected of me. This is very plausible.

Maybe it's because it's what I think I'm meant to do. All my life I've been told to go to uni and get a degree. That surely must have had an effect on me! But, I don't think this is the case with me. I am the first person in my family to go to uni (well, my dad got a degree with open university, but it's not exactly the same thing). I think in my parents eyes, this means I am still a child. They went straight into the world of work - they had far more responsibility at my age than I do now. But maybe they didn't - maybe it's just a different kind of responsibility?

The most likely answer I think, is a love of learning. I really enjoyed school. I know, it's strange, but I did. And I think to succeed at uni you need to enjoy learning - even if you didn't enjoy all of school, then you need to have enjoyed whatever it is you're studying. Me? I loved literature. I love sitting down and reading and for that to be an ok, worthwhile and encouraged thing. I love that I can sit and type this, and that this can be considered helpful for my degree. I enjoy lugging books around with me, seeing their beautiful spines lined up on my bookshelf, ready to be broken.

Ultimately, there's no real answer to this question. it's probably a bit of everything. But it's interesting to think about.

Best Wishes,

xx

The Art of Fielding Review (SPOILERS)

 Basically this book will make you feel all of the things. As John Green once wrote “Sometimes, you read a book and it fills you with this weird evangelical zeal, and you become convinced that the shattered world will never be put back together unless and until all living humans read the book.” That's how I feel about this book.



SPOILERS FROM HERE

This book was beautiful. From the first five pages I had fallen in love with all of the characters. Henry is a well rounded character, carefuly crafted so the reader likes him despite the fact he's good at something and despite his mistakes he makes (mainly having a realtionship with his best friends girlfriend - I WARNED YOU ABOUT THE SPOILERS IT'S YOUR OWN DAMN FAULT). Equally Mike is the kind of guy you'd love to be mates with, he sticks up for what he belives him - even if it's at the expense of himself. The realtionship between Owen and Affenlight is believable - despite the fact that these are the two most two dimensional of the main characters (Owen is 'only gay' and Affenlight is 'only the handsome older professor' - although they do have other characteristics too). The reader pities Pella, once again despite her flaws and mistakes (the realationship with Henry).

I don't have much to say about the plot. I enjoyed it, it was interesting throughout the whole of the 500 or so pages, but I don't think it had a specific message. More like multiple messages, depending on which character you most identified with. Ultimately this was a book driven by its characters and characterisation, which is no bad thing.

I particularly liked the characterisation of Pella. She was a female character who had issues other than her physical appearance. She had qualities other than that of a sex object - when she had sex it was for her not for a guy. She is rebellious and independant and fiesty. I liked that.

So, yeah. Good book.

Rating: 5 stars

TTFN xx

Profundity at Music Gigs

Last night I went to see the incredible Frank Turner. If you don’t know who he is, then give a couple of his songs a listen straight away! It was one of the best gigs I’ve ever been to in my life, for several reasons.

Firstly, Frank himself. All his songs are very emotive – they’re more than just wishy-washy love songs. They are intended to be heard, to be consumed and to be sung along to. They are war cries and drinking songs. A lot of his music is politically motivated (I did my A level English Language coursework on his lyrics) and that, combined with his performance creates a very strong sense of collective identity. Nearing the end of his gig (or even during the encore) Frank made a small speech on this point. I didn’t record this and I didn’t write it down, but it has stuck with me. He was thanking us for being there to support him and he made the point about how beautiful a music gig is. He basically said “You come here and you leave everything else at the door. You put aside your differences, of class, of religious beliefs, of political beliefs and you come together as a collective. As one.  As a community of people who just want to listen to some music, to dance, to clap to sing and have a fucking good time. And I thank you for that” (note: this has been paraphrased slightly but this was the gist of it). That really struck a chord with me, how a couple of thousand strangers could all come together, united by one thing. And there wasn’t any hatred that night. There wasn’t any fear. It was just about sharing a beautiful experience with friends. Music gigs really are beautiful.

Secondly, the support. The first support band were ok, as far as supports go they were even pretty good. Not sure I’d pay to see them, but I wouldn’t switch stations on the radio and I might even check them out on line (Jim Lockey and the Solemn Sun – although I didn’t remember that from the night, I just looked them up through Frank’s website). The second support act was INCREDIBLE however – although not for the reasons you might expect.

He played traditional, old American-Woody-Guthrie-style acoustic music – and anyone who’s heard Woody will know that’s not exactly pretty or dancey. What it is, though, is powerful. It’s strong and emotive and it tells a story. Tim Barry was probably one of the most sincerely humble support acts I’ve ever seen. He didn’t just say “thanks to Frank for having me” but he told us how much he admired and respected Frank, how much of an amazing performer he thought it was. He said how he was honoured to support him and was honoured to be playing for us and that we’re standing around listening to his stuff. And that in itself was deeply touching. He also said one of the most profound things I’ve ever heard at a music gig (and I wrote this down on the back of my hand when he said it):

“I’m not afraid of dying; I’m afraid of not living”

I thought that was a beautiful sentiment. It summed up perfectly the message of the tour – it was called the “Last Minutes and Lost Evenings” tour which is taken from a line of Frank’s song “I Knew Prufrock Before He Got Famous” which ends with:

“Life is about love, last minutes and lost evenings, about fire in our belly’s and about furtive little feelings, and the aching amplitudes that set our needles all a-flickering and help us to remember that the only things that’s left to do is live. After all of the loving and the loosing, for the heroes and the pioneers’ the only thing that’s left to do is get another round in at the bar!”

And isn’t that a perfect little sentiment.

Anyway, all of that got me thinking how ridiculous it is to spend your whole life worrying. It reminded me a lot of the view that is expressed by Margo Roth Spiegelman, a character in John Green’s novel “Paper Towns”. She see’s how vapid the world is, she see’s its faults, how “life has become the future”, and how wrong that is. Now I don’t 100% agree with her view – I think you’ve got to think about the future a little bit. But I do mostly agree with Tim Barry.

It’s ok to be afraid of dying, so long as you’re not afraid of living.

TTNF xx

Links: http://frank-turner.com/  - Frank Turner

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c21SfaAwBw0  - I Knew Prufrock Before He Got Famous

Currently Reading: The Old Curiosity Shop by Charles Dickens

Shades of Grey by Jasper Fforde

The Art Of Writing Fiction by Andrew Cowan

An Apology, A Memory and A Poem

Hey gang, it's been far too long and I have no excuses!!

Anyone who followed the link in my last post will know that I have miserably failed at NaNoWriMo this year. It's not that I didn't have enough time, or that I couldn't think about what to write (I actually had a semi decent plot arc for Toby and friends). Truth be told I was just lazy. I'd forgotten how time consuming it was to write NaNo, how mentally and emotionally draining it was, how much sacrifice had to go into it, and when it came down to it I prioritised my social life (and to a certain (more acceptable extent, Uni work) over NaNo. I don't necessarily think that's a crime, but I am somewhat disappointed that I couldn't see it through - for Toby's sake as much as my own self pride etc.

Anyway, this post wasn't going to be long or rambling, but rather a memory.

I just spent the last five or so minutes battling with a Parker Pen - trying to release it from its packaging, to be precise - and all the time I kept wondering: "Why do these pens need to be vacuum-packed in plastic! It makes this so difficult! Ow, my hand!!"

Then I remembered my childhood, when I used to receive "Barbie" dolls as presents. One of the most fun parts of receiving the Barbe doll wasn't the clothes you could dress her up in, or if you could cut her hair or whatever, but the act of opening the packaging. Barbie came in a box - almost like a shoe box. Firstly you had to remove Barbie and her background from the box. Barbie was attached to her background by wire ties, and I would laboriously unwind each tie, carefully straighting it out in order to remove it without damaging the background. Them, much like the Parker Pen, I had to  carefully remove the clothing and accessories from the vacuum-packed plastic containers. I would do this delicately, careful not to damage the precious items. I'd then lay out everything, and begin to play. Now, this might sound somewhat arduous for a 4, 5, 6, 7 year old girl, but I loved it. It just hit me, at 18, that the magic had vanished from opening a package. And that made me sad.

In other, less depressing news, I have taken to performing my poetry. I know. Considering that I only really started writing poetry in September, that's a bit of a risky move. But it seems to have gone ok so far. One of my poems (about rape) appears to go down really well when I perform it, but I think I'll post that another time, as I enjoy discussions around rape culture in our society. I say "enjoy", I really mean that I don't think it gets discussed enough - it tends to get hidden away when it should be fore fronted for all its issues.

This poem began as a song, but turned into a beat poem. It's called:

 The Girl In The Corner Looking Nervous

She’s sipping spirits from a shot glass,

Praying the scummy boys won’t touch her arse

But, with a skirt down to her knees,

She’s not showing much arse to squeeze.

And she’s only got subtle make-up on,

Wondering how you can be comfy in a lacy thong.

She hasn’t got up to dance;

She thinks you’ve got to wait to be asked.

 

The decadence of the scene perturbs her;

The hedonists and perverts

Clamour all around and make her nervous,

The boys and girls offering service.

She doesn’t like the push and shove at the bar

Would much rather be relaxing in some fancy spa.

She’s wearing perfume by Chanel

As if anyone here could tell!

 

She doesn’t approve of promiscuity,

Although that might change after a drink or three,

But she won’t cause she’s counting her units

And she doesn’t approve of the music.

She thinks all her peers are disgusting

With all their making out and thrusting,

So she just stares at the debauchery with her doe eyes

Sat alone in the corner for the whole night.

 

And her tan’s not fake it’s from St. Tropez.

And she’s knows just what they say:

“You’re far too prim to be in here love,

Why don’t you take off those white gloves?

Take some bobby pins out of your up do,

Show the other girls how you can move!

I’m not saying you’ve gotta get down and dirty,

But it’s wouldn’t hurt just to be a little flirty,

And you never know you  might quite like it

If only you had the balls to try it.”

 

Hopefully I'll start posting more frequently again!

TTFN! xx


Currently Reading: The Old Curiousity Shop by Charles Dickens
Shades of Grey by Jasper Fforde
The Art of Writing Fiction by Andrew Cowan

Procrastination and Poetry

It's amazing the lengths I will go to procrastinate. This right here is a prime example of my procrastination. Right now I should be either writing an essay that's due in tomorrow, or reading a text (as in a piece of literature not a phoney-type-text) in preparation for Thursday, or (most importantly) considering the questions set out in yesterdays lecture for today's seminar (yikes). But, nevertheless, procrastinate I shall, and if I must procrastinate then what better place to do it than in front of you, the fine people of the internet. (By the by, if you are reading this, drop me a comment to say hi or what not. It'd be lovely to hear from you - particularly if you are one of the people who are visiting this little blog from the Netherlands or Turkey (as Google tells me you are)).

Anyway. Procrastination. Yes.

(As an aside, there is something slightly ironic about the fact that I had to put myself back to track to talk about procrastination, of all things...)

Yesterday I bought a book for my Creative Writing course called "The Art Of Writing Fiction" by Andrew Cowan. Whilst procrastinating from reading "The Pilgrims Progress", which continues to be exceedingly dull, I began to flick through it's pages. Exercise two caught my eye. It goes pretty much as follows:

Imagine you are sitting at your work space ready to write, what things do you to before actually putting pen to paper or fingers to keys? Each activity is worth certain points.
Fiddling (straighting sheets of paper etc): 1 point each
Almost-work-related-distractions (tidying the folders on your computer): 2 points each
Stalling (tidying your room, making coffee etc): 3 points each
Dreaming (more than ten minutes out of a window, more than five with head on desk): 3 points each
Skiving (writing emails, making phone calls etc): 5 points each
Absconding (gardening, decorating etc): 10 points each

0-10: Completely abnormal, relax.
11-20: A necessary amount, but beware of relapse.
21-30: Perhaps these things should have been done earlier...
31+: Completely abnormal, worry.

Tallying up my points I found I was in the 21-30 category... so not too bad but room for improvement. However, it was an interesting exercise to perform, being self-analytical of things you normally wouldn't notice. It also made me consider how procrastination can sometimes be a very helpful thing, how it can let you get round to those jobs you've been putting off for months or allow you to open your mind to something creative that you wouldn't normally do- which could very well be the inspiration for a new venture.

Speaking of which (classy little segue, I know) I was at my Creative Writing Societies (CWS) first open mic night Monday last week. It was fascinating and totally inspirational. Now, I'm not much of a poet, but since then I've written two pieces, both of which I might perform tonight at their Extra Virgin open mic. Scary stuff. One of the pieces is about rape culture, and I want to discuss it in more depth, so I might post that another day, but this piece I'm happy to post now. As I said it was inspired by the showcase, and when walking home from that the fella said "I can imagine you up there reading poetry about pretty boys". This was the result:

My (Ex)Boyfriend’s Haircut

Pretty Boy;

Floppy Hair.

Across the room,

I stop, he stares.

Feel his eyes
Caress my skin.
Catch an eye;
A cheeky grin.

Skinny jeans

Sit low on hips
Eyebrows raised
He bites a lip

Feel the blush

Rise in my cheeks.
Try to pluck
The courage to speak.

He saunters over

Confident.
Offers a drink,
A proper gent.

One drink turns

To two, then three.
Place my hand
Upon his knee.

Four months I leave it

Resting there.
Then Pretty Boy
Cuts his hair.

Average Boy;
Shaven head.
Think I’ll find
A Pretty Boy instead.



So there you have it. My first "creative writing" output on the internet. Although, as we discussed in my first Creative Writing Workshop, was even constitutes as "Creative Writing"?

By the by, as much as I would love to I can't really discuss the content of either of my Creative Writing classes on here. It's a "sacred space" and all that. Y'know. Gutting. But I am LOVING them with all my heart and soul, despite it being early days yet and all that.

TTFN! xx

Currently Reading: The Pilgrims Progress (Oxford World Edition) by John Bunyan
Shades of Grey by Jasper Fforde
The Art of Writing Fiction by Andrew Cowan