My Comedy Apprenticeship
Hot damn. My apprenticeship in comedy started last night. I’m ready to quit working and throw my shit onto the stage. You can call me a dreamer, but thats better than being asleep, eyes wide open at an office desk for 8 hours a day. As good as the people are at work, if you have to justify why you should be in corporate servitude all your life, then you’re nothing but a zombie who deserves a lifetime of mortgage repayments and consuming.
Comedy is what gives me definition. I feel my thoughts, emotions and character strengthen when I look at what I’ve written on the pages. I am my own man and no one else can write for me. It’s a source of power.
Through out life, I can safely say I’ve never really belonged to any social group. I’ve tried, and failed. Never belonged to the nerds, the cool kids, the arseholes, the thugs, the drug dealers, the ravers, the bodybuilders, the charitable, the religious, the professional, the conspiracy theorists. Not. One. Group. And I never have to try that out again. The lone wolf carves his own niche.
I simply don’t care if I can’t eat, look unkempt, live in a shoebox and cannot hold a stable relationship with anyone – man, woman or child…
I just wanna live. It’s not that fucking Good Charlotte song, that’s my mantra.
Spending a night in April to conduct a meeting with the ferocious Kieran Butler, I turned from being focused on business to a field trip in Melbourne’s comedy.
First line up at the Bella Union Hall was Andrew O’Neil. Wow. Let me give you an introduction. A self admitted, cross dressing, heavy metal loving English comedian who looks more at home at a Cannibal Corpse concert than up on stage. Hard to believe he is 31 years old when he looks to be treading the mid 20s waters.
Never mind the bollocks, his show is raw. He’s angry. He’s musical no for reason other than to be musical. Andrew’s stage presence looks great, floating about the stage and making use of it. The reason why I liked his show, other than being hilarious was the fact that he comes across as a person who doesn’t give a fuck and isn’t scared by the consequences. He looks like he’s 50 kilos soaking wet with a backpack full of bricks but will ear bash you for being a fuckwit. This is what I want.
There is an alarming shortage of those traits in society. We’re all sheltered pussys who beat around the bush. THE BUSH MUST BE VIOLENTLY BURNED. Stop being politically correct, stop being bigoted, stop being you. Get inspired to shout out, get angry and fuck shit up. Assholes need to recognise their own stench.
Andrew O’Neil’s show finished with him orchestrating the crowd choir to sing a spirited Bohemian Rhapsody. A great way to end the show and definitely one of the best memories I’ve had this year.
Leaving the Bella Union Hall, a pit stop was in order at Lambs on Lygon St. Double meat goodness. Mmm mmm.
Walked and trammed it to Elizabeth St and came across a comedy club which looked like a rape dungeon. Saw a Scottish dude bomb, and an angry yobbo kill it. It was great fun sinking beers and enjoying other people’s work.
Long story short I’m hooked. We’re shooting short movies this weekend which will be great. I’m going to get my monies worth in this industry.
