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| Self-hating comic |
| 11.27.03 (6:15 pm) [edit] |
|
Went to a comedy try-out night last night to watch a friend do one of her very first gigs. (She kicked arse, by the way.) There was one guy, an American, who did a whole routine apologising for his nationality. It included many Moore-onic observations about Seppolian self-righteousness, brutality, dumbness, etc. His act revealed an almost total ignorance of what was really happening. One gag implied that the Iraqi resistance to the Americans was a sort of "people's movement" of justifiably angry locals. But as any remotely informed person knows, these men are the remnants of Saddam's people-shredding, baby-murdering regime, plus a few blow-ins (or should I say blow-ups?) from Islamofascist terrorist groups (quite probably including al-Qaeda) in neighbouring countries - the very people the fluffy wuffies say Saddam had absolutely no link with in the first place. All throughout his routine there was not one mention (let alone condemnation) of Saddam's brutality, or the Taliban's, or September 11, or the carnage in Bali, or Turkey, etc. Predictably the very fluff-heavy audience loved this Bush-bashing. (Hey, I remember when that term described driving through scrub in a landrover! But that's another matter...) He got big yucks and riotous applause throughout his act, especially at the end. I half-expected them to give him a standing ovation. But of course, they were too relaxed and comfortable to indulge in such a fusty ritual. Hoots and hollers would suffice. When he left the stage he was personally congratulated by just about every professional poof and dogmatic dyke there. I couldn't help but think these were the very people who would be "first up against the wall when the (Islamofascist) revolution comes"; up against a wall - the women with their faces burned by acid - which would subsequently be torn down upon them. (And if they were to survive, they would probably be finished off by a crowd of rock-throwers - a new variation on "getting stoned" that they might not find so pleasurable.) Added to this was the fact that this all occurred at an RSL club, supposedly one of the last bastions of right-wing, conservative, homophobic bigotry in Australia. The many layers of irony would've done yer head in if you'd pondered 'em too long. I thought, this is really bloody sad: A self-loathing American playing to a gallery of self-loathing queers. But then I reconsidered: Maybe loathing had nothing to do with it. It was more about ignorance and stupidity. These poor people's brains have just been too fried by dope, dogma and eccies for them to realise just how far down Bullshit Road they have travelled. Whatever. The experience was definitely creepy as all get out. (Oh, and he also railed agains the Free Trade Agreement, implying that this was the kind of culture we should protect and preserve at taxpayer's expense... Gawd.) Still, I'll give him credit where credit is due: He was a slick and confident performer, and he'd really pared his routine back to just lead-ups and punchlines. So, good on him for that. |
| 0 Comments |
