The Trouble with Comedy Today, Jan 2019

The Trouble with Comedy Today, Jan 2019 ©

By

Michael Casey

They burst out laughing and walked away happy, Robin on Reception leant over and asked what did he say, what did he say. They repeated the joke, He half laughed, the thing with Comedy is the Timing. Or you just had to be there. Yes I’m talking about myself in my Hotel days.

Imagine I met one on one 100,000 people over the 3 years so I had 12 hours every working day to Practice, or repeat myself, or do my “act” as Aimee “unkindly” said. If you meet 100,000 people and say something witty then you will get the Timing right, or you may as well shoot yourself, or hide in the Concierge Room, as one nameless person did for 3 years.

But enough of the Donald Trumping, which could be rhythming   slang for something else. It depends which way your mind works and your Political affiliations as to how you react to that as well. It depends do you swing to the Left or swing to the Right, or do you go straight down the middle, you may not even swing at all. It depends on the cut of your jib, whatever that means. Wasn’t Jib Bush the governor or Florida?

American Politics is so confusing, and so very angry. I think after the next election they should finally get rid of the Electoral College. 4 years at University learning how to stuff envelopes and knock on doors, or is that something to do with Walmart bags with 10000dollars or so in. Its all so very American.

I was going to talk about Comedy, wasn’t he Jib Bush’s brother’s Vice President? Its so very hard to keep up to date with what’s going on over there, 5 hours time difference, or 8 to the funny people on the West Coast makes it difficult. At least an Egg on Instagram beat the Kardasians, the yolk was on them. My daughter said there was music too, so was a British Comedian, Ben Elton behind it perhaps, or one of my neighbours up the road, Frank Skinner?

British Comedy is the Best after all. All our best Comedians were at Oxford and Cambridge, Mr Bean was at Queens Oxford, as was my brother. John Cleese from Monty Phython was at Downing Cambridge as was another of my brothers. What does that make me? Jealous? No I’ve had a strange life, but it does make me appreciate Laughter more, believe me I am a Comedy (Humour) Writer after all.

Other Comedians in UK also went to Oxford and Cambridge, those jokers we call the Government, go google all of them. I actually grew up just 4 houses away from Theresa May’s friend from University, though he won’t remember me, apart from throwing snowballs at him after Midnight Mass at Christmas maybe in 1970.

So what made me talk about this today? Well I was going through the newspapers and up popped a piece about Comedy in Today’s world, it’s Jan 2019 now. It was in the Guardian, I clicked the MSN link and started to trawl though it. But it was too serious and a little boring for my tastes. A piece I read in the Observer on my phone about Trump and Nancy a serious Political piece was very good, though maybe Wishful Thinking in parts. As for the piece in the Guardian I gave up on, I won’t waste my Time on stuff that won’t feed my Spirit or Intellect, I don’t expect to be alive in 10 years time, so I’m being selfish with my reading time.

Now in the piece it was on about Political Correctness and how in the writer’s opinion People had to move with the times. I’m condensing what he said, go to today’s Guardian and read it in full for yourselves, I’m sure you’ve all got 50 years left in you.

Comedy is of it’s Time as is History. Windsor Davies from “It Ain’t half hot Mum” a hit comedy from 40 years ago he just died and the Memorial tv pieces were so PC it was saddening, you should realise everything is of its time as is HISTORY itself, so why remove statues etc, that is PC gone mad. The Pakistani girl, Malala Yousafzai who now lives in Birmingham who was shot in the head, well she was interviewed recently and what’s one of her favourite tv shows,

“Mind you Language” which was a comedy about a multicultural language class. She must have seen it on UTube as it’s from the 1970s I think. Now will she be condemned for watching such a tv show? I should add I taught in an Islamic school for a year, so I learnt a lot while I was there.

Why do people say “I shouldn’t laugh but” or “It’s not exactly correct but” If something is funny then it’s funny. Don’t analyse the joke. Humour is by it’s nature about differences, and if we cannot laugh at our differences then we cannot laugh at anything. We laugh at the “tragedy”of others. We see Mr Bean avoid walking into a lamppost, but then he falls down into a pub’s cellar. We all laugh, then he comes out holding a pint of Guinness, he sips it and has froth on his lips, but then the barman chases him. So he hands the pint to a little old lady who downs it in one and hands him the empty glass, then she points to show the barman which way the thief Mr Bean went.

Cartoons are much more violent as was early Charlie Chaplin, so do we condemn or ban Tom and Gerry? You can pick your own heroes and villains in Comedy. What can you laugh at and what can you not?

Is Religion totally off limits? Do you have to be a Priest or Rabbi before you are permitted to make Religious jokes, can only Teachers control their Pupils, or should they have a sight test? And on it goes.

What about me? Michael Casey the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham, the one in England. Can you call me Micky all the time, of say hey FATSO, you’re an old git with white hair, you’re kidding yourself saying its silver. You’re a poser in those shades, don’t you mean sun glasses you’re not in America, they wouldn’t let you in, you probably have rabies. You’re just a flasher showing your heart bypass scars online. Or do you talk so much BS you’re trying to get the sympathy vote by exposing your chest. And you should buy shares in a toilet paper factory, you and your Ckd.

Now I’ve bored you with a few examples about myself. So how far should you push the humour. Are we allowed to have Springtime for Hitler humour or is it not allowed because it’s in bad taste? I agree with Mel Brooks, tyrants must be mocked. So having a camp gay Hitler is perfect revenge for what he did to the Jews and everybody else. For younger readers go watch The Producers by Mel Brooks its online and was on tv again recently.

Humour is a weapon, as are words, and the Pen is Mightier than the Sword, You’re just a clapped out, worn out has been as I was once told. I’ve gone on to write 17 books over 1,420,000 Words, I also have 2 daughters who will amaze the world in the Future, even though realistically I’ll be dead and buried before they achieve their full potential.

So let’s all of us keep our sense of humour, stop looking for insults where none exist, let’s keep on laughing at ourselves. It’s through laughter we bond and survive the hard times. Nora no Knickers as a child did not become a Prostitute, she swore one day she’d have loads. So she founded a Lingerie company, and became a multimillionaire. Simon the Stutterer was picked on relentlessly, but Nora took him under her wing and they recited from the Newspaper every night. He became a newsreader with excellent diction, he also married Nora no Knickers.

We all can remember jokes, sometimes cruel jokes, but it’s all part of life. Hopefully we all meet our own Nora no Knickers, or a brother or sister, real or acquired who will laugh with us, and defend us if the jokes are too strong. Sticks and Stones can break your bones, but Names can Never Hurt you. Can we just get everything back in proportion otherwise we just become bland like a brick wall.

There was a man walking down the street, ok I’ll change it, you think I’m biased. So there was this woman walking down the street, is that more gender balanced? She was a Lesbian, she wasn’t but a woman walking down the street is not as funny as a man walking down the street. Men always play with their zips, and rearrange their crotch, I blame Michael Jackson myself. Ok so the woman was black, is that ok, as I want to be more inclusive.

Just from a sentence how many are offended? I’m trying to explain being offended, and if I use an example immediately people are offended. So, I cannot mention women as it’s sexist. I can’t say Gay or Lesbian because it’s homophobic. I cannot say black because that’s racist. I cannot mention Michael Jackson because he’ an icon, a dead icon, he would be about my age now. Perhaps we should just joke about robots, they are laughing at us, as they will have all the jobs, and we’ll all be unemployed.

I’m going to talk to my Undertaker now to Pre-Book my Funeral, now am I tempting Fate? Or am I forward thinking, or is it all morbid? Again you are all divided about this hypothetical idea, there is only one certain future for all of us, Death. So can we all just get off our high horses and LAUGH. The test of any Society is Laughter. I’m sure in North Korea they laugh all the time, even their tvs are handicapped so they cannot watch Korean tv from the South.

So everybody everywhere should ask themselves how much laughter am I getting? If your Snowflake attitudes, and your Political Correctness and your straightjacket of Religious beliefs, and any other Rules prevents you from Laughing then you will die a virgin Puritan. Life is for joining in, it is for a merging of ideas, you don’t have to believe in anything else, nobody is forcing you to abandon your Life. Don’t just be a security camera, watching, and observing but not joining in, a lump of metal on the wall.

Laugh and make love with laughter, and when the loving ends you still have the memories of laughter. Or would you just want to be on the sidelines of life, because Laughter is against your Principles.

pantomime

pantomime

Well my daughters are at the Panto, you can google it and maybe even find one online. Its a British tradition over the Winter/Christmas period.
I'm waiting for the pain killers to work then I may write more Lego segments. Though when or rather if I ever sit down to write all of Tears for a Butcher it will be better, what I've done these past couple of days is more like Film Pitch versions, the detail to be shaded in later. Or a Mueller statement about Trump.

Somebody in USA is reading the Chinese Translation of The Butcher The Bake and The Undertaker, Google is not perfect but I hope whoever is reading it does enjoy it. And in Indonesia somebody else is reading another piece. If its Ana who I bumped into when I was on FB years ago the a very big hello to her.

Now I have to go and  eat, but I may be back later, so check back in the next 10 hours, up to Midnight UK time is my normal bedtime, so I could have something new for you.

here's a bit of Chapter Two of Tears for a Butcher I wrote this 8 year ago

Michael Casey 29^th Jan 2011 Tears For A Butcher Chapter2

Tears For A Butcher  ©

Chapter 2

Old People’s Home  ©

Now an old people’s home is a thing of mercy and patience, the elderly go there to spend their final years, to find comfort and peace. A good home has caring staff who understand the elderly and their needs. Some old people never get any visitors, the staff are their family, or you may have one resident who has more visitors that all the rest of the residents combined. Whatever the case may be a home for the elderly is exactly that, a home with a capital H for HOME.

Now Percy’s occupation meant that he visited Old People’s Homes more than most, when the time came for the elderly to go to meet God it was Percy who collected the body and did the final duties for the deceased. The home owners used to coral the pensioners in the day room while Percy sneaked in to collect the bodies, it is an upsetting thing to know one of your number had gone to meet their maker, so Percy did his duty while trying not to upset anybody.

Now on this occasion at The Happy Valley Rest Home as Percy collected the body with Andy  he saw somebody at an upper window banging on the window, then the old woman pushed something out of the window. It was a note with a message scrawled in pencil on it. Percy was going to ignore it but something made him think twice so once he had placed the deceased in the back of the private ambulance he went back to collect the note.  Now this note was going to make waves, big waves and chance Percy’s life too.

When they got back to the street Percy sat in the office and put the paper on his desk. Sitting down he began to read it, the old lady said “help I’m starving and its so cold in here always, please help before you’ll be taking my body away.”

“What’s up pop?” asked Andy.

“Read it for yourself,” replied Percy as he turned the paper around on the desk.

“That’s not right, but what if she’s just a bit senile,” Andy replied.

“You could be right, but we need to find out the truth,” sighed Percy.

“Ok, pop, why don’t you go to the café to have a talk about it, I’ll start preparing the deceased,” said Andy.

“Good boy,” said Percy as he strode away to the café.

Percy repeated what he’d read on the note, Mark and Gillian were shocked, the elderly should be loved not starved and froze to death. George and Brownie arrived with the latest gossip, but hearing Percy’s news they were shocked.

“Bastards,” said George.

“Bastards,” said Brownie.

“Bastards,” said Gillian.

“Bastards,” repeated Mark.

“But what are we going to do?” asked Percy.

There was silence all around, then Brownie had an idea.

“Me and George are going undercover, I’ve seen it on tv, Esther Ranzen and Panorama  do it, so me and George will do it,” she whispered.

Percy looked shocked but she was determined so he was wise enough to say nothing.

“But we have to protect you while you are undercover, so  you’ll have mobile phones and we’ll ring you at regular intervals, or just text cos it’s quieter.” said Gillian.

“We can pretend to be window cleaners and we can slip you messages, and you can have a digital camera to get evidence,” added Patrick who had happened by.

“That’s a good idea,” replied Brownie.

They spend the morning discussing how George and Brownie would be spies like 007 James Bond, sandwiches were made and eaten, they had to try and think of everything. Once the camera was full of stills and movies they could drop it out of the window into the flower bed and if nobody was looking Patrick could throw a 2^nd camera back up to them, it would only take seconds. They did forget one thing despite all the planning. How would the get George and Brownie into the old people’s home in the first place.

“The Love of Money is the Root of All Evil,” quoted Percy his eyes lighting up. “Those people are only interested in one thing, MONEY. So if we turn up with a couple of senior citizens and 2 months fee for their care, in cash, then George and Brownie will be on the inside with no questions asked.”

“I always said you were clever,” smiled Brownie as she gave Percy a peck on the cheek.

“So who delivers the parcel?” asked Brownie

“Smiling Paul, of course. I know he’s a changed man since China entered his heart, but even he’d admit he still looks a bit mean” ventured Percy.

Smiling Paul thought it was a great joke and he’d bring Catherine along too, because she looked so young and beautiful, and with him looking so seedy he’d suit the part as an ungrateful son dumping his parents. Smiling Paul insisted on donating the money in readies, he thought it would all be great theatre. Catherine thought they should respect him more but Smiling Paul just kissed her in front of Percy then bending down on one knee he said “Will you marry me?”

Catherine was shocked, Chinese never kiss in public, then she burst into tears and got to her knees  besides Smiling Paul. “Of course I marry you, then we can have a harvest of children, you do want ½ half children?”

Smiling Paul began to cry now, it was all too much, a wife and children, if he believed in God he would have sung a hymn or he did not know what. Luckily God did believe in him, Smiling Paul was the Lucky One an urban legend who had won so much money but gave it all away to help the Chinese restaurant business of his friends. This legend was widespread in Shanghai and all of the rest of China.

But now the Lucky One was being rewarded with the greatest gift of all, LOVE. Percy smiled and walked away, he had tears in his eyes, God really did work in mysterious ways. Percy would have to get his poetry book out and read a few verses while this mood was upon him.  God is good, God is good.

To be ready for their undercover trip George and Brownie filled their suitcase, they were full of energy bars and bottles of Lucasade and  a teas made and bottled water. There were also several pairs of unisex long johns. The final thing were rape alarms, both of them had one hanging around their neck, if all else failed they were to pull the string and Hairy Amjit would bark and everybody would come running to the rescue. Everything seemed ready, George and Brownie had a final night in their own bed before “Operation Undercover”, then at 10am after a good breakfast their mission would begin.

“We are going to be acting, so don’t be upset at our behaviour,” explained Smiling Paul.

“It Ok luver,” replied Brownie.

In silence Smiling Paul drove to the Old People’s home, Smiling Paul was driving Jimmy’s golden car, it was all part of the plan. When they got there Smiling Paul and Catherine started snogging, George had to get the suitcases out of the boot himself. They were bloody heavy thanks to all of Brownie’s preparations. Brownie gave laser looks at Smiling Paul, she’d give him a good slap when this was all over. When they got to the doorstep Brownie rang the doorbell and gave George a peck on the cheek.

Smiling Paul and Catherine carried on snogging, to be honest it was not method acting, not they were going to be married they felt they should give each other their all. Two fat sisters opened the door of the home.

“What do you want,” said fattie no.1

“Yea, we’re busy watching Neighbours,”  said fattie no.2

At this point Smiling Paul dragged himself away from Catherine, blowing her kisses as he did so.

“You have old folks here,” asked Smiling Paul looking at his love in the car.

“Yea, read the bleeding sign,” said fattie no.1

“Here, you can have these two,” replied Smiling Paul as he reached for his wad.

Throwing a few thousand at the fatties, Smiling Paul  jogged to his car and carried on snogging.

The 2 fatties fought over the money, they just gestured at George and Brownie to follow them. That was their customer service, if they worked at proper place both would be sacked on the spot. George and Brownie struggled with the bags. The two fatties went back to their tv, shouting to George and Brownie they would be in room 3 upstairs.

Smiling Paul and Catherine resumed their snogging, lust will out. He floored the car, it was like a volcano about to erupt; so when he got home he hand braked turned and  parked the car. Then he and Catherine ran up the stairs. She was going to be married to a great man, The Lucky One, and he was all hers. The bed would have broke, only they didn’t get that far, they made love on the fur rug at the bottom of the bed. He was hers and she was his, Smiling Paul cried as they made love, he was so happy, he didn’t deserve her, she cried too, she did not deserve him. So they consoled each other, they climbed into the bed and consoled each other, until the bed broke. There was a lot of consolation to be had that day, and both gave it willingly, they wondered  how their kids would look. Totally Eastern or totally Western, or ½ half, genes are strange things. It is said that the writer Michael Casey wanted Eastern looking children, but they look Western but with fabulous hair. So Smiling Paul and Catherine just laughed and left it all up to God and genes, as they made love for the 5^th time.

Meanwhile George and Brownie had struggled upstairs only to see their room. The mattress was covered  by a torn and dirty duvet, it was disgusting. Brownie looked around there was one armchair with a spring hanging out and a very old rocking chair near the window. A wonky set of drawers were in the corner,  it had been painted white to hide how bad it was but  the paint was peeling off it.

“Right, you put the kettle on, I’ll sort out the bed,” ordered Brownie.

“Yes Sir,”  joked George.

When Brownie had replaced the duvet with one they had brought, they had tea, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Another fined mess you’ve gotten me into,” said George as he flapped his tie like Oliver Hardy.

“This place is a tip, and its so cold,” observed Brownie.

“What’re we going to do then?” wondered  George.

Brownie put down her tea and got into bed fully clothed.

“Seems like a good idea to me,” said George as he too got into bed.

So there they were in bed and it was only afternoon.

“Do you think we are like John and Yoko?” laughed Brownie.

“No we’re better than them,” replied George.  

So they joked and laughed and as it was a 15tog duvet they fell asleep. When they awoke they were too hot so they took their clothes off and went back to bed. Now was it the spirit of John and Yoko, or was it Smiling Paul  and Catherine’s lust dust being sprinkled on them nobody would ever know. But they decided that a platonic marriage was no long good enough. So starting slowly, ever so slowly, they renewed and remembered  how it was in their youth; memory is a great thing and once it is awakened it is  like a tidal wave. They made love just like John and Yoko did, only they were from Old Forge and Singing Anvil, but just as the hammer beats on the anvil keeping a steady rhythm, so did they, for a full 2 hours.

George and Brownie were a bit peckish so they decided to get dressed and go look downstairs, it must have been teatime by then, so they’d try the home’s tea. They were in for a shock when then went down, the fatties had been drinking Bailey’s so the supper was not ready, they were fat and snoring.

“Bloody useless,” said  Brownie.

“Worse than useless,” echoed George.

They went into the kitchento see what was there, Old Mother Hubbard was there, Brownie sighed.

“There’s a few left overs,” said George hopefully.

Brownie went and counted the residents, 7 including themselves.

“I hope you like omelette she explained.

So George chopped and diced everything in sight, his training in the Army Catering Corp came rushing back to him, then he threw six eggs in.

“We’ll all be farting all night,” joked Brownie trying to raise moral.

“But at least the farts will keep us warm,” observed George.

So the 7 residents had an omelette.

“That’s the best meal we’ve had in a month,” observed one.

“Them fat bitches just eat all the food themselves, they just give us rubbish,” added another.

“Well eat up fast before they wake up,” said George.

Smiling Paul and Catherine were a little tired but very happy, Catherine had heard stories about English people and Smiling Paul had heard stories about Chinese people, but now they knew everything about each other, in the Biblical way. Their love would be eternal, and Smiling Paul would give odds of 7/4  on she was pregnant, but she was happy, she had waited and she’d made him wait till today and now this was the climax, well several of them. Love had conquered all, and broken the bed into the bargain, but there would be children, Catherine was so happy as she lay there beside him, her head on his shoulder. In China she could only have one child, but here with her hero she could have as many or as few as she wanted. It was great, no Chairman Mao in the bedroom, just her and her hero, she was so happy so she rolled on top of him, six was her lucky number after all, and who was Smiling Paul to refuse. Six of the best, six of the very best.

 AUDIO of Chapter two here

Old People's Home 11th Nov 2018

Old People's Home 11th Nov 2018
Today 11th Nov 2018 would have been my dad's 97th Birthday
Here's a chapter from Tears for a Butcher
if ever I have time to finish it
If I had a legal secretary I could sit and dictate the sequel to The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker

TFAB Chapter2 old people's home

as it is I'll probably never finish the book, not unless I get the help of God  and two Policemen
 TFAB Chapter2 old people's home

10 Nov 2018 21:29:29