Doug Stanhope, O2 Academy, Glasgow. Friday 23rd September, 2022

Mr Stanhope (or Mr Stan Hope as the misguided residents of Bisbee occasionally refer to him) is the comedy legend you've probably never heard of. His material is dark, off-kilter and befitting a man of his ill disposition, a drunk who dabbles in whatever form of recreational drug is on offer (he's saving heroin for the end). 

You never know which Stanhope is going to show. I've seen him perform drunk, I've seen him perform jetlagged and I've seen him at the top of his game, firing on all cylinders. Tonight, he's high on edibles, claiming it's the first time he's performed a tour in this condition. This meant his comedic flow was often interrupted and he had to remind himself, Schizo-style, to return to his material, informing us this bit was meant to follow from a section he related earlier. It was still funny and the crowd kept themselves well behaved (no punch-ups tonight), with only the occasional unintelligible heckle. 

He went very dark tonight, finding my line when talking about how he had to put down his fourteen-year-old dog at the start of Covid (not because of the virus - the dog was riddled with cancer), yet he somehow turned it around, pulling out the funny as he always does. 

So while the show was uneven, it was still classic Stanhope. I will always make time to see him, no matter what measures God puts in place to cancel the show.

Thank you to Louise, Craig and Mark for saving me from having to walk to the end of the queue and for laughing at the jokes of the other old man in the room. 

The gig was rescheduled so many times, the ticket vendor gave up trying to reprint the tickets with the correct date. Thumbs up to Brown Paper Tickets for keeping the facility fee down to 75p. Ticket price £35.

 

Ed Gamble, "Electric", Pavilion Teatre, Glasgow. Sunday 18th September, 2022

"Tour extended due to huge demand". I wondered if this meant his bill from the utility supplier after he'd spent so long at home, unable to gig, during lockdown. It would have been apt for a tour called Electric. 

It wasn't. Apparently, he is very popular, particularly with young people (and I don't just mean in the 0-6 years age group).

This tour's origins began pre-Covid, in 2019, when he performed at Download, playing to his tribe, the metalheads, and them not being impressed until he drew blood. His material has moved on since then (he discusses finally getting married last year, having had to postpone the wedding three times due to the Pandemic) and covered the aftereffect of one of his jokes being retweeted by the CBeebies account; Gym Big Boys; parents fingering as foreplay to the conception of you; and the delights of the Travelodge all-you-can-eat buffet. A polished performance incorporating the audience work he put in at the start, even including a callback to the material of his support act, Ania Magliano, (she's half Polish, half Italian, all bisexual and gave us a fine twenty minutes before the interval). 

Twas a better night than the Fringe Rewind streams I'd been watching earlier on NextUp. Live comedy is best live. Thumbs up. (does that count as fingering?)

Ticket price £20.

 

Al Murray - The Pub Landlord, "Gig For Victory", King's Theatre, Glasgow. Sunday 11th September, 2022

Today, as I wandered into Aldi's, a toddler, in a shopping cart, pointed to me and said, "You're fat". I didn't know how to respond (except to buy more sweets - not for him, the cheeky bastard, although he did have parents). I should have replied, "And you shit your pants" but being a potty mouth to a child is frowned upon in polite society. 

That rule doesn't apply to Al Murray. He can say anything in character to his audience. 

Cut to eight hours later. Al Murray took to the King's Theatre stage, praising us all for being survivors, thanking us for waiting two and a half years to see his four-time, rescheduled show. He worked the crowd for a full forty minutes as The Pub Landlord before we get any sniff of prepared material. Picking mainly on the front two rows, he elicits their names, the names of their children, the status of their relationships and what jobs they perform, making quips every time with lightning-quick speed. This interaction also serves as fuel for his cocktail of callbacks, thrown in at every opportunity. It's a celebration of spontaneous humour and very funny, whether it involves throwing packets of crisps at the man he identified as having Type 2 diabetes, throwing shade at the students for being too woke or getting us all to thump our chests and repeat the word, Faaamily, whenever someone revealed they had children, picking on one young man in a white T-shirt to stand up and say it alone, all because his shirt had a French word on it. 

Sitting on my left was an older gentleman. If I could paint a picture of him for you... I'd be an artist and could insert image instead of needing to use words. He was a larger man with a grey beard and he was with his friend. They both had two tumblers of drinks and he kept his at his feet. This meant he had to sit with his legs splayed apart encroaching on my space. Every time he reached over his stomach, he bumped my leg. I started imagining he had some sort of scrotal inflammation that necessitated his open posture, possibly an STI that left him with elephant-sized testicles and a rotting trunk. I edged to my right but there was no escaping him. His aftershave was so pungent (possibly to mask the putrid stench of his decaying genitals), it burned my throat. I feared I would need to down one of his drinks or start coughing but then wondered if the clear liquid was actually stored between his legs so he could use it as a sterilisation dip for his cock. 

Bizarrely, the gentleman left at the start of the second half as the lights went down and didn't come back, though his friend remained. Suddenly, I had all the space I wanted. I could splay my legs wide apart. Which then worried me. Had he given me his STI? Would I be able to drive home? How would I explain my enlarged testicular condition to my wife? ("I was at Al Murray, honestly")

I closed my legs and enjoyed the second half.

Here, Al explained how we are all the subjects of a history book, we just don't know if we're in the beginning, the middle or the end, when 'we're fucked'. He also compared the sacrifices people made during their history - the war - with those we had to make during Covid - furlough, big tellies and watching Tiger King. 

He also described how you can boil every film down to one thing - you can't always get what you want. He took many examples from the audience to prove it, eg. Braveheart - Mel Gibson wanted to make a historically accurate epic - "you can't always get what you want".

He closed the show with a sing-song, "There's nothing rhymes with Covid". 

He is such a good live performer. Highly recommended.

And I'm still fat.

Dr Jordan B. Peterson: "Beyond Order", SEC Armadillo, Glasgow. Tuesday 6th September, 2022

I was unsure about attending this event. Ticket prices were not cheap  (I paid £63.65 for a middling Front Circle seat, which did not include a copy of the book) but he is a serious speaker whose thinking is deep and challenging. I've always found him fascinating and articulate when he's been on news items and discussion programmes, particularly when speaking about changes in society and about Offence.  

Eventually, curiosity won me over. For one thing, it was on a Tuesday, my day off, plus I wanted to know what kind of social freaks would attend (while acknowledging the irony that I, a middle-aged, white male, was going on my own).

Would Woke groups protest the event? Would there be heckling from opponents of his views? (He got banned from Twitter earlier this year). Would there be more audience ejections than at a Kevin Bridges concert?

I'll come back to that.

Before I even got into the venue, I had to contend with the farcical queue. With only one door in operation for the plebs who didn't buy VIP tickets, the queue snaked to the back of the venue then back to the front, then round the other side, folding back on itself multiple times. This was at 7pm for a supposed start of 7.30pm. I suppose that's why they say *timings subject to change.

Eventually, the second door was brought into use for the commoners and security split the queue. This gave me time to study the prospective audience: predominantly male, in their twenties/ thirties, either alone or in small groups. Many were dressed in suits and ties, though there were just as many dressed casually. Not to say there were no females present but they were in the minority.

By 7.35 pm I was inside, only my bladder was now regretting that bottle of Coke Zero I'd consumed earlier so I had to join the queue for the gents, then the queue for a urinal, then for a sink and, finally, for the hand drier. It was a relief (of another variety) to discover the start had been delayed to 8pm. 

An announcement made clear that there would be a zero-tolerance policy for heckling, with anyone interrupting or disrupting the performance getting ejected. We had been warned.

Unnecessarily, it turned out. Everyone was polite (bar one individual who gave an unusual misplaced whistle midway through).

Dr Peterson spoke uninterrupted for nearly two hours, explaining his ideas, apparently not from his "Beyond Order" book but from the one he is currently working on. This work involves studying the stories from the Bible, notably the Book of Exodus, with a panel of experts, discussing the meaning behind the stories and looking at why stories are so important to us as individuals and to society and what we can learn from them for today's world.  

It is true when he said the average mind is capable of retaining five pieces of new information at a time because much of what he said is lost to me. He started on Betrayal being the worst of the sins as it undermines our deep beliefs, corrupting who we were, who we are and who we will be. He kept coming back to the idea of paying attention to oneself. Say only what you mean and dispense with the lies, as falsehood will only leave you unhappy, as you betray yourself. Only by being honest can you be truly happy. He spoke of the corrosive nature of social media, giving a voice to the extremes of society who, ordinarily in the past, would have been closed down by the voices of reason. He spoke of the terrifying nature of cancel culture destroying people's lives because a small group of keyboard warriors can't see beyond their own feelings.  

His answers often opened up new questions, which he then examined, returning to the theme or point he was making.  

He does make you think and question and question the question.

I usually write reviews highlighting the audience: the idiots, the inebriated and the different. It's become my modus operandi. Listening to Dr Jordan made me realise that, by doing so, I am setting myself apart, isolating myself from the crowd. This whole blog is predicated on the idea of being the lone voice in the crowd. If I question why, I can see a repeating pattern throughout my life of being the outsider, the bloke on the fringes, never a full member of any clique, removed by choice from friends and family. I use humour as armour and a weapon to protect myself and keep others at arm's length. Is that because of fear or pain or fear of pain? Whatever it is, it's not a good place to be.

However, change has to come from within to be effective. If it is forced upon the person (or society), it derives resentment and opposition and is ultimately ineffective for long-term change.     

I suppose what I learned tonight is that I need therapy (as does the world if we've any chance of uniting to beat climate change). 

How's that for an epiphany? Well worth sixty-three pounds and change.

Addendum:

For those who believe he is a champion of the InCel community, he made his views quite clear. By highlighting the flaws in their arguments and advocating the need for the individual to look at themselves to attain improvement, he pointed out it is more likely that the individual is in the wrong if everyone else shares the same reaction to them. It's science.