So I did this thing where I went to Ireland to see a comedian. I didn't laugh out loud but my shoulders jiggled a couple of times. For me that's a win. He was very funny in a curmudgeonly way. If you haven't heard of him, WTF, he knows and doesn't care. We're all going to die eventually anyway so what does it matter in the grand scheme.
Vicar St in Dublin is an odd venue (it's actually on Thomas Street for one thing). The seating plan has these tiny round tables with four satellite stools attached to each one. They are all crammed into the floor space leaving hardly any room between them unless you're as small as a leprechaun (yeah, I went there, I'm not proud). The sell out crowd are all perched on these toadstools getting backache (asking for a friend, how much do leprechauns pay their chiropractors?), unless you were lucky enough to be sitting at the side or in the balcony. On the stage, Marc is on a stool too, although his is taller, because he's American and he's more important (not really, he just likes to sit while he works).
He's got his shtick to go through and it's a process. He has material prepared but is professional enough to go off topic and bring us back. He's been doing it for thirty-five years after all. He's got a grouchy moustache and floppy hair, now greying, and he has his problems but he's working on them. He reckons he's 85% woke. He's just got to push back his vagina brain back a few levels and he'll be fine. His final bit about US veep Mike Pence at the end of the world ties up a lot of the night's themes and I'm pleased us need geeks will finally inherit the Earth, even if it is fucked. He also makes a valid point about all those fundamental Christians in positions of power accelerating the Apocalypse just so they can meet Jesus on his return. Now it all makes sense.
Good show. Boomer lives!
