My Shelves, My Selves

On Friday night, I was interviewed by John Fleming for his blog. Among the topics we discussed was how sad it was that such a talented, eclectic and erudite man as Jeremy Beadle became so castigated as a result of Beadle's About. (Inexcusable pun: using Beadle as your go-to 'figure of hate' is a despicable shorthand.) Fleming had known Beadle personally, and mentioned the extension that he had built on to his house to contain the library he used while working as London Editor of The People's Almanac.

Yesterday, the morning after my meeting with Fleming, I was doing my own book reorganization. A large number of them had been removed from our living room while we redecorated. It was time to put them back in again.

I'm old enough now to perceive the limits of my book acquisition. I buy many fewer books now than I did in my late teens and early twenties, a time when it was impossible to order up rare books from the Internet. Many of my most precious books were excavated from damp labyrinths underneath the Charing Cross Road, which I would explore speculatively on a frequent basis. Unless I become suddenly wealthy and change my reading and living habits, I'm unlikely to need miles of additional shelf-space. It is not inconceivable that, within my lifetime, many new books – especially those of obscure subject matter – will never see ink or paper, and that most of the books in my collection will be digitized, and could be retrieved on my phone with a few taps.

The more books that are hoarded, however, the less likely it it becomes that any particular book will ever be consulted again. So they sit on the shelf and get dusty. When you move house, they get piled into heavy boxes and them emptied out again. So they've been treated like pure clutter and moved out of their previous free-standing bookshelves (low-level, easy-to-reach, taking up floor space) and archived away onto high-level purpose-built wall shelves. Why not simply get rid of them?

That would be unthinkable. They're one of the very few things that I'm proud of. Of course, I've plenty of Queneau, Perec, Cocteau, Vian, Roussel, etc.. But I also have the 32 volumes of Fantômas, plus several very rare editions of the Allain-era sequels (and the exceptional L'Encyclopedie de Fantômas, which deserves an blog entry all to itself). I've a tatty copy of Ubu Roi signed by Stanley Chapman with a gidouille sketch. I've scuffed early editions, published by Calder Boyers, of all of Ionesco's plays, and lots of René de Obaldia and Fernando Arrabal, Robert Pinget, etc. And quite a lot of Blaise Cendrars and Gustave Le Rouge, and countless tiny nrf 'Le Livre de Poche' editions of French poetry which is unlikely ever to be translated, and which I'll never get round to reading. (And naturally, I own the three volumes of The People's Almanac and related publications.)

Each one carries with it a journey that I once took, hidden away between the covers. The experiences and significances inside them shine brightly with myriad iridescent refractions and personal reflections. They're not much to look at, but they are more precious to me than diamonds. Nonetheless, it is impossible not to contemplate the imperceptible, slow change in my relationship with my books. They are on display, but out of the way, like a rusting ploughshare nailed to the wall of a country pub. With every day that passes they become less like the tools I use in my life and more like an ossified memorial of it. My books give me an overwhelmingly delightful melancholy and a tragic joy.

Casual visitors to Highgate Cemetery often react with surprise when they stumble upon Jeremy Beadle's moving gravestone. (They should put a hidden camera there.)

P. S. As a result of several emotional and physical upheavals in the last few years, my books have become horrible muddled, and it is time to set about the massive task of organizing them – which will be an existential self-organization. There's plenty that has been written on this topic, in particular a great article by Perec in Species of Spaces, a book which, ironically, I'm currently unable to find.

Winch

I have a fascination with voice actors. The other day it occurred to me that Gargamel in the original Smurfs TV series sounded a lot like Dick Dastardly. A Google search cleared this up simply. Yes, it turns out, the two characters were both voiced by Paul Winchell. On discovering Winchell's Wikipedia page, however, I was blown away.

His primary achievement was as a ventriloquist, working with Jerry Mahoney and Knucklehead Smiff. Here's an episode of one of his live TV shows from 1955, heavily sponsored by Tootsie Rolls.

It's worth watching the whole show. For example, at 17:13, Knucklehead Smiff sings a song explaining the workings of the human eye. By 22:40, Jerry Mahoney has apparently run away from home, and Winchell is in tears.

In addition to his ventriloquism and voice acting work (most famously as Tigger in Disney's Winnie-the-Pooh animations), Paul Winchell made studies in acupuncture, medical hypnosis and theology. He was an accomplished painter. He invented an artificial heart – which may have influenced the Jarvik-7 – and a disposable razor blade. He also worked for the Leukemia Society, and promoted a hunger relief scheme in Africa through fish farming. Yet there appears also to have been a darker side to his life, including personal battles with abuse as a child, depression and mental illness.

Paul Winchell's autobiography, Winch, was published in 2004, the year before his death, and clearly he used it to settle a few scores. Good luck finding a copy. It is not in the British Library. Indeed, there appear to be no copies in the United Kingdom. The cheapest copy available I can find on Amazon is £175. Was the book withdrawn, pulped even, following legal wranglings over its content? There exists this thread, on a magicians' forum, for people who wonder how Winch may be obtained, including contributions from individuals who claim to have read it. 

The only scrap of Winch I have so far managed to salvage is the lurid cover, including "Foreword by Dr Henry Heimlich, creator of the Heimlich Maneuver", and this press release from the book's publisher. I joyfully quote it in full. Every paragraph is jaw-dropping.

After many years of waiting, fans of legendary ventriloquist, Paul Winchell, can now learn the real, life story of one of the more unusual television performers of our time, the amazing Paul Winchell. Far more than a ventriloquist and television performer, Paul Winchell'’s life is hard to contain even in, WINCH, his 400 page autobiography, because, unlike most people in this strange planet, Paul Winchell dared to be himself. And by daring to follow his own golden thread of truth, Paul Winchell, like the legendary Ariadne, met the Minotaur, his own monster within. This true story is a tale, which transcends even his meteoric rise to fame and fortune as one of the leading television entertainers of the 50's and the 60's and many other facets of his amazing life.

As Winchell proclaims on the dust jacket, on the back of WINCH's bright and inviting cover, with the pictures famous ventriloquist and his dummies in his television studio: "Let me warn you at the outset, this is not a typical Hollywood memoir. In a way, it is a ghost story, written by a person who lived in two completely different worlds. Publicly, I lived in a world of glitter and celebrity. Privately, I lived in a world dominated by a ghostly apparition, elevated to deific proportions. In this secret world, I made an excruciatingly difficult odyssey towards self-knowledge."

Both the glitter and the nightmare of his life are relentlessly tracked in a book, which sometimes reads like Horatio Alger and sometimes like Stephen King. In fact, most of his fans will be shocked to learn of the Paul Winchell who had a private life outside of the limelight, whose true life was so different than that of the public Paul. Winchell. Although many celebrities have written books that brush the cobwebs under the table, Paul Winchell does not. In WINCH, Paul Winchell mercilessly chronicles the private war he fought against the darkness within himself.

During the 1930's, a kid from Coney Island is struck by the art of Edgar Bergen, a ventriloquist who has soared to fame on a radio show, the Chase and Sanborn hour. Bergen, through his writings and performances becomes the mentor that launches young Winchell on his career. Eventually, Winch becomes to television what Bergen was to radio, climbing through the world of radio and Big Bands. Still, the death of his mother, Clara, who he both loved and feared, an unhappy marriage and torrid love affair ignite the latent psychological problems within. Winch, despite his great success, lives in a supernatural world, assailed by an apparition, who assumes monstrous, almost deific proportions.

Eventually, this interior world turned upside down, overtakes the real world. His fight to exorcise his demons continues, as he develops numerous prime time TV shows and children's shows, which dominate the airwaves for more than two decades. Although partially drowning in a world of unspeakable fear and supernatural horror, he studies psychology, religion, mythology and, medical hypnosis. Unwilling to be imprisoned by his second life, he continues his productive work in entertainment and even undertakes many creative enterprises, including the thrilling invention of artificial heart, courageous projects for someone consumed by a secret terrifying nightmare.

From the crude supernaturalism of his own mother, Clara Wilchin, a woman obsessed with hellfire and damnation to the friendship and suave showmanship of mentor, Edgar Bergen; from the powerful friendship of Ed Sullivan which helped him achieve national notoriety to the uncaring contempt of the wife of an early marriage, from the fierce seductiveness of his Latin mistress, Rosetta Solares to the cruel indifference of Frank Sinatra; from his friendly competitor, Ronald Reagan, who he beat in a national soap box race to the unquenchable loyalty of Major Bowes, his first sponsor and lifelong friend – WINCH is filled to the brim with unforgettable characters and alliances, some powerful friendships and some terrifying betrayals.

The book, which has also spawned a screenplay, is part of a larger plan of Paul Winchell's to not only tell the story of his life in this one book, but to develop a series of books and films that will renew, revitalize and project many of his old characters into a new twenty-first century format. "“To this end, as I have stated in my introduction, I have somewhat fictionalized my story - partly to protect certain identities. I hope that there are those who have been abused in this way that will profit from my story and perhaps there are those who will re-examine their relationships to present and future children on the basis of this narrative.

"Although this is an adult book – and, believe me, it is nothing but an adult book – it is my belief that this book will enable me to rekindle some of my old shows and reformulate my new approach to children'’s broadcasting. I am attempting to recapture some of my own fans and audience as a prelude to a massive attempt to change the nature of children's broadcasting, not by talking about it, but by doing it. At this very moment, we are beta testing PAUL WINCHELL'S KIDS'’ NETWORK, a worldwide streaming children's website, which will initially feature my vintage shows and some other very recognizable shows. Within the children's network, we are developing an animation team that will do some in-house work, but also work on a major cartoon series, featuring my old characters in a new light."”

"I cannot emphasize enough, however, that this book is a prelude to three other books and films that are a somewhat fanciful retelling of the story I have told in WINCH. Not only is WINCH currently in screenplay form, but I have already invested in a set of screenplays that will form the basis of a science fiction trilogy that I believe will rival Star Wars, Fellowship of the Rings, Back to the Future – and other highly successful franchise efforts. In my case, unlike the others I am speaking of, I have actually practiced before. I would hate to count the number of Hollywood celebrities who played with Jerry Mahoney and Knucklehead Smiff and gave ventriloquism a whirl in their childhoods. You can read about David Copperfield'’s efforts in his introduction to the new edition of my next book, Ventriloquism for Fun and Profit. But people like Robert De Niro, Francis Ford Coppola, Ted Knight, Johnny Carson – even Howard Stern – were all taken by ventriloquism when they were younger- and I daresay the efforts of my franchise and my merchandising made an impression."

I suddenly have only one ambition in my life: GET WINCH! 

Lorem Ipsum

Normally, when I make books, I get the text, edit it, then lay it out on the page, finding images and fitting them around the text appropriately. Other times, I am required to design the pages first and fit the text in afterwards. I much prefer the former way of working, as I believe the text should come first. The visual elements should be secondary and complementary. One thing that makes me feel old – with increasing frequency these days – is my staunch inability to ditch my outdated bias towards content over style.

When it is necessary to do the design work first, InDesign lets you flow "dummy" text into the pages, so that you can see how the typography will look before you get the real text.

In publishing terminology, this dummy text is known as "Lorem ipsum" text. It consists of tiny fragments of a treatise by the 1st-century Roman philosopher/polititian Cicero, entitled De finibus bonorum et malorum ("On the Limits of Good and Evil"). These phrases are then swapped, scrambled, expanded and randomized to produce a unique text of any length.

It's fascinating to read. As literature, it reminds me of Finnegans Wake translated into Latin. Undergoing endless permutations, it never repeats, yet it retains the grandly oratorical and ironic style of Cicero's original. It is, therefore, an eternal treatise, an everlasting monologue on good and evil. Due to its aleatory mode of composition, no two versions are identical, so any "Lorem ipsum" you create is individual to you. It is surely to be declaimed, chanted, out loud, like a poem, a meditative incantation, slowly with feeling. Try it. Remember to breathe.

The irony is that each individual's personal meditation upon the limits of good and evil is itself limitless. An eternity is required to grasp such divine forms. Like William Wordsworth, all we can achieve within a human timescale is a Prelude to the Immortal Poem of Eternal Revelation. These texts, therefore, are about the process of search, not the product of revelation. They represent the ultimate comic tragedy: the triumph of style over content.

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Nunc sed luctus mauris. Mauris leo justo, malesuada quis semper sed, laoreet et erat. Etiam pellentesque erat libero, vel vulputate lacus cursus sed. Duis euismod tellus sed nulla scelerisque, vel semper arcu dictum. Suspendisse cursus felis quis mi tincidunt pretium. Morbi consectetur semper dapibus. Cras tempor diam et tempor fringilla. Pellentesque ornare luctus faucibus. Nulla quis pharetra elit. Aenean et gravida ipsum. Maecenas imperdiet molestie lacus, non pretium augue sagittis vitae. Donec pellentesque ullamcorper nulla, sit amet interdum nisl pharetra eget. Pellentesque risus sem, facilisis in vestibulum ut, pretium vel libero. Vestibulum porttitor vestibulum nulla, et aliquam risus adipiscing vitae.

Vivamus mauris diam, ultricies quis urna facilisis, bibendum gravida orci. Ut purus sapien, sollicitudin sed euismod at, congue et turpis. Praesent et arcu consectetur, mollis purus sit amet, blandit massa. Proin diam massa, gravida non dui non, vestibulum dignissim nisi. Nunc tellus purus, suscipit vel hendrerit eget, dictum a tortor. Ut eu hendrerit lorem. Mauris luctus massa at orci imperdiet eleifend.

Morbi suscipit libero nec lorem molestie, a semper nunc varius. Proin faucibus facilisis dolor aliquam luctus. Curabitur ornare dui ut imperdiet bibendum. Nam quis porta eros. Quisque mattis, leo et aliquet sollicitudin, justo diam ultricies dui, ultricies tincidunt lectus justo at ipsum. Morbi gravida nisi in arcu dapibus, eu condimentum arcu cursus. Mauris tempus augue velit, et fermentum quam malesuada eu. Sed tempor sapien felis, quis rutrum turpis porttitor at. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Mauris imperdiet orci nec feugiat feugiat. Phasellus ut porta turpis, sit amet facilisis nunc. Proin nec lorem posuere, laoreet elit vitae, tincidunt neque. Aliquam elementum ante magna, sed elementum neque porta sit amet. Sed feugiat dictum orci, nec commodo neque porttitor in. Quisque dictum arcu pellentesque auctor tincidunt. Integer tempus, orci vitae porttitor porttitor, diam eros vehicula nulla, at sollicitudin elit augue et velit.

Praesent porttitor at lorem vel convallis. Pellentesque sit amet dui faucibus, aliquet velit eu, facilisis nisi. Nullam faucibus semper lectus. Morbi nisi felis, pellentesque non suscipit a, porttitor sed lectus. Proin sed magna eget leo adipiscing condimentum sagittis in orci. Fusce ornare urna magna, id facilisis elit consectetur nec. Sed a eleifend orci. Nunc aliquet ut metus non condimentum. Nam accumsan enim enim, non lobortis nibh rutrum nec. Sed vestibulum ante a pretium egestas. Quisque ac ipsum accumsan, gravida quam sed, euismod dolor. Quisque quis justo nisi. Quisque orci erat, venenatis at diam quis, auctor rutrum ante. Vivamus laoreet arcu erat, et blandit ligula ultrices sit amet.

Fusce a tortor aliquet, vehicula tortor nec, tincidunt tortor. Suspendisse porta, velit vel eleifend tincidunt, justo ante ornare risus, sit amet posuere sapien libero at dolor. Nulla venenatis pretium tortor nec dapibus. Fusce blandit lacus sed lorem accumsan mollis. In posuere arcu nec tellus elementum, at iaculis nulla pharetra. Curabitur quis tellus vel leo ullamcorper mattis. Nam vestibulum volutpat neque sed eleifend. Proin augue odio, lacinia quis tincidunt eget, mattis ut eros. Fusce non tristique nisi. Donec lacinia, nisl at accumsan dapibus, est dui interdum velit, facilisis rhoncus leo mauris non risus. Duis massa nisl, varius vel dolor et, pharetra volutpat eros. Nullam varius sapien nulla, ut viverra nisl dictum eu. Morbi pharetra nunc lorem, et sagittis augue fringilla nec. Integer sed feugiat enim. Quisque vel risus lorem. Etiam eget justo vehicula, pulvinar nisl nec, semper metus.

Etiam vestibulum auctor est, nec commodo quam posuere lobortis. Proin consequat nec libero consectetur feugiat. Quisque id gravida purus. Duis vitae nulla sed velit lobortis lobortis. Duis id sapien odio. Proin adipiscing lacus at purus fringilla, ac commodo diam rutrum. Donec risus mauris, suscipit ac elementum sed, tristique non massa.

Donec dui lorem, pharetra ac velit vel, accumsan viverra arcu. Fusce convallis nec mauris at fermentum. Integer in sapien eu elit faucibus congue. Nulla quis tempus risus, id adipiscing justo. Mauris ac augue quis eros luctus laoreet. Aliquam neque diam, interdum sed mi vitae, commodo gravida sem. Maecenas sed urna id dolor consectetur egestas nec in libero. Vivamus risus odio, porta vitae turpis ut, pharetra eleifend sapien.

Fusce adipiscing metus at est iaculis semper. Vivamus varius vestibulum nulla. Maecenas volutpat viverra posuere. Nullam consequat suscipit auctor. Nulla in odio sit amet libero lacinia fermentum sed a nisl. Nunc at nunc mattis, posuere sem non, aliquet turpis. Suspendisse dui ante, facilisis vel massa sit amet, euismod vestibulum diam. Vestibulum mauris orci, laoreet id placerat ac, laoreet lacinia justo. Donec semper tempus arcu, ac tempor velit egestas ut. Donec nec lobortis tortor. Ut non sodales augue, eget tincidunt nulla. Praesent tincidunt purus accumsan accumsan fermentum. Donec a turpis dolor. Pellentesque orci elit, dignissim eu rutrum at, accumsan nec augue. Curabitur felis libero, elementum vitae accumsan sit amet, gravida ut urna. Aliquam ut sagittis mi.

Donec et convallis elit. Maecenas et imperdiet libero. Nam ac laoreet arcu. Pellentesque rutrum mollis velit et viverra. Nunc gravida vel leo id lobortis. Proin metus quam, posuere ut fringilla id, dapibus quis mauris. Nulla scelerisque nisi vitae nisi consequat, vel porta lectus dignissim. Cras pharetra vitae dui a eleifend. In hac habitasse platea dictumst. Sed dignissim magna sed tellus malesuada vulputate. Etiam interdum commodo dui, non hendrerit lectus mattis sit amet.

Vestibulum ante ipsum primis in faucibus orci luctus et ultrices posuere cubilia Curae; Curabitur pellentesque lacus eu ipsum consectetur luctus at sed quam. Mauris justo diam, venenatis in porta id, molestie at nibh. Praesent vel elit quis massa ullamcorper tristique convallis vitae lorem. Morbi sed purus elit. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Mauris sodales nec mauris et molestie. Nullam vel quam non risus sodales vehicula sit amet eu metus. Mauris sollicitudin arcu sit amet nibh sagittis luctus. Aenean aliquet odio a est luctus suscipit.

Nullam sit amet scelerisque dui, ut hendrerit metus. Maecenas lobortis scelerisque quam vitae adipiscing. Proin quis blandit odio. Etiam vestibulum dignissim varius. In semper, urna eget porttitor malesuada, ante mauris convallis leo, vel lacinia eros nisi id erat. Ut tincidunt pulvinar turpis, eget iaculis orci accumsan at. Nunc at nisl quam. Integer rhoncus egestas erat a porta. Nulla vel quam lacus. Sed varius erat ante. Vivamus nec viverra tortor, vitae porta nisl. Vestibulum placerat turpis vitae turpis condimentum, nec euismod felis placerat. Pellentesque et ullamcorper justo. Nunc bibendum malesuada nisi sed vestibulum. Cras faucibus, lectus id tincidunt laoreet, purus elit ornare metus, sodales aliquam nulla eros vitae ipsum.

Donec semper odio dui, vitae ullamcorper magna aliquam vitae. Integer sit amet vestibulum lacus. Aenean sed malesuada diam. Cum sociis natoque penatibus et magnis dis parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus. Morbi orci tortor, euismod ut ante et, sodales eleifend neque. Curabitur tincidunt nulla dapibus, sagittis nibh sit amet, adipiscing sapien. Vivamus luctus mauris sit amet imperdiet malesuada. Nunc varius placerat condimentum. Suspendisse arcu lectus, suscipit id neque ut, consequat gravida odio. Etiam molestie eleifend risus. Aliquam rhoncus placerat odio, ut porta erat molestie sit amet. Pellentesque turpis est, bibendum quis mauris sit amet, vulputate dignissim turpis.

Vestibulum non ante sed ipsum placerat rutrum. Phasellus non pharetra tortor. Vivamus nec risus quis massa vulputate sagittis id at nulla. Nunc at fringilla dui, eget consectetur libero. Fusce nec dui magna. Nam auctor, massa at rutrum mollis, dui justo fermentum turpis, quis egestas nisi risus vitae lectus. Nunc pretium condimentum lectus, nec auctor arcu malesuada at. Donec placerat tellus augue, at imperdiet quam viverra non. Sed ut eleifend mauris, id facilisis justo. Vestibulum lectus nisl, euismod a semper vel, pellentesque at magna. Maecenas ligula odio, viverra a pulvinar id, dignissim at urna. Fusce gravida imperdiet orci quis dignissim. Maecenas at nisi molestie massa euismod tincidunt sit amet sed nisl. Sed gravida metus quis eros scelerisque dapibus.

Morbi egestas arcu turpis. Maecenas eget sem quis ligula egestas varius sit amet ullamcorper tellus. Nulla facilisi. Etiam eget eros imperdiet, ultricies libero porttitor, eleifend neque. Nulla vulputate sollicitudin sapien non feugiat. Mauris vel orci nibh. Nam in odio mauris. Donec ut nibh venenatis, convallis nulla ac, accumsan nulla. Mauris vitae consectetur tortor. In pretium id sapien vitae ullamcorper. Praesent varius orci enim. Pellentesque commodo quam augue, consectetur elementum augue tempor ac.

Proin at augue interdum, volutpat neque et, aliquam odio. Sed euismod eu nisi sit amet elementum. Ut sed metus elit. Cras feugiat risus at sem pharetra, iaculis gravida arcu pellentesque. Sed eu ipsum ut est gravida commodo semper sit amet sem. Donec dui tortor, ullamcorper euismod turpis volutpat, interdum eleifend urna. Maecenas volutpat mauris in tincidunt ornare. Nunc vulputate lectus eget urna commodo fringilla. Integer id velit lorem. Suspendisse id suscipit eros.

Duis fringilla a tortor vitae facilisis. Maecenas sollicitudin viverra risus volutpat consectetur. Duis venenatis a nulla a suscipit. Integer eu imperdiet neque. Mauris id faucibus purus. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos himenaeos. Vestibulum ante ipsum primis in faucibus orci luctus et ultrices posuere cubilia Curae; Etiam blandit felis odio, non vulputate magna lacinia eget. Aliquam porttitor interdum enim vitae ultrices. Cum sociis natoque penatibus et magnis dis parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus. Sed ante urna, placerat viverra purus et, posuere luctus est. Vivamus suscipit velit nibh. Proin lobortis, odio ut vestibulum pellentesque, ante mauris tristique dolor, sit amet rhoncus nunc purus in elit.

Nunc viverra ullamcorper justo, sit amet lacinia elit tincidunt vel. Sed sit amet auctor lacus, et fermentum metus. Etiam ut diam a sapien imperdiet adipiscing in gravida odio. Curabitur vulputate fermentum leo ut lacinia. Curabitur condimentum lacus non enim commodo elementum. Proin at semper tortor. Vestibulum eget accumsan magna. Vestibulum dignissim nibh id ante vestibulum tristique. Nullam porttitor risus ac orci lobortis consequat. Praesent eleifend dapibus mattis. Maecenas ut varius tellus. Fusce eget malesuada lectus. Etiam sit amet sem lobortis, tempor massa vitae, interdum erat. Aliquam sodales malesuada nisl, at cursus enim aliquam non. Aliquam sed lectus porta, fringilla lorem vel, placerat tellus. Ut ut dolor nisi.

Nullam vitae facilisis purus, a molestie arcu. Nullam vitae nunc ac lorem rhoncus aliquet. Praesent tristique rutrum rhoncus. Proin sollicitudin congue orci ut tincidunt. Pellentesque accumsan facilisis nisl, non fringilla libero rutrum vel. Praesent vitae odio diam. Cras ornare suscipit nisl rhoncus fringilla. Suspendisse sodales felis eget nisl consectetur pellentesque. Suspendisse potenti. Praesent ac tincidunt sem.

Aliquam blandit turpis vel fermentum tempus. Donec sodales tellus eu orci auctor, et placerat ante cursus. Fusce eu rutrum felis. Nullam sed ligula eu orci blandit blandit. Maecenas fermentum vestibulum lorem eget dapibus. Mauris iaculis est in accumsan auctor. Pellentesque vel felis in nunc dictum dapibus. Quisque pretium et magna nec pellentesque. Nulla sit amet laoreet erat. Sed suscipit urna est, ut semper arcu dapibus eu. Vivamus at augue nec augue placerat ullamcorper quis quis justo. Proin feugiat neque ac felis fermentum, non sagittis ligula elementum. Aliquam scelerisque libero eu tortor pellentesque, id vehicula elit tempus.

Nullam ultricies vel dolor vitae hendrerit. In eget fringilla turpis, a dictum leo. In lectus ligula, congue id accumsan sed, feugiat eu tortor. Pellentesque vel viverra nulla. Morbi in dui eget leo mattis adipiscing at et magna. Pellentesque venenatis fringilla tellus, sed malesuada erat fringilla vitae. Sed vehicula libero vel leo semper luctus. 

For I will consider my Cat Elliott

Most people think that Elliott is named after T.S. Eliot, the author of Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats. This is untrue. Elliott ("two ls, two ts") is the name that was assigned to him by the Mayhew Animal Home, "Obviously," we were told as we took him away, "you'll want to come up with your own name for him." Why? Elliott is a perfect name.

Elliott and I share many character traits. We are both scruffy, bad-tempered, lazy, cowardly and habit-driven. Like me, he is stoical and avoids confrontations at every cost. Like him, I am both introverted and attention-seeking. 

It is probably no coincidence that we're so alike. I am his principal role model, and I can see myself reflected in him. In some ways he is the truest reflection of me there is. Unlike self-portraits that I consciously construct myself, he doesn't seek to flatter me. The status relationship is coolly practical rather than emotional. His affection for me is entirely on his terms rather than mine. I have far more to learn from him about what I will put up with than he from me.

He was born on New Year's Day 2008, making him, in cat years, almost exactly the same age as me.  When he was little, he was skittish and shy, but he is entering a more comfortable middle age. His reputation among local cats is now assured, this having been achieved not through screeching fights and growling stand-offs, but rather by having the patience to simply wait until he was the largest cat in the neighbourhood.

Although he remains just as messy and grumpy as he was when he was a kitten, he has lately taken up some new hobbies. He spends much more of his time on windowsills, showing himself off and keeping a close eye on the weather. When out and about, he is more active now than when he was a younger. He catches birds, plays with string and goes on adventures. By far the most remarkable of his new achievements is his sudden enthusiasm for climbing, which has really taken off in the last three months. Although he doesn't have the physique for lithe verticalism, he will propel himself up fences and trees like an unguided rocket.

Seeing myself reflected in Elliott, I find it encouraging that it is not too late to learn fresh skills and adopt new habits, while simultaneously reaping the rewards of apathy.

I am a Filthy Pervert

It's time I confessed: I am a filthy pervert.

I've been spending too much time online, returning to the same few websites. What began as an unhealthy obsession has degraded into a debilitating addiction. After each session, I feel clammy and ashamed.

I've been reading Edinburgh Fringe Festival reviews. All of them. Not just reviews of my friends' shows. Not just the comedy shows. Not just five-star or one-star reviews. All of them. And there's no shortage. The more of these I read, the less I know about the shows, about the Fringe, about criticism, or about creativity in general. My enthusiasm for life in general diminishes with every mouseclick. Yet on I go, ushered on by a demon wearing a lanyard: Broadway Baby, Three Weeks, The List, The Scotsman, The Skinny, Fringe Review...

I begin each review with a quantum of curiosity, but with each passing sentence, that initial interest sours into irritation, then boils into anger. Then I hate myself, rub my eyes, remind myself that I need a holiday, and click on the next review.

I confessed my addiction to Alex Fradera at his birthday drinks last night. He advised me to take a place on the next step of the critical staircase, and begin reviewing the reviewers. This proposal only makes sense if reviews of reviewers are themselves reviewed by higher reviewers, and so on, up the pyramid, until the eye of an all-illuminating God delivers his final judgment upon the entire edifice: "Yes" or, more likely, "No".

While the content of the reviews is invariably at hilarious odds with the star-rating (which is presumably added by a hungover editor afterwards), it's hard to categorise them in any other way with equanimity.

Five- and four-star reviews tend to numb my muscles and give me the sweats. Like a cake covered in too much sugary icing, the delighted superlatives bury the content of the show. Rarely do gushing reviews negotiate or explain anything. I feel as if I am a weary parent being dragged into a toyshop by a spoilt child. "C'mon! This is where you must go!" It's off-putting.

I have far more sympathy for the recipients of one- and two-star reviews. I like to think that somewhere underneath all those Anglo Saxon sighs, tuts and eye-rolling, I might excavate an idea of that performance that had (at the very least) good intentions and a plan (however misconceived) that someone once thought was worth pursuing. I may be wrong. I can only guess. I will never know. A kitten dying of cancer is less sad than a world-weary two-star review.

The vast majority of reviews, however, sit clumped together in the middle, like an embolism in the bloodstream. These reviews are the ones most likely to include erudite references, make extravagant assertions about the purpose of the artform, or to compare a show you haven't seen to another show you haven't seen. Even-handedness erodes to box-ticking analytics.

Not all reviews are badly written, sneering, unhelpful, narcissistic, biassed or bland. But all reviews have that depressing aim of attempting to summarise, in an easily digestible nugget, the divine delirium, the insane miracle that is in the nature of every performance, good or bad. Why, then can I not stop reading them?

When will my perverted gaze be satisfied? When will I finally be able to turn off my computer monitor, open the curtains and face the refreshing light of day knowing that I have read enough? What am I searching for in all these reviews? Perhaps I'm hoping to attain, by means of a reductio ad absurdam, an ultimate glut, a point at which I will have transcended, despite myself, any criticism myself. This is the stratagem of the smoker or the alcoholic who attempts to poison their body so much that the notion of any further intake causes them to shudder. Is it possible for me to reach that point, is there no limit to the quantity of toxic material I can digest?

I'm certainly becoming desensitised. Words repeated endlessly leak significance until they become almost empty syllables. And the claim that the opinion of critics is meaningless becomes itself meaningless when repeated enough. The reviewers have me ensnared in this paradox. I have joined them, these accursed souls, sitting in their specially reserved circle of hell, leaning back in their chairs in the dark, with their arms crossed, drool on their chins and glazed eyes.

Violence in Comedy

Did you hear about the shrimp that went to the prawn's cocktail party? He pulled a mussel.*

Boom!

I've had it on my mind for a while now how strange it is that the language of comedy draws so heavily on the language of violence – primarily fighting, warfare, rape and murder. A punchline is never recited; it is delivered, like a blow to the audience. A salvo of rat-a-tat jokes is aimed with razor-sharp accuracy, with quickfire delivery. Uncompromising performers pull no punches and their jokes hit their targets.

On arrival, an audience who is unprepared to laugh have their guard up. These defences must be broken down, bit by bit, until they are left helpless with mirth. They're at the comedian's mercy. They're being slaughtered. They're killed. If the routine fails, however, then it's the comic who dies on stage.

Successful shows are often a knockout, a hit, a smash, a smash hit.  A mega-successful show is a "blockbuster", using the word for the large aerial bombs used by the Allies in the firebombing of Hamburg in the Second World War, each literally wiping out a city block.

I find there to be something a little unhappy about the way the aggression metaphor is pursued so relentlessly. Sometimes I wonder if there exists any other way to describe the way comedy works. Must an audience be beaten into submission to get a laugh? Is this trend a reflection of a macho sexism that persists throughout the comedy scene? Or are comedians, all haunted by an impossible dream that impels them – the dream of a perfect joke, a perfect show – merely acting out the scenario of reaching their goal at last, and only by invoking the finality of death can they adequately express it? A desperate and dark fantasy, that.

I'd be intrigued to know if the same language is pursued among non-English speakers. Either way, whenever I read a tweet bragging that "We killed it last night,"  or "I nailed it," or "We stormed it," from someone who in real life is the sweetest, most generous person you've ever met, I shudder slightly.

* Ken Dodd, of course.

Working Alone

Ken Campbell used to explain why he ended up doing mainly solo shows: "I'd like to collaborate with other people, but they prefer it this way." I often identify with that, but working on my own requires vast resources of energy and discipline. I am a big fan of energy and discipline. I love telling people about the importance of energy and discipline. I am a massive hypocrite.

I can feel myself potentially heading into one of those long summer funks, when many of my friends depart noisily to Edinburgh or Chicago to work on terrific ambitious projects, and I'm left kicking my heels and wondering what I want to be doing – a question I don't find easy to answer.

I've never been able to understand people who define their goal as "comedy" or "being funny". For me, this doesn't help me orient myself. If you're only going for laughs, then you really don't know what you're going for. A performer going for laughs is like an athlete going for cheers. For me, being funny can't be an objective but only a by-product of being honest. It shows that you're on the right track. (Of course, I'm not dismissing comedy or comedians. There's only one thing more absurd than trying to be funny, and that's trying to be serious.)

My aim is really to find an authentic voice for myself. I've had a bit of success lately with a few cabaret acts that have proven popular with audiences. In fact I've had the pleasure of hearing crowds roar with deep laughter at my antics. That's a good sign. I've stumbled into this kind of stunt rather by accident, which is probably the best way of going about it.

I'd love to collaborate with some new people, especially on improv projects (solo improv gives me toothache). But right now I'm feeling the fear of being at the starting line of a lonely Marathon I haven't trained for. With no one but my nose to guide me, the only direction is forward into the unknown.