Get Up, Stand Up...

My sleep habits are unhealthy, that's for sure. Last night entailed me going to bed as it was actually getting light (about 3.21). (This is written on roughly 6 hours sleep, so I managed hopefully just enough to fuction properly). The night before I managed about an hour earlier (the point where the moon disappears from the view of my window.

These bouts of insomnia are filled with (and quite possibly, in no small part, down to) writing comedy material. Now what with Friday Pictorials, attempted witty tweets and various sketches/sitcom drafts/plays all kicking around, one would imagine that I might have had just about enough of comedy writing, however there's one bit of ground I'm yet to break. The big 'un, the comedy grail: Stand-up.

Now, as primarily a writer, I subscribe to the old literary adage of 'get it writ, then get it right'. I'm very much still at the 'get it writ' stage. It's basically rambling and not funny enough and the 'get it right' stage is very much a pipedream. Like all things, I imagine a good deal of it comes down to practice.

It's fair to say that I have an unusual style in the sense that my influences are incredibly wide-ranging. I've talked before about the profound influence of Cowards on my writing style and indeed Messrs Key and Basden in their own right. Add in touches of Mark Watson, Tim Minchin, Russell Brand, Dave Allen, Willie Rushton, David Mitchell, Dylan Moran and Graham Linehan and you can see the massive melting pot of genius comedians arguing in my head for precedence. This makes writing a rather inconsistent and tricky process.

Fortunately, last night a good deal of potential material was served up by the ever reliably outragous talkSPORT. While waiting for Matthew Crosby to appear in his 'presenter's friend' role, myself and Katie and Zoe from Twitter heard all manner of preposterously outlandish opinions on conspiracy theories regarding 9/11. One man actually said, and I quote, "it's only an airliner, a building like that, the damage would be 'negligible'."

Let's just ponder that point for a moment. 'Negligible'?! At best this man was a cluelessly misguided, if a little offensive, man who spends too much time on the internet. I think the basic principle when it comes to any kind of vehicle crashing into a building is that it will definitely do some damage. If that vehicle happens to be a plane, then 'negligible' is probably not one of the words one should be grasping for. 'Devastating' perhaps, but not 'negligible'. To paraphrase Inigo Montoya, I don't think that word means what you think it means...

That said, if you really want to lose faith in a large section of humanity, then it's worth a listen. Fordy certainly attempts to offer the voice of reason in the face of simply staggering unbelievable bullshit, but there's only so much one man can do. The show certainly picked up for the hour when Crosby was in attendance however, once he had left the airwaves, I followed him (by which I mean, I switched stations, instead of, say, stalking him across the Big Smoke).

The Changing of the Clocks and The Missing Hour on the Wireless Or: British Summer Time My Arse

Well those buggers in Greenwich decided to fiddle with the clocks as they do biannually just to mess with my head (alright, that might not be the main reason but it works anyway) and now I find myself waking up late and not being able to get to sleep early enough. Damn you time, you manmade concept, you.

Last night I found myself getting progressively more awake as the night drew on. I had slept in for some time after an exceedingly long day travelling to Bath to watch the game against Harlequins and back on Saturday. It was entirely worth it though, as Bath grabbed a convincing three try victory with Olly Barkley lining up alongside Butch James for the first time this season and spawned one of the greatest sports headlines I've ever read in today's Guardian 'Bath Reap Barkley-James Harvest' (those born after 1970 see here). Anyway, I digress. I sat down in front of the excellent Wonders of the Solar System and watched Brian Cox (no, not that Brian Cox, this Brian Cox) explain how Jupiter affects asteroids and nudges them towards our planet in about 15 seconds and in a clearer manner than any school science teacher ever.

It's a remarkable show and Prof. Cox (think Jon Ronson, Alex James and Simon Armitage stuck in that machine from The Fly with Sir Patrick Moore) is a immensely knowledgable, enthusiastic host, with a good deal of charm and an uncanny ability to break down massively intimidating, complex particle- and astrophysics into understandable nuggets without resorting to hokey soundbites. Watching 'Wonders' is very much like watching a fireworks display, I find myself constantly 'ooh' ing and 'ahh' ing at the amazing vistas and the terrifying power of science. Cox sits beside a volcano in Ethiopia, indie-musician hair tousled by the wind (what the Prof would no doubt refer to as 'the beauty of physics') and explains how the magma bubbling to the surface in the pit of this volcano accurately represents what occurs on the surface of Jupiter's smallest moon, Io. Assertions that 'Wonders' could well be the 'Cosmos' of our generation are well-founded, I feel and Prof. Cox will no doubt ascend to the pantheon of great British documentary makers to join the Attenboroughs and Clarks of this world.

Well, several hours after all that excitement, at 1 in the morning I was still awake. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and turned the radio on (yeah, bathroom radio, what of it?) and caught the end of the shipping forecast (still don't know what it means, it could well be a big in-joke between all the fishermen and the Maritime and Coast Guard Agency). The continuity announcer then informed me that it was the end of programming. Yup, I'd stayed up so late that the radio had run out, how about that? Then they played the national anthem. Tremendous, why don't more radio stations do this? I bloody love Radio 4 for that (and for all the excellent comedy, not least The Unbelievable Truth which by happy coincidence starts a new series tonight at 6.30).

Eventually I made it to bed and listened to BBC 7. Poirot was on. There'd been a murder in France and Poirot was on the case. Interestingly all the French people spoke with perfect English accents, but Poirot maintained his comedy French accent, bloody Walloon. When I went to see my relatives in Flanders I noticed that although Agatha Christie was seemingly popular, Poirot was conspicuously absent. There's a healthy disrespect between the Flemish and the Walloons and was with this heartwarming reassurance that I eventually fell asleep.

I'm still knackered though and its now chucking it down, so congratulations on that British Summer Time. I want that hour back goddammit.

Insomnia - Why I'm On Vancouver Time...

It's been some time before I've managed to fall asleep in the same day that I woke up on, so it's just as well that there's plenty on to keep me occupied. Aside from the Winter Olympics, I'm also a big believer in radio and particularly 5Live's nightly phone-in hosted by Tony Livesey. As part of the 5Live reshuffle that saw Mayo move to the Radio 2 Drivetime slot vacated by Chris Evans, Richard Bacon, who had hosted the 10.30-1 show for over a year, moved to the afternoon and Radio Lancashire breakfast host and former Daily Sport editor Livesey took the reins of what had become a cult hit.

I'll be honest, with the announcement of his appointment I was a little skeptical about the Burnley man taking a slot which Bacon had made his own, but 2 months have passed and Livesey is really starting to hit his considerable straps. He's managed to win over a large percentage of Bacon disciples by giving central roles to listener favourites, newsreader Rachael Hodges and Nick Cosgrove from the prestigious 5Live Money department and it's this core of Team Livesey that provides the real entertainment. Whereas one might find other shows such as Victoria Derbyshire or Stephen Nolan to be dominated by their hosts alone, Livesey is keen to share the floor with Hodges, Cosgrove and the presenter's friend, invariably resulting in lively banter and a good deal of comic potential. The Livesey/Cosgrove relationship harks back to a golden age of radio comedy and Hodges keeps the pair in line masterfully. If you already listen or fancy listening at some point, there's also a lively Facebook Community (I say lively- me, Bri, Besty, Brock-man, Tatters and Abid all post regularly). Yesterday was a real cracker, with Punmaster General Bri McIntosh and myself wearing down Brock-man's patience (here's the best exchange of the night). I personally think that Livesey's got a real calming style about his presenting and that the show is going from strength to strength (and that's not just because I get my comments read out all the time...).

Ok, I know I went on about it yesterday, but the Winter Olympics are still happening and I'll be damned if I won't comment on them endlessly. Expect a lot of blogs to at least feature something about Vancouver 2010 for the duration. Last night, as I wondered if I'd be able to get to sleep before I had to get up, I was kept company by yet more Curling and the Men's Snowboard Halfpipe (featuring American prodigy Shaun White). Again the real highlight was Ed Leigh, they should let him commentate on every sport in the games (Cross-Country Skiing would be a lot more shouty and jargon-filled with the magnificent Leigh at the helm), though I'm sure most other people (the kind who know things about sport and don't use it to further their own comedy blogs) would say that the highlight was the remarkable new trick thrown down by White- the Tomahawk (or the Double McTwist 1260 *insert own 'do you want fries with that?' joke here*). Leigh practically had a coronary when White pulled this off on his final run. White didn't have to do it, the medal was already his, but like Mickey Rourke in The Wrestler he gave everything for the crowd (this is my bid to be Leigh's co-commentator for the 2014 games...). Other things that you might hear from Leigh are "an enormous double grab Stiffy" (stop sniggering), "Huge Double Cork 10!", "Sweet 720!" and "Only managed 4 tricks there. Absolutely gutting." I get the impression that he could literally be saying anything and we would be none the wiser.

Another highlight of the Halfpipe was the weird X-Factor-style promo vids that each boarder had, featuring Bonnie Tyler wind machines and shiny backlighting. Some sold it more than others (expect Loreal to come calling for Shaun White soon) but it was another bit of preposterously decadent, superfluous techo-wizadry that one suspects landed the Vancouver games in their current state of financial meltdown. One event that didn't feature competitors heads appearing Big Brother (1984, not crap reality show) style on a massive screen (although some would argue it was poorer for it), was the Women's Downhill, featuring British hopeful Chemmy Alcott. Alcott acquitted herself quite well, finding herself in the gold medal position at one point (by virtue of being the second person to go... the first having crashed and then got up to complete the course) but was soon outclassed by the super-quick, tiara-wearing Californian Jennifer Mancuso and then by eventual winner, shin injury-carrying, poster-girl Lindsey Vonn. Though Alcott finished an eventual 13th, she did make somewhat of stir and was trending on Twitter within seconds. She also found a wider audience- one American viewer commenting that "if she was the President, she'd be Baberaham Lincoln." I'd like to think that Ed Leigh would have said the same, had he been the commentator for the event. I imagine screengrabs of Alcott hugging Vonn were made desktop wallpapers throughout the Minnesota area.

The highlight of the Downhill though (and it really has to be seen to be believed) was Anja Paerson's spectacular crash, featuring what Ed Leigh would call "pre-jump" and "big air" before travelling 60m and, as Ed Leigh wouldn't say on air, eating shit in spectacular fashion. It's incredible - a ridiculous, astonishing crash that will no doubt be hailed as the 'moment of the games' (by me, at least). I will try and find a video for tomorrow's pictorial featuring it, it will enrich your lives. As the commentator rather rudely pointed out "she probably flew further than Eddie 'the Eagle'!". A close second was this effort, scoring far lower on the impressiveness scale but picking up a hefty nincompoopery bonus. The best bit, is where the male commentator just laughs towards the end and the classic "oooohh" noise from the ex-pro.

Finally I was carried off by the Curling. Team GB enjoyed a rather successful day 'with the hammer' yesterday, with both the Men and Women's teams winning their matches. 19 year old Skip Eve Muirhead led the Ladies to a remarkable victory over world champs China, whereas things were looking a little rocky in places for David Murdoch's team as they overcame minnows France. The canny French were keen to place the corner guards and 'thousand yard stare' Murdoch called for a big play. "They don't want to get into a guard war and risk losing a big end." Explained 2002 hero Rhona Martin. Well who would? (If you want a more play-by-play description of last night's curling action, have a peek at my Twitter feed). There were a few cutaways to a rather cosy looking Martin and Cram in the commentary box. The legendary Skip was clad in some impressive BBC Sport winter merch, while Cram seemed to be getting a bit handsy (cabin fever?). Murdoch's brave clan eventually overcame the plucky Gauls and the coverage finished with some techno and screen advertising the Luge Doubles, a hilariously unnecessary event and officialy the least favourite sport of Nick Griffin and the Westboro Church.

In other news, I was alerted to this marvellous blog, a must for fans of Wittertainment.