Stand-up and be counted (aka A review in haste)

A night in Mixát (1/6/24)

Standup is difficult –

As a potential comedian it’s all about hope

As a drunk indulger, it’s about hope too

But it’s usually beyond hope

Hopeless

And maybe I’m too harsh;

(I’ve been onstage afterall)

But in fairness

Tonight I witnessed a guy

Who had jokes,

Have no jokes,

And get a laugh:

It’s really all about crowd

But in truth

It’s all about fear

And there was nothing honest.

People complained

But they, none of them, had the balls

To blame themselves

Like a bunch of whingey, whiney undergrads

They proclaimed some discontent

They even dared involve colour

Yes you’re brown but you’ve never been black

Being rich you’ve never been down

Ten to a room

But with an education

Trumps one hundred rooms

But destitute, in desperation.

If it wasn’t race it was gender

And I’m sure in all respects

All that mattered was that they

Yes they were the innocents

The victims

And my tears did fall

Not because of the stories that unfolded

But because I was witnessing the downfall

Of comedy –

Self-indulgence has overrun truth

Yes it takes two to tango

I wish people understood what that really meant.

© The Hairy Teacher, 1/6/24