Petulant Machine

February started so well, with a couple of posts in quick succession. But look where we are now: a desperate sixth post before the month is out.

I'm yearning for a leap year. Yearning.

But when I have a deadline, I do my best work. Much like the cornered tiger, which also does its best work when it has a deadline.

I've posted this elsewhere, but I might as well share the knowledge with my ones of blog readers.

I'm doing stand-up at the Oxford Comedy Festival, at the Old Fire Station, on Saturday 29 March.

The bill is full of various sketch, stand-up and a third thing comedy acts. I'm sure they're all very good. It's also for CHARITY. That's right. I am a good person.

There are two shows, one at 2pm and one at 7pm. I'll be compering the first one and doing a "set" (which will be "funny") at the later one.

Full details, including ticket ordering information, are at the link I'm about to copy and paste after the upcoming colon:

http://oxfordcomedyfestival.org/

It promises to be hilarious and terrifying for all involved.

Luckily, I have a lot of material.

Isn't it annoying when your clench your fist and you're accidentally holding an ostrich egg?

***

I've been tidying up at work, and have inhaled about three hooverbagsworth of dust. I keep coughing.

I suppose my terrible lung problems serve me right for not tidying more often.

Hey: here's something. I once wrote a song with the following first line:

Inside my chest, sequestered, is a petulant machine

Is that, or is it not, the worst opening line of any song ever written?

The word "sequestered" is not the kind of lyric you want to stick up front. And "chest, sequestered" is a challenge for even the most skilled of mouths.

I never even came up with a permanent second line, because there was no way to follow it. Though most variants of the second line, ended in the word 'baby'. I think it was to provide contrast: a clichéd word to counterbalance a stupid, ungainly one. Light and shade. Baby and sequestered.

Huh.

According to Wikipedia, there's a Canadian metal band called Sequester. Actually, it seems like it's just one guy.



I was going to make fun of this, but it's actually pretty OK.

I think his success comes from lopping the 'ed' from the end of 'sequestered'. That's why he's a professional.

'Sequester' has lots of plus points. It has the word 'quest' in it, which is pretty good (though he should have replaced the 'q' with a question mark). It also ends with 'er'. All good bands end in 'er', like Guster, Squarepusher, and... er...

It gives the act a sense of agency. They're doing bands. They're always moving, always progressing. Unlike those stupid noun bands like Travis who have been stationary for their entire career.

And don't get me started on those terrible pronoun-number bands. U2 and Shed Seven should be ashamed of themselves. My sister used to like U2 but shed pretends that shed didn't. I still tease her about it, though.

***

You see? Deadlines FOCUS ME LIKE A LASER.

Now excuse me whilst I browse Sequester's back catalogue. I can even sing along. This dust is making my voice more metal by the minute.