Tag Archives: frankie boyle

The day comedy died? No, but it might as well have.

This was written yesterday, halfway through The Morgana Show and almost immediately after Tramadol Nights.

You know what? Fuck you, Frankie Boyle. You were once interesting. Something new. Something I gave a shit about paying attention to. Then you turned into a wanker. Well, that or you just started showing it to your audience.

I’m fine with comedians insulting people, insulting their audience. I like aggressive comedy. I like abrasive humour. I have a distinct appreciation for comedians willing to push the boat out – to toy with taboos and say things that others wouldn’t. And not in a shitty ‘ohhhh, I’m so edgy’ kind of way, but in a Richard “Hitler Moustache” Herring kind of way.

But Frankie Boyle appears to have taken the path of least resistance. He’s already built himself the reputation from that shit version of Have I Got News For You of being the man who isn’t afraid to make a joke about anything. Fair enough – not a bad reputation to have. But what has he done with it apart from string together some painfully obvious gags on the back of some subjects a few people might wince at? It’s lazy in the extreme, it’s boring, it brings up ‘touchy’ subjects for the sake of it, rather than because there’s anything to actually say about it. I mean fucking hell – at least Jimmy Carr is bloody funny with his ‘close to the knuckle’ material.

Then, of course, there’s the rest of the show. I feel I have to like things Rab Florence is involved in – I’ve seen his career develop and have some kind of bizarre loyalty to the man (mainly due to Consolevania and its ilk). But that’s tested with Tramadol Nights, which – from the first episode, at least – does nothing but miss the mark. It feels as lazy as Boyle’s stand up. I’m likely to give it another chance if I remember, as it might be hitting its stride, but from what we’ve seen so far… no. It’s not going to work out.

I’ve been proven wrong before though. And maybe it’s all just been done to piss people off, which would be fucking annoying as it means someone who actually cared enough to make comedy for people to laugh at has lost out on a TV slot. In fact, that’s the potential reason that annoys me more than anything else, as it shows Boyle up to be a moneygrabbing cock of the highest order.

Still, at least it’s not The Morgana Show. I made the mistake of leaving my TV on so that show came on. Comedy is subjective. What amuses one may not amuse another. You cannot just say something is, or isn’t funny. But The Morgana Show is not funny. And I’m not wasting any more words on it.

So well done everyone. I still have little faith in modern comedy.

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I can read!

I had to make myself read through the entirety of (an excerpt for) a novel based on the story of Assassin’s Creed 2 earlier. Normally, an excerpt of this size would take a couple of minutes to read through and even less time to dismiss and forget about. But this… this thing will probably stick with me for the rest of my life. See:

“They left the palazzo on foot together, arm in arm, and walked in the direction of the cathedral, to the small quarter near it where many of the artists of Florence had their workshops and studios. Some, like those of Verrocchio and the rising star Alessandro di Moriano Filipepi, who’d already acquired the nickname Botticelli, were large, busy places, where assistants and apprentices were busy grinding colours and mixing pigments, others, humbler.”

But I can’t slag it off. I can’t slate it. I can’t laugh at those who would buy this atrocity. Why? Because I have become as bad as the people who like this shit (and Dan Brown ‘novels’) and the twit who wrote it. I have, in recent months, started to read celebrity autobiographies. Well, I say ‘celebrities’, I mean Frankie Boyle and some wrestlers. Still, they’re more famous than you are, meaning they’re celebrities to me. People to be celebrated.

Rather than read the piles of crap from authors who some might say are respected, I am instead – as seems to be the norm – taking the path of least resistance. This time it’s by reading things that don’t make you think at all, but instead make you coo a bit like a fool and inform you of a life you have no experience of, nor will ever.

Actually, when I put it like that, it makes sense. I think I’ll re-read Bobby Heenan’s book now.

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