Initially NO's Blog: IN - Posts Tagged "seriousness"
Humour me, seriously…
I’ve always preferred to listen to comedy, rather than seriousness. So, for a long time I’ve written with a focus of finding a laugh. That’s not to say there isn’t something serious in the comedy, with me, usually there is.
This year, feeling a lot more supported in the community than I have been in previous years, I decided it was time to open up to the point of clarity, for those people who might dismiss humour as ‘non-sense’.
It’s not as though I’m not appreciative of serious writing, but I do tend to look for works that have a least the wry smile that is often found in Margaret Atwood. Writing never has had to be punch-line Terry Pratchett to be what I enjoy. I read very serious text books that aim at healing. But yes, they do have an aim and I want the underlying sense to be clear or give something beautiful that like a powerful waterfall or gorgeous mountain range the writing transfixes me with its awe inspiring qualities, if not to make me laugh.
I have the pleasure of being a convenor of a local poetry gig, where I get to hear poets read their work, and find sometimes I need the inroad of their voice to get their thinking. Take Salman Rushdie, whose work I put down because I felt it bleak, well, I recently watched a lecture where he began his speech with one word, then a laugh, then a sentence and another laugh. Soon the audience were laughing with him, understanding his flow, and that’s when I knew that I had not been used to his voice enough to understand his books until I witnessed his speech.
In my books, I speak a narrative. They are books to be read from front to back, even the poetry ones, and picture books. I was surprised when someone said they were dipping in here and there in my autobiography ‘Percipience’. I thought: then, you won’t understand much at all. ‘Percipience’ was written with the ideas of punch-lines in mind, but it’s not a light-humour book. I don’t often write light-humour. When I use swear words in my humour, I’m usually trying to find a way to talk about abuse, so that it won’t hurt me too much if I reread it, but so people can hopefully see a way to move on from perpetuation of such things. Comedy has strength to ridicule abusers, humiliating them in a way where they can't argue back without losing face and looking silly.
Writing more serious poetry in 2014 books, ‘Coal fire cream’ had me standing at a book launch flipping through pages desperately trying to find something that was detached from any kind of trauma. I realised what other people meant when they said they didn’t actually like reading their work on stage. Previous to the ‘Coal fire cream’ book launch I’d had a hoot on stage, but then, I’d only ever read poems that got laughs from the audience.
Vulnerability isn’t a good feeling, when what you say gets attacked. And, this has been what has happened. Does this mean I actually have something to say that is controversial to bully/narcissist types in both my comedy, seriousness and illustration? I think so, because they’re the reason I turned to comedy in the first place: absolute armour, oh except when they’re psychiatrists. There’s no way you can joke with psychiatrists. The ones I've been forced to meet with are just deadend narcissist-abusers who are backed up by government legislation that legalises their torture regime.
Oh, my lover just entered into my study to give me a beautiful soft kiss… too much information? Beats thinking about past traumas and how I’m going to make a profit in the book industry. Having love in my life that’s always a smile, orgasms that have me laughing with bliss and energy. It’s wonderful to have a relationship that is never work, always pleasure because we listen to each other, and make sense. I’m hoping my writing catches up with that soon.
This year, feeling a lot more supported in the community than I have been in previous years, I decided it was time to open up to the point of clarity, for those people who might dismiss humour as ‘non-sense’.
It’s not as though I’m not appreciative of serious writing, but I do tend to look for works that have a least the wry smile that is often found in Margaret Atwood. Writing never has had to be punch-line Terry Pratchett to be what I enjoy. I read very serious text books that aim at healing. But yes, they do have an aim and I want the underlying sense to be clear or give something beautiful that like a powerful waterfall or gorgeous mountain range the writing transfixes me with its awe inspiring qualities, if not to make me laugh.
I have the pleasure of being a convenor of a local poetry gig, where I get to hear poets read their work, and find sometimes I need the inroad of their voice to get their thinking. Take Salman Rushdie, whose work I put down because I felt it bleak, well, I recently watched a lecture where he began his speech with one word, then a laugh, then a sentence and another laugh. Soon the audience were laughing with him, understanding his flow, and that’s when I knew that I had not been used to his voice enough to understand his books until I witnessed his speech.
In my books, I speak a narrative. They are books to be read from front to back, even the poetry ones, and picture books. I was surprised when someone said they were dipping in here and there in my autobiography ‘Percipience’. I thought: then, you won’t understand much at all. ‘Percipience’ was written with the ideas of punch-lines in mind, but it’s not a light-humour book. I don’t often write light-humour. When I use swear words in my humour, I’m usually trying to find a way to talk about abuse, so that it won’t hurt me too much if I reread it, but so people can hopefully see a way to move on from perpetuation of such things. Comedy has strength to ridicule abusers, humiliating them in a way where they can't argue back without losing face and looking silly.
Writing more serious poetry in 2014 books, ‘Coal fire cream’ had me standing at a book launch flipping through pages desperately trying to find something that was detached from any kind of trauma. I realised what other people meant when they said they didn’t actually like reading their work on stage. Previous to the ‘Coal fire cream’ book launch I’d had a hoot on stage, but then, I’d only ever read poems that got laughs from the audience.
Vulnerability isn’t a good feeling, when what you say gets attacked. And, this has been what has happened. Does this mean I actually have something to say that is controversial to bully/narcissist types in both my comedy, seriousness and illustration? I think so, because they’re the reason I turned to comedy in the first place: absolute armour, oh except when they’re psychiatrists. There’s no way you can joke with psychiatrists. The ones I've been forced to meet with are just deadend narcissist-abusers who are backed up by government legislation that legalises their torture regime.
Oh, my lover just entered into my study to give me a beautiful soft kiss… too much information? Beats thinking about past traumas and how I’m going to make a profit in the book industry. Having love in my life that’s always a smile, orgasms that have me laughing with bliss and energy. It’s wonderful to have a relationship that is never work, always pleasure because we listen to each other, and make sense. I’m hoping my writing catches up with that soon.
