Robert Wringham - The Occasional Papers

I once had a rather odd dream in which there was a reforming of Cluub Zarathustra: a comedy cabaret set up by Simon Munnery and Stewart Lee circa 1993. In the dream I was allowed into the launch event as a journo and given the job of capturing a few interviews for some zine or other.

For some reason, the version of Simon Munnery I’d dreamed up seemed to develop a genuine disliking of me: whether it was specifically me to whom he objected or to my status as a journalist, I’m not sure but he didn’t seem to have much time for me at all.

This was probably inspired by an occasion in which I threw him a friendly heckle at one of his slower gigs in The Stand at Edinburgh, but it seemed to catch him off-guard and throw him off his rhythm entirely. I remember feeling terrible about this. So this must have been his revenge: he was prowling my dreams like a Freddy Krueger, but instead of murderising me with his knife fingers, he just forced me to endure some uncomfortable social faux-pas.

I remembered this dream yesterday as made my way to London's Crystal Palace district to interview Stewart Lee before his spot at Josie Long's Sunday Night Adventure Club. What if the same thing happened? I love Stewart Lee. He’s my favourite comedian who isn’t dead. Bizarrely, I'd just bought the DVD of his Jerry Springer - The Opera as research and the booklet that accompanied the DVD included an article written by Stew called "Never Meet Your Heroes". I was anxious to say the least.

Actually, the interview went OK and I was happy to discover that Stew is a friendly and charming bloke with enough time for idiots like me. You should be able to read the interview in an upcoming issue of The Mind’s Construction.

But throughout the interview, I was regretting my status as a journo. I had to be the press guy, scribbling away on a pad and he had to be the talent, giving as many interesting and publishable answers as possible. In reality, I wanted to say “Stew! I’m a comedian too! I’ve loved your standup since I was twelve. You're my hero. Show me how to be like you!”

I'm also not 100% happy with my interview technique. The thing about interviews is that you have to learn to be uber-reflexive. I’d planned a list of questions in advance, which I hoped was quite well constructed and not just a rubbish stream of consciousness. But when the answer given to you for Question 1 isn’t quite what you had in mind, Question 2 – in spite of all its relevance originally – now seems like a boring non-sequitor, void of any real significance. It’s difficult to be so reflexive when it’s not a proper two-way conversation and one of the parties is writing everything down. I don’t think my interview had the proper ecological validity I was hoping for due to this. With an email interview, it’s all asynchronous so you can go away and construct a clever next question with all the time in the world.

So I’m not sure I want to be a journo anymore. I’ll stick to theory-writing and librarianship and saying funny things with my mouth. I’m good at those things. Sort of.

Incidentally, the gig itself was pretty good. Cafe ABC is really rather cool and Josie Long has created an excellent little enclave for non-confrontational and interesting stand-up comedy.

By making me the comedy correspondent of The Mind's Construction Quarterly, Neil Scott has provided me with far more power and amusement than I'm sure he would ever have imagined.

Watching sitcoms is no longer a guilty veg-fest conducted in secret behind closed doors while wearing women's underwear. It's work.

Yes, in this nation of workaholic career heads, watching hours upon hours of moronic pink-walled japery can actually be considered laudable. At last I am an upstanding capitalist citizen. I might even get a haircut. I might even get myself some work clothes: perhaps some sort of power-tracksuit.

Sure, I might not be writing an article about Seinfeld right now, but it's all connected. Don't you see? The seven hours of the wacky American sitcom I sat through yesterday was all about research. I'm very thorough like that. I hope that people in other non-comedy-based disciplines (hanging out in transitional spaces all day, no doubt) can learn from my holistic way of doing things.

"Aren't you going to do the washing up?" asks my fascist, neo-Nazi flatmate.

No. Not right now. I'm working very hard.

The most recent observation I can make about Seinfeld is regarding its apparent non-similarity to Curb Your Enthusiasm. While it was created by the same guy, a lot of people comment upon how radically different the two shows are: one being quite traditional while the other one is semi-improvised and with a style verging on Cinéma vérité. With my amazing Comedy Correspondent's eyes, however, I can see the similarity. Among other parallels, I've noticed that both shows are based around the logic of 'the eb and the flow' or 'what goes around comes around'.

In Seinfeld, Jerry or George (or Larry in Curb) will in some way feed the meter of the universe. They'll make some sort of offering to the god of sitcom New York (or sitcom L.A. in Larry David's case) and it will come right back at them in one way or another. The most literal and instant example of that in Seinfeld is when Elaine gives a label maker to a friend only for him to re-gift it to Jerry in the next act. But it happens in every single episode, I think. Next time you're watching Seinfeld or Curb Your Enthusiasm, be sure to look out for the eb-and-flow factor (as well as comparing Seinfeld to Father Ted and evaluating the stock character qualities of the 'Wacky Neighbour').

Class Dismissed.