helloalasdair

[helloalasdair]

19/01/25

Daniel Kitson and Gavin Osborne: The Ballad of Roger and Grace, Wardrobe Theatre

This was a treat. A new-to-me Kitson and Osborne endeavour (actually 19 years old, but hey) and basically in our backyard. It's great! Maybe I didn't love it as much as Collaborator, or Something Other Than Everything, but still, it was a lovely hour, and a very fun reminder that the last time I saw Kitson at the Wardrobe I spent the whole time preoccupied with whether Sam's leg was touching my leg.

[helloalasdair]

06/01/25

Ball and Boe, Soho Theatre

My first time seeing either John Kearns or Adam Riches live, and it's the show where they're impersonating, nay, inhabiting Alfie Boe and Michael Ball respectively. Apparently they had singing lessons, which I can believe? I was braced for comically bad singing but no, they're both perfectly passable but also not so great that you're just thinking "holy shit I didn't know the bucket sabotage guy could sing!" and actually I think that's quite brave. Not getting a laugh from being bad at it, not getting the inherent respect of being good at it - that means having to write actual jokes. And they have! Many! It's a brilliant show.

We were front row side of stage - Kearns-side, specifically. That meant that one particular joke, when it got me really really good, led to a quite prolonged moment of silent eye contact where I tried to communicate to John Kearns that I was okay, I was just very tickled by the idea of an original song about the Agricultural Revolution.

Incredible. Would love to know how it got made. It felt like a riff in the pub that got out of hand.

[helloalasdair]

02/01/25

Come on then, let's resurrect this in a way I feel less pressure to keep up with.

The Tempest - Theatre Royal

I got a £25 Blue Light ticket for this in a decent seat - just off centre towards the back of the circle. About three days after I bought it, the reviews came out and they were not great, particularly of Sigourney Weaver as Prospero. Still, even if they were broadly right, there was plenty to like and even love. Mason Alexander Park absolutely stole the show as Ariel, Forbes Masson put his whole leather-nappied bussy into Caliban, and Matthew Horne was pretty good too. Lighting and sound design both amazing. Just, yeah, Sigourney Weaver was not great and some of the directorial choices were odd (what was going on at the end there with everyone rotating? Was it a very, very slow tempest?). If nothing else, it reminded me that Shakespeare is just quite hard to do well. Worth a £25 ticket? Sure. Worth the additional travel to and from London? Hmm.

Sleep Token - Sundowning

A colleague is obsessed so I thought I'd give them a try on the train back from London. I'd heard they were kind of metal-ish (metallic?) and that's a direction in which my horizons aren't especially broad... to be honest, I've just never got on with anything heavier than SOAD, so this seemed like a good step. Anyway, it turns out that just because it wasn't really metal didn't mean I'd like it. There's enough there I enjoyed to give the other two albums a go, but I'm not sure they'll stick.

In the 15 or so minutes between finishing the album and the train pulling in, I relistened to a couple of Antlers tracks. The guitar stabs on Putting the Dog to Sleep continue to rip through me, putting me squarely back in the Lantern room at the Bristol Beacon, where I was at the front, sobbing.

[helloalasdair]

What the Funny?!, 9th June

Ah, Pride gigs. WTF is generally queerer than most nights although it's not an official policy exactly - they just book good line ups with demographic diversity in mind. It's also in Totterdown, which is just close enough to the centre that I reckon people are willing to amble over from most places if it takes their fancy.

I have my friends Ellie, Hugh, and Emily there - Ellie lives literally around the corner so she would struggle for an excuse. She also, very gracefully, cooked for us beforehand and it was delicious. I do feel bad that I feel like I only see them at comedy nights, but they're more spontaneous than I am with meetups so I often can't make things last minute. That said, I really appreciate the fact that they've both come to see me a few times now. They've gone way past being polite with it; I never want to hound people to come and see me so it means a lot that they have done seemingly willingly.

Back to the night - I've got an opening 15, it's fine. The real stumbling block is that a work friend and his wife are in the front row. I don't have any jokes that might be, as my manager puts it, a career-limiting manoeuvre, but it's more that Jim and I talk about comedy a lot and his opinion matters to me.

Thankfully, they seem to enjoy themselves (Jim, his wife, my friends, the rest of the audience) and I don't go home worrying I'm going to get fired.

I experimented this evening with putting the boat metaphor earlier on. I don't hate it, but more thought is needed as to how I then get out of it. I think if I bring back an old line (the Head Lad, or ladmiral, if you will) I can put that in longer sets and the callback right at the end of boat isn't such a stretch to remember.

[helloalasdair]

Cathays Community Centre fundraiser, 3rd June

Cathays Community Centre, Cardiff

Frighteningly mixed bill

So often when you appear as part of a mixed bill, you are not what the audience has come to see. This generally goes double when your fellow entertainers are young people who attend the community centre for which the funds are being raised.

We're told to get there for 6.30 for a 7pm start. We arrive. We find the running order. There is a DJ listed. Then there are some musical acts listed. Then there is Comedy. Then another musical act. Then there are Comedians. To finish, a band made of staff from the centre.

We are not expected to be on stage until 8.30. The hall is huge and the seats have given the audience way too much room to lounge. The DJ is oscillating between Vengaboys and 70s rock. Oh no. Oh no, no, no. This is a hostile environment for comedy, except...

Apparently, all those additions were made in the 48 hours before the gig and came as a great surprise to the MC who had booked us. The people who've bought tickets are just as bewildered to see the breadth of entertainment on offer as we are, as they've booked tickets for a comedy night.

However, they're mostly people who support or are supported by the centre in some form, and as such are undyingly patient, and still well up for both Comedy and Comedians. Everyone has a lovely gig, and my gay little jokes go down perfectly well. They - ever the surprise - absolutely love filth, so I lean a little more than usual into packer euphemisms which is about as filthy as I can manage.

Every couple of months I do a gig which surpasses all my expectations and somehow just Works. This was one of them. Vive la Cathays, long may she remain the pillar of the community she obviously is.

[helloalasdair]

Oppo, 31st May

Transadministrativaganza

New material (it's Oppo, you know the drill)

I am not a prop comedian. Honest. I've threatened it in the past (a binder made of fuzzy felt for custom nipples? I stand by it, conceptually) but never followed through. And I still haven't, arguably, because doing your deed poll on stage is all prop and no comedy.

There are certain things I need to force myself to do in certain ways, and admin is one of them. I got the idea at Boyz Nite, where Izzy the sound tech did theirs at the end of the show. I thought 'you know what would help me do mine, nine months after coming out? Scheduling it to be done at a certain time and place.' Given that my two witnesses were Sam and Tom, Oppo seemed a natural one. And on stage, because Oppo is for subjecting audiences to ideas I've had in the small hours for no good reason.

Ably MCd by Sam, I did a few minutes of new (on being perceived, which feels like a richer vein every day I exist) and then got my witnesses on stage for the signing. Given that Tom was on next, this meant he effectively did a lap of the room coming off stage to go back on. Such is the Oppo vibe, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

[helloalasdair]

In The Earth (2021), 28th May

Mum's house, Birmingham

107 minutes, dir. Ben Wheatley

Spoilers and interpretation of themes follows

Unlike Local Hero the day before, In The Earth has very much been on my radar for some time due to the on-screen presence of Reece Shearsmith.

Unlike Local Hero the day before, this was viewed at a terrible angle in my mum's sitting room.

Unlike Local Hero the day before, this screening was interrupted by cat/dog drama, cups of tea, and way too many questions like "Who was that? What was he doing? Why?" Some of those could be answered by, "I don't know, it's a horror, the mystery is unfolding," and some by "If you paid attention to the film rather than Candy Crush, maybe you'd have an idea."

Anyway.

Against all the odds, I enjoyed In The Earth a great deal. Solid cast - even though it was Reece Shearsmith's name that caught my eye, Joel Fry (or 'him out of Plebs' to my mum, and 'the guy from Our Flag Means Death' to me - remembering faces over names is genetic) is also really good in this.

Incidentally, I'm so glad I watched all the credits to see Cyriak credited with certain sequences. Definitely made sense in retrospect. The Clint Mansell soundtrack made me beam; it reminded me maybe of the original Suspiria but I'm not sure that's what I was thinking of. There's something about otherworldly synth music in the context of the forest that makes the familiar strange and threatening. Yes please.

So, it was made during the pandemic. The credits thank family and friends for maintaining their bubble and keeping safe. It's also set during a pandemic, but not the one that the audience lived through. It seems to have been more severe, or at least the accompanying lockdowns were more prolonged.

Spoilers beyond this point.

It then takes a turn into folk horror, which is interesting as the genre so often relies on the whole village coming together around the wicker man or what have you. In The Earth has a cast of five, which doesn't lend itself so much to that imagery, although now I think about it, maybe that's what the fungi were all up to.

Speaking of fungi: my mother, infuriatingly, said at the end "So it was all a big mushroom trip, was it?" And... I don't know, I felt the same way I feel when people dismiss art as the product of psychedelics, and it's not like I'm exactly mad about them (I've never taken any, even), but it feels wilfully reductive.

I thought the film had a lot more to say about how we search for patterns in things to try and make sense of our experiences. I don't know how much the film itself 'believes' in the supernatural explanation for what the characters experience; I felt like most of the phenomena could probably be attributed to natural causes, but that doesn't matter. What matters is that every one of those characters has undergone isolation (legally mandated, self-inflicted, and/or forced) and responds to this trauma by trying to make sense of what's happening around them. Which, yes, I suppose is a bit of a trip.

It's an insight into how superstitions and rituals form and are maintained. Wendell, the scientist, is ritualistic in her research, the results of which are beginning to sound implausible to say the least. Zack (Shearsmith) chooses to pursue art and sacrifice to serve the same ends. Everyone had their lockdown projects, I guess.

[helloalasdair]

Sabotage, 27th May

No Fit State, Bristol

Contemporary circus

It's going to be difficult to get across just how much this show meant to me for something I've only seen - will only see - one and a half times. Nevertheless, I will try.

Speaking generally, I often see performance-based stuff and want to give it a go. Acting, singing, even dance, obviously comedy, storytelling, spoken word - I've done all these things on stage in front of people because I've seen some people do it and gone "yeah alright, let's have a crack." It's not that I'm good at them, or think I can do better, but there's something about going to an open mic night or equivalent and seeing how people start from scratch that sort of gives me permission to do that.

Circus is not one of those things. I have no inclination to even try and spin a plate, let alone get on a trapeze. I tried to learn to juggle once. My mum put a stop to it eventually because the thud of the balls hitting the floor drove the entire house nuts. I am supremely uncoordinated and physically weak. The jump (or somersault) from nothing to anything is insurmountable for me, and that's fine. That's good, even. It makes every leap and twist something like a magic trick - I don't want to know how they do it. All that matters is that they can and they are.

That's a long preamble before we get to the specifics of Sabotage. As I say, I've seen it one and a half times. This was the full one; the half was when I went to Swansea to MC No Fit State's cabaret show, Village People. A few of the crew recognised me from then, despite me wearing significantly more clothes, which made me feel pretty good but is also just testament to what a welcoming bunch they are.

I don't have a brilliant memory; I'm writing this mostly based on notes made in the interval and directly afterwards. It's not really possible to spoil the show in the traditional sense as there isn't an obvious narrative. My interpretation was that it's a glimpse into a world elsewhere, maybe a village of people somewhere European, and seeing them come together or work alone in alternating scenes.

Every single sequence is some flavour of jaw-dropping. The lighting directs your focus around the tent at performers who enter and leave at varying velocities. It tends to be a solo or duo performance on e.g. aerial silks, a trapeze, something else entirely, followed by frenetic group activity that resets the stage in a way that's entertaining in its own right.

The music is live too, which brings me on to the other observation I had at the time: no one in that tent (I counted roughly 20 people who took to the stage at various points) had just one job. Even the lighting tech played at least two instruments and was acting as a human counterbalance for the aerialists, who also juggled, or rode a unicycle, or sang, or did the balancing for other aerialists.

And this is why this show - circus in general, I think - has carved out a place for itself inside me. It is a fierce celebration of what humans can do, yes, but it also says - loudly - that it is all made possible by the support we give each other. No one can fly forty feet in the air safely without someone at the other end of the rope, staying largely out of focus. No one can use a slackline like a three-inch-wide trampoline without a small army making sure there are crash mats in the right place. We look after each other. We trust each other. We propel each other to do incredible things. In this sense, Sabotage is ironically named.

[helloalasdair]

Local Hero (1983), 27th May

Watershed cinema 4k remaster

Minor spoilers ensure but come on, it is 40 years old

Let's get one confession out the way: the 40th anniversary re-release of Local Hero was not only not on my list of things I wanted to see, it wasn't even remotely on my radar (the entirety of my radar is currently Greta Gerwig's Barbie, obv). However, when presented as one of Sam's favourite films, it suddenly shot up the rankings of things I wanted to see.

It's lovely when something crosses your path fairly randomly and turns out to be this charming. There's a gentle surrealism to it that wouldn't have been possible had this been made ten or fifteen years later (so I reckon). Early 80s, however, means that oil execs can still be sympathetic protagonists. We have Mac (Peter Riegert) and Oldsen (a terrifyingly young Peter Capaldi) who are sent to Ferness on the west coast of Scotland to buy out the small community there, so that Knox Oil and Gas can build a terminal there. I'd sort of expected a Hallmark style plot of the villagers resisting with all their might, but that's not how it plays out at all.

The arrival of a Russian fisherman stood out to me in particular. It's a relatively minor plot point and Mac's reaction as an American is... I guess noted, but not dwelled on? It's set roughly when it was made, i.e. at a time of tension between the US and USSR, so the film doesn't bother with any exposition as to why Mac is somewhat on guard initially. It makes me wonder how films made & set now might read in 40 years, particularly with regards covid.

All in all, it's a gentle film. I'm glad to have had it put under my nose, as it were, because I can't imagine I'd have ever watched it otherwise.

[helloalasdair]

24 hours in Brighton, 19-20th May

I've been meaning to take a holiday for a while and have never quite got my shit together enough to make it happen, so as with all things my hand was eventually forced by a gig. Brighton is about three and a half hours away by train (going via London) so I would have had to book some time off work anyway. I ended up getting an earlyish train down, getting in at lunchtime, and leaving just after lunch on Saturday.

I dithered right up until a couple of days before on whether to stay for one night or two, but went for one on the basis of being very, very worn out and wanting to be able to enjoy it and then relax the next day. Immediately after booking I found three things on as part of the Brighton Fringe that I wanted to see, scheduled for after I left. C'est la vie.

In the end, I didn't bother with trying to see stuff which I'm quite glad about. Instead, I just had a wander about after checking in/out: along the sea front, the pier, Western Road, North Laines, started to read my book, whatever. Had I planned more and then, crucially, stuck to it, maybe I'd have managed the Lanes, the naturist beach, and more food. Regardless, I'm happy with how I did it.

Food: main things were Happy Maki on Friday and Neighbourhood on Saturday. Also, a vegan soft serve ice cream place near West Pier, Brighton's own memento mori out at sea. I'd have to go through my banking app to find others; shan't.

Happy Maki: vegan sushi. I opted for the mock duck sushi burrito to take away, which did not retain enough structural integrity on my walk to the gig venue. As the rice collapsed, so did my last shred of dignity as I shoveled it into my mouth on a street corner. Delicious though, as were the satay inari pockets. Just wish I'd decided to eat in, with access to more napkins.

Neighbourhood: vegan brunchy place; you probably know the sort. Lots of grains and avocados, but still a loaded fries on the menu. I actually went for the breakfast hash because I like avocado now and that novelty hasn't yet worn off.

Quick nose further around some of the vintage shops and I had to head to the station. I also found a queer community centre/cafe/fringe performer hub, which I think is permanent but fairly new. We love to see it.

One of the things that struck me about it is that yes, it's very gay all over, but Kemptown is still referred to as the LGBTQ quarter. I assume this means concentrations of gay at levels previously unknown to humanity. We love to see it.

It is still a seaside town though, with all the kitsch I associate with that. I found an absolutely terrifying postcard with Queen Liz 2 on it - the flash was not kind to her - and sent it to my friend Martin in New York. Lots of Queen, no Charles, lots of London memorabilia, Union Jacks next to pride flags - an odd mix! Side note, even as someone who loves rollercoasters, you could not get me on anything set on a pier. Even at low tide.

I'm already planning a trip back, possibly in July for Trans Pride, possibly for my birthday in October to coincide with starling murmuration season. And I might have spent half an hour looking at flats to rent on Rightmove.

[helloalasdair]

Boyz Nite, Brighton, 19th May

Cabaret by and for trans men / trans masc ppl

Standup comedy performance (paid)

I'm gigging a lot at the moment and it sometimes feels like I only leave Bristol when I have a gig somewhere, meaning I get back home very late (11.20pm Megabus from Swansea, anyone?) having only seen the route from train station to venue. This time, however, I ended up staying overnight in Brighton, which I'm going to make a separate post about.

So: Boyz Nite, organised by Cerys Bradley of Sportsperson. Part of Brighton Fringe (England's largest arts festival, by dint of Edinburgh being in Scotland), it is a cabaret featuring trans men and trans masc performers. This was the second iteration, featuring Cerys MCing, myself, Darren Ely (comedian that evening, also writer and improviser I believe), Richard Melanin III (drag king clown), and a last minute lineup change meant there was someone else (drag king) who isn't on the posters and whose stage name I've unfortunately forgotten. It was something like Lord Byron Wagner but not that.

I find gigs like this can sometimes be a double-edged sword. I have to lay very little groundwork for the audience (no "give me a cheer if you know what 'trans man' means!"), but that does sort of reveal just how many of my jokes are about laying groundwork for general audiences. That means, for example, my chihuahua joke (as I've named it in my head) often just... doesn't get much? Or it gets a cheer rather than a laugh? "Yes, you and Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson are both men. Factually accurate; move on," I imagine them saying to me. I worried a bit that this would happen here, but for literally all of my ten minutes. Watching it back, I don't think it did. I think what you can hear is a room of 60 people (in a 40 capacity venue, really) realise that they can call their T gel all sorts of fun things too.

This gig felt good. It felt like connection and all that fluffy stuff, yes, but it also made me feel like I'm Good At Comedy, which is not a feeling I often come away from gigs with! I think that's a really strong ten minutes and I can see where the tweaks are to make it stronger. And it's always good to meet other trans masc people in comedy and adjacent fields, because it doesn't happen often.

The night was rounded off by sound tech Izzy doing his deed poll, which was just really lovely and made me realise that the only way I'm going to get mine done is to schedule it for a gig. Should have bloody done it when I came out. Anyone want to buy my middle name for ad space?

[helloalasdair]

We Have Always Lived In The Castle, Shirley Jackson

This month's book club read

149 pages, ~4hrs reading time

If I had a nickel for every time I'd read a Magnus Archives fanfiction inspired by Shirley Jackson's We Have Always Lived In The Castle, I think I'd have like five nickels? Which honestly makes sense given the tone and the horror and the believing in things until they're true.

Anyway, this was this month's book club assignment, which is made up of two people I currently work with and two people who used to work there before I did. A nice bunch! Real girls, gays and theys vibe. I believe it was Henry who chose this one. It's a short read which was ace because I only had two days to finish it. I probably could have done it in one sitting if I'd had the time, but alas it was divided over a few shorter ones, aided by the chapter breaks.

Oooh baby, I do love me an unreliable narrator. Merrikat is a fascinating combination of order and chaos; the latter mostly coming through when the former is threatened. I resisted trying to put modern labels on her (autism? OCD? schizoaffective disorder?), as did one of my book club members who went with "little freak". But in a good way. I think.

I found it fascinating how we see events of the past and present solely through Merrikat's eyes, which means that if she doesn't care about something, she will not tell the reader. And she really doesn't care about what the reader wants to know. I think the mastery of the writing is in the way Jackson manages to drip-feed that information so that when (one of) the "twists" is revealed, it just makes sense rather than shocks. But again, in a good way.

This being my first book club, I didn't know that I'd be expected to rate the book out of 5. I gave it 4.5, but I'm not sure what I've deducted that half a mark for. Maybe some residual frustration with the narration and the questions I had that weren't resolved. But writing this out now, I'm forced to conclude that those might be in a good way, too.

[helloalasdair]

Zed Alley, 16th May

Zed Alley, Bristol

MCing - new act/new material

Forgive me Father, for I have sinned: I did twenty minutes at the top and caused an act to have to leave for their train without actually getting to perform. (In my defence, they never told anyone when that train was, just that they needed to go on first. Still though. Oh dear.) I'm sorry! I meant to say to the organiser that I didn't have my watch and could they please show me a light after ten minutes, but I forgot, and my internal clock utterly failed me. It was quite disconcerting to introduce the first act, turn to my right to see an entirely different person there coming on, and then head to the back of the room to discover the first act had left.

Look, apart from that lapse of professionalism, it was a great night. People had good things to say (about me, no less). Asking people what they'd replace their nipples with continues to bring me joy. Audience were excellent sports. I just need to do all that in less time.

[helloalasdair]

Circuit Breakers, 15th May

Hen and Chicken, Bristol

Pro(?) gig? Paid 10, innit

This is a gig I got booked for a little while ago and have been looking forward to since. Hen and Chicken is a fairly prestigious comedy venue as far as Bristol goes - it hosts one of two fully pro Saturday comedy nights in the city, and the nicer one of those at that. However, Circuit Breakers is not that Saturday show, nor is it in the main room. It has three generally local up-and-comers to support, then a headliner who is pro but maybe not as widely known as they should be. Caveats done, it was still a really lovely night.

I took a bit of a leap and changed my ten, dropping job search and boat metaphor in favour of doing both testosterone and packer rather than just one of them. I think it works! I need to tighten up the segues between them and that will likely give me room to add in something like frisbee, crispies, or most likely Jamie.

Everyone did brilliantly. The other two supports were Louise Leigh and Mark Hurman, both of whom I hugely admire. The headliner was Fred Cooke, who is based in Ireland and I believe well-known over there - he appeared on their version of Strictly (a fact which he downplays due to the population size of Ireland). It was a lovely silly treat; he played two melodicas at once and took audience requests. I keep giggling about it still.

It also meant a lot that a friend of a friend came along after seeing me post about it, and also brought her partner and two friends of theirs, which means I should probably post about the things I'm doing more often. It's almost like I have lovely supportive friends, and I might not be a complete disappointment. Sometimes.

[helloalasdair]

Trinity Garden Party, 14th May

Trinity Community Arts, Bristol

Comedy night daytime comedy show

If you ever think there is the remotest chance you might perform to children, prepare Minecraft material. That's what I learned from this. Minecraft is eternal in a way that Fortnite can only dream of.

Alright, backtrack: I was asked to do this one because the Trinity centre was having its annual garden party and had a spoken word stage indoors. Great, fine. They put the comedians on before the spoken work open mic. Even better - a cold room is more prepared for comedy than a room that's just heard a lot of poetry about grief (nothing against poetry about grief! It's just not the ideal amuse bouche for comedy). Unfortunately, this meant that up until my allotted stage time, there were about five people in the room because it was gorgeous weather and no one had any inclination to explore the indoor activities. We then had a steady stream of people while Omari continued to MC, which I was grateful for, but meant we were already ten minutes behind by the time I went on and some sections of the audience might have still thought we were at an AA meeting.

Mentally, I'd prepared to perform to a basically empty room so looking up and seeing about thirty people actually threw me. Oh, and it included children, which I'd been warned was a possibility.

Look. It was bad. I struggled. They were very quiet, it was a huge brightly lit hall with the audience floating sparsely within it, which isn't an ideal set up. However, that's not really an excuse - I should have been doing all my most joke-shaped jokes, I should have actually prepared and then been ready to deviate rather than turning up and vibing, because that vibe shifted rapidly over the fifteen minutes before I went on. And I shouldn't have sworn in front of the children.

[helloalasdair]

Bristol Loaf (Bedminster), 13th May 2023

Cocoa overnight oats and cryptic crossword

Café (dog friendly)

Bristol Loaf is one of those places that always seemed too popular to even attempt to get a table. I must have walked or bussed past it hundreds of times by now, and I've just never even tried. (To be fair, my life and routine was different when I moved here, so I can cut myself some slack. Some.) However, it fell upon me to suggest brunch spots for this morning, and, because he has the knack for this sort of thing, Sam managed to bag a table and had the crossword our by the time I arrived.

Cryptic crosswords are something that I've always wanted to learn; it's always felt weird that I don't know how to do them - it feels like it would be on brand for me to get them, and I sort of do, but I just assume everything is an anagram indicator and go from there. I can't pretend it's not lovely that it's something I get to learn from Sam, although the Guardian Saturday cryptic isn't exactly beginner level. Ultimately, my approach to cryptics is still to vibe it out.

And then, at the next table! Joey! What a revelation! So soft! So good! So dog! I learned (from his human companions) that he was out for the first time since having a hip operation, and was simultaneously very friendly and very anxious. What a mood, Joey, what a mood.

In terms of food, I was mostly looking longingly at everything else on the menu while eating my cocoa overnight oats, sans roasted hazelnut, half a spoonful at a time. They were good, but I wish I could have had something more potato-based. Still, really nice to go and eat somewhere that could cater to my post-tooth-extraction vegan slurry diet. It had a blood orange syrup that was genuinely really good and I would have also enjoyed in e.g. an iced coffee. Maybe it would have tasted like a mouthful of Revels.

[helloalasdair]

The Green Hollow, Owen Sheers

Screenplay, 2018

101 pages, approx 1 hour reading time

This was a purchase from The Last Bookshop, on Park Street. I hadn't heard of Owen Sheers before, but I don't put any value judgement on that because I don't know shit about art.

This is a screenplay of a 2017 BBC drama about the 1966 Aberfan disaster - a mining waste tip collapsed, completely destroying Pantglas primary school in Aberfan. 114 children and 28 adults died in an act of, essentially, corporate manslaughter (the National Coal Board were warned plenty of times that this might happen). I recommend the Wikipedia article if you want to read more.

The Green Hollow is incredibly moving. It brings to life the voices of various victims, survivors, rescuers, and descendants of those involved in the disaster. It's monologues rather than scenes or dialogues and does a good job of representing various lines that are chanted under the main speech, and indicating when people are speaking from the past, as it were. I'll definitely be seeking out the televised version to watch.