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This was the first time that I'd seen a DVD of Richard Herring after I'd watched the same act live (back in February when I was in London). I was a little surprised by how much of it I remembered (although either the order had changed, or I'd misremembered when he would talk about chasing a bicycle-riding thief through Shepherd's Bush) and I was also surprised by how serious the second half of the performance was. Had he got more serious as he'd toured the country?
Certainly, he's not the easiest comedian to watch in the world. I remember feeling a bit battered by the end of watching the performance live, and it had almost the same intensity to watch a recording of it. And while I don't disagree with the message, perhaps it's not really comedy by the second half. Can you make jokes about far-right parties getting seats in the European Parliament? Or would nobody come and see you if you advertised '90 minutes of political polemic, with some swearing'?
It's a very interesting thing to watch though; how rapt the audience remains throughout, at this somewhat overweight chap with unfortunate facial hair, shouting at them and telling them they're bad people. We were both tired after a long day of hammering words out on our respective word processors, so I only planned to watch half an hour, but we ended up watching the whole thing. Of all his performances, I think I prefer Someone Likes Yogurt, but that's because it's an easier thing to sit through. Or as easy as 90 minutes about yogurt can be. You don't get Worst Comedy Experience of 2005 for nothing, you know.
And then all the lights in the apartment went out.
This was a rather dramatic end to the evening, and for a moment I thought we had been judged and found wanting for staying up too late watching British comedy that I'd paid for, rather than downloading rubbish off peer-to-peer sites like everyone is meant to, and then I remembered the electricity board were turning off the building last night so they could do something. You know, with wires and stuff.
Today I suffered for this - my eyes were bloodshot from the lack of sleep - but I did have a ziploc bag of delicious chocolate biscuits that my long-suffering / forgiving / wonderfully caring fiancee had packed for me to eat. One of my co-workers suggested that this was rather like a mother packing off her children to school with their lunch in a plastic box, but I pointed out that my A-team lunchbox was not at the office. I should have asked her to step outside, but I can't go threatening violence to my co-workers. Beating somebody up over a difference on how you should supply food in the workplace is never the answer.
Not with my toe being broken at the moment, anyway.
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