This all started, three blogs ago, as a piece about David Hughes, who worked as a doorman/cashier/DJ at the Le Strip club in Toronto from 1982 to 1994.
It then began to divert via undercover work for the CSIS (the Canadian Security Intelligence Service), neo-Nazis, a massive counterfeiting scheme, planned terrorism in the 1980s, a far right Christian Identity religious group, a Ku Klux Klan gathering and a South African apartheid regime connection to, at the end of the last blog, membership of the Rhodesian Army.
“Hold on!” I said to David Hughes. “The Rhodesian Army”?
So, I think not unreasonably, I asked him for more background…
He responded…
David serving in the York Regional Police, in the 1970s…
As far as the Rhodesian Army was concerned, I became aware of the conflict ongoing in that country while attending Police College in Alymer, Ontario as a member of York Regional Police Force in 1976.
One of my classmates, Ken, was a member of Peel Regional Police Force and had recently immigrated to Canada after spending several years in the BSAP (British South Africa Police) who were the equivalent to our RCMP in the then-country of Rhodesia.
He was about ten years older than me and I looked up to him as a mentor with his worldly experience – not only as a police officer in Rhodesia but also because of his prior service as a ‘bobby’ in the Birmingham police force in Great Britain.
Ken told me I was too young to be policeman and that I should travel the world and join either the BSAP in South Africa or the Rhodesian Army.
So, in December 1978, I took him up on his advice and quit York Regional police.
By January 1979 I had flown to Rhodesia and joined the Rhodesian Army.
David Hughes says: “The Rhodesian Army was 85% African during that era and these are some of the African soldiers served with at the time – tough, disciplined soldiers…” (Photo taken April 1979)
May 1979: David Hughes in the Rhodesian Army “in my ‘blackface’ – We called it “black is beautiful camo creme”.
Initially, I was posted as a recruit to the Rhodesian SAS regiment where I underwent three months of their recruit training and selection – but I ultimately dropped off the course and transferred into the Rhodesian Armoured Car Regiment where I served under American Major Darryl Winkler (a former US Army Vietnam veteran who had received a battlefield commission during that war).
I served in that unit throughout the remainder of the Bush War until Rhodesia ultimately became Zimbabwe in 1980.
Obtaining an early discharge from the Zimbabwe Army, I traveled to South Africa and went to the SADF (South African Defence Force) recruiting office in Pretoria and was given an offer of employment.
I was all set to join the SADF and engage in the war that was beginning in earnest in that country when I got homesick and returned to Canada.
I tried to get hired by 13 different police forces in Canada when I returned but no police force would touch me because of the ‘racist’ connotations associated with the Rhodesian conflict.
I spent the next five years working three jobs (one of which was at Le Strip) in order to make a living before I was hired by Canadian Pacific Rail in 1986 and my fortunes began to change for the better. Even then I still hung on to the the part-time job at Le Strip until 1994 because my level of seniority at the railway was such that I still needed part-time work to make ends meet.
As my blog yesterday mentioned performer/artist The Iceman, I thought I would ask Gencraft AI to create an image of “a man made of ice attempting to melt himself with a flame-thrower”.
It seemed like a good idea at the time.
This was the result.
It’s an interesting idea, but is this an example of Artificial Intelligence taking the piss…?
As regular readers of this blog will know, I have an interest in Artificial Intelligence and its ability to mine facts and opinions… largely because it is interesting how misinformation spreads and how Chinese Whispers result in cumulative errors.
Last Friday (5th January) was the late comedian Malcolm Hardee’s birthday. He was born in 1950.
He died 19 years ago, in 2005.
So I asked three AIs to write me an obituary of Malcolm Hardee to see what facts they had mined.
Wreaths at Malcolm Hardee’s funeral
PERPLEXITY AI wrote…
Malcolm Hardee, a prominent figure in British comedy, passed away on January 31, 2005. He was a comedian, agent, manager, and club-owner who had a significant influence on the British comedy scene. Hardee was known for his unconventional and anarchic style, and he played a pivotal role in shaping the careers of numerous comedians, including Jo Brand, Harry Enfield, and Paul Merton. His offstage antics and larger-than-life personality made him an icon of the alternative comedy movement. Hardee’s unexpected death, as a result of drowning in Greenland Dock, marked the end of an era in British comedy. He was remembered for his loyalty, unorthodox behavior, and his lasting impact on the comedy world. Malcolm Hardee will be dearly missed by his family, friends, and the comedy community.
So far so good.
Next up…
CHAT GPT wrote…
In Memoriam: Malcolm Hardee (1950 – 2005)
The world of comedy bids a fond yet bittersweet farewell to the legendary and irrepressible Malcolm Hardee, who departed this realm on January 31, 2005, leaving behind a legacy of laughter, chaos, and an indomitable spirit. Born on January 5, 1950, in Lewisham, London, Hardee’s passing marks the end of an era in British comedy.
Malcolm Hardee was no ordinary comedian; he was a maverick, a provocateur, and a true original. With a career spanning several decades, Hardee carved out a niche for himself in the annals of stand-up, known for his audacious humor, unabashed irreverence, and a penchant for pushing boundaries that set him apart from his peers.
Beginning his comedic journey in the 1970s, Hardee quickly became a fixture on the London comedy circuit. His legendary establishment, the Tunnel Club, became a crucible for emerging talent, a place where the unconventional and the unexpected thrived. Hardee’s anarchic approach to comedy was a beacon for those who dared to defy convention.
Beyond the stage, Malcolm Hardee was a larger-than-life personality, leaving an indelible mark on the hearts of friends and fellow comedians. His generosity, camaraderie, and willingness to embrace the absurd endeared him to a wide circle of admirers. Hardee’s influence extended not only through his performances but also through his mentorship of young comedians, shaping the landscape of British comedy in ways that continue to resonate today.
Malcolm Hardee’s comedic genius found expression not only in his live performances but also in his written works. His autobiography, “I Stole Freddie Mercury’s Birthday Cake”, offered a glimpse into the mischievous mind of a man who lived life on his own terms.
As we mourn the passing of this comedic icon, let us celebrate the laughter he gifted us, the chaos he reveled in, and the irrepressible spirit that defined Malcolm Hardee. Though he may have left the stage, his legacy lives on in the hearts of those who were fortunate enough to share in the joy of his unique brand of comedy. The world is a little less colorful without Malcolm Hardee, but his influence ensures that the laughter he ignited will echo through the halls of comedy for years to come.
Fair enough. Next…
CLAUDE AI wrote…
Malcolm Hardee, an eccentric and seminal figure in British alternative comedy, has died at the age of 55. Hardee passed away on January 31st, 2005 from drowning after a night of revelry.
Hardee got his start performing on the London comedy circuit in the 1980s, known for outrageous stunts and an anarchic sensibility. He became a pioneer of alternative comedy, founding The Tunnel Club which helped launch iconoclastic acts like Vic Reeves and Jerry Sadowitz.
As a performer, Hardee incorporated bizarre acts into his stand-up like the “naked balloon dance” and fire eating. Known as the “Godfather of British Alternative Comedy,” he had a larger-than-life persona and was notorious for erratic, intoxicated behavior on and off stage.
The latter years of Hardee’s life were marred by numerous arrests and run ins with authorities. However the comedian maintained a cult status among fellow artists and fans. He was a ubiquitous figure at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. Hardee also operated a comedy club boat, The Wibbley Wobbley, to entertain attendees of the annual festival.
Malcolm Hardee is survived by his two sons. His impact on British comedy remains unparalleled – he discovered and promoted new talent fearlessly. Hardee’s provocative humor and exhibitionist style left a legacy on alternative acts for decades. The comedy world has lost one of its most irreverent pioneers and showmen.
“Fire eating”???
Numerous arrests???
The Wibbley Wobbley in London entertained attendees of the Fringe Festival in Edinburgh???
Malcolm’s children were two sons? That’ll be news to his son and daughter.
Close. But no cigar…
So I thought I would ask AI to “Write a comedy monologue in the style of British comedian Malcolm Hardee”.
PERPLEXITY AI admirably just outright refused to do it…I’m sorry, but I can’t provide a verbatim comedy monologue in the style of a specific comedian as it would involve creating original content.
CLAUDE AI made a stab at it but was thrown by the word “comedian” and broadened the tiny specifics it knew about Malcolm into what it believes was a standard stand-up act.
Here’s an attempt at a comedy monologue inspired by the provocative, anarchic style of the late great Malcolm Hardee:
Good evening ladies and GERMS. Well isn’t this a bloody miserable crowd. You lot look more depressed than my ballsack on a cold winter morn.
I’ll be honest with ya – I almost didn’t make it here tonight as I found myself in a wee bit of trouble earlier when I got into a spot of bother trying to steal a boat down by the docks! Turns out “Grand Theft Water Transport” is more frowned upon than I reckoned it would be. The coppers these days just have no sense of humor!
Reminds me of the time I got banned from Margate for loosenin’ the bolts on the rollercoaster. They get so uppity about “public safety hazards” when all I wanted was to add some harmless thrills ‘n spills! Health and safety can sod off – bring on the danger I say!
But no worries – they can’t keep Malcolm Hardee down for long. I’ll always find a way to cause some hilarious chaos. I’m craftier than a fox doin’ taxes! Speaking of which, make sure to pay the taxman with plenty of counterfeit notes so you can afford more pints. Cheers!
Well, looks I’m gettin’ the hook already. You scared, stupid squares just can’t handle my riotous rumblings! I’ll be out back by the dumpsters if you prudes need more corruption. Until next time, remember to keep your knickers loose and spirits high!
exits with trouserless waddle
Nothing like Malcolm, though at least CLAUDE.AI tried…
ChatGPT just threw its cyber-hands up in despair and spewed out a generic cliché monologue…
Ladies and gentlemen, how are we all doing tonight? Fantastic, I hope! Now, let me tell you a bit about myself. I recently got a job as a scarecrow, but I had to quit. Turns out, I’m not cut out for it. I kept falling asleep on the job, and the crows started leaving Yelp reviews about my lackluster performance.
But enough about me, let’s talk about technology. Have you noticed how everything these days is smart? Smartphones, smart TVs, smart fridges. I bought a smartwatch, and now it won’t stop reminding me to stand up. I’m just sitting here, minding my own business, and suddenly my wrist buzzes, “Time to stand up!” I feel like I’m in a relationship with a fitness-obsessed watch.
And have you seen those self-driving cars? I don’t trust them. I tried to cross the road the other day, and a self-driving car stopped for me. I didn’t know whether to thank it or give it a driving test. I mean, if it’s going to act like a human, it should at least tailgate and honk at me for taking too long to cross.
Now, relationships. Anyone here in a relationship? Yeah? Congratulations, you’ve found someone who can tolerate you. I recently got a girlfriend, and she asked me what my five-year plan was. I said, “Survive the next five minutes without saying something stupid.” So far, I’m failing miserably.
Speaking of relationships, I recently got into an argument with my girlfriend about the toilet seat. She said, “Why can’t you put it down after using it?” I said, “Why can’t you put it up after using it?” We eventually compromised and decided to use separate bathrooms.
But let’s talk about the weather. It’s always a great British conversation starter, isn’t it? “Nice weather we’re having.” “Oh, yes, very unpredictable, just like my dating life.” And don’t get me started on British summers. We wait all year for a week of sunshine, and when it finally arrives, we complain that it’s too hot. We’re never satisfied.
Now, I know I’m not the most organized person. I tried to join a self-help group for procrastinators, but the meeting kept getting postponed. I guess even procrastinators can’t commit to their own recovery.
But hey, we’re all here to have a good time, right? So let’s raise our glasses and toast to life’s absurdities, the quirks of technology, and the never-ending quest for the perfect relationship. Cheers, everyone! And remember, if life gives you lemons, make a gin and tonic. It solves most problems!
So, at the moment, AI can make a decent stab at providing factual information, not always 100% correct. THREE STARS.
As for originality or even trying to duplicate original creative thinking, forget it… NO STARS.
You knew that already.
But I never claimed to be original…
I do wonder how long it will be before the (as he himself would have said) total bollocks that Malcolm was a fire-eating father of two sons who ran a floating Wibbley Wobbley comedy club in Edinburgh becomes accepted as fact through repetition, factual cannibalism and cumulative error.
Once AIs accept ‘facts’ from other AIs as facts, then AI will start to stand for Artificial Information not Artificial Intelligence…
The selling line is: “In the 1980s and 1990s, Anthony Irvine was a comedian and cabaret performer. His act was a little unusual. As the Iceman, he went on stage – to melt ice. But what happened next and where did he go?”
The documentary is co-produced by Robert Wringham and director Mark Cartwright.
I talked to Robert and Anthony via Zoom… Mark was elsewhere, possibly in Wolverhampton.
JOHN (TO ROBERT): Did you approach Mark or he you?
ROBERT: I was trying to promote the book and Mark has a YouTube channel where he interviews comedians and musicians. His interviews are very intelligent.
JOHN: Oh dear.
ROBERT: He likes fringe comedy so I thought maybe he’d like to interview the Iceman. And it turned out he had been looking for appropriate subject matter to direct a documentary. Someone from the fringe pockets of comedy. The book made him realise there could be a film in the Iceman.
JOHN: So what’s next? A Disney animation? You’re already doing a film of the book of the act. Disney could do an animation of the film of the book of the act, then do a live-action version of the animation of the film of the book of the act.
ROBERT: We do have dreams of getting our film in cinemas. We’ve just signed up Michael Cumming to be the executive producer. He directed Brass Eye, Snuff Box, the Toast projects – Toast of London, Toast of Tinseltown etc. His current project is Oxide Ghosts, where he shows cutting room floor material from Brass Eye and does Q&As. He’s very familiar with the whole indie cinema circuit.
JOHN: In the film’s Kickstarter appeal for funds, the selling line is: “How much permanence and success can we assure for this man whose entire act was about impermanence and failure? Back the film and be among the first to find out”… Isn’t there an irony about trying to be successful with a film about failure?
ROBERT:(LAUGHS) I’m aware of that and I’m actually concerned it will spoil the true legacy of the Iceman!
JOHN (to the ICEMAN): Is that a real moustache you have on there?
ICEMAN: Yes. Traditionally, I put on a moustache for all Zoom meetings.
JOHN: I hate Zoom. What is that thing you have?
The Iceman (bottom) with rubber duck, Tapwater Award and irrelevant pot…
ICEMAN: It’s a Tapwater Award which I won at the Edinburgh Fringe.
JOHN: Without mentioning ice once, why are you doing this film?
ICEMAN: It’s going to be a sophiceticated film. In the production team, there is quality and creativity and a seri-iceness of purpice. I think it’s an adventure that will give coherence and professionaliceism to the Iceman concept. So, late in the day, The Iceman is going to be distanced from the incoherence and chaos of the original act…
JOHN: (SILENCE)
ICEMAN: The core of it is based on the Melt It! book. So a lot of it is talking. But there will be an element of Battleship Potemkin, Luis Buñuel, Stanley Kubrick. There will be a lot of art involved and interviews with people saying they remember the so-called legend that was the Iceman. And the whole concept of the ice blocks living on will be part of it.
The question is: Will The Iceman outlive the blocks or will the blocks outlive The Iceman?.. Having a film might suggest the blocks will outlive The Iceman.
There will be touches of Federico Fellini and…
JOHN: Sam Peckinpah? It needs conflict.
ICEMAN: There’s Portrait of a Lady on Fire. Have you seen that? It’s about a painter painting a portrait of a model who didn’t want to be painted.
JOHN: Is there a car chase in it? You have to have a chase sequence. You could chase someone round the block. The ice block.
ICEMAN: (SILENCE)
The Iceman with duck, block of ice and a Melt It! movie poster
JOHN: When is it going to be finished?
ICEMAN: Well, due to public demand, I have been invited back to the famous art gallery in Stalbridge, Dorset – Guggleton Farm Arts – for an exhibition of my paintings – from 15th July to 14th August this year. I think the idea is we have a finale there where we film the public filing in to look at my pictures… and buying them… in cash.
ROBERT: There are strands. Old footage of Anthony doing the Iceman stuff. Interviews hopefully with comedians and artists. And it’s all going to come together with where Anthony is today, which is that he has been accepted into the Art world. The Guggleton Arts event will be a kind of a denouement.
ICEMAN: Because, as we all know, The Iceman is now a contemporary visual artist known as AIM. Hopefully we can get famous comedians to say: “Yes.. He was a legend.”
JOHN: “Was?” In the past tense. In order for that to work, you would have to die.
(LONG SILENCE)
ICEMAN: I’m painting a picture at the moment called Riced in Pice.
JOHN: Riced in Pice?… Ah!… Rest in Peace? Why?
ICEMAN: Because I’m thinking very much about mortality and Will the melting blocks outlive me? So I’m confronting death in this picture. It’s basically me at my own funeral. I’m not being morbid. I’m just toying with the idea of…a church made of ice blocks and… that sort of thing. Do the blocks live on in some form? They must.
The Melt It! Iceman movie poster
This is a serious film. I notice when you write these blogs with me, it’s always completely confusing conversations. I am going to answer every question seriously from now on.
JOHN: Why do boxers not have hair on their chests?
(SILENCE)
JOHN: You have developed from performance art into Art art. Are you now going to get more into movie making?
ICEMAN: I am going to stick to oil painting. But film is a visual medium and it’s quite exciting to see me slightly objectified. The film will include reference to the painting. I’m quite happy to have this parallel artistic life.
I’m quite interested in filming a block of ice melt for the entire duration of the film. Like Andy Warhol’s film of the Empire State Building. It maybe sound a bit naive, but I think there could be quite a lot of interest. It obviously couldn’t be TOO big a block or it might take 400 days. But, if you had maybe a day’s melt, I think there’s a film there.
JOHN: Surely, to become successful, all artists have to become bullshit artists? You have to say: “This is a representation of global warming. It is Art”, Then Tate Modern and the Museum of Modern Art in America will beat a path to your door and you’ll make a fortune.
ICEMAN: Well, I WAS the first green artist.
JOHN: Eh?
ROBERT: The idea that the ice is melting anyway. Once Man is involved, it accelerates.
ICEMAN: Ah!
JOHN: Ah!
ROBERT: Ah!
Anthony demonstrates the effect of Man on a melting ice cap
JOHN: Have you seen the movie The Iceman about a real-life killer who had that nickname?
ICEMAN: Yes, that’s rather unfortunate. I’m a bit worried that, when you Google “Iceman” this murderer comes up. I want my film to overtake his film.
ROBERT: Is he still alive? Maybe we could interview him in prison.
JOHN: It’s all coming together now. The ideal way to promote your film is for you to be dead. The Iceman kills The Iceman to promote The Iceman movie.
ICEMAN: I ‘received’ the title Iceman. I didn’t make it up: it was given to me.
JOHN: By whom?
ICEMAN: By all the other comedians of the time.
JOHN: What were you billed as before? Just Anthony Irvine?
ICEMAN: Yes. The film, in a way, is a tribute to the performance artist who disappeared and then returned as an artist. I think it’s going to be professional, which is in contradiction to my actual live performances. But, as you know, I’ve always had a very serious side. I have a feeling the film is going to highlight my metaphysical thoughts.
JOHN: No, I’ve not heard it. But you should record some songs to promote the movie when it comes out.
ICEMAN: I’m quite a heartfelt singer but I can only sing if I’m trying to be funny.
JOHN: As a defence mechanism in case people think you can’t sing properly?
ICEMAN: Possibly. I don’t know what the psychological reasons are. I can only sing to satirise the song I’m singing. That way it becomes quite moving and funny at the same time. Which is what a German woman picked-up on in Edinburgh. She stayed behind to say: “I loft yor singeen” and I knew she meant it, because I looked in her eyes.
I think what we’re hoping for from you is a serious blog. Is it an art film or a documentary film? I suppose it’s both.
ROBERT: I agree.
ICEMAN: I think the whole concept of the blocks disappearing and changing is quite deep. And that’s why some audiences follow me round going: “Deep!… Deep!”
I might even say something like: “Well, I have to go now,” and people will go: “Deep! Deep!”
JOHN: Anthony, why have you actually got a block of ice with you on this Zoom call? You are not about to do a performance. Why have you a block of ice?
Yesterday’s blog was about traditional Christmas paraphernalia and I said I thought hanging wreaths to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ was a rather bizarre custom.
My eternally un-named friend, though, told me about an even more bizarre tradition of which I had never heard.
She told me that, in Catalonia and some other parts of Spain, the holy Nativity scene with Mary, Joseph, the Three Wise Men and the baby Jesus in his crib traditionally also includes a man off to one side… erm… having a shit… Well, let’s be more polite… pooping…
I thought She’s ‘avin’ a larf but, no, my eternally un-named friend told the truth.
Caganer in a Catalan Nativity scene (image source unknown)
In Catalonia et al, ‘El Caganer’ aka ‘The Pooper’ is indeed, the figurine of a peasant to be seen defecating as part of the Christian Nativity scene. Traditionally, he wears a red Catalan cap and has his trousers down showing his bare bottom as he… erm… well… he is pooping.
According to Amics del Caganer (the Association of Friends of the Caganer), the Pooper is believed to have been included in the nativity scene since the late 17th or early 18th century.
It is something to do (it is thought) with symbolically fertilising the earth for the following year. Who knows for sure? Let’s face it, any explanation is going to be a little bizarre.
According to Wikipedia (so it must be true), in 2005, the Barcelona city council provoked a public outcry by commissioning a nativity scene which did not include a Caganer.
The local government countered these criticisms by claiming that the Caganer was not included because a ‘civility ordinance’ had made public defecation and public urination illegal, meaning that the Caganer was now setting a bad example.
A Caganer in the official 2011 nativity scene in Barcelona’s Plaça de Sant Jaume (Photo by Jordiferrer via Wikipedia)
Many saw this as an attack on Catalan traditions. One irate punter asserted: “A nativity scene without a Caganer is not a nativity scene.”
Following a campaign against the Caganer’s absence called Salvem el Caganer (Save the Caganer) and widespread media criticism, the 2006 Nativity scene restored the Caganer to the official Nativity scene.
Ooh! All this will make a slightly quirky blog! I thought. Very obscure. A pooping figure in the Nativity scene. Who knew? Very obscure.
But, no.
Apparently it just demonstrates my ignorance. There is loads of stuff online about El Caganer. There are articles all over the place over the years including, last week, a highly-illustrated one in the Guardian.
Unsurprisingly, the figurine of the pooping peasant has been commercialised (including traditional bare bottom and often a little pile of excreta beneath it).
There are squatting figures aplenty representing sundry politicians and prominent people.
The Guardian article features figurines of Elon Musk, Barbie, Benjamin Netanyahu etc etc etc.
Defecating figurines of the Pope, members of the British & Spanish Royal Families, local politicians and Donald Trump are also apparently popular.
Pooping figurines of the famous, including Homer Simpson, Vladimir Putin, Elvis Presley and the Dalai Lama (Photograph by Caganercom via Wikipedia)
Who knew?
Apparently everyone except me.
We didn’t have this Christmas tradition at the Scots Presbyterian church of my childhood.
Pooping peasants and dour Presbyterianism are rare bedfellows.
(Photograph by Glenn Carstens-Peters via UnSplash)
In my last couple of blogs, I asked AI to explain Einstein’s Special Theory of Relativity and Quantum Physics. In both cases, I think the clearest explanation was when I asked the AI to pretend it/they were an 8-year-old child.
It also reminds me of a chat I had when I was a researcher on programmes at London Weekend Television.
Another researcher and I had a casual chat about the sort of people we might be looking for on various programmes. We agreed, I think, on a couple of vague principles which might seem counter-intuitive.
The first was how to get a person who could explain a complex idea in a way that could be understood by the general viewer. Not dumbing-down in any way. Just being clear and enthusing the viewer.
We agreed that the person you did NOT necessarily want was an expert.
You did not want someone who had spent the last 30 or 40 years totally immersed in a subject to the exclusion of almost everything else. They knew too much. Their brains were clogged up with details.
What you ideally wanted was not an expert but an enthusiast – a fan.
The expert would long ago have lost the single original kernel of the enthusiasm which had started them on their long road to expertise.
What you wanted was someone who was still gloriously enthusiastic, who retained that original intellectual vigour, who wanted to make others as enthusiastic in the subject as they were and still are. They knew the key points which simply – KISS KISS – would reveal the bases of the subject.
The other type of person we talked about finding was a true eccentric.
The sort of person you wanted to find was NOT the life-and- soul of the party who made all the lads and lasses laugh down the local pub. Counter-intuitively, you do not want people who seem extrovert. Jack the Lad ‘extroverts’ just want attention; they have no depth of eccentricity.
Rather than an ‘extrovert’, you want to find an ‘introvert’ with rare or unique angles of genuine thought.
If you can find the right introvert and make them confident enough to follow their creative or mental tendencies, they will let rip and you will get real originality of thought which, really, is what is meant when you talk of someone being ‘eccentric’.
The perfect example of this was when I handled a regular item called ‘Talented Teachers’ on the anarchic children’s show Tiswas (an ATV, then a Central ITV, production).
I was told about Mr Wickers, a teacher who could roller-skate while simultaneously playing the harmonica AND the spoons. I talked to him and he was a lovely, quiet-spoken man who DID NOT have any great ambition to do this on national television. But I persuaded him.
Obviously, I had seen him perform the act to ensure he really could roller-skate while simultaneously playing the harmonica and spoons.
On the day of the live show, he turned up with his roller-skates, harmonica and two spoons.
But he also turned up wearing a bright yellow oilskin fisherman’s coat, a bright yellow oilskin sou’wester hat and a life-sized seagull which he had himself crafted out of papier-mâché.
The papier-mâché seagull sat on his bright yellow oilskin shoulder by his bright yellow sou’wester hat while Mr Wickers roller-skated round the studio set playing his harmonica and clack-clacking his two spoons together.
Mr Wickers was – and I say this with vast admiration – a true eccentric but quiet and not in any way a so-called extrovert.
The epitome of a certain type of Englishman. (I say that as a born Scot.)
When I went up to the Edinburgh Fringe for one night and two days last weekend, the crowds seemed to have returned post-Covid, though the flyering seemed a bit uninspired.
Mostly, the flyerers were just standing around, one arm outstretched, offering the paper leaflets with no real enthusiasm and often no sales pitch.
The exception was energetic, larger-than-life Leo Kitay who, in Bristo Square, would leap out, eyes popping, mouth open, hand outstretched, leg often in mid-air to passers-by, plugging his show How To Become Ridiculously Well-Read (in About 50 Minutes).
There was no time for me to see his show on my flying visit but, if there had been, I would have gone out-of-my-way to see it. No greater praise can there be at the Fringe. Leo is one to watch. Even if only to avoid collisions. He claimed to be at University College, Oxford, and to run a student theatre company in Oxford called Cops & Robbers.
Only saying.
Walter at the entrance to his Venue 710 …
One other visually over-the-top performer I HAD pre-arranged to see for a chat was American performer Walter Michael DeForest better known, perhaps, as ‘that man who does the van Gogh shows’.
A Fringe regular since 2016, he has been performing a non-van-Gogh stage show in the New Town this year AND has been running an open-door Street Art Gallery at the temporary flat he has in the Old Town. He created it as an unofficial ‘Fringe Venue 710’.
“That works great for me,” he explained, “because 710 is big in my story that I’m telling about squatting and escaping – 7 out 10 suicides are men.”
We met at the flat/gallery he has for the duration of the Fringe.
JOHN: Have you had interesting people wandering in here?
WALTER: Yes. One guy came in and he was just wandering round listening to people. I have a Visitors’ Book. He wrote in it: “Listening is a super-power. It is the only super-power we all possess. It is a super-power because it validates the person you are listening to.” So, yeah, interesting people come in here.
JOHN: And you are also doing a show at the PBH Free Fringe, called…
Walter wearing a promotional show cap
WALTER: The Best Worst Place You Can Be. It’s the first time I haven’t done my van Gogh show here, although I did do a private performance of it the other day here in The Street Art Gallery – £40 a ticket – one person.
JOHN: You look like van Gogh but, really, to do a Van Gogh show properly, you should chop one of your ears off, shouldn’t you? You have to suffer for your art.
WALTER: I have suffered for my art. The show I’m doing – The Best Worst Place You Can Be – is what happened in the last year when I was escaping domestic violence here in Edinburgh.
Last Fringe I got locked out of my house and I had to sleep in the streets while I was performing and the violence got too much for me. I talk about this in my show but it’s not really about blame or vilifying anybody, just that this happens and, if you’re ever in a relationship where you thought you had to record the conversations just because you don’t understand and everything is confusing, you… Confusion is a big part of it and your brain shrinks from being with a toxic person and you’re always… Cortisone comes into your body at high rates and yes… it took me seven months to start creating again. I was living on the streets in London and I was squatting at the TAA (Temporary Autonomous Art).
‘The jacket’: a multicoloured dream coat…
That’s where ‘the jacket’ started. Wherever I go with this jacket, it’s like a super-power jacket because every time someone signs it they’re smiling. It’s a jacket of smiles. These are all legends of the graffiti world and the underground world. Punk Kaf: she signed it.
Even though I was in a bad place, I wasn’t with bad people. No-one was manipulating me or wanted anything from me. I was going from squat to squat – and then I got a house in January this year.
My friend – who gave me this jacket – went to Australia, so I had a place that was just quiet and I started making phone calls. That’s a labyrinth too. You make that phone call then that phone call then that phone call.
(right to left) 710… Goggles… and Form paintings…
Slowly I started to create and I started creating the 7:10 series of pictures – 7 out of 10 suicides are men. I also met the guys who do Just Stop Oil… and 710 is OIL upside-down.
After the 710 pictures, I did the Goggles, which is a percentage.
And then the Goggles just turned into the Form.
JOHN: The Form?
WALTER: The form of a skeleton.
JOHN: And you ended up living in the van Gogh House at Colfontaine in Belgium. How did that happen?
WALTER: In 2015 I was doing a show on the New York Fringe called Van Gogh Fuck Yourself (van Gogh is pronounced Van Go in American English).
JOHN: (LAUGHS) Doesn’t translate into British English!
Walter/van Gogh in among the coal mines
WALTER: And I read an article in the Washington Post about walking van Gogh’s path in the Borinage where Vincent was a preacher in the coal mines. Then in 2019, we drove from London to the Borinage in a car painted with sunflowers and then we drove to Arles and so I had connections there and then in 2020 I come to the UK and I lived here 2020-2022.
Covid happened and everything got locked down in the UK and I didn’t travel at all until this year – 2023.
JOHN: How did living in the van Gogh house in Belgium come about?
WALTER: In 1924, they put a plaque on the house, but it was dilapidated. It was falling apart until 2015, when Mons became the European Capital of Culture for UNESCO. I was the first one to be able to live in the house for 30 days as the ‘artist in residence’.
Walter at the Maison Van Gogh
JOHN: Did you have to paint copies of van Gogh paintings or something?
WALTER: No. But I did my show in local schools for the kids. I don’t really copy van Gogh at all other than tap into his spirit when I do the stage show.
JOHN: His spirit?
WALTER: Van Gogh’s favourite colour was yellow. When Vincent talked about yellow, he said There is no yellow without the blue and without the orange. Your good friends bring out the best in you. This is what the colours do. It was a workshop in colours and friendship and being around positive people. That was a big lesson for me over the last year as well. Being with positive people really helps.
Someone let me borrow their electric bike and I was riding around the village with flowers and everyone was like “Monsieur van Gogh!” and waving to me and, if I was at the shop, the guy would give me some extra food.
JOHN: How’s the non-van-Gogh stage show going at the Fringe this year?
WALTER: In Edinburgh, if I walk down the street, everybody knows me as van Gogh but, in The Best Worst Place You Can Be, I decided to talk about what happened to me in the last year. With this show, it’s all the way down in the New Town so it’s a bit far off centre. I had six shows where nobody came, but it didn’t bother me. I also set up the gallery here in the Old Town, so I can sit and relax and have a safe space.
At the Fringe, the great thing is I’m surrounded by artists and I feel like I’m home again. You’re always meeting people from around the world and making friends for life. People who choose to live in this apartment, who choose to live with van Gogh are up for an adventure and a different way of seeing the Fringe.
Walter points to a Maison Van Gogh leaflet in his Edinburgh Fringe apartment
JOHN: What are you doing when the Fringe and your stay in this flat finishes at the end of August?
WALTER: I’ll be trying to find another place to live. I think I’m going back to Belgium for a festival in September. Ghent. The people are wonderful. They were really wonderful to me and kind.
But I want to stay here in the UK. I’ve got a Leave To Remain visa. I’m trying to set up a home in Edinburgh because I want to stay here for my daughter.
I’m definitely going to do something because I’ve been through hell and back.
In the summer of 1981, he was performing on stage off-West End in London as part of The Mad Show.
Another of the Mad Show performers was Anthony Irvine, who later developed an ice-block-melting performance art routine as The Iceman and who, more recently, became a painty-painty real artist as AIM.
The Iceman with ice and duck in London
Anthony has just shared some memories of Bob Flag with me. He writes:
I loved Bob’s helter-skelter act in The Mad Show. I used to admire his manic energy, both on stage and off.
In The Mad Show, his act included drums, music and a chaos that I related to. He had a sort of milkman sidekick on keyboards. I watched him every night of the run. Something about his fast-talking, almost serious, delivery got me – and the disintegrating drums, like The Iceman’s music stand.
I can’t remember if he participated much in the other antics in the show, like the immersion in the aquarium or the Japanese singing fruit group or the open bus trip round the Mall where Dave Brooks (of the Greatest Show on Legs) joined the soldiers at Buckingham Palace during the Changing of the Guard. He wore his kilt and played his bagpipes.
I didn’t really stay in touch with Bob after The Mad Show finished – my loss. But I do remember two particular meetings.
The first was a completely random meeting of 40 seconds when I got out of a northbound train at somewhere like Newark and there was Bob on the platform.
We both behaved as if this was completely normal.
Before I could say much beyond the pleasure of seeing him again years after The Mad Show, I had to get back on the train which was only doing a brief stop.
The second and last time I saw Bob was when I sold him a brand new baritone saxophone I had bought in East Germany before the Berlin Wall’s de-construction. The saxophone was very big in relation to him. He paid cash. It was in Leyton.
He came in like a man in a hurry to get elsewhere. It was a very good sax. He paid me in wads of cash. I was surprised how much money he had on him.
I had bought the saxophone in East Germany – possibly in Leipzig – with lots of East German Deutsche Marks that I had received. And, yes, I was big in the East before the Wall came down.
I blogged about Anthony a couple of times in July (HERE and HERE) when he was about to start an exhibition/clearance sale of more than 1,000 of his (AIM’s) artworks at a gallery on a farm in Dorset.
That exhibition/sale has now finished. The exhibition/sale was titled PEG IT! because a lot of the exhibits were pegged up in mid air.
Part of The Iceman/AIM’s multi-pegged art exhibition/clearance sale at the farm gallery…
He (Anthony/The Iceman/AIM) tells me:
De-pegging and dismantling the show was a huge physical effort because I had spent four weeks adding to/pegging up the show. Fortunately I had a team of customers – Jonathan, Liz, Dale – who broke the back of it.
While we were un-pegging, a local lady – Alison – appeared and chose eight pictures she wanted to buy. She kept going home to get more cash. She repeatedly kept having a new painting wish and going home to get more cash to the extent that I showed my concern about whether she could afford to buy them. This inadvertently became an unintentional sales technique.
I sold over 20 paintings on the very last day. As the gallery is a bit out-of-the-way, this was remarkable indeed.
A site for sore eyes: the waste recycling site
My latest project is to sell my AIM paintings at the waste recycling centre in Bournemouth.
This is very logical because people at Bournemouth’s waste recycling centre have just dis-burdened themselves and so have empty cars.
Stuart liked my idea of ‘recycling’ sales and latched onto the “performative element”. This gave me confidence.
The very next day I tested the idea on site at the waste recycling centre.
It did feel a strikingly original idea and the public intercourse that resulted was very funny.
There was some interest, some amusement plus some indifference.
Overall it was a success, though I can’t give any sales figures at this junction. I found the ‘performative element’ to my satisfaction: interacting with the dis-burdening public
Two recycling workers at the waste recycling centre had diametrically opposed reactions which, I think, encapsulated the experience.
One was very sympathetic and we talked about Egyptian art.
The other warned me that I was breaking regulations and I must be off.
I have also now got into film shorts mapping my artistic achievements. You can see them on YouTube HERE.
In the summer of 1981, Malcolm Hardee and The Greatest Show on Legs were appearing in London slightly off-West End (at the Bloomsbury Theatre) in The Mad Show – a collection of kinda eccentric speciality acts.
These included Anthony Irvine (later called The Iceman) who, at that point in his career, did an act where he crawled across the stage wearing a yellow souwester cape and Wellington boots, got up a ladder, put a chain with a hook on it between the two parts of the stepladder and picked up a bag. He then took a toothbrush out of the bag, cleaned his teeth, got down the steps and crawled off stage again. This took between 10 and 20 minutes depending on audience response.
It was a golden era of bizarre genre-crossing speciality acts.
Also on the show was musician/ performer/ actor/ comic Bob Flag (aka Bob Evans) with an odd act involving a saxophone. He had played with musicians like David Bowie, Ken Campbell, Thunderclap Newman and the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band.
In The Mad Show, he came on stage several times dressed in various Army regalia for mostly unfathomable reasons.
Three years later, in 1984, Bob Flag was the face of Big Brother in the movie version of Nineteen Eighty-Four.
His other film roles included the ever-so slightly odd 1986 TV movie The Madness Museum, which also included comic performers Ken Campbell & Marcel Steiner, musical people Den Hegarty & Edward Tudor-Pole and the admirable David Rappaport. All of whom, I think, appeared on children’s TV series Tiswas during my time there.
In 1989, Bob Flag appeared in the movie Cold Light of Day. He played the central character based on notorious serial killer Dennis Nielsen. Comedian Eugene Cheese played Bob’s father in the film.
Uncategorisable performer Tony Green aka Sir Gideon Vein told me yesterday: “I think Bob got Eugene the part – I turned down ‘third rent boy’”.
In 1990, Bob and his wife artist Takae Horton took part in The Flip Show, the pilot for a Gong Show rip-off which Malcolm Hardee and I produced for Noel Gay Television/BSB. Their act was fairly indescribable and may eventually see the light of day on YouTube.
Yesterday, though, I heard from the above-mentioned uncategorisable Tony Green aka Sir Gideon Vein.
He wrote…
I received an e-mail from Takae Horton a little before 3.00am this morning informing me that her beloved husband Bob Flag had passed away on July 31st. She contacted me from Japan where it is eight hours ahead. Takae was the talented artist wife of the Bob in question.
I last heard from Bob in April this year and was about to send him an e-mail regarding Tony Allen’s recent pre-wake.
Bob, was 92 in June, had been far from well and had been living in Japan for around the last 15 years. Takae is Japanese and together they set up The Marufuku Gallery in a small village high up in the mountains of Okayama Province – for them a dream come true.
I first met Bob back in 1980 or 1981 along with John Hegley – when he and I were doing a double act. At that time, Bob was running his ‘totally off the wall’ Krisis Kabaret. I recognised Bob as a ‘fellow traveller’ and we remained friends from that time onward. Bob always put 150% into everything he did.
If you wanted something different you were sure to find it in Krisis Kabaret. Comic lunacy/inspired madness on a high level. Refreshingly, it was far removed from the school of ‘look at me aren’t I clever and just possibly funny too?’
Bob was a veteran even then.
He had turned down an offer to get involved with Tony Allen‘s original Alternative Cabaret. Tony needed acts who had sets of a known duration then – but Bob always hated repeating himself. Spontaneity was virtually his middle name. An early manifestation was The Riot Squad back in the early 1960s showcasing Bob’s (he was Bob Evans then) talent as a saxophonist with David Bowie on vocals. Bowie’s onetime wife Angie was later to become involved with Bob’s ‘Krisis Kabaret’. (Do, if you can, get a copy of Bob’s lavishly illustrated autobiography Drumshtick published 2017 – although I fear this will not be easy)
Bob was also one of the comics who appeared on the opening night of Peter Rosengard’s infamous original (London) Comedy Store featuring Alexei Sayle and the (dreaded) gong in 1979. He garnered much praise for stealing the show.
Regrettably, Bob was never going to pave a career as an alternative comic. The fact that he was a fair bit older than everyone else at the time didn’t really come into it. It just wasn’t what he wanted – he was always a maverick and would always go his own way.
The ‘trouble’ with Bob as far as I was concerned was that he had just far too many arrows to his bow. He was a talented all-rounder and he wasn’t going to concentrate in any one area.
He was a talented sax player – his preference was for alto, though I thought he was much better on tenor. Bob was proficient on many instruments.
Among other things, he was a hyper-polyglot – he learned his wife’s language pretty early – no easy feat.
He was incredibly quick at everything he did. Sometimes I thought if he hadn’t been so quick he would have got the kudos he deserved – but I don’t think that worried him too much.
I fondly remember him inviting me to dinner many years ago in his immensely cluttered King’s Cross flat.
“But Bob,” I said, “there’s nowhere to sit!”
“Of course, there is!” he replied.
And …yes… as if by magic (Bob could often be magical) he pulls out a table from somewhere and in no time there’s a bottle of wine, plates of well- cooked food and seating for the three of us.
He could be a harsh heckler, though.
On one occasion, he heckled Norby West (formerly The Brixton Bank Manager): “How come you have so much confidence and so little talent?” (Norby was being deliberately naff).
He then preceded to drag Norby off the stage.
Even I thought it was part of the act. But it wasn’t.
Bob could also be humble, though, and was not above apologising.
Many years later, Norby told me Bob had contacted him regretting his actions that night. Norby had forgiven him years before anyway.
I would book Bob on a number of occasions over the years (and it was likewise). He was always totally dependable and an absolute pleasure to have on board. He will be sadly missed and my heart goes out to Takae.
Bob really was a rare one-off and I know this has been said about departed people countless times before but I have not the slightest hesitation in saying it about Bob Flag…
There are over a thousand paintings, all for sale. He is now halfway through the month-long exhibition and is living on-site at the farm/gallery.
His live performance act involved/involves melting blocks of ice in increasingly desperate ways.
So how, I hear you ask, is his new art exhibition going?
Well, funny you should ask. The Iceman – whose painting name is AIM – has just updated me. He says…
The Iceman points out that, as an artist, he is now called AIM…
It took a few journeys to get all the art works here – over a thousand – and a lot of physical work hanging them.
There are still lots on the floor.
I’ve been framing some from old frames, defining and professionalising the images.
This is my own assessment of the show at half point.
In all seriousnice, the show is going rather well and I am selling more than I expected.
The Gugg is not a traditional gallery as such but quite a lot goes on there. People go to events there (eg open mike music/pizza evenings on Thursdays) and I beckon them into the milking parlour gallery. Quite a few people come back more than once because of the sheer volume of art works. The most common initial response is: “Cor! That’s a lot of pictures!”
I sleep in the hayloft. It is very dark at night.
Skye, a woman who used to live near Crazy Larry’s in Chelsea (the venue of my first ever block of ice) has just moved into a house next door to The Gugg. On Thursday, she chose four paintings with which to decorate her bare walls.
In a video, The Iceman explains his performance art act AIM and its vital components…
Skye’s friend Charles just couldn’t get enough of AIM’s paintings that night and he waxed lyrical – eg “This is the most amazing fucking exhibition I have ever seen!” – to me without realising I was the artist.
He said the same thing in the morning… sober… when I met him at Dikes, the local independent supermarket.
Later on that evening he explained to me, during a sambuca session in the barn after a visit to meet Stalbridge locals in the local Swan pub, his technique of not vomiting when drinking to excess – incredible mind control – before rescuing Skye’s dog from behind a gate by pulling it up by the scruff of its neck and then relieving himself perilously near AIM’s art work. He recognised my painting of the post-iceterity block at Richmond Bridge because he rows on the Thames.
A man from Dagenham wants the opposing painting-post-iceterity Block at Gravesend.
AIM/The Iceman points to his painting of Gravesend
One of the best things that has happened has been visits from the local Stalbridge primary school: three separate visits from years 4/5/6.
They loved the art and chose their favourites and I got The Iceblock out of the freezer for them to meet. This is an extra long-lasting block because it keeps going back in the freezer after making an appearance and The Iceman does not shorten its life by his traditional means.
The Iceman did put the Block on his head and say “Ice-cap!” which bemused the children.
(IN AN ENDEARING, FASCINATING AND NOT UN-ECCENTRIC VIDEO ON YOUTUBE, THE ICEMAN aka AIM SHOWS YOU ROUND HIS ART EXHIBITION… HERE)
SO IT GOES - John Fleming's blog 