Mr Methane and Phartman limbering up in Utajärvi today
This blog is written on Friday night.
Forget the Wimbledon Tennis Championships.
Forget that the England football team are playing Sweden in the World Cup at 3.00pm UK time tomorrow (Saturday).
Also tomorrow at 3.00pm (Finnish time), there is a far more prestigious and important event – the 2018 World Fart Championships at Utajärvi in Finland.
In a blog last month, Finland’s Phartman talked about the upcoming great day and now it is almost upon us.
As the excitement and wind builds up, special guest Mr Methane is settling in. This missive has just arrived from him…
Mr Methane and the Canadian CBC crew making an important environmental point in Finland today
Utajärvi is incredibly peaceful and civilised.
Today I filmed an interview and location shots with CBC documentary makers from Canada, including a 4k quality drone shoot.
Their feature-length documentary – Who Farted? is about global warming.
But, as this is boring, it is being presented in an entertainment format. They are billing it as “an environmental film… with a twist!”- Release next year.
The weather is good here – warm sunshine but mosquitoes.
The Championship starts at 3.00pm tomorrow with my Mr Methane performance to get everyone in the mood… and then we are away with the farting contest and finally the Awards.
We are staying in a vicarage in what seems to be a nuclear shelter with blast doors. I think all Finnish homes had these in the Cold War: basically a part of your house that locks down into a shelter should the Warsaw Pact and NATO kick off with a hot war.
My chum Mr Methane, the world’s only professional performing flatulist, flew off to Bratislava this morning to spread the fame of British farting. But, in July, an even more important trip beckons.
Mr Methane does not compete, of course – he is a one-off. But he will be hosting the Championships with Finland’s own comic book superhero Phartman played by Esko Väyrynen.
So, obviously, I Skyped Esko Väyrynen to hear more about it.
Britain’s Mr Methane (left) and Finland’s Phartman at the World Fart Championships back in 2013
Phartman performer Esko talked to me via Skype from Finland
JOHN: Your English is very good.
ESKO: I like to watch English police series like Inspector Morse and Lewis and Blackadder and that kind of thing. Strange British comedies are very popular in Finland like Jeeves and Wooster. I like British humour. I don’t know why. Dry humour. With Finnish people, lots of us like British humour.
JOHN: Clearly – because you like farting.
ESKO: Yes. But I do not fart when I eat food or I am eating at the table. It is not civilised behaviour. You have to hold the line somewhere. My mother told me: “Do not fart at the kitchen table or when you are making meals. You have to do it some other time.”
JOHN: Is your mother proud of you appearing as Phartman?
ESKO: I don’t think so. I don’t live for publicity, but I am not ashamed to be farting in public. It is fun for me. But I am lucky. I have two dogs. At home, I can always blame one of the dogs.
JOHN: How many times have the Fart Championships been held?
ESKO: This is only the third time. Five years ago – 2013 – was the first World Championships. One year earlier, in 2012, there was a Finnish Championships. I think this year will be the last time, though.
JOHN: Why?
Utajärvi is a small town with a big superhero (artwork by Timo Kokkila)
ESKO: It takes lots of time and resources and all of us are volunteers, doing it for fun. None of us get paid and it is a very small town, Utajärvi – 3,000 people. We don’t have resources enough – manpower, womanpower or money. Any money we get goes to the local junior soccer club. Even though it is humour, it is humour for good.
JOHN: How many people came to see the event last time?
ESKO: Maybe 500 local people. There was also another event – mud soccer at the same time – a Finnish Championship. Maybe 200 or 300 came to see mud soccer five years ago. We played soccer in mud. That is why maybe 500 people saw the Fart Championships – maybe. And maybe there were 20 people farting; just one woman, though.
JOHN: Was there anyone from abroad?
ESKO: The winners were from Russia. And there was one family from Australia. I don’t know if they came just for the contest; maybe they were in Finland already. I did not ask.
JOHN: Are you Phartman only during the Championships or you do other things as the character during the year?
ESKO: Only at the Championships. Phartman – Peräsmies – is a comic book hero. I am just playing Phartman at these events.
JOHN: Is Phartman like a Marvel superhero?
The original underground Phartman comic (artwork by Timo Kokkila)
ESKO: He is a different type of superhero. He is a former alcoholic and when he was walking there was some type of explosion when pea soup tins spread all over the place and Phartman got hit by one pea soup tin that was radioactive and he ate it and, after he ate it, he got a souperpower for farts and he uses his farts to save the world.
He is not a common superhero like Spider-Man or Iron Man. Of course, he is against crime and criminals but, most times, he helps people accidentally.
He does not know how to use his powers. Almost every time it is an accident.
Son of Fartman is now aimed at school kids (artwork by Timo Kokkila)
Timo Kokkilacreated Phartman and the comic strip appeared in Pahkasika – it means Warthog in English – a very popular underground magazine, from 1983 to 2000. It was very rare humour in that time. (Phartman was killed-off in the comic strip but) Phartman had a son who has appeared since 2003 in the Koululainenmonthly magazine for pupils in school.
JOHN: Do you have a daytime ‘real’ job?
ESKO: I work as a nurse at a hospital.
JOHN: What sort of hospital?
ESKO: I think it is not a surprise that I am a psychiatric nurse in a psychiatric ward – maybe that is one reason for my odd humour.
JOHN: You must be interested in the way people think differently.
ESKO: Maybe. Humans’ thinking is a very difficult thing. It is very hard work and maybe it is one reason I am interested in farting.
JOHN: Escapism, maybe?… In Britain, it seems that a surprising number of comedians have been doctors or trained as doctors. Maybe it releases the pressure?
ESKO: Yes, maybe… Also, always when you meet someone from Britain, you have to ask: What kind of weather is there? Is it raining?
JOHN: Surprisingly not. There is a bright blue sky with small white fluffy clouds. Hot and humid. Have you been to Britain?
ESKO: No. I do not fly, but it has always been my daydream to go by ship to Scotland and see soccer clubs – Rangers versus Celtic – or a Scottish pub. That is my daydream.
I stopped writing this blog daily at the end of last year, thinking it would give me more time to do other things.
Since stopping, I have had less time. Who knew? I am now seven un-transcribed blogs behind.
Almost four weeks ago, I had a chat with Mr Methane – the world’s only professional performing farter.
Around midnight last night, he texted me a message. Surprisingly, it did not say: Where the fuck is the blog your were going to write? Instead, it read:
“Quite stunned and saddened to hear about the death of Prince – an artist whose global success indirectly led to me appearing on the Howard Stern Show in the US.
“I made my first ever visit to the Howard Stern Show thanks to the hard work of Lenny Shabes. He was President of WATV. Lenny was a big fan of Howard and became aware of my alimentary talents while in London visiting his friend, artist manager and producer Steve Fargnoli – a man responsible for the careers of Prince and also possibly my biggest fan Sinéad O’Connor.
Mr Methane Let’s Rip opened him up to the US audience
“Steve Fargnoli introduced Lenny to my manager Barrie Barlow and, on returning to the States, Lenny sent a copy of my video Mr Methane Lets Rip to Howard’s producer Gary Dell’Abate AKA ‘Baba Booey’.
“Lenny followed it up with an astonishing 90-odd phone calls until Gary and Howard eventually caved in and watched the tape.
“Gary and Howard liked what they saw and invited me to the show where I performed a special rendition of Happy Birthday.
“The appearance was judged to be a success and was shown on Howard’s E TV & CBS television shows with Howard Stern proclaiming himself to be a huge Mr. Methane fan.
“This may have never happened if Prince’s Purple Rain hadn’t established Steve Fargnoli as a giant of music business management with an office in London.
“The law of unintended consequences strikes again.”
There is a video on YouTube of Mr Methane’s first appearance on the Howard Stern Show.
Last year, I wrote a blog which pointed out Mr Methane is related to the Queen of England and Thurston de Basset, Grand Falconer to William the Conqueror at the Battle of Hastings.
It now turns out that, as well as being related to Queen Elizabeth II, he is also related to Lord Byron. Genuinely.
When Mr Methane and I met again a month ago in St Pancras station, he was NOT going to the Paaspop festival in Holland. He had been booked to perform in a cabaret tent at the festival but then, for unknown reasons, the cabaret tent and all its acts were cancelled. They paid him half his fee and all his travel costs. So, instead of going to Holland, he took a train down from Macclesfield to London to celebrate what he called his “birthday we won’t mention.”
Mr Methane’s sister is still researching the family tree.
“Our grandma was Joan Byron,” Mr Methane told me, “and she married into the Bassets. She came from the Byron dynasty which used to hang out originally at Clayton Hall, where Manchester City’s football ground is now.
“We’ve got another grandma – Cecilia de Warren and her dad was the Earl of Surrey. She’s a connection that takes us back to the Plantagenets.”
“So,” I said, “your sister’s doing all this family research.”
Mr Methane wearing a Howard Stern badge
“Yes. She’s got a BA and an MA and she took the BA in Art History. Before she came out with her Art History degree, I used to think Salford Van Hire was a Dutch painter.”
“Wey-hey!” I said.
“I’ve learned a lot off other people,” Mr Methane continued. “Barrie, my business manager is in the music industry and I knew very little about that too. I used to think Dexy’s Midnight Runners was a laxative.”
“Wey-hey!” I said. “So what have you got coming up in your farting career?”
“I’ve got a very very secret thing that I can’t talk about in Finland.”
“And sadly,” I said, “you can’t do the Malcolm Hardee Comedy Awards show in Edinburgh in August because…”
“…I’m at the Dorset Steam Fair,” agreed Mr Methane. “Blowing my own trumpet. Then I’ve got to start writing the Mr Methane book. It’s going to be a long time in the process, but this year’s going to be the start of that. I think I need to leave a legacy. I don’t know whether to call it Behind The Behind or Life at The Bottom.”
“This will be your auto-blow-ography?” I asked.
“Yes, there will be loads of double-entendres in it,” agreed Mr Methane. “There’s something else I’m doing… I should write a list, shouldn’t I? But, being a performer, I don’t write lists, I just have things rattling around in me that come out.”
At this point, our conversation was interrupted by a text on his phone from a friend. It read:
A Belgian Shepherd dog shot not on the beach (Photograph by Ulrik Wallström)
Can’t get on the beach for sheep.
“That’s right,” Mr Methane told me. “A friend has got a couple of big Belgian Shepherd Dogs and the sheep graze on the salt marsh, so you can’t have big Belgian Shepherd dogs chasing the sheep, can you?”
The 39 Steps could let people take better shows to Edinburgh
One thing that increasingly gets up my nose at the Edinburgh Fringe is comedians who do not do stage shows.
They want to get picked up by radio or TV producers, so they bung in long pre-taped video sketches or pre-recorded sound recordings. All this makes me think:
they don’t give a shit about the audience and
they are incapable of doing a live performance
If you are doing a live show, then do a live show, do not make the audience sit and watch you do nothing while a pre-recorded piece of irrelevance plays.
There are exceptions to this, of course – notably the wonderful Juliette Burton (an ex-BBC person) who integrates extremely well-researched and shot videos into her shows and then interacts with them.
I tend not to review shows in this blog – it is mostly a blog of previews and interviews. But I am a Scot brought up among Jews so, if there are two free tickets going, I will always turn up.
Paul Merton took The 39 Steps yesterday
This is a prelude to the fact that, last night, the show I was invited to see was The 39 Stepsat London’s Criterion Theatre – obviously, a (comic) stage version of the feature film. And, ironically, it was a brilliant and flawless stage production which could only exist as a live stage show.
Anyone intending to perform a stage show based on material from a different medium – well, any narrative comedy show – should see how The 39 Steps had been crafted. The amount of tiny bits of visual stage ‘business’ is staggering. No wonder it won The Olivier Award for Best Comedy in 2007 and two Tony Awards in the US in 2008. It is a masterclass in writing and directing a live stage comedy.
The reason I was invited to last night’s performance was that it included a cameo by Paul Merton in aid of tonight’s Comic Relief.
And that ‘charity event’ label is enough of a tenuous link for me to mention that, also yesterday, I Skyped Amber Willat, one of The Dirty Girls, in Los Angeles. (The other Dirty Girl is Amber’s sister Harper Willat.)
Amber (right) and Harper Willat: Dirty Girls in California
The Dirty Girls turned up in a couple of blogs last week, when they contacted my farting chum Mr Methane about possibly performing at their Funny Farty Yoga Party charity event at Venice Beach which is being held this Sunday.
The Funny Farty Yoga Party starts with a laugh therapy session and continues with a ‘guided yoga session’, a Native American flute player and much else.
“Do the good people of Venice Beach,” I asked Amber, “need persuading that yoga is a good idea?”
Dirty Girls’ Funny Farty Yoga Party event ad in Los Angeles
“Californians love their yoga,” said Amber. “That’s for sure. But yoga has become such a hip thing that it’s become a full-fledged, multi-billion dollar industry. So we kinda wanna demystify the whole yoga world. A lot of people, when they do it for the first time are afraid: Ooo! What if I fart? and we wanna say: No worries. People fart in yoga. That’s why we wanted a professional farter like Mr Methane. But there are none in Los Angeles. When I looked for some, I just found guys on Craigslist who are fart fetishers.”
“There are fart fetishers?” I asked.
“There are a lot of fart fetishers,” Amber told me. “I was amazed to see the array of fart fetishers.”
“How did you become The Dirty Girls?” I asked.
“When my sister and I and some of our friends were in high school – like aged 13 and 14 – we were causing a ruckus on campus. They were saying: These girls haven’t showered in the last two years; they’re disgusting. And we kept fighting back. We went: Oh? You wanna see dirty? No problem!
“So we would literally come to school with like whipped cream in our hair and, instead of lipstick ON our lips, it would be AROUND our lips. We just wanted to completely like obliterate the status quo of feminine products and beauty and all those kinda things.
Harper and Amber in the original Dirty Girls documentary
“That was in the 1990s, before iPhones. We were just doing it because that’s what we wanted to do. But this other student kid, Michael Lucid. captured it on camera and shelved it as a VHS tape for 17 years and then, in March 2013, he digitised it and put it on YouTube just to show someone in New York and it leaked and just blew up (in hits) in days. We were called The Dirty Girls in high school. It was an insult then, but now we’re flipping it into like an empowered state.”
“And now it’s The Dirty Girls Project,” I said.
“Yes. There was so much outrage from lots of young women and adults and teenagers reaching out saying: Oh! We wish we had more dirty girls on our campus! You guys are so inspiring! So we thought: I guess there is a real calling for more inspirational badass girls that allow you to be who you wanna be. The Dirty Girls give you permission to be weird.
“And The Dirty Girls Project is this new multi-media platform where we collaborate and find more Dirty Girls and produce original content around them – an event, a video, an art project. Badass awesome content. We launched our website in October 2014.”
“The Funny Farty Yoga Party on Sunday is for charity…” I said.
One of Shine On Sierra Leone’s sustainable building projects
“Yes. It’s going to various women’s groups, local groups and to Shine On Sierra Leone: they’re an amazing organisation that has very successfully empowered the women of the villages. They’ve built primary schools; they’re building an elementary school; they’ve set up a whole micro-loan system; they’re teaching women how to run their own villages. An incredible organisation. So we are working with them too.”
“Why Sierra Leone?” I asked.
“I know it sounds far-fetched,” Amber started to say.
“We like far-fetched,” I told her.
“But,” she continued, “it’s based in Culver City, where we are and we’re very good friends with the woman who is the founder of it and we’ve directly seen the impact she has had.”
“You were born and raised in Hollywood and you live in Culver City,” I said. “When’s your feature film coming out?”
“We’ve put it on a back-burner. There could be two different approaches. One would be a documentary. Michael Lucid did the film in 1996 and then did a follow-up with us in 2000 and then he did a third one.”
“Are you looking to start a Dirty Girls chapter in London?” I asked. “You could have branches everywhere, like Starbucks.”
“We don’t go corporate,” said Amber. “No way. Evil! Evil!?”
You can see the original 1996 Dirty Girls film on YouTube.
The Dirty Girls in Los Angeles reached out to Mr Methane…
Another day. Another not-quite-enough-time-to-write-a-blog moment. So, a follow-up to yesterday’s blog in which international farteur Mr Methane had decided not to perform at The Dirty Girls’ Funny Farty Yoga Party in Los Angeles.
Mr Methane guessed (I paraphrase) that The Dirty Girls thought he was mad and therefore must live in Los Angeles. Whereas I myself can vouch for the fact that he is mad and lives in Macclesfield in the UK.
Dirty Girl Amber Willat, who is helping to organise the Funny Farty Yoga Party on Sunday 15th March, contacted me last night to say:
“Well, Mr Methane was right, I was sort of under the Everyone cool and eccentric lives in the Hollywood Hills spell and either figured or hoped he was ripping it up in Hollywood which, by the way, is across town – not down the street – and, in LA traffic, that means it might as well take eight hours to get to us.
Mr Methane has internal propulsion…
“We think Mr Methane should blow out of town (England) and get his butt over here for our event. Just hop on a plane and live a little! It will be an adventure. We will personally put him up, feed him, and entertain him for a week. I think Howard Stern could use another visit from him and I have friends with podcasts who would love to interview him.”
I had to tell Amber: “I suspect the problem with Mr Methane is the airfare to L.A. although, one would think, with his own internal propulsion system, he would not actually need an airplane, as you Colonials quaintly call aeroplanes.”
“Yeah,” said Amber, “I never once thought Mr. Methane would be using a plane. I never even considered there would be airfare! Darn!”
Meanwhile, Mr Methane himself contacted me to say:
“Richard Simmons – that’s his name – The celebrity LA fitness instructor who looks like Leo Sayer I was trying to tell you about but couldn’t remember his name. It looks like he’s going through a bad patch at the moment which I’m sorry to hear. The Daily Mail reported that the Los Angeles Police did a welfare check on the fitness guru at his Hollywood Hills home after a friend allegedly sent an email to the LA County DA’s office saying Simmons was 66 and being abused. The LAPD said he was in good health but had a slight limp and was depressed after a knee injury.
“Anyway,” Mr Methane continued, “while looking for fitted kitchens on Ebay I came across this ad for solid granite kitchen worktops fronted by Keith Harris and Orville.
Keith Harris and Orville like solid granite kitchen worktops…
“I can’t really get to the bottom of why Keith and Orville are on this advert. There is no reference in the text to give out any clues. In the normal world which most people inhabit, I suspect a bloke who was a Saturday night TV favourite 30+ years ago just turning up at your kitchen showroom with his hand inserted into the back of a green duck puppet would be a bit unsettling.
“I can only surmise that, as they live on the Fylde where this eBay seller is located, he’s a friend of the eBay seller… or Keith and Orville own a share in a Granite Worktop Fitted Kitchen Company on the Fylde. This is not impossible as Bob Carolgees (formerly starring on Tiswas with his hand up puppet Spit The Dog) owns a candle shop near Frodsham. So why not Keith and Orville getting into kitchens?
“Remember I told you Keith Harris sold a nightclub in Poulton-Le-Fylde to a chap called Elliot? Maybe he took that money and put it into kitchens. Though, if that’s so, I’m baffled as to who is the financial brains behind the business – Keith or Orville?”
Mr Methane performs Let It Go as a service to all the parents
Don’t ask.
I have had no time to write a blog today and I won’t before midnight.
Don’t ask.
So what follows is what happens when I don’t have time to write a blog before midnight.
Yesterday, I forwarded to my chum Mr Methane (the world’s only professional performing farteur) a piece which says that new research by the University of Exeter suggests smelling farts may be good for your health and may, indeed, prevent cancer. The study, published in the Medicinal Chemistry Communications journal, found that the hydrogen sulphide gas in rotten eggs and flatulence could be a key factor in treating diseases.
Dr Mark Wood was quoted as saying that, while hydrogen sulphide gas is harmful in large doses, this new study suggests that “a whiff here and there has the power to reduce risks of cancer, strokes, heart attacks, arthritis and dementia by preserving mitochondria.”
Mr Methane, a man with a high threshold of “nothing much happening here”, replied to my missive thus:
“Hope you are well. Nothing much happening here. I did a rendition of Let It Go from Frozen which has gone down really well on my Facebook page, I must have struck a chord with all the parents out there who are sick of it. It is quite an epic performance and includes some of the most powerful farts I have ever delivered.”
He then added, intriguingly: “I have had an invitation from The Dirty Girls to join them in Venice Beach, California, for some Funny Farty Yoga Party on Sunday 15th March. I think they possibly think I am another eccentric Brit living in Beverly Hills just down the road from Simon Cowell or Robbie Williams, as that is where all the eccentric showbusiness Brits live, it being the entertainment capital of the world as opposed to Macclesfield.”
The Dirty Girls in Los Angeles – reaching out to Mr Methane
The Dirty Girls’ invitation to Mr Methane read:
“We are creating a funny, laughter-filled yoga event in order to introduce yoga to skeptics and to the Los Angeles Girls’ Club. We would love to have some farts performed during the yoga session. Is there any way to partner with you for our event?”
Mr Methane’s reaction to me was: “I think the Funny Farty Yoga Party will have to blow into Venice Beach without me, which is a shame really as I imagined myself starting a new farting fitness based career like that American Leo Sayer lookalike who was always on Jay Leno doing his OTT fitness routines. I can’t remember his name but he was in a few movies as well: Beverley Hill Cop I think.”
As a result of reading this I, of course, got in touch with ‘Amber’ in Los Angeles, who is helping to organise the Funny Farty Yoga Party. She sent me a press release:
“Dirty Girls Project is a new media platform devoted to the promotion of empowered, badass women of all ages. We create original content, synergistic partnerships and produce collaborations (both digital and physical) around topics such as art, adventure, fashion, entrepreneurship – the bad, the rad and the weird.”
Brussels Sprouts High Five live!
Of the Funny Farty Yoga Party, the press release says: “The purpose of our event is to create a really fun, approachable environment demystifying the elite reputation of the yoga world… Dirty Girls Project is teaming up with ambassador Courtney Barriger from Brussels Sprouts High Five… BSHF has worked with The Midnight Mission, St. Francis Center, YWCA, Free Arts for Abused Children and has run a shoe drive for Kochi India.”
No, I have no idea what a shoe drive is either.
Brussels Sprouts High Five have a Facebook page which explains: “We are a volunteer army in the city of Los Angeles,” and exhorts: “Join us in the kitchens, the housing projects, and on the streets.”
The Funny Farty Yoga Party press release continues: “The event will kick off with a laugh therapy session to break the ice, then we move into a guided yoga session. The crowd will include a diverse group of people from all walks of life, to express that yoga is for everyone. We will have a Native American flute player during the yoga.”
I have sent Amber my Skype details.
I feel, as this all happens eleven days hence, there may be more news of the Funny Farty Yoga Party in this blog. And, indeed, more of Mr Methane. He tells me:
“I’m working on Boyzone – No Matter What – as my follow-up to Let It Go, It will be either a Fart Friday or Windy Wednesday upload sometime soon.”
The Dirty Girls’ video Jungles of Bitches is on Vimeo.
This morning, I received an e-mail from that ever-efficient farter Mr Methane. It said:
John, What an awful term ‘sneaky peek’ is but just thought that this sneaky peek promo photo may be of use on your blog as a lead up to my New Year’s Day Message as you start building the tension and anticipation of your readers.
I’m off into an internet abyss from later today until 5th Jan and only contactable by mobile phone.
As I had absolutely zero idea what my blog was going to be today – and still do not as I write this – I told him I probably WOULD use his photo and, indeed, I would include a link to his New Year’s Day Message To The Nation. Here it is:
The link is ‘Private’ at the moment, but the video will go live at midnight on New Year’s Eve. I have no more idea than you what it contains, but I admire a good bit of promotion and Mr Methane is an expert at blowing his own trumpet.
Soldiers express their grief over the 2011 death of the Dear Leader Kim Jong-il in the People’s Paradise of North Korea
Even more mysterious is how, in this day and age, Mr Methane can be off to an internet-free zone until 5th January (the late Malcolm Hardee’s birthday).
I can only think of a trip to North Korea, one of the few places on earth that has not experienced a wind of change since 1946.
Adam Taffler commented on my clothes (Photograph by Kirsty Burge)
… I also received a New Year message this morning from showman Adam Taffler – another great promoter – despite the fact this is only 28th December. Perhaps he, too, is off to North Korea? Certainly he, too, has a Malcolm Hardee link which I am not yet allowed to mention.
Adam wrote to me – clearly in an attempt to get quoted in my increasingly prestigious blog – saying that I am…
…the Samuel Pepys of the comedy underworld and innocent stirrer of the cauldron of comedy. In some ways you are like a follower of Boudica in an encroaching Roman era, one of a few who sees the wisdom of the ancients lacking on the telly box. An old school alchemist in a Hawaiian shirt who sees where the gold is.
Is it really Adam Taffler as a pervy Santa?
I think this translates as “You are an old fart who wears overly-elaborate shirts,” but I will take it as a compliment.
Adam also sent me a picture of (what he claims is) him as (I quote) “a pervy Santa”.
I have still not decided what to blog about today.
Life is an ongoing mystery.
But here is a teaser for the potential future movie Iron Sky: The Coming Race. I presume this impressive-looking film about Nazis riding dinosaurs will be, in some way, a sequel to the surprisingly good Finnish-Australian-German movie Iron Sky, which was about Nazis living on the dark side of the moon.
Happy 28th December.
The producers are currently crowdfunding the movie and, at the time of writing, have raised $422, 175 of their $500,000 target with eight days left to go.
I forgot until I switched on the BBC News after lunch and saw the Tower of London’s moat filled with the 888,246 ceramic poppies.
There are two unrelated posts in this blog today – about cultural events in Italy and Canada. It ends with poppies in Vancouver.
My farting chum Mr Methane has returned to the UK bearing a gift for me: a fridge magnet of Pope Francis – the only current world religious leader to bear a striking resemblance to 1980s British TV gameshow host Jim Bowen.
I mentioned in this blog last Friday that Mr Methane – who farts around the world professionally – was in Italy but I could not say why. This was because the Italian TV show he was appearing on wanted him to be a surprise for viewers and presumably they thought my increasingly prestigious blog, being widely read in Italy, might give the game away.
But now they have put the Mr Methane clip online on Vimeo, so I can tell you that, last Saturday, Mr Methane surprised the nation that gave us Punch & Judy and The Renaissance.
Mr Methane performed to an unprepared Italian nation on primetime television last Saturday night…
It was, perhaps surprisingly, Mr Methane’s first appearance on Italian TV.
“Did the audience know you?” I asked him yesterday.
“There was a buzz as I entered from stage right,” he told me. “The sort of buzz that tells you people in the audience know exactly what you are going to do. I think this shows that the power of the internet and YouTube over conventional TV is growing.”
“Did the Italians,” I asked, “react in any different way from other countries?”
“Well, it’s definitely different from Norway, Sweden, Finland, France or Germany,” said Mr Methane, “but its hard to say how exactly. It was certainly a more open, intellectual and civilised approach to the subject than Simon Cowell could manage.”
“I think the nice bit on the Italian TV show,” said Mr Methane, “was the ending. We managed to wheel out a few old jokes that may possibly be almost as old as the fart joke which, you will remember, Michael Grade discovered was the world’s oldest joke
“The set up on Saturday was:
Panel:Are You Married Mr Methane?
Me:No
Panel: I wonder why not.
“Then we all laughed hard at the razor-sharp wit of the judging panel while at the same time enforcing some social stereotypes and norms – a good thing to do on a traditional Saturday night family TV show and a good way of smuggling farting into the format.
“I was worried that the main host, Seniora Mara, might mess up on the cake routine as there had been no rehearsal but she positioned the candles very well for a first-timer. She seemed to have an empathy with what was going on. This could be because she has a degree in chemistry, but it is more likely because she is just an intellectual and open-minded European. I mean, could you imagine Amanda Holden being able or willing to pull that one off – She’d be worried shitless about her image etc etc etc.
Les Dennis on Cardiff Bay in 2010. Does he fart dramatically? (Photograph by Ben Salter)
“In the early 1990s Bobby Davro told me that Les Dennis (Amanda Holden’s former husband) could perform the art of Petomania. I wasn’t sure if he was pulling my leg but about a decade later I was working on a Sky TV show with Les Dennis so I asked him about what Bobby had told me and he confirmed it was true although he said he had not tried it for a few years and didn’t know if he still had the abililty.
“So, to be fair on Amanda, as she lived with a man who possessed the gift of petomania, maybe – just maybe – I’m being a bit harsh about her ability to be able to hold candles up to a man’s arse while he farts them out. But what happens in the privacy of a person’s relationship should stay that way, so I can only speculate using the information available and come to the conclusion that while such a scenario was possible it probably never happened.”
“Did you try to speak Italian on the show last Saturday?” I asked.
“I spoke a little at the end to say Thankyou to the viewers but, for all I know, I could have been saying: I want to fuck a dead hamster.”
“What’s next?” I asked.
“A French TV show about super heroes is in the offing,” Mr Methane told me. “We just need to see if we can work the money and travel – I’m hopeful we can do as I really like the sound of the project and they seem to like the sound of me.”
Pope Francis on my fridge with a picture of my home town
“Thanks for the fridge magnet of Pope Francis,” I said. “Have you ever performed for any religious groups?”
“No,” said Mr Methane. “Although I was once thinking of reaching out to that market by releasing an album of faith-based recordings entitled Touching Cloth. In the end, I decided not to as I respect other people’s beliefs and would not want to offend them.”
Meanwhile, yesterday I also received news from this blog’s occasional Canadian correspondent Anna Smith.
She told me: “I met an exceptional 23 year old man this summer.
“It was in a park on the waterfront in Vancouver. He was apparently from Dublin, but wasn’t. He said his name was Eddie.
“I know it and I hate it, he said, clenching his teeth.
On Pender Island, there was a man who disliked all furniture
“I met someone on Pender Island, near Vancouver, who reminded me of it. He hated furniture too – partitions, anything resembling furniture at all…. He ripped them all out…He did it to a caravan and he did it to a fiberglass motor cruiser – right down to the bulkheads. He even did it to a Boston Whaler. He tore all the seats out until there was nothing left but the hull and a shredded-looking steering column. Like a maniac, he steered it through the shipping lane across the Georgia Straight from Pender Island to Richmond standing up as if it was a scooter. He never wore belts or shoelaces. He thought they were bad for the circulation.
“When people sink boats deliberately I try not to become overly involved. I loaned somebody my axe once and I never got it back.
Anna Smith is thinking of a book
“Maybe I should write a book with nothing but isolated paragraphs like that I think I could easily write a short string of striptease stories as I have told them many times over, just never written them all down.
“People do seem to enjoy those.
“The places I worked in… Very strange.
“I once performed a striptease at a library in Don Mills, an affluent suburb of Toronto. And I broke my foot flying off stage into a crowd of uranium miners in Northern Ontario. I was happy that happened on a Saturday, because it meant I only missed two shows out of the week.
“People in Vancouver are taking their clothes off in November for no particular reason and standing around outside the art gallery. The naked people are doing it because they want children to have a future and they told me it was not a protest but a Vigil for Vulnerability.
The Man in The Lego Mask & cape (Photograph by Anna Smith)
“I took photos.
“The man with the Lego mask and cape is Simon Leplante.
“He said he had made 50 of the Lego and chicken foot masks and given 48 of them away, mainly to women artists. He told me that he had performed a dance recently at a downtown nightclub and left the stage strewn with tiny bits of Lego.
“Outside the art gallery, the naked vigil enlivened the afternoon for a street vendor selling tourist trinkets. He shouted:
“You gotta LOVE the art gallery!
The Vancouver Vulnerability Vigil (Photograph by Anna Smith)
“The Vulnerability Vigil was originated by a woman from Victoria, British Columbia. The man in the photo with the tattoos is an art school model. They were very friendly and appreciative that I took many photos with their own cameras.
“Then a burly young security guard emerged from the art gallery but he did not call the police nor ask them to clothe themselves. He merely asked if they could move to a spot slightly to the west, as he said they were too close to the gallery restaurant.
“So they did.
“After I paid my phone bill I went to the library. There was an information fair outside the library where activists were promoting a movie about peyote and handing out stickers of opium poppies to remind us of the victims of all the wars.”
After Jihadi John and that old Taliban bloke the name of whom everyone has now forgotten, he must be one of the most wanted (by some) men in the world. Last week, I also saw actress Linda Thorson reminisce at the Cinema Museum in London about her days on cult TV series The Avengers.
So should I blog about Edward Snowden or Linda Thorson or what my chum Mr Methane did in Manchester last Thursday?
A tough call?
Not at all.
The glamour world of Mr Methane with some fans
My chum Mr Methane has been farting around the world most of his career. He is the world’s only professionally-performing flautist – a farter to you and me. He became a cult in Sweden, Japan and elsewhere. He is also quite liked in France.
In November 1994, he was a guest on the French TV show Nulle Part Ailleurs (1990–2001) at the request of host Antoine de Caunes who had seen Mr M featured earlier that year on a celebrated French documentary series called Oeil Du Cyclone.
This consequently led to numerous appearances on the British Channel 4 series Eurotrash, which Antoine presented.
At the weekend, Mr Methane told me this: an insight into the glamorous daily life of an international flatulist:
Last Wednesday, I got a call from Antoine’s current Canal Plus TV show in France – Le Grand Journal – to ask where I was on Thursday as they were doing a Nulle Part Ailleurs celebratory show on Friday and they wanted to send a cameraman over to the UK to film a short message from me – with a fart scene at the end of course.
Mr Methane in his former guise in a train at Crumpsall station
As luck would have it, I was due to be in Manchester for a works reunion of former and current British Rail staff. (Yes, Mr M used to work for BR.) So Le Grand Journal booked a meeting room at the SAS Radisson hotel, Manchester Airport, flew a cameraman in from Paris, I diverted to the airport and we shot the scenes there.
I missed the British Rail reunion because, after the filming, I took David the cameraman to the Manchester United stadium tour at Old Trafford and, by the time I had made sure he could get on the tour and navigate his way back to the airport OK, it was a little late for the reunion.
So I went to the Dickies store in the Lowry Mall near Media City and bought some shirts and a jacket. The jacket was reduced to a fiver: an unbelievably good deal.
Dickie’s highly esteemed Store in Manchester
Maybe I should have gone and done some more hedonistic showbiz stuff – hookers and cocaine or somesuch – but that’s not really my thing. An unbelievable bargain from the Dickies store in the Lowry Mall is definitely more my thing. But, if that hadn’t done it for me, then I might have nipped over to the Blue Peter Garden near the Media City MetroLink tram stop and had a selfie with the statue of Petra the dog.
Talking of celebrity statues, a 32 year old bloke was arrested in Morecambe today for sawing Eric Morecambe’s leg off.
Me and Eric on the seafront in happier days (Photograph by M-E-U-F)
The local council has now removed the statue. I am not sure how they will repair it and whether the original sculptor Graham Ibbeson, will be involved. It is a real shame, as it is a great sculpture. He really nailed that one. It is a much better likeness than his Les Dawson statue near Lytham St Annes pier, which somehow isn’t quite right – or at least that’s what me and Charlie Chuck thought when we went to look at it on the way home from Ken Webster’s wedding reception at the HorseShoe Bar in Blackpool Pleasure Beach.
I’ve been back there a few times since on my own and for some reason he just hasn’t nailed Les like he’s nailed Eric, its fascinating as I can’t quite put my finger on why.
Eric’s statue took him six years and Les was six months so maybe that’s the reason but you can’t believe everything you read in the press. His Laurel & Hardy statue in Ulverston is very a good likeness.
The clip of Mr Methane on Le Grand Journalis online. Afterwards, they sent him an e-mail: “Just to let you know that the show went well last night. You stole the thunder.”
Mr M congratulates the show from the depth of his heart
Mr Methane prepares to perform on The Gadget Show with cameramen Rob Shaw and Mark Tredinnick of Mediadoghire.
“According to some factoids that ran during my recent appearance on Channel 5’s Gadget Show, the average person passes wind 15 times a day,” Mr Methane told me last night.
I was staying overnight with the world’s only professionally-performing farter at his home in Macclesfield, north west England.
“I had to road-test these anti-flatulance underwear pants on The Gadget Show,” he told me. “they were called My Shreddies. They’re quite trendy: they look like Calvin Klein underpants.”
“Who wears them?” I asked.
“The marketing people aren’t going for the traditional person who might be ‘going off’ (in farting terms) all over the place because their arse muscles have packed up. They’re trying to attract a normal person who is going out on a date and doesn’t want to fart in case it ruins the romance. They can pass wind in confidence. There will be no smell.”
“And they stop the sound of the farting?” I ask.
“No,” admitted Mr Methane.
“So what,” I asked, “is the fart-combatting element in the underpants?”
Image from My Shreddies homepage aims to appeal to buyers
“Some kind of charcoal,” said Mr Methane. “I think if you’ve ‘gone off’ in them a few times, once you wash them, it reactivates the odour-eating properties. The My Shreddies people seemed to be over-awed by the amount of publicity they got from me being on The Gadget Show. They got in touch with me and had some promotional ideas. They were going to make a pair for me in purple and were going to have a picture of me on a train – because I used to be an engine driver. I asked for a very economical fee. But they said I was a bit beyond their budget. It is a classic example of the way people put no value into farting.”
“So you farted and parted,” I said.
“We did,” said Mr Methane. “A few years ago, some company wanted me to do a viral ad for some charcoal biscuits which, again, were anti-flatulence.”
“Did you eat them or stick them somewhere?” I asked.
“You ate them,” said Mr Methane, “and they obviously did something in your intestines. I’m not sure what. Anyway, this guy wanted to do a viral ad so I said: Give us £1,000. That’s not a lot of money for a viral ad. They said they were a small firm, but £1,000 is only £20 a week for a year. If they can’t put away £20 a week for a year, they don’t deserve to be in business. So that didn’t happen either and I’m still open to offers. I think, in terms of doing a viral ad, you’ve only got one chance. Once my bottom is endorsing a particular product, that’s it.”
“British Gas should approach you,” I suggested.
Instructions on how to use The Palm Bomber in reality
“The only thing I have done as a viral ad,” said Mr Methane, “ended up a real bum deal. It was for the Palm Bomber. You know like when people used to fart in their hands at school and throw it at their mates?”
“I think,” I said, “maybe this only happened at schools in Macclesfield.”
“It’s obviously happened in America too,” said Mr Methane. “He’s an American, but his father came from Manchester in England. He spent a load of money making this Palm Bomber thing like a medical pump. Basically, you break wind, you suck up the fart into this rubber surgical container and then you go up to your friend and you ‘palm bomb’ – you squeeze out the fart into his face. It’s on YouTube. (He turned to his computer.) Here it is. Here’s the selling line:
“It is the world’s first and only product that is designed specifically to capture, store and re-release your farts. A patent-pending vacuum-funnel system which easily allows you to capture your farts anytime anywhere with minimal gas leakage.
“This guy had gone to China to get these things made and then had a shitload shipped from China to the US.
“I did an advert for him on YouTube. I did it as a favour. It was one of those mad moments. He said I can’t afford any money, but my dad’s got a paper for ex-patriots in America and I’ll put an advert for you in his paper and blah blah, but he never put it in. It’s just a classic case of people taking the piss.”
“I’m surprised,” I said, “that you haven’t been picked up for some ad campaign.”
“Years ago,” said Mr Methane, “I did a Christmas gig for Saatchi & Saatchi and my manager Barrie kept in touch with one of the big cheeses there and said: I want you to get Mr Methane an advert. You remember that series of Fosters lager ads? – He who drinks Australian thinks Australian. Barrie had this idea of me going into a bar, farting and it empties the bar and then I get my pint of Fosters and the slogan is: He who thinks Australian stinks Australian.”
“I’m surprised they didn’t use it,” I said then, changing the subject: “You haven’t issued a Christmas CD for ages.”
Mr Methane’s professionally produced CD
“The bottom’s dropped out of the market,” said Mr Methane. “It has to be MP3s now. And Barrie’s a perfectionist. The amount of time that we put into the orchestration of the songs… the actual production costs are quite high. On the last one, a lot of the guitar work was done by a very famous producer who worked with Britney Spears; he did it under a pseudonym. And, on the track Fucking Hell, My Arse Smells (to the tune of Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells), we got the fiddle-player out of Steeleye Span. He happened to be visiting Barrie who told him he had a country music track and he needed country fiddle on it. I don’t know if, even now, he knows he’s on the album.”
“So no planned albums?” I asked.
“No, but my personal fart greetings are going well.”
“Ring tones?” I asked.
“No, I do a video and send it to them. I’ve done three this last week. I did one for a guy who’s retiring from a big American symphony orchestra. It’s going to be a gift to him from the horn section. I do a trumpet piece from Brahms’ Concerto for Something-or-other No 1.”
“And,” I said, “you have a prestigious gig coming up that we can’t talk about because you had to sign a confidentiality agreement. What do we say in my blog?”
“Say it’s for ‘old money’,” suggested Mr Methane. “The British aristocracy.”
“We can’t mention,” I said, “the family name, the location or why this is so jaw-dropping, except you did the same thing 16 years ago.”
Mr Methane sits on his toilet wearing an Alan Partridge mask last night – Don’t ask me why.
“I’m a sort-of semi-regular customer of the British aristocracy,” said Mr Methane. “You’ve been there yourself.”
“I suppose I can say I went with you to a house in Central London 16 years ago.” I said.
“You went to a large, private house,” suggested Mr Methane.
“Well,” I said, “it was quite a small place, but I think it cost £20 million.”
“You can say,” suggested Mr Methane, “it’s not yer new money Simon Cowell classes, not yer footballers or yer Piers Morgans; it’s the aristocratic backbone of Britain. People who know what made Britain great.”
“Any more TV?” I asked.
“I’ve was asked to do that Come Dine With Me TV show. I thought at first it was the celebrity edition, but then it turned out it was just a normal one and they were looking for fruitcakes. They wanted someone from Macclesfield who was a little bit different. When I found out it wasn’t the celebrity one and I wasn’t going to have dinner with Keith Chegwin, I lost interest. They said: For some reason, we’ve got a dearth of applicants from Macclesfield and we don’t know why.”
“Who does live in Macclesfield?” I asked.
“Apart from one or two Manchester United players,” said Mr Methane, “there’s Christine & Neil Hamilton – they live at Alderley Edge. And Tim Healey off Auf Wiedersehen, Pet drinks at a pub in Fulshaw Cross. Mike Yarwood used to live in Prestbury. And Noddy Holder lives in Prestbury.”
Noddy Holder in 1981 (Photograph by Andrew King)
“Noddy Holder???” I asked, “I assumed he lived in some London mansion on the back of royalties from Merry Christmas Everybody.”
“No, he lives in Prestbury, because you sometimes see him in Sainsbury’s supermarket doing his shopping. My mate saw him last year at the Senior Citizens Hall on Duke Street, going to a jumble sale.”
“Are you sure this wasn’t a Noddy Holder lookalike?” I asked.
“No. He was at the jumble sale at Senior Citizens Hall.”
“What was he wearing?”
“My mate reckoned he might have been looking for stacker boots.’
“What did he look like?”
“Like Noddy Holder, but a bit older.”
ADDENDUM
Four days after this widely-read blog appeared, Mr Methane got an e-mail from the Palm Bomber, saying:
I won’t get into details – we’ll call it miscommunication – but the bottom line is that I did not fulfill my end of the agreement, and I’d like to make up for it. I’ve attached the last draft of the print advertisement I’d sent to you – is it still OK to print in the UJ newspaper?
Also, just so you know – we did run a couple Mr. Methane videos and links to your website in the Union Jack Blab (the online newsletter)…hopefully brought some viewers/fans your way. I’ll forward you the emails shortly…
I didn’t intend to take the piss out of you, I think you are a genuine person and I fancy myself the same. Hope you’re happy with what we’re doing.
SO IT GOES - John Fleming's blog 