The Final Solution

13thApr. × ’10

The Melbourne International Comedy Festival is almost at an end and so too is Dead Under Fluorescent Lights. For those of you who’ve come out to see the awkward face behind the awkward prose, it’s been a delight to meet so many of you. Those same folk also know that the whole point of the show, the message so to speak, is to quit your job if you don’t love what you do. So in order for my words to have any sort of weight behind them, I had to do the honest thing and quit my job. There would be no use in me spewing office epiphanies at the crowd if I was to trundle into work the next morning and sigh my way through the afternoon.

So what does that mean for the blog? I have no idea. I won’t be working with any of the characters that contributed to the success of DUFL, which is oddly bittersweet. On one hand I feel like shedding tears of joy and on the other I feel like learning how to breakdance so that I can do a victory pop ‘n’ lock through my living room. The blog will definitely stay around, but I think it’s going to evolve into the post office adventures as a writer and a comedian or it will simply have engrossing details of collecting unemployment benefits.

There are still 3 shows left if you haven’t already been to The Workers Club in Fitzroy. Tonight, Friday and Saturday – and then I shall get so drunk that I will prove my Grandmother right about everything she has said about my generation.

There’s also the People’s Choice Awards, not only do I get to shove the award all up in the grill of my Grandmother, but the people who vote get a chance to win a ticket to Montreal for The Just For Laughs Festival. Sweet deal. Just look for Simon Keck – Dead Under Fluorescent Lights to vote.

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  1. Bazoo
    Posted April 13, 2010 at 10:51 PM | Permalink

    What a terrible Greek tragedy. The end. Not your blog, oh no.

  2. Posted April 14, 2010 at 4:57 PM | Permalink

    Good on you for throwing off the shackles of serfdom and becoming the Jester. I look forward to reading the new musings of Dead in the Unemployment Line or Withered Behind The Typewriter whichever works out best for you. Come to Auckland Comedy Club sometime – I’d actually make the effort to go and see your show. Good luck and thanks for the wry laughs. Damn self-reflecting realities.

  3. Simon
    Posted April 15, 2010 at 12:17 AM | Permalink


    Don’t go. Please.

    Firstly, if you can observe human nature, write about it, and be funny, then you can do that anywhere. Although your initial source was your mentalist workplace (which is no worse than one or two giggle factories I’ve suffered in), just because you won’t be there does not mean you won’t be subjected to mentalists.

    Second, there is imagination. It’s a long time since what’s-his-name sat in a cubicle but his Dilbert creation is stil going strong. Who cares if it’s not 100% true? Since when did stand-up comics & authors tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?

    Also, we want to know what you are doing. By keeping on writing you keep up your contact with your current – and future – audience. It doesn’t matter that the name may become seemingly irrelevant: standing or sitting waiting in offices & shops under flourescent lights – while your life force ebbs away even faster than the minutes are wasted, but slower than your will to live evaporates – is not unique to desk-bound office workers. Just try waiting in the line for any government official to tell you “I don’t care if it was me that gave you form 41B last week but now I’m telling you to fill in form 41C instead.”

    When comedy stalwarts Mark Lamarr and Jo Brand do a stand-in together for someone else’s radio show, they end up talking shop. They get another comedian on with the intention of talking about the book / video / tour and end up teling us about starting out, agents, changing rooms, stalkers, being on the road, B&Bs, fake & friends in the industry and so on. Hearng about what goes on behind the scenes is fascinating stuff and is perfectly valid to treat is as material.

    If you keep writing online, you actually make it harder for others to pinch your material. “That bloke on stage pinched that; that story was on the DUFL site months ago.”

    The “Web 2.0 model” (whatever that is!) advises that if you give stuff away for free online, then people buy your material & pay to watch your shows. There’s thousands of people making a livin that way. (One day the music industry will realise that’s thir business model too and they should stop trying to prosecute 13 year olds for listening to their peer’s music collection.) If you cease to exist online, you cease to exist.

    By continuing to wite, you keep yourself in our consciousness. Then when someone says “What do you want for Christmas / birthday” we might say “Oh, I dunno. Oh, yes I do! That new DUFL book / video.” It was 20 years between me first hearing a bootleg Kevin Bloody Wilson tape at school and then going to one of his gigs in the UK and buying a T-shirt, a mug and one of EVERY CD has has produced. He also has a web site with free stuff. As does Weird Al Yankovich (”Don’t Download This Song” is, of course, a free download.)

    Lastly, you must not stop writing because I’m a needy scrounger. I spent almost all of 2009 out of work and increasingly desperate. Your site was one of those that helped keep me sane. Whenever I read one of your posts, it reminded me that being in work really is worse than being out of work. :-)

    Thank you.

    Please don’t stop writing.

    Don’t abandon us desk-jockeys now, just when you’ve given us hope…

  4. Simon
    Posted April 15, 2010 at 12:22 AM | Permalink

    PS. Please feel free to correct the typos in my post a few minutes ago. I am sober, honest!

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