#83: From Penarth Pier to the Acropolis
Happy Friday!
The Foiled recordings last weekend went down an absolute storm (see above cast photo). In the memorable words of one superfan: 'That made Series 1 sound shit.' And I couldn't agree more fervently.
Probably my favourite moment of the whole weekend was the read through before what will become Episode 2. Sitting across from the exquisite Miles Jupp as he transformed my words into actual live comedy is something I will never forget - barring a governmental lobotomisation programme or degenerative brain disease.
Foiled will be broadcast throughout the month of August, on Radio Wales and online. So no excuses for not ROFLing along.
But that's old news and I'm already in the final throes of preparation for The Next.
Last year, I made the fatal mistake of having no succession plan, post-Foiled. Instead of doing Life, I basically disappeared into a black hole for about 5 months trying to figure out what one does when one isn't sitting in front of a computer trying to make a hypothetical audience laugh.
This time, no such strategic errors. On Wednesday I am booked on a Eurostar to Paris, the first stage in a 2,000 mile journey over land and sea to Athens. My plans are loosely held, but I envisage spending 3-4 weeks in Attica, casting my eye over the refugee Situation.
So I hope that, from next week, you lucky recipients of my missives shall be reading stories of keen interest and international import.
I shall certainly be visiting Khora, the refugee community centre for whom I am still raising funds (ahem). I recently heard that they're having to move home, so hopefully I'll have a chance to help out on the ground and see where all our money is going.
My next email will come from somewhere on the road between Paris and Athens, insh'allah. Perhaps even from a wave upon the Adriatic Sea. Until then - keep a clean nose.
>> INPUT
'We need human interaction': meet the LA man who walks people for a living
SUPERB JOB IDEA @ $7 per mile:
“Don’t want people to see you walking alone and just assume you have no friends? Don’t like listening to music or podcasts but can’t walk alone in silence, forced to face thoughts of the unknown future, or your own insignificance in the ever expanding universe?”Arevo produces 3D printed commuter bike using Hexcel carbon fibre material
"The collaborators were able to produce this bike in fewer than 18 days, instead of the eighteen months it traditionally takes."Frankie Boyle's New World Order (TV)
I get almost all of my news from comedians now. Might as well go direct to the experts in observations of the human condition, I say. This programme shows off Frankie Boyle's humane brutality and features regular bon vivants Miles Jupp and Sara Pascoe.The dinosaur-killing asteroid that struck Earth was unbelievably huge and fast
"a rock larger than Mount Everest hit planet Earth traveling twenty times faster than a bullet"
OUTPUT >>
As you may have noticed, this mailing list is the engine room of my blogging. Here's some you might have missed:
...COMING UP...
IMMEDIATELY: Chucking a Frisbee around in the park.
TOMORROW: A reunion.
TUESDAY: The Psychedelic Society's Psychedelics for Mental Health campaign launch in London.
WEDNESDAY: Paris, Milan, the Adriatic and beyond!
Now On: The Victor Frankl 5-a-day Book Club!
Membership Criteria: Read 5 pages a day of Man's Search for Meaning to complete the whole darn text in only 28 days. I'll be tootling through the text at just 5 pages a week, so you've got plenty of time to catch up.
Day 9, p50-55
The prisoners' inner life was so important to their survival, whether it was the mundane nostalgic memory of catching the bus or answering telephone, or the sublime sight of the setting sun through the tall trees of the Bavarian woods.
After admiring such a sunset, one prisoner said to another: 'How beautiful the world could be.'
Victor Frankl had a moment of transcendence while digging a trench at dawn. He was conversing silently with his wife and struggling to find the reason for his sufferings.
'[F]rom somewhere I heard a victorious "Yes" in answer to my question of the existence of an ultimate purpose. At that moment a light was lit in a distant farmhouse ... - and the light shineth in the darkness. ... More and more I felt that she was present, that she was with me ... Then, at that very moment, a bird flew down silently and perched just in front of me, on the heap of soil which I had dug up from the ditch, and looked steadily at me.'
As well as nature, art played a role in alleviating the misery of the camp. There were improvised cabarets with songs, poems and jokes, and one prisoner sang Italian arias at lunchtime and was rewarded with a double helping of soup 'straight "from the bottom" - that meant with peas!'
Humour was also a useful tool in the battle to overcome the meaninglessness of life in the concentration camp, giving prisoners 'an ability to rise above any situation, even if only for a few seconds'.
Frankl tells the story of when a simple round of applause helped him curry favour with the camp's most dreaded capo.
'The Murderous Capo entered the room by chance, and he was asked to recite one of his poems ... I bit my lips till they hurt in order to keep from laughing at one of his love poems, and very likely that saved my life. ... It was useful, anyway, to be known to The Murderous Capo from a favourable angle. So I applauded as hard as I could.'
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Share your thoughts by replying to this email, or adding to the comments on my blog. We will continue next week...
Much love,
- dc
CREDITS
David Charles wrote this. When not writing this, David is gallivanting and will be talking to refugees in Greece. He also co-writes BBC Radio sitcom Foiled, does copywriting for The Bike Project and is almost always available for work. davidcharles.info // @dcisbusy
Justin Peters does things with photos. Via Kottke.org