Somehow, impossibly, I got booked in for a set on a comedy show in a few weeks. I don’t want to imposter syndrome myself into oblivion here but I do think it’s important to note that I am not a comedian. YET.
But I’m trying? Apparently? Anyway, on February 21st I will be getting up and doing seven to eight minutes on the same lineup as a bunch of real deal actual funny people. To prepare for this I did a quick open mic last night with a rough version of some of the material I plan to do. Here is a basic overview of how it went over:
✅ Joke about gastric distress
❌ Joke about polar exploration
❌ Joke about my hometown
✅ Joke about my ex
Obviously the route with comedy is to go broad, broad, broad, but I’m a very specific kind of person which is a bit of a handicap. The hometown one I can probably chuck out, but I’m determined to somehow keep the polar exploration one in there. OR ELSE WHAT IS THE POINT.
The idea of performing standup comedy is really dangerous to someone whose performance history, like mine, mainly consists of playing live music. You mean I can just—show up—to the gig, nary a heavy amp or guitar in hand, and get up in front of the mic for only four minutes and people will laugh and clap for me?! No negotiating backline sharing or futzing with pedals required? The adrenaline rush and subsequent feeling of temporary triumph comes in, in my experience, to about the same level of self-fulfillment. As much as I dearly miss playing music, I’m lazy and don’t have a car anymore—so comedy it is, and comedy it shall be, as a no-schlep way to get my kicks.
This week in fandom
I have a new piece up in Polygon this week about how Twitter’s API changes have affected (or might affect) fandom culture on the platform! Nobody in the comments is talking about my very good (IMHO) assessment of why fandom bots are so important, so maybe you will appreciate it more if I pull it out right here:
Bot accounts are a vital part of Twitter’s ecosystem. Within fandom circles, however, they play a particularly important role. Whether manual or automated, bot accounts that post lyrics, screencaps, quotes, and clips are a manifestation of one of the hallmarks of fandom: the repeated encounter. Fans derive pleasure from experiencing the object of their fandom over and over and over again. Rewatching, yes, but also participatory acts like writing fanfiction and drawing fan art are ways to extend the encounter with the beloved canon — or as fandom scholar Daniel Cavicchi puts it in a 2014 scholarly article, ways to remain within “the performance frame.” Each hourly bot post is like a dispenser of a jolt of free fandom joy, reminding fans of their “comfort characters,” and sparking discussion and enthusiasm in micro-bursts of content.
This week in polar exploration
110 years ago today, Lieutenant Pennell and Dr. Atkinson (who were in love) released to the world the news that Captain Scott had perished on the way back from the South Pole.
One of the most interesting and undersung elements of the Heroic Age is how it was taking place during a turning point for communication technology. Scott’s last expedition was not equipped with radiotelegraphy equipment—hence the need to row ashore in Oamaru, New Zealand to send a telegram—but Douglas Mawson’s Australasian Antarctic Expedition, which departed a year later than Scott’s in 1911, did have a transmitter and receiver on board. Because of the limited range of the equipment, they had to set up and man a repeating substation on Macquarie Island.
The story of Mawson’s telegraph is a fascinating one thanks to the infamous saga of its operator, Sidney Jeffryes. He established the first-ever two way contact between the Antarctic and the rest of the world in 1913, but sadly his legacy was darkened by the fact that during that winter he developed paranoid schizophrenia, convinced that Mawson was trying to kill him, and was committed to an asylum for the rest of his life upon his return.
Shackleton’s ship Endurance, which departed in 1914, was equipped with a radio receiver but not a transmitter—it had been deemed too expensive. If they had been able to communicate with the outside world, perhaps the heroic saga of the expedition would not have unfolded in quite the way it did. I’m obsessed with this lengthy and amazingly detailed article about polar radiotelegraphy I came across, written by a radio enthusiast who takes Shackleton to task for not having properly equipped his ship. I love the internet.