The physiognomy of literary authors #4

Look at those eyes. Those are the eyes of someone who has been persecuted, of someone who is terrified.

And indeed, we do know that Kafka was persecuted and terrified. We know that from his writing and we know that from his biographical information (of course, Kafka has one of the most documented biographies). We know about his relationship with his father, of his doomed romances.

We know from his stories that he wrote about arbitrary persecution, about nebulous authoritative bureaucracies. He foreshadowed the terrifying totalitarianism of the Nazis and the USSR.

And we can tell that when we look at him. This is a petrified individual, someone who is afraid to talk. This is someone who is constantly toils. Indeed, he embodies the horrible cliche that a writer must suffer for his art.

Was Kafka precognitive? Do his eyes foresee Auschwitz, show trials, gulags and Hiroshima? Is his petrified state the perfect analogy for the horrors of the 20th century?

The physiognomy of literary authors #3

Borges is a blind author, which sounds like a paradox. Surely he can't write and read without sight? Surely he must write in braille. Well, he never learned braille, he would dictate his writing to his amanuenses.

Borges lost his eyesight when he was younger (but then, so did Milton and Joyce), a tragic predicament for such a learned and passionate reader. He had read thousands of thousands of book - indeed, when critics write about him, they always stress his reading. He read books that no-one read anymore, such as classics, medieval, Renaissance writing - you name it. His erudition was vast.

But can we tell that when we look at him? Indeed we can. We can tell that beyond his blind eyes, his mind is buzzing with his learned erudition. His mind is buzzing with copious libraries, labyrinths, parallel corridors, roaming tigers, infinite universes and infinite libraries.

We can tell this because he smiles and he is full of wonder. These images circle his mind again and again. He retains the same curiosity and imagination that he had as a child. The world for his is one continuum - the bird that he saw as an eight year old is still with him. Everything is a manifestation of the same Will.

And, although he is old, he is the still the same young person that he once was. Everything is always for Borges.

The physiognomy of literary authors #2

When we look at Paul Auster's eyes, we can tell that he is earnest. Although he is sometimes called a 'post-modern' author, that ambiguous term suggests that he is an ironic trickster. As it happens, Auster is not ironic. He means what he says. He claims that you do not choose to become a writer, it chooses you. He always wanted to be a writer with a capital W. He really wanted a black-and-white photograph taken of himself, with a cigaratte, a black cup of coffee, next to a typewriter and copious pages.

We can ascertain this when we look at him. His eyes tell us he is earnest, as does his dress code. He sometimes wears leather jackets, but he wears typical writer's attire. This is not the expression of a trickster.

When his writing becomes convoluted, when he takes us on parallel narratives and digression, that's just how it goes. No hidden message. No message about the unreality of the world. See, Auster tells us that, when he tells the story, that's where it takes him. Again, the writing chooses you.

And when we look at Auster, he means what he says. It is not artifice. It is not irony. It is not meta. This is a man who really is a Writer. And we can tell when we look at his earnest eyes and his earnest way of dressing.

The physiognomy of literary authors #1

J. G. Ballard looks like a jolly good chap. Just look at that broad grin! You can certainly tell that he likes a good drink or two at night. You can tell that he smokes the occasional cigar. You can tell from his bulging stomach that he does like plentiful meals. You can tell from that grin that he likes taking his golden retriever for a walk and tucking his daughters in at night.

So how can we account for his deviant imagination? How can we account for his fetishisation of car crashes? Semen on binnacles? Dead celebrities? J. F. Kennedy's death envisioned as a competitive sport? Growing flowers with semen?

So how can the (pseudo-) science of physiognomy account for this? If J. G. Ballard looks like a happy, decent chap, how do we account for the monsters and dragons that roam across his twisted psyche?

Well, that grin does have a malignant aspect to it. Perhaps he is a sadomasochist. If he feels compelled to write about sexual violence, he perhaps does enjoy it. Perhaps he does enjoy manipulating people's emotions. When we look at those eyes of his, we perhaps can ascertain that he does enjoy danger. The car crash that endured before the publication of Crash was most likely not accidental.

What about his dress code? Perhaps this is just as sinister as his profession. He claims that he is a writer, but he uses this to gain respectability. He dresses in a refined way, again, to gain respectability. He claims to write in metaphors to gain respectability.

But it is all a front. The smile on the face of this man is the smile of a man who loves pornography. It is the smile of a man who manipulates the emotions of others. It the smile of a deviant.

The physiognomy of politicians #4

What can we learn about Michael Gove when we look at him?

First off, he is a nerd. A total and utter swot. He has thick spectacles, his eyes often blankly lurch left-wards and right-wards and he speaks with a nasal, albeit plummy, voice. As he speaks, he does not move a limb in his body, nor exhibit any other kind of emotion. His protruding lips and his magnified, gyrating eyes make him look like a fish. 

So we can tell from his appearance that he semi-autistic. This accounts for his ideological inflexibility. He is a complete ideologue. He completely revamped the national curriculum, making it 'classical,' rigorous and doctrinaire. He is an economic liberal and wants to make large cuts to the public sector. He wants to privatise the NHS, though he is reluctant to admit to this when pressed. He wants to leave the European Union, bandying about populist rhetoric about 'taking back control.' He supported the Iraq war, even when it turned out to be a complete disaster that destabilised the Middle East. 

But let's cut him some slack. You can't accuse him of being inconsistent. He might well be a economic liberal, but he is also a social liberal. He was a very good justice secretary. He understood what his predecessor did not - that prisons are meant to reform citizens and turn them into better, more responsible citizens. They're not there to punish them. As such, he reinstated prison libraries. 

We can tell from his appearance that he is a bookish nerd. His favourite book is The Strange Death of Liberal England. He read a one thousand page biography of J. F. Kennedy whilst his wife gave birth. We can tell from his appearance that he is semi-autistic. Like most autistic people (like myself), he assumes that everyone should think the way he does. He was a 'clever dick' who received a comprehensive education but who nonetheless went to Oxbridge. As such, his experience should be comparable to any other lower middle-class or working-class kid out there. Those kids who live in council houses, play video games and watch trashy TV wouldn't at all struggle with Shakespeare or advanced mathematics because he didn't.

He has real reformist zeal. At times his rhetoric resembles that of a Labour education secretary from the 1960s. Anthony Crosland wanted to 'destroy every fucking grammar school in England,' even 'if it was the last thing he did.' Gove, likewise, believes in radical reform. This is why he irritated Theresa May, who deals with problem on an incremental basis. This is why she left him out of her cabinet. She also happened to find him to be a tad bit insufferable.

So we can tell that he is a nerd and and that he is semi-autistic, but how can we tell that he is a populist? Well, like all politicians he is shifty. When he is grilled about previous statements - such as the statement that he would never be prime minister, despite subsequently running for the position - he is really shifty. To his advantage, he does not look nervous. He does not stutter nor exhibit any emotion. His eyes keep gyrating as he talks complete and utter fabricated bollocks.

And this works to his advantage. He declares that 'people have had enough of experts.' He sensed the populism in the air and he sensed the mounting hatred against the Westminster elites. He sensed how people hate self-appointed experts pontificating to the working man as to how they really shouldn't vote for Brexit.

Yet this is a bookish man, who reads a 1.000 page book whilst his wife gives birth. This is a man who looks and sounds like a complete swot. What credentials does he have to be a man of the people? Indeed, what credentials does he have to say that we shouldn't have experts?

The physiognomy of politicians #3

What can we learn about Peter Mandelson, going by his appearance?

Well, to begin with, he is rather expressionless. He seems to amble about from place to place without exhibiting the faintest emotion. He seems slightly unhinged when he talks. As he talks, he appears to be suppressing details that he does not want to unleash upon the public.

And Peter Mandleson is the king of spin, the so-called 'prince of darkness.' He was the first ever 'spin doctor.' We could easily envision dwelling in a dark corner of a room, as he sips his tea and strokes his white cat. We can easily envision hundreds of his minions storming into this dark room with data, with news items, with gossip and with sleaze. He peruses all of this information with the same expressionless and hinged look. He peruses all of this information as he sips his tea and strokes his white cat.

In that very room, the true levers of power are wielded. In that room, spin is formulated. In that room, headlines are formulated. All of that data, news items, gossip and sleaze is condensed into a catchy headline that lands into the front page of every newspaper. 

Mandelson ambles around from place to place, with legions of press reporters following him closely. He is a highly effective and articulate communicator, as he manipulates their feelings and emotions. He tells him a given situation is such and such a way and should be resolved in this other way. The reporters believe him and write their given articles.

Mandelson has always been part of New Labour and has always sought to make it electable. He is the grandson of Herbert Morrison, a grandee of the 1945-51 government. Morrison was part of the right of the party and thought that the Labour party should end its obsession with class and appease the middle classes. His grandson Mandelson thought the very same thing in 1983, as it was clobbered on the back of a radical left-wing program. He joined Neil Kinnock's press team and sought to modernise the decimated party.

We can tell this when we look at him. Despite his emotionlessness, it looks like he is about to shoot off somewhere to manipulate outcomes. Despite the lack of expression, he appears to be restless. This is what he is suppressing all of the time - an endless onslaught of energy.

And he is still at it, even as a lord. He is apparently shuffling about in the background trying to end Corbyn's tenure. Whilst I myself am not the greatest fan of Mandelson's wing of the party, I am less of a fan of Corbyn's wing. Which is why I hope that he is brought down before the election this coming June.

The physiognomy of politicians #2

What can we ascertain about Theresa May's personality from her appearance? Well, like Gordon Brown, she is inscrutable. And that makes her an interesting physiognomic case study.

May is an introvert. We can tell that when we look at her. She often has a piercing look on her eyes, as she purses her lips. She seems to be a natural brooder. She does not seem to like you, or anyone else for that matter. She appears to be judging you from a distance. You are afraid that she might take your human rights away from you. You are afraid that she might look at your internet history, come to the conclusion that you are a dirty perv and launch an inquiry about it.

May is determined, cold and calculating. That is why she was the only Tory who emerged triumphant after Brexit. She 'just gets the job done.' Indeed, she lasted six full years as Home Secretary, while others wither away in that department. Now she has been entrusted with leading Britain over the cliff. We are most likely set for a Hard Brexit. As we leave the single market, as the pound weakens and as inflation soars, she shoots off to different parts of the world pleading for a trade deal. It doesn't matter if it's a pernicious, demagogic misogynist like Trump. It doesn't matter if it's a prolific violator of human rights like Erdogan. The people voted for this outcome and she wants to secure what's in the best interest for the country.

For all her coldness and determination, like Brown she also has asperities. She struggles to think on her feet. With her in the helm, you get the impression that Brexit negotiations would drag on for all perpetuity. The Conservative party has struggled to formulate tangible policies under her helm. We can tell that when we look at her. Even Corbyn can make her look fidgety. She often seems evasive. She can be prone to the occasional platitude, the most egregious one being 'we want a red, white and blue Brexit.' (What on Earth does that mean?) She often feels insecure in large crowds.

Yet, like Brown, she also cares about justice. This comes through mostly in her rhetoric, not in her voting record or her policies. Like Brown, her father was also a minister. She is a communitarian. Unlike Thatcher, she does believe that there is such a thing as society. She wants to help out those who are just about managing.

We can also tell from her physiognomy that she is stubborn and inflexible. When dealing with the opposition, she often scowls. She often juts her lips and grimaces. As such, she is also something of an ideologue. She wants to bring back grammar schools when the public has opposed them. Studies demonstrate that they are a barrier to social mobility. Her ideological leanings also make her pander to populism. She wants to control immigration figures, even if it irreparably harms the economy. She wants social cohesion at all costs. She panders to some nasty xenophobic sentiments.

She certainly is inscrutable. Yet, from this study, we have managed to deduce something about her personality. As Kenneth Clark said, she is a bloody difficult woman.

The physiognomy of politicians #1

What can we ascertain from Gordon Brown's personality by looking at him? He is dogged, principled, awkward, aloof, impassioned, a fighter, emphatic, tortured, evasive and, like all politicians, conniving.

Gordon Brown struggled to communicate his message. He literally saved the world. The banks collapsed and he bailed them out and, as a result, left a deficit. Yet, in PMQs, he accidentally declared 'I saved the world.' That, of course, sounds ludicrous. David Cameron could not prevent himself from ridiculing it. Gordon Brown remained solemn and serious as the entire house burst out laughing.

We can ascertain from looking at Gordon that he is a tragic figure, that he is doomed. He contrives a false smile for the cameras, as we can patently tell that he is suffering. He struggles to talk to common folk. He calls voters 'bigots.' He really, really shouldn't. If you want to win votes, that is certainly not a smart strategy. However, the woman he talked most certainly was a bigot.

Politics, ultimately, is dog-eat-dog? He should have made the killer move and called a snap election, when he had a lead in the polls, but he thought that it wasn't the ethical thing to do! And he lost the election! But Gordon cares about social justice! Gordon cares about equality! Gordon cares about public services! And he was wiped out!

He has an awkward gait. He seems to hunch his his back perpetually. He often sticks his tongue out into his cheek. He often hovers around awkwardly, not knowing what to do.

And this is why he lost. This is his greatest tragedy. He lost in an age completely obsessed with personality. Before politicians could win general elections and still have a completely awkward personality. The only thing that mattered back then was to get the blood job done. Just look at Attlee, for Christ sake. Just look at Heath. Also, back then, politicians could win general elections and also be studious academics. Gordon wrote his PHD thesis on the history of the Labour party. But now, how could a bookish weirdo dwelling in a dark corner of a university library possibly now lead a country?

And, still, if you ask me, his personality is a lot more interesting than most other politicians. Cameron is content-free. People say that Corbyn might be reckless and incompetent, but he at least has a personality. Well, he seems dead boring to me. He seems like a thoughtless chap who just jumps on the latest leftist bandwagon. He is a dull voluntarist who joins the latest fashionable cause. Gordon, as we can ascertain from his physiognomy, is a much more interesting character. He is the son of a minister, he is passionate and deeply cares about his party and his country. He reformulated the Labour party. It had to re-adapt to a globalised economy, which had done so much good for the third world.

We can tell from his physiognomy that he is the dual opposite of Tony Blair. Blair is all spin and charm. Blair also dragged the country into the harrowing Iraq calamity. And now the Labour party is in tatters and ruins. Gordon certainly didn't want that to happen.

And, as Cameron strolled into 10 Downing Street, Gordon walked away with his wife and beautiful boys (which, contrary to New Labour spin, he wanted to shield from the public eye, as he wanted to keep his publci and private life separate). He walked awkwardly, as usual. And we could tell from his physiognomy that so many dreams and aspirations evaporated at that very moment.

The physiognomy of football managers #4

Attack! Attack! Attack! Run! Run! Run! Mauricio Pochettino's teams do a lot of running and a lot of attacking. Their work-rate is phenomenal. It all seems far too much for the main man himself, Poche, to handle. He looks like he is about to have a panic attack. You can tell that he is a quiet, albeit nervous, chap. You can tell he is really passionate about what he does, that he is an obsessive. He is a bit like me, really.

Poche is from a humble background, having grown up in a poor town near Rosario. He was scouted by his mentor, Marcelo Bielsa, to play in the Rosario team Newell's Old Boys. He derives his tactics from 'El Loco' Bielsa, although he is more pragmatic when implementing them. Again, Poche is another example of someone marked by his uprbringing. Although he enjoyed a playing career in Europe, he is not at all flamboyant with his gestures. He is to the point. He does not talk at all about his private life. He is in the football stadium to one thing and one thing only: win a game of football.

Yet for all his humility, Poche isn't without his ideals. He is an idealist. He does want to achieve great, big, unheralded things. At the same time, he is down to earth about it. We can tell this we look at him. (Again the same shtick!) We can tell from the look in his eyes that he is driven to win big things with risky tactics. He is full of nervous energy - and he wants to transpose that nervous energy onto the pitch. Indeed, his teams are frenetically fast. Sadly, they often end the season having run out of legs. We can also tell that he is down to earth  in that his gestures and hand signals are kept to a minimum. We sense that he gets close to the pitch simply to let the players know that he is there. With his nervous demenour, however, could this have an adverse effect?

It's finally beginning to work with Spurs. They really are beginning to resemble their manager - at long last. If there's one team that lacks graft, it's Spurs. They now have both guile and graft thanks to their exemplary manager. If there's one key word that recurs in his press conferences, it's 'a philosophy.' This shouldn't be taken as a sign of pretension. Rather, it should just reveal that Maurcio Pochettino is a man of integrity and principles who wants to achieve great things playing the way he wants to play.

The physiognomy of football managers #3

Do you need some sleep? Would you like to take a rest? Manuel Pellegrini does look awfully rough. It seems like he has stayed up the whole night thinking about the match. But then, Pelle isn't the nervous type - quite the opposite. He's quite likely the calmest, most subdued manager in existence. We would assume that, prior to a football match, he methodically studies stats about the opposition. They contain a lot of curves and angles and equations that we mere mortals would never be able to fathom. He could also do with brushing his hair now and then.

Curves and angles. For indeed, Pelle is called el ingeniero - the engineer. He has an undergraduate degree in industrial engineering from Chile's most prestigious university, Universidad Catolica. He is definitely among the more cerebral and analytic managers out there. This is why he is likened to Prof Arsene Wenger. There are notable differences between the two, mind you. Wenger gets angry and often loses it. He is prone to making pissy statements in front the press. He often jumps around the touchline and waves his arms a lot.

And Pelle? What can we say about Pelle's touchline physiognomy? Well, we have already established that he looks rough, with his blood-shot eyes, messy hair and bored expression. Other than that, he does remarkably little. He sits motionless on his seat and rarely consults his assistants. He occasionally wanders close to the pitch and stands with a bored expression in front of the pitch. His physical expression communicates nothing.

This is exactly what Pelle does in press conferences, too. He literally says nothing at all. He'll say stuff like 'We played well. We deserved to win' or 'I did not think we should have lost because we played well' with a thick Chilean accent. This is all strategic, however. The idea is to say nothing and to give nothing away. He completely rejects the theatrical side of football management. When he was asked why he is not very animated on the touchline, he replied with something like 'I am not a clown. You do all the work for a game of football a week before in training. There is nothing you can do from the touchline.' (He did say this in Spanish, however - his first language. His English really isn't that good.) 

Pelle might look like he does not care when he speak and moves. Yet he also has a look of steely determination. This paradox we sense when we look at him is reflected completely by his work ethic. His ethic is 'work hard - play soft.' Indeed, although he works awfully hard, he does nothing on the touchline. It must be noted that, although Pelle is fond of fine arts, literature and culture as a whole, he is not intent on letting everyone know about his tastes. The man is the antithesis of a ponce. We are also very lucky to have him in the Premier League. I'll miss him when he is gone, but I bloody well hope he manages the Chile national team next.

The physiognomy of football managers #2

Should we call him 'Roberto' or 'Bob'? Indeed, Roberto Martinez has spent virtually his entire playing and mangerial career in England. He is 'Anglo-Spanish,' rather than 'Spanish.' Can we ascertain this when we look at him?

It must be said, though, Roberto seems more 'Spanish' in appearance - and this indeed is reflected by his teams' style of play. Roberto has helped make English football 'sexier.' This is evident when we look at Roberto's physiognomy: he sports an immaculate suit, wears a Rolex watch, speaks eloquently and is quite likely best groomed manager in the entire premier league.

Roberto is very animated on the touchline. He prances about a lot. He always directs incomprehensible hand signals and gestures at the players. This is most likely a sign of narcissism. Do the players really know what a square, plus four and a wave mean - all signaled by hand gestures? Don't football players have a reputation for being a bit thick, anyway? This is most likely a showcase for the cameras which all are, conveniently enough, perched right next to the managerial dug out.

We can tell by the way that Roberto grimaces that he is brave and that he is a poet. Indeed, he is very articulate and well-spoken. Let's not forget that football managers aren't the leading exemplars of articulacy. They are prone to dishing out tired sound-bites and platitudes such as 'we played with belief'' again and again and again. Let us not forget, either, that English is Roberto's second language.

Why is Roberto, then, a brave football poet? His teams so far haven't been blessed with the highest budgets. He is swimming against the current. The remedy for that would be the old tried and tested English way: lump the ball forward and defend. But no. Roberto plays innovative football with flair, with gusto and - poetically - with danger. When Roberto was at Wigan Athletic, his motto was 'Sin miedo.' Wigan Athletic were relegated from the premier league at the end of his tenure - with the lowest budget - but won the FA cup. This really was a romantic fairy tale. And it was led by the premier league's poet.

We can certainly tell all this when we look at Roberto. When he looks at the field, he is a man on a mission. Yet no-one finds him insufferable - quite the opposite. Unlike his counterpart Brendan Rodgers, Roberto does have a sense of humour and is a very nice likeable chap. Even when his teams enter a losing streak - and this does happen now and again with his teams, even Everton - we can't bring ourselves to get angry with Roberto. How could you?

The physiognomy of football managers #1

What does the figure of David Moyes tell us about him as a person? First of all, let us make a clear distinction between his two tenures as football manger: Everton and post-Everton.

His two tenures do confirm that Moyes is worthy of the epithet 'Brooding Dave.' The difference between the two tenures is very simple - it is one of confidence.

Moyes has always been static and immobile whilst on the dugout. Beyond those blue, cavernous eyes we can positively ascertain that he is a passionate, glum and solemn figure. He cares about one thing and one thing only: football. His unrelenting energy is driven towards that direction. His mind is racing. He is not thinking about sophisticated tactics. His mind, on the contrary, works on rather binary terms: win/lose. The outcome of a football game determines the outcome of his feelings and his frame of mind. Although not sophisticated when it comes to tactics, he knows that he can transfer his passion onto the players. He has grit and his team plays with grit. He is hard-working and team play with a similar ethic. Hence, they are organised and tough to beat.

Moysie is a working class kid from Glasgow. We can see this when we look at him. We can see that he has been marked by his upbringing. We can see that as he statically stands in the rain, bellowing instructions at his players. His upbringing has informed his values. Hence, he is a Methodist and a Labour supporter. Beyond that, he only cares about his football. We can see that as he stand on touchline. He is tenacity personified.

Once he moved to global multi-billionaire extravaganza that is Mancherster United, things changed for Moysie. He continues to brood, as is his wont. Except that he now cuts a rather glum, flummoxed and confused figure. He is overwhelmed by the new circumstances. He frequently scratches his head, dumbfounded. He is no longer fighting against the current as an underdog. He has all the resources at his disposal. Nevertheless, the circumstances are not propitious for Moysie. As such, he looks miserable and terrified. Will the tenacious Moyes make a come-back? Sadly, Moyes seems to think that he is more flexible and talented than he actually is. He is suitable for a team with a mid-table budget vying for Europe. Beyond that he cannot manage a global monolith like Man U, nor a Liga team like Real Sociedad. He needs to fight against the current. He needs to be in miserable circusmtances. Otherwise, wonderful circumstances make him miserable. Hopefully, he will come to his wits and realise that he a lot more parochial and one-dimensional than he thinks himself to be. We need the real David Moyes back on these shores.

Just be promiscuous with me!

I recorded this way over four years ago, aged 20. The worse thing is that hardly little has changed. I was very much right to be so anxious and gloomy about my future prospects regarding girls. This is worth hearing for a few laughs - it's so pathetic it's funny. I don't think I'll ever change!

That's revolting!

'Everything human is pathetic. The ultimate source of humour itself is not joy, but sorrow. There is no humour in heaven.' - Mark Twain

Certain subjects are so taboo that they do not seem fit subject for humour. Jibes at minorities, sweeping generalisations and jokes on sensitive topics are deemed imprudent. This is true to some extent, as long as it is treated with irony. Bawdy jokes about gays, rape, race are a crass way to get laughs. It is what Germans call shaudenfraud. a way of laughing at other people's misfortunes. When Bernard Manning makes jokes about 'Pakis' we do not laugh because it is meant literally and conforms to stereotypes.

 However, when you make a joke in the vein of Manning with undertones of irony, it becomes funny. You are not laughing at the victims of such tirades, you are laughing at the type of people who make those jokes in the first place.

For instance, the Peter Cook/Dudley Moore duo Derek & Clive, at its best, is thunderously funny. There are the kind of diatribes you might here at a pub in the heartlands of England. The word 'cunt' is used as punctuation. There are the kind of absurd claims drunken men make ('the worst job I ever had...'). We laugh when a man hits the deck and breaks his fucking neck, when Clive kills a thousand Jews in Golders Green after seeing Nazis on TV, why people don't 'label' things. One laughs, although one may not think one ought to. A laugh is largely involuntary. I still think that D & C is playing around with these type of stereotypes. It turns Bernard Manning on its head.

Likewise, in Mel Brooks' iconic film The Producers we get a musical skit called 'Springtime for Hitler.' Whilst some may think that the horrors of the Third Reich are too sensitive to even be lampooned, once more it is hilarious. A rag-tag of ideas, rather than a coherent ideology, it is revealed for all its silliness. Nazism is demeaned through laughter. Satire attacks fascism with laughter and consigns its subject to ignominy.

Pathos is also funny. Acute suffering - such as a terminal illness - is never funny. Though a more moderate type of pathos, such as falling over, is funny. The subject is clumsy and buffoonish; he elicits laughter. Laughing at this type of minor misfortune can be mean-spirited, but it diminishes staid moroseness. No-one wants to live in a portentous world where everything is taken at face value.

Ah, humanity!

A conversation with a true kindred spirit.

'Mr. Wilkins Discusses the "Human Condition" with Hunruth' (1977) by Robert Crumb

Saimon A. King a la Marcel Proust

The carriage traversed past the slope, leading to the beckoning horizon, which glimmered incandescently like the jewellery, like the jewellery of my loved one, who swashed me with kisses and carresses, and, it buttressed a marvellous dividing-line, through which a fissure materialised, and it is these fissures which ameliorate the hum-drum reality of quotidian life, portals to a world where verisimilitude did not exist, where the world is better, and funnier, and more parodic, like Proust, because it is those rare jewels that make life living, that make you realise that you must rally on, because when love exists, matter functions, the fissures I experience with Bach, with Mark E. Smith and with the beckoning horizon which looms closer as the carriage approaches.

O-la-la, that was a crappy - and unfunny - parody!

The need for satire

Peter Cook

After years of stasis, you could say that times are now a little more turbulent. We are in the throes of a recession, needless wars have been inflicted on the Middle East and China are increasingly becoming the world's largest economy.

What often gets us through tough times is humour. Not just any kind of humour, however. When we are saturated with images of mopey politicians cavorting in front of our television sets, comedy is a useful tool. It can attack and ridicule these figures; it can satirise them.

In the early 1960s, Peter Cook was one of the main exponents of a 'satire boom'. He mimicked then Prime Minister Harold MacMillan in his very presence. Many skits and comedic sketches that satirised various aspects of English society were performed in theatres. This was humour used as a tool to challenge, shock and debase the higher hierarchy.

Whilst we do have a wealth of gifted comedians now (Ricky Gervais, Sacha Baron Cohen, Jack Dee, Johnny Vegas), their work is not really satirical. These comedians aren't really having a stab at the our rulers. Events like the Leveson Inquiry and the Iraq war certainly lend themselves to this type of humour. And whilst the satirical magazine Private Eye does sell in large numbers, it is never really in the public spotlight all that much.

There is a quality to humour that allows you to get away with murder. Whilst a transgressive novel or film may provoke death threats and the like, comedy is sufficiently subtle so as to allow this not to happen. It is frivolous, it provokes laughter but it can still make you think and question. It can be funny in an unsettling, frightful manner.