Wondermentalist

 We’re going to Exeter Phoenix on Saturday July 5th. Isn’t it exciting? I’ll take that as a yes.   Bill Greenwell will be there, one of the funniest parodists and spoofers in the business, we’ll have comedy from Jerri Hart, music from Nomad Shuffle and some brilliant young Exeter-based musicians and Matt Harvey (that’s me, writing abut myself in the 3rd person for the sake of clarity and, um, insanity) will host and do an extended set. We’re going to be upstairs in the Voodoo Lounge, a great space, tickets are available in advance through the Phoenix Box Office 01392 667080.  It’s going to be so, so good that in my head I’m already hoping and planning for this to become an annual event.

In the audience at the April wondercab, I happen to know, because a) I invited them and b) I said hello to one of them on the stairs, were Kay Dunbar and Stephen Bristow, directors of the Ways With Words literature festival at Dartington, where we’re taking the cabaret on Monday the 14^th July, in the Great Hall. I can’t help but wonder what they made of it all, and wonder if they’ll tell me. I can’t help but wonder if they are a) pleased or b) mildly regretful that they’ve invited us to their festival and even if they’re c) thinking of a reason why it’s not such a good idea…

…but the reason for this isn’t misgivings as to the quality of the evening as whole – I thought all the acts and the dead poet slammers did us proud. It was the Empath Man script that may have let the side down a bit. Coming on after the historical 1^st-ever rendition of the Theme Song (thanks Graham Macey of Nomad Shuffle) I admit to regretting, as once before (as noted by Andrea in a previous comment) letting it all get a bit long and complicated. But there you go.

Postscript: A very nice phone call with Kay reassures me that they honestly enjoyed it and are in no way troubled by our impending visit to the Great Hall. How could I ever have thought otherwise. So please put Monday 14^th July in your poetry-planner or diary. The Wondermentalist is proud to be attending it’s first ever Literature Festival, Ways With Words… The Great Hall is very big space. Come along and, um, watch it.

I wanted to tell you, the curious blog reader, where you can find various highlights of the April Cabaret on Traydio, so look below and click as you see fit… 

A compilation of the highlights of the March 2008 Wondermentalist can be found here  

Stephen Park’s contribution is here

Nathan Filer’s flying words can be heard by clicking here

Jerri Hart’s comic turn is digitally reproduced right here

For the Audience Poem, however, you must press here

The band known as Nomad Shuffle can be heard here, while Nomad Shuffle doing the Empath Man Theme Song with Jerri Hart on vocals and Faith Burch and Johnny Bloor on backing vocals are, as you probably guessed, exactly here

I hope you felt moved to click on the links. I hope you liked a significant percentage of what you heard. There will come a time, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon, my word alive but it’s coming soon, when it willbe possible to subscribe to wondermentalist  podcasts. These, once subscribed to, will bring  lovely audio files to your iTunes or equivalent without you having to do anything. Isn’t that marvellous? It’s a rhetorical question, but I like to think you;re sitting there, nodding, with a grin on your face that makes you look younger than you’ve looked all week.

It’s a nice thought. 

Before the interval, after the Dead Poets’ Slam, I ask the audience to set a theme for the collaborative poem. I never know what to expect. The first suggestion took me by surprise. ‘Penises’. Why should I be surprised? I’d asked for a concrete (as opposed to abstract) noun. Penises qualify. Then someonesaid ‘pasties’, fair enough, and someone else said ‘male genitalia’ – as if they really hadn’t understood what was being asked of them. Interesting. The audience eventually settled on ‘handbag’. When it came to the voting – the informal expressing of a preference – there was a very muted response for penises, which, again, surprised me. I’d honestly thought they’d generate more enthusiasm, not in themselves but as subjects for a ‘what are you like?’ poem. but they didn’t, and there’s an end to it.

Here’s the poem as put together by Beryl the Feral and read out on the night. A standard was maintained, I’d say.

Glambag, handbag, miscellaneous slam bag

An unnecessary accessory

Nosebags for the donkey that is the female ego

Holder of all secrets tawdry and sublime

Collector of tickets and old lipstick slime

Clutter collector, essentials dispenser

Incontinent cornucopia of miscellaneous Matter

A repository for a suppository, a pessary or a tampax

Essential survival sack for seriously extreme shoppersssssss

All of life is here, and a bit extra

A lonely lady’s dance floor respite

Labyrinthine conundrums

A portable black hole, a tiny tardis with a Gucci label

Prada – a larder for Pina Colada

When the floods come, my handbag can be a sandbag

Clutch, clasp, a place fro the rasp

A grand in a handbag is worth two in a busted sack

All the world is  handbag, with pockets and corners and zippers

In black leather to match my mood

Hard and horny like a crocodile’s winkle picker

Mother confessor, diary professor, pen and ink, kitchen sink

Handbag, sandbag, old bag, bagman, douche bag, swag bag

Men confusers, lipstick losers

A place for things I’ve never needed

Accessory of mass Oestruction

Weapon of man’s destruction

Dense dark dangler

Not a penis though,

The Queen always carries a handbag – it always looks empty…