Why did the chicken cross the road? To get to the other side… but it was weeeeeeeell worth it!

Posted by Jeff on Nov 28th, 2012 in News | 0 comments

Heya.

For those who care, I’m featuring in yet another Storytelling at Caplansky’s this Sunday. Come on by if you’d like to hear some amusing stories with delicious smoked meat. Hosted by either Michael or Marilla Wex. Huzzah.

Nobody’s asking me, of course, but in case you wanted to know, I’ve been taking something of a break – let’s call it a “sabbatical” – from the Toronto poetry scene for the past five weeks or so. I’ve been devoting my time to looking for a new day job, debating whether I want to do another Fringe show next year (more on that in a future entry) and writing more reviews and stuff for Digital Journal. (Oh, and playing way too much online Risk. Addictive stuff.) Journalism seems to be the only thing I’m capable of doing halfway right these days, so I invite you to check out my more recent stuff on the Digital Journal site. Here’s the link. Clicky clicky. Don’t worry, it won’t bite.

Just to clarify, it’s mainly the Toronto community that I’m avoiding right now. If a series outside of the city is still interested in giving me a gig at some point (say, Guelph, Lanark County, Ottawa, Winnipeg…), I graciously accept. But I’m just not feeling the love in T.O. right now.

I started performing spoken word regularly in about 2000 or 2001 – several years before slam became, more or less, the only game in town – and yet, despite the friends I’ve made along the way and the small successes I’ve had, I’ve always felt like an outsider to the community. Look: I get it, people. I’m not a poet. My material isn’t poetry. It’s prose, imbued with elements of storytelling and comedy, but lacking in metaphor, concrete sensory images and emotional ear candy. My writing isn’t subtle enough, or finely crafted enough, for the “literary” scene, and it’s not hip enough for the slam scene. There seems to be no real place for anything ranking between those extremes.

So why have I continued doing this? Because I’ve enjoyed it so much. And because people have been generous enough to feature me in their shows so many times, despite the fact that I don’t really fit in. And I’ve been happy to support the community in return, even while occasionally being very critical of it, by attending readings, shows and festivals. But now, because of unrelated reasons, I’m not so sure I enjoy it anymore.

At any rate, I’ve come to feel that being part of the slam community – and maybe the poetry community as a whole – is a lot like being part of the Mafia.

Seriously. Being a member of the slam community feels like being a peripheral character in Goodfellas or On the Waterfront, in the sense that you never know when somebody you’ve mistaken for a friend will suddenly turn on you, on a whim, just because you said something stupid. To survive, you’ve got to stand in line with the rest, stick to your deaf-and-dumb act and hope you don’t fall outside of the established code.

There are people in the slam community who claim to be working hard to make slam a “safe” space for everyone – free from fears of violence, harassment and intimidation. And I understand and sympathize with the positive intentions behind this. It makes perfect sense. Everybody wants to be safe, right? Nobody wants to feel threatened in any way while out sharing your passion for an art form.

But there’s a side effect of this well-meaning activism that bothers me: it’s the witch-hunt mentality that comes out of it. Sometimes it feels almost McCarthyist. It’s as if people are actively looking for an excuse to call you out on something, either out of a misguided sense of good citizenship or just to get brownie points from the cool kids. Remember The Crucible? “I saw Goody Proctor mock the Trigger Warning!” “I heard Goody Putnam make a joke I didn’t like!” “I saw Goody Nurse do something that wasn’t a shining beacon of positivity!” Bring out the stake and matches.

And the irony of this whole thing is that now, I don’t feel safe or comfortable among the slam community anymore. Or at least not welcome. Because of this witch-hunt mentality I’m seeing, which sometimes comes out in subtle ways and sometimes is blatantly obvious, I have to be so careful of everything I say and do that it’s not worth the bother. Why does everything have to be so black and white, anyway? Sometimes I wonder if the real bullies are the ones with the noblest intentions.

And now it’s gone too far. Now, thanks to a couple of idiotic misunderstandings, I am told that I’m not a “safe” person to be around, that others feel physically uncomfortable in my presence. And why? Primarily because I included a certain offensive line while I covered somebody else’s poem.

And sure, there’s always been the option to accept my apologies and just let it go. Instead, it’s seen as more constructive to turn the whole mess into a lame real-life version of Mamet’s Oleanna.

I’m not saying we should all go around deliberately offending each other. That just makes you a jerk. Nor am I denying that people have the right to be offended or upset by racy content in someone’s poem, particularly if they have undergone terrible past experiences that make their emotional reactions involuntary. But isn’t there a certain point where you have to shrug and say, “Hey man, it’s art”? Art isn’t meant to be taken literally. Art is about self-expression, about revealing your own twisted view of the world, not about tiptoeing quietly around an audience’s comfort zones. And yes, sometimes art (especially humour) is going to shock and offend if it’s honest. I’m confused when somebody who listens to Eminem or watches Family Guy can turn around and scold a writer over a disturbing line in a poem. Why do Messrs. Mathers and MacFarlane get away with making terrible jokes about violence against women? Why are the rules different for them? Because they’re famous?

I’m no stranger to the usual humourless, knee-jerk, PC overreactions. I’ve laughed them off. There are worse things than getting self-righteous morality lectures from nineteen-year-old college students about how they think “Sally Dumps Jimmy” or “A Love Letter” is misogynistic, or how I supposedly wrote Grouch on a Couch for no other reason than an immature need to shock people with naughty language. Usually, I assumed that they needed to grow the hell up. Now, I don’t know. I just don’t know anymore. I don’t write or perform spoken word to make people feel “unsafe”. I think the situation is utterly absurd, but I’m not trying to make any trouble. Maybe I’ve been wrong all along, and the true moral point of view is this: if art and wit make one person feel “unsafe”, we should ban them. Let’s just end all art and wit. Let would-be artists devote their lives to nothing but Hallmark-card poems and photos of kittens with misspelled captions. What a fine and safe world that will be.

So that’s why I’m not going to poetry events in Toronto these days. I’ve removed myself from most of the Facebook communities – I don’t even want to know when the events are. And I doubt it’s making any difference. I mean, it’s not as if crowds of people are banging down my door and begging me to come out and read “How to Write Like a Lawyer” on an open mic.

But I am doing a spoken-word set in January at an improv show, if that counts for anything. At least the improv kids don’t feel “unsafe” around me. They get it: we all say stupid and offensive things once in a while. That doesn’t mean we’re all Mel Gibson.

October. And the trees are stripped bare. Of all they wear. What do I care?

Posted by Jeff on Oct 1st, 2012 in News | 0 comments

Hey bud.

C’mere.

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Lookin’ fer somethin’ to do this month? Are ya?

Well, fer starters, I gots a gig dis Wednesday, see. A gig at Zemra Bar Lounge. Shhhhhhhhhhhh! Turns out I’m doin’ dis spoken-woid set at a show what they call Flowetic Wednesdays. Also featuring Whitney French. No, I dunno if the dame’s really French, but dey say her words are sweet. Sweet enough to steal. Dere’s also dis open mic for all youse punks what wanna show off your jollies to the woyld, see.

And den, flatfoot, why, don’t get sore, see, ’cause I gotta brass knuckle what’s gonna mess up you coppers like… ah, screw this.

And then I’m reading a cover of one of David Clink’s poems, at the launch of his new collection of humorous poetry, Crouching Yak, Hidden Emu. At Hot Sauced Words on the 18th, also with Mike Bryant, Cathy Petch, Sandra Kasturi and other funny lit folk.

And on the 28th, catch me at Storytelling at Caplansky’s once again. Maybe I’ll diss another quasi-famous person. Which will cause you to go, “OMG like your jus jelous!! LOL your a looser”.

That’s all for now. Happy Canadian Thanksgiving.

Happy Labour Day, Charlie Brown!

Posted by Jeff on Sep 1st, 2012 in News | 0 comments

Yes, it’s only two more sleeps until Labour Day. I’ve been getting ready. I’ve got a large, glowing Labour Tree in my living room, with Labour decorations outside the window. I’ve bought all my Labour gifts for friends and family, and I await the arrival of the Labour Demon as he comes down the chimneys of pregnant women everywhere and induces early labour on them.

Particularly if they’re sitcom characters. In which case, it’s compulsory that they’re trapped in elevators or phone booths. Or that the only person available to deliver the baby is a cab driver.

Preferably a wacky cab driver. With a Latino accent, clashing polyester clothes, and a zany catch phrase like, “Fardingbag?! I ain’t got no Fardingbag, sister! Wowsers and mergatroids, where did I put that fudge?”

Cue laugh track.

Where was I going with this?

Oh, it’s September.

Here’s what I gots goin’ on in September:

This Tuesday, the fourth, I’m going to be interviewed on the local radio show HOWL. This is my fourth or fifth time on the show, I believe (the first being more than ten years ago). Hosted by Nik Beat, the hour-long show will also feature blues musician Chuck Jackson and author Ryan Frawley, with music by Hellywood DolZ.

So tune in to CIUT on Tuesday night at 10:00 p.m. (that’s 7:00 p.m. if you’re on the west coast, or 3:00 a.m. Wednesday morning if you’re one of my U.K. friends). It’s 89.5 FM in Toronto; elsewhere, you can hear it on the station’s website.

Sunday, September 23 is the date of this year’s Word On The Street festival. Burning Effigy Press will be in the fringe section of the exhibitors, and I assume I’ll be there for at least part of the day, trying to sell my CD Clown with a Coat Hanger and my chapbook Grouch on a Couch. More information about the fest is available here.

So you could buy Grouch at WotS… but why wait until then? Get it here.

And then, the next Sunday, I’m storytelling at Caplansky’s again, as part of Storytelling at Caplansky’s. Other booked storytellers TBA.

Oh, and by the way? I need a job. An editorial job, preferably with a magazine or online publication or something like that. Please send me leads. Experience, connections and hard work are getting me nowhere.

JeffCottrill.com has been videotaped before a live studio audience.

The August of Your Soul

Posted by Jeff on Aug 6th, 2012 in News | 0 comments

Hey buddy.

So I didn’t do a whole frackin’ lot in July, except for uploading a year-old video of my one-man show. But with the bitter August wind comes the tender trellisses of the sinister dexterities of new gigs.

(This is why people tell me I’m not a real poet.)

First of all, I just got offered two parts, a last-minute replacement, in the Frolick theatre company’s ongoing production of Adventures in Slumberland on Centre Island. It’s based on the classic Little Nemo comic by Winsor McCay. It’s a family show, and if you have little people in your household, it’s a perfect outing for them.

(EDIT: I’m going to be doing Adventures in Slumberland from now until September 3. Shows run every day, usually hourly from 11:15 to about 7:00, weather permitting. For the most part, I’ll be in the later-afternoon shows, as part of the “B” cast.)

I’m playing Flip and King Morpheus. Why, I even get to sing a song. It’s only my second* paying acting gig, and I didn’t even have to audition for it. They didn’t even need a head shot. Sometimes it just helps when somebody knows you.

Then, on the following weekend, Plasticine Poetry Series is welcoming me back to feature for a fourth time. Hosted by the sexy and saucy Cathy Petch, the show will also include the literary talents of Duncan Armstrong, Heather Wood and Carolyn Smart.

You should go to that one, because they now do the series at Pauper’s Pub, and Pauper’s Pub has Keith’s cider. Which is great muhfuggin cider. Actually, I think they just have it as a temporary replacement for Magner’s, which is also pretty good. Anyway, come for the cider and stay for the performances. There’s an open mic, too.

And on the following Sunday, it’s Caplansky’s time again. I tell stories. Perhaps I may even tell one in spoken-word form.

In the meantime… read my Digital Journal stories. Now. As in, these ones.

Toodles.

* Unless you count Grouch on a Couch. But I don’t, because I spent far more money doing that show than I earned from it. And unless you count the work I used to do as a movie extra, but come on, that’s hardly acting.

“Grouch on a Couch” is now online, suckas.

Posted by Jeff on Jul 13th, 2012 in News | 0 comments

I don’t have any features or gigs this month. Not until August.
I’ve had other things on my mind. For starters, I need a new day job again. Preferably something that involves writing and pays enough to live on. If you’ve got any leads in that direction, please pass them on. If it helps, I’ll even hold up my hand in the “phone” position and mouth “Call me.” That always works.

But I’ve got other fish to nuke for the moment.

Remember how I kept hyping before that a video of Grouch on a Couch was going to be online soon? (Assuming that anybody reads the posts on my website, that is?)

Well, now it’s “soon”. Grouch on a Couch is online.
Because I’ve finally gotten around to setting up my own goddamn YouTube account.

I’ve even set up a playlist that includes not only Grouch but a few other random videos of me that other people have shot… one of them is from the Bowery Poetry Club in New York, another is from a Skype broadcast event in the U.K., and so the hell on.

So now… if you’re one of those people who swore on their mothers’ graves that they intended to see Grouch on a Couch when I did it onstage, but still missed it – now you can see it!

Well, you can see a low-quality video of the show.

Specifically, of the least-attended performance of it.

In six parts.

Better than never seeing it at all, right? I hope so. Because I’m never performing it again. This is the only way you can see me perform the show now.

Why don’t I just make things easier and embed the whole thing here? Yeah, I’ll do that. You can go make popcorn in the meantime.

June, she’ll change her tune / In restless walks, she’ll prowl the night

Posted by Jeff on Jun 9th, 2012 in News | 0 comments

It’s June. And you know what that means.

It means… that I’m featuring in Storytelling at Caplansky’s once again. On Sunday the 17th. They must love me there, even though they don’t laugh much. I believe I’m going to perform a relatively new piece, “A Love Letter”, which has been going over very well at numerous open mics and which I’ve recently gotten around to memorizing.

So, officially speaking, all I’ve got on the gig front at the moment are Caplansky’s this month and Plasticine (my fourth feature there, I think) in August. And I’ll also be appearing on Nik Beat’s radio program, HOWL, once again in August.

But… there may well be more coming up.
Specifically, I’m waiting to hear back about at least a couple of potential out-of-town slam features in the coming months. No chicken-counting yet, my friend, but look out for stuff. I’m back, baby.

I went to New York a few weeks ago, where I did a feature at the excellent Jujomukti Spoken-Word Sundays series in the East Village, along with Kat Georges. And I saw the wonderful Book of Mormon, and even toured Carnegie Hall. Not nearly as funny as the Carnegie Hall Show, by the National Theatre of the World… but next time somebody asks me how to develop the skills and talent to become a world-renowned concert pianist, I’m going to reply: “57th and 7th”.

Yes, I just pulled an Allen Woody. Deal with it, bucko.

I’ve also been writing news stuff.
Oh, didn’t I ever mention that I occasionally contribute to Digital Journal? No? Well, I do. Mainly for fun and exposure. I even got paid for it once. And then ninety percent of those earnings were immediately deducted from my Paypal account for a service I’m not even using at the moment, but that’s another story.

You should read my articles and click Like, so that I get points and stuff and maybe another eventual ten dollars. Here’s the link to my articles.

You should especially read the E.T. op-ed piece I posted this morning. Because almost nobody else is, apparently. What, everybody’s too cool for E.T. now? (My third-grade classmates certainly weren’t. Take that.)

Happy summer. Build a dirt-man for me.

Counterpoint the surrealism of the underlying metaphor

Posted by Jeff on May 6th, 2012 in News | 0 comments

Happy Cinco de Mayo. You’ve got less than thirty-five minutes after this post to appreciate it.

Remember a few weeks ago, when I said that I did a video shoot for BeSpokeCity for my old warhorse “He Reads Michael Ondaatje”? Here it be, sucka.

And if you go to the actual YouTube page, you may see links to several much-less-professional-looking videos of me reading or performing “Review of This Piece”, “Party Like Juan” and a relatively new bit, “A Love Letter”, which I’m currently in the process of memorizing.

So… this is your chance to post comments on my videos like, “omg lol thiss guy sux!!!!!!! haha lolol”

Next Friday, the 11th, I’m going to be performing at Jammin’ on the One, in another comedy sketch from Rabbit Hole Sketch Company, “Arthur and Martha Have Visitors”, written and directed by Charlene Winger. Also appearing in the scene will be my friends Terry Kan, Magdalena BB, Charlene, Richard Allen and Arden Church. I think there’s another featured performer or two, and it’s all followed by an open improv jam for everyone.

Now, I know what you’re thinking… “But Jeff… you’re acting? Again? Surely you learned your lesson from Grouch on a Couch? That you’re not a real actor? Come on. Jest not with me, O foolish man who dost not know thyself.”
Yes, I did learn my lesson from Grouch. Actually, I learned a lot of lessons from doing that show, many of which I wish I could unlearn, and most of which are reasons why you should buy my chapbook of the show’s script and earn me back some of the money and dignity that I lost. But I digress. I’m doing this sketch, and it’s mainly for fun. Come see it and maybe you’ll have fun too.

And now, ladies and gentlemen… Conway Twitty.

(You know you’re losing your touch when you start stealing your jokes from The Dog & Baby Show. I mean, Family Guy.)

Whan that Aprille, with hise shoures soote…

Posted by Jeff on Apr 17th, 2012 in News | 0 comments

How’s it going?

Not so much has happened since February. Oh, I went to Italy for a week. Italy is nice. I ate a lot of gelato and pizza and pasta. As you do. While in Pisa, I got new ideas for two spoken-word monologues, which I’ve already drafted. I don’t know if they’re any good. We’ll see when I test them out.

My new Coffeehouse.ca site is going to be up soon. When it’s ready, you’ll be able to find it on the Coffeehouse link on the links page. You can find it. You’re a big boy. Or girl.

I just shot a video for BeSpokeCity of my old piece “He Reads Michael Ondaatje”. I’ll embed it on this site when it’s ready and public. And although it’s been more than a year, we’re hoping to get that video of Grouch on a Couch online soon. Wheels are turnin’.

The only gig I have this month is yet another appearance at Storytelling at Caplansky’s, next Sunday. I don’t know what stories I’m going to tell yet. Maybe it will be the thrilling yarn of the writing of this blog entry.

That’s all for now. Go slap a monkey.

Happy birthday, Charlie Dickens

Posted by Jeff on Feb 5th, 2012 in News | 0 comments

In case you haven’t heard, this coming Tuesday is the two-hundredth anniversary of the birth of the great Victorian novelist Charles Dickens.

I suggest you celebrate by reading Great Expectations, one of the best damn novels ever written. David Copperfield is also really good, as is the first half of Oliver Twist. But if you’re one of those people who refuse to read Dickens because your Grade 11 teacher forced you to read A Tale of Two Cities in less than a week, or because you think anything written before Hemingway is “like, OMG, like, totally lame-o and gay, dood”, then I would suggest you read John Irving’s brilliant 1986 essay, “The King of the Novel” – a passionate, heartfelt defense not only of Dickens but of any writer who has ever had anything worth saying about society and human nature. It’s in Irving’s short-story collection, Trying to Save Piggy Sneed. Go ahead. I’ll wait.

Or, if you just don’t like reading, then watch David Lean’s movie adaptations from the 1940s. Drink a shot whenever you see antisemitism.

I’ll do my part for Dickens’ birthday on February 19, when I feature once again at Storytelling at Caplansky’s. By request of the host, Marilla Wex (who designed this website, and may even be reading this right now – Hi, Marilla! *waves*), I’ll memorize my infamous Dickens parody, “Little Nell”, and perform it there. Warning: It contains graphic violence, long book titles and a spectacularly inept cockney accent.

But why am I going on about Dickens? This website isn’t about him. It’s about me, me, me!

Three nights before Caplansky’s, I’m performing at Launchpad Comedy, a night of yuks hosted by my friend Magdelena. I’ll be the sole comical poet surrounded by a roomful of legit comedians. Wish me luck.

But the big show is on the afternoon of Sunday, February 26.

That’s when my Second City writing class presents Of Vice and Men, a one-hour, Second City-style revue on the Mainstage, featuring real, semi-professional actors performing our words. (We’ll be in the show too, briefly, in the opening sketch.) I’ve contributed scenes lampooning kindergarten classes and old-timey movie producers.

Here’s the Facebook event page. If you can’t make the 26th, though, there are also small “work in progress” presentations you can see on the 12th and 19th. (There was one yesterday, too, but you can only catch that one with a Tardis or a DeLorean.)

Info on all of the above events on the right sidebar.

What a world of gammon and spinach it is, though, ain’t it?

Only 100 years until the Temples of Syrinx are torn down.

Posted by Jeff on Jan 7th, 2012 in News | 0 comments

Hey man.

I’m gonna keep this one short, because I’ve got other stuff to do.

So if you’re one of those people who doesn’t like these blog posts but reads them anyway, this one will save you a little suffering. If you love these blog posts, well, tough.

This Thursday the 12th, I’m featuring at “The Beautiful and the Damned”, a monthly poetry and music series run by everybody’s favourite She Bytch, Carolina Smart. Also featuring is the hilarious local poet David Clink, and the musical feature will be either Arlene Paculan or Charnie Guettel. Hosting is Rex Baunsit.

Wanna see the poster, which misspells my name?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wanna see the other one?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I hope you enjoy this night of poetry and. If you want to RSVP on the Facebook page, here it is.

I’m also having another one of my comedy scenes read aloud at the John Candy Box Theatre this month. It’s supposed to be on the 25th… but they may change it. It may be the 18th. I can’t tell you yet. Check the right sidebar for any updates. (Why should I have to do everything, huh? Huh?)

And now, for reasons only known to myself, I shall poke your tum-tum.