I tried to shout some boring guy off the stage at 7Sins bar last night at an event called VENT, becoming the ‘8th Sin’ for most, but which livened my evening up considerably. It was a surprising experience that gave me some interesting thoughts about the three parties involved: him, me and everyone else.
1. Him. Curious how the victim, whose victimhood was much elaborated on over an enthusiastic 25 minute stint, succeeded in both draining me of empathy and keeping the stage for so long. I laid into him again when he was off just for the record and he struck me as a man who, in his diuretic self-effacement, glowed with extraordinary confidence. This, in spite of the fact that I’d just stolen his limelight.
2. Everyone else. My vocal plea was 100% unsupported. On the contrary, I was then heckled off myself with a resounding cheer in favour of this poor, poor man swamping us with further expulsions. This was disappointing if unsurprising, and interesting. Firstly, given the number of people who had been making whispering, trollish comments during his stint, much worse than my simple plea for him to be removed. Secondly, for the reaction I got afterwards, as if I had embarrassed myself terribly, as if my cruelty had no bounds …
3. Me. So why was I convulsed in giggles? Not nervous giggles but actual giggles, not just then but all the way home and at points during the night … and presently. Am I the beast? A professional attention seeker? A spanner in the works? Was I trying to meet men? Was I part of the act!
When a ‘performer’ performs: are we, the audience there for him/her, or is he/she there for us, the audience? Is heckling outright wrong? Click here for a view.
In a world saturated with publicity, to whom do we give airtime? Give power and fame? To someone, like this man, who no one feels able to question? To me, who inspires overt opinion?
Have I damaged the VENT night beyond repair or have I inadvertently promoted it?
Click LIKE if you want me to do it again.