Push, Pull, Eat, Drink. Part One

Stay with me on this one, I’ve got this thing crystallising in my mind and I want to get it written down before it melts.

Wouldn’t it be so much better if instead of posting the contents of an idea, I just wrote about the idea itself – that is the thought in my mind?  Like a meta-tought post?  I mean easier.  For me.

I just think about what I’m thinking instead of having the thought primary in itself.  A bit like I’m watching myself think.  I’m firmly in the saddle when I’m doing the immediate things, speaking, going through my daily sum of operations, but when I really think I immediately step out of the idea and search for its backdoor I suppose.  I’m running the extreme risk of having some student of psychology tell me I’m schitzo or something, but believing that I do that these quacks would have work enough breathing and blinking if they had to live inside this mind let alone consuelling me on mental disorders thereof, I’m not giving a good shit if they do or not.  It’s their keyboards they’d be poking, not me.

At what stage does a professional partnership reach the stage of familiarity where each partner openly sends up their opposite, where the act becomes the act?  Where the object of humour is the Partnership, rather than what the Partnership produces – say sketch comedy.  I mean used to provide – now all it provides is observations on itself.  A feedback loop if you will, where the original source has been overpowered by the laminated, coiled mash of its previous iterations.

At what stage does a double-act bite the shark?  Jump the biscuit?

Bite the shark?

And so what if the double-act – at the apogee of its creative powers – decides to flick two fingers up to the pre-destined natural life-cycle of the Partnership, steal a march on the barbarians storming the frontiers of the maturing cheese empire of their mixed-metaphor schtik, and die a dignified death on live television.

On Dancing on Ice..