Ryan

Michael Johnson is all yellow. A yellow jersey marks his involvement in a 2003 parliamentary rugby game; a yellow baseball cap embroidered with his name sits slightly askew on his head. He matches the National Union of Students activists buzzing around a table behind him; whether by accident or design is unknown. He’s in the Great Court at the University of Queensland, his alma mater, to sign the NUS “Pollie Pledge”.

“There has been harassment,“ he says, his hand gestures indicating a sense of loosely-controlled energy. “One of my supporters had a truck driven out in front of her, blocked her out from the signs, and so that was, yeah, rather unfortunate for Australian democracy.”

The Member for the western Brisbane seat of Ryan is no longer a member of the LNP. He was disendorsed in May for allegedly using parliamentary resources to try to broker a $12 million coal deal with a Chinese company. Johnson maintains his innocence, and is now contesting Ryan as an independent. He’s held the seat for three terms, nine years. He wants another. He speaks confidently. But he has the air of a man who can hear the bell tolling.

The Woman on the Bicycle

It's been an odd, and slightly troubling day.

Not least because of the 10 centimetre dent now branded on my car's passenger side door. I've had the car for less than three months. I thought I might get away without any damage for at least six.

Thigh July Near Miss

That was a near miss in Canberra. Thanks to Dan for the comic, and for saving me from myself.

So Endeth the Week of Impro

Well, I've lost my voice. But that's OK. It's been a good week.

I journeyed down to Canberra on Wednesday for the first Improvention - a gathering of improvisers from around Australia for forums, workshops and performances. It was really informative, and good to get a handle on where ImproMafia fits in on a national level. Turns out we should be damn proud of ourselves; a lot of the themes and ideas that came up in forums were things we've done, or are doing. We really are an inventive and dynamic company, and I couldn't be prouder.

I also played in two shows down in Canberra, and that was a whole bunch of fun. My fellow ImproMafioso Dan claims I gave good performances in both of them, and he only has a few small reasons to lie to me, so that's good. In the Thursday night "Sink or Swim" show, I played a coquettish spy during the French Revolution. As the night progressed, I removed first my scarf, then jacket, then jumper (Canberra is very cold). As the grand finale, I whipped off my bra from under my shirt, and presented it to my revolutionary lover as a device to help him escape jail. I realised, in the minutes that followed, just how much work my bras do during a performance.

Is it right to be slightly obsessed with a
fictional character you play?
Photo by the remarkable Kris Anderson

One of the shows was called "The Director's Mind", by Sydney impro legend and self-confessed Canadian Cale Bain. I grabbed my Q3 and did an interview with Cale about the format, during which he drank most of a beer (improvisers drinking? No!)

I also took part in a radio interview to promote the Improvention early Friday morning, despite the fact I was heading home a few hours later. Turns out working on a Julia Gillard impression was a good call.

Shenanigans in Canberra were continuing across the weekend, but I returned to Brisbane more keyed up than ever before for the massive Prognosis: Death! Yule Die Laughing show last night. We had a great audience, and a brilliant show - full of fake blood, laughter, and murderous Christmas trees. And The Wah received an absolutely caking in fake blood and green ichor. I could see him giggling as he lay onstage getting covered in slime. Normally he's the one dishing out the liquid glucose, so it was nice to see him getting a taste - a sugary, sugary taste - of his own medicine.

A Week of Impro

We had the second heat of our interschool impro comp at the Brisbane Arts Theatre this evening. It's always fun watching baby improvisers - some just 14 or 15 years old. There were lots of amusing moments; some intentional, some not. One of my highlights was a party scene where a player was told to be "Tony Abbott". She replied that she didn't know who he was. So instead she was given the much more teen-friendly Justin Bieber, while her fellow player took on the role of Leader of the Opposition. A third player - who wasn't privvy to the dishing out of characters - then had to try to guess who each of her party guests were. The girl playing Tony Abbott hitched up her shorts and talked about going swimming in Speedos. The party host looked confused, then responded:

"Are you a feminist?!?!"

And I nearly fell out of my chair. I think the internet term is "HA HA LOL ROFLCOPTER".

Anyway, it's just the start of a week of impro shenanigans, as I'm heading down to Canberra on a Wednesday red-eye to take part in the 2010 Improvention. I'll be there for a couple of days for seminars, workshops and meetings about impro - as well as performing in the Thursday night show. I urge any Canberrans bored with that whole election guff to come along to the Street Theatre for some good laughs and perhaps even a friendly drinkie afterwards.

But then! Oh, then! I'll be back, so back, back as hard as anyone can be back, for the one-off impro special of the year - Prognosis: Death! Yule Die Laughing.

This is the Christmas in July special, and it's going to be more fun than a barrel of ebola monkeys. It's on this Saturday 24 July, and tickets are just $15 adults and $10 concession. You can grab tickets at the door, or book online. The show starts at 8pm.

Long-time readers will know just how much this show means to me, how much joy I get playing these characters with my friends. This episode is designed as a one-off, so you don't need to have seen any previous episodes to enjoy Prognosis: Death! Yule Die Laughing.

Election Predictions

Elections are wonderful things, with waves of behaviour and activity that can sometimes be predicted with astonishing clarity. For example, we're just a day or so in, and Julia Gillard's already done more baby-kissing than Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing.

Maybe frenching some infants is too obvious a cliché. So I present here, in no particular order, a list of events that I believe have some reasonable chance of happening during Election 2010.

Julia's Song

Election time is here! Election time is here!

Which means it's time for me to pull out my Julia Gillard impersonation. To be honest, it's still got some way to go, but it'll have to develop over five weeks of campaigning.

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This is gonna be fun.

Newswrap

They say every oak started out as a couple of nuts that stood their ground. Channel Nine political editor Laurie Oakes showed he's got what squirrels want, when he unleashed a bombshell question on Prime Minister Julia Gillard this week. Must've been a fair bit of high-quality wood in the National Press Gallery after that one. Still, should we chastise Julia for not speaking out about a leadership deal with Kevin Rudd? After all, "Et tu, Brute?" probably wouldn't make much sense to voters, what with all that Latin.

The Vatican has raised the sin level for the attempted ordination of women to one of the most serious crimes in canon law. Now for starters, I didn't realise the folk at Ye Olde Catholick Churche had a national security-style sinful threat rating system in place. What do we call this - a scarlet alert? A Jezebel warning? A vagina crime-a? And apparently, the ruling puts ordination of women on a par with child abuse. I guess there's a certain sense of balance there - now ladies too can say they've been f***ked by priests.

BP has finally managed to pop a cap in the ass of its leaking oil well in the Gulf of Mexico.

Queensland police have dropped burglary charges against star rugby player Quade Cooper. Apparently the case fell apart when the 22-year-old explained he was just trying to steal himself a more practical first name.

Road workers in the UK have refused to remove roadkill in order to paint white centre lines on a stretch of bitumen. Apparently they weaseled out of it by insisting it was the local Council's responsibility. After a bit of badgering and howls of protest about rat-running, Council's hedgehogged its bets and decided to remove it in the beast interests of drivers... oh, bugger it, this punfest has well and truly fallen over.