Controversial comedy – Or political correctness gone mad? Ex-Veritas columnist in discrimination row

 

 

Photo: Will Andrews

 

 

In a case of preaching to the unconverted, Scottish comedian The Reverend Obadian Steppenwolfe III has been accused of “grossly crossing a line of decency and respect” by the Stirling University Students Association (SUSA), who are campaigning to have him banned from 16 student unions

The Reverend, real name Jim Muir, joked about the appearance of a transvestite student sitting in the front row of a recent student union gig in Stirling.

Mark Cullen, Vice President Services and Treasurer of SUSA, said: “There is nothing that the student movement takes more seriously than equality and he was essentially a bully. We all accept that comedy will often be cutting edge and controversial but there is a line of decency and respect that was grossly crossed.”

Dear Reverend…

 

Photo: Will Andrews

NB: The following column contains swearing and blue jokes. Proceed at your own risk… (It’s supposed to be funny, by the way).

Dear Reverend,

Since leaving me, my girlfriend goes to all the regular haunts I do. It is devastating to watch her gallivant with other men. I loathe every single man who talks to her now. My problem is that every time I try to masturbate, the only images that come into my head is her having sex with one of those boys she gets chatted up by. What can I do about this Reverend????

Richard Johnson

Jesus Christ Richard!!!
 Ease up on yourself buddy… you probably didn’t get this much fun out of her when you were together. Think about it: everybody’s happy. They get to have sex with your woman, she gets to not be with you, and you get to have a great time wanking and pretending you’re not gay. Mercy! Don’t let them judge you Richard – if any people out there say they haven’t enjoyed a good paranoid psycho-sexual gangbang fantasy then they haven’t fully enjoyed coming down off Class A drugs.

Dear Reverend,
Say I was hypothetically in love with a hypothetical lecturer, should I hypothetically tell them?

Yours,

Jennifer Lyndon

Hypothetical living: the guys at HQ have been pioneering this shit since 5,000 B.C. The kingdom is within you Jennifer, so hypothetically ‘yes’ tell him how you feel! Hypothetically I’m not here, I’m out hunting dolphins! So go for it sister, we could wake up tomorrow to find its all been hypothetical and we’re being molested by an orderly. In Africa. Amen.

Dear Reverend,
I have been seeing a guy on my course for a few weeks now, and we really want to sleep together. There’s just one problem – my third nipple. I’ve had a serious boyfriend before and he always said he didn’t mind and never told anyone else about it, but I know I may not be so lucky this time. What if he told everyone else on our course? Should I tell him beforehand and get it all out in the open, or say nothing and hope he doesn’t notice it?

Yours, in inner turmoil,
Name withheld

Girl, it’s a self esteem thing - a man would screw his own waste if it made him feel less self conscious. I know you’re looking for Daddy to say it’s ok. Baby, he can’t and I won’t. He stayed. I didn’t. But I will say this, if my journeys through the Great Lakes region of sub-Saharan Africa have shown me one thing, it’s that you can have many nipples -  two nipples, three nipples, nine nipples, the only thing that matters to a man is ‘Do you have ‘one’ vagina…and where are your brothers hiding?’  Shalome.

Dear Reverend,
What does love feel like?

Yours in anticipation,
Francine Carpenter

Dear Francine,
First off, I think we should seek to answer your problem on a journey together through the forests of central Africa. Beneath the vines we’d eat fruits, which you’d pick, and nuts, which I would have brought with me. We could ponder God’s gift to us – love – while I attempted to pump you in a tent. There we would find the answer, I hope… but for me right now, love…well, love feels like being shot out of a cannon – into a swimming pool full of dildos. 

Published in Veritas 2007

Dear Reverend…

 

Photo: Will Andrews

This time I decided to allow the Reverend to flaunt his considerable intellectual prowess and tackle some tough academic questions. Not content with sorting out your miserable ‘love’ life, he’s taking on your burning sociological and psychological queries. He doesn’t have an honorary degree from the University of Zimbabwe personally signed by Mugabe just because he’s good-looking.

What effect do the ancient Pict tribe have on the modern Scottish accent?
What chance do the ancient Picts have when logic doesn’t seem to affect the Scottish accent? Have you ever heard a Glaswegian say ‘I love you’? – it sounds like an Orc demanding a gangbang. Don’t get me wrong, I love the people of this country and the way they choose to speak – where else in the northern hemisphere can you order food with a sneeze?  Indeed the Scottish accent is recognised the world over… as a target for insurgent snipers and African gigolos. But I digress; did the ancient Picts have an effect on the Scottish accent? That would be a no. Thanks to my LSD powered sensory deprivation tank, my studies have shown that the Picts did not have language as we know it – instead they communicated largely through complex guitar arrangements and blasphemy. In finality, God has told me this to tell you that one day the people of the world shall all speak as one, in one unified accent: Mandarin.

Is time linear?
Is time linear? I don’t know. But I do know the sagging of my scrotal sack is pretty linear.  In fact if one thing tripping in two bath tubs welded together has shown me it’s that time does not exist. It is a marketing ploy – devised by Satan to get us to miss our trains. But still, if you can ask that question with your dying breath I’ll personally defend you in front of St Peter. Peace.

How can we sort out North Korea?
Love, my friend. Love and Christianity – by the sword if need be, then a 2,000 year quest for a guilt free wank. It worked for us.

Can the UN still be regarded as an effectively functioning body when it seems no longer necessary to gain its approval before entering into an international incident?
I love the U.N. Their work in Rwanda ensured we all had 5 star accommodation to return to once everyone was dead – and Kofi Annan, he has to be Daniel Day Lewis’ best work yet. But would you ask your Dad’s permission to take part in a racially motivated sex crime?
Ultimately you have to believe the U.N. is working – because if we didn’t we’d have to admit it wasn’t and then you’re one step away from strapping a crossbow to your wrist and declaring yourself War Duke of the local gas station.
Still not convinced? Then I cordially invite you to a three day screening of ‘Mars Attacks’ in my drugs barrel.

What is the true value of a Big Mac?
1p of bread roll, 1p of lettuce, 1p of cheese wax, 2 rupees of beef, 50p of beef flavouring and complimentary rats faeces. Make Mine Marvel.

What effect does the proliferation of social networking sites have on the authenticity of human representation?
I’m all for it. If it wasn’t for Myspace I wouldn’t have met my wife. Or Ian Huntley.

Published in Veritas in 2008

I’ve bean thinking of you!

 

Photo: Wikicommons

So I ended up in Dumfries the other day, hanging out with my mate who is on tour. I was riding shotgun in the van with him driving, handing him Haribos and holding the wheel when his hands were otherwise occupied.

The tour provides him with a hotel room so we rocked up to check it out. While he was taking a slash, I flicked through the hotel’s in-house magazine, a fine piece of journalism. After duly noting that tonight was a Tom Jones tribute night, explaining the blue-rinse-filled hotel lobby, I began reading about the two restaurants the Cairndale Hotel had to offer.

You know when restaurants have a theme? Not like super-cheesy where the waiters wear hats and tell you their names in this forced cheery voice, but where the theme is tastefully reflected in the name and decor of the establishment?

This restaurant had a Sawney Bean theme. To explain, Sawney Bean was the head of a Scottish clan consisting of members of his family that lived in a cave in the 15th century and subsisted on theft, murder and cannibalism.

Because they lived in a cave, it’s presumed that the children and grandchildren were the product of incest. They were finally caught after killing 30 to 40 people and executed. The men had their genitalia, hands and feet cut off and were left to bleed to death. The women and children were made to watch the men die, and then burned to death.

I repeat, this restaurant had a Sawney Bean theme.

So the restaurant was closed, but I asked at the front if I could check it out. I wasn’t gonna leave town without seeing it. After staring at me blankly for long enough for me to think she’d fallen asleep with her eyes open standing up, the chick at the front desk took me downstairs and let me in.

The restaurant was decorated with pictures depicting the life and times of the Bean Clan. Diners could enjoy good food and fine wine underneath a painting of the Bean family feasting on body parts.

In the process of my exploration of this fine dining establishment, I woke up a member of the hotel staff who seemed to be sleeping underneath one of the tables. I apologized; he straightened his uniform and hurried out.

Is everyone in Dumfries drunk?