Last night, at OMG Glasgow, Robert Wringham (above) announced that he was a paedophile.* It was a bold opening remark and one that instantly captured the attention and imagination of the audience. Fortunately for all concerned, he was only an active paedo when he himself was below the age of consent. So, assuming she was up for it, the eight fourteen year old girl would also have been committing a crime — thus cancelling it out (that is how the law works, isn’t it?).
Curated by Fergus Mitchell (above), OMG Glasgow is a comedy/poetry/confessional night where people read from their teenage diaries. It took place in Offshore Cafe, where the strongest drink was ginger beer, something which made a huge difference to the atmosphere (sober people are so much more engaged in what is going on and don’t talk over the top of the performers). Only one act was ruined when, unwilling to wait for the intermission, I ordered a drink requiring the noisy gargle of the gaggia.
The line about Rob being a kiddy fiddler helps us to understand our fascination with the OMG concept: to what extent are you your teenage self? How many years have to pass before you are distanced enough from your old self to see them as a different person? Or can you never really escape your past? Are you condemned to carry your past self inside like a homunculus who wakes up occasionally and reminds you of something embarrassing. Most of the performers laughed at their teenaged twitterings, but I imagine that, had I not destroyed my past self from history as if he were a Trotskyite in Stalin’s Russia, I would find it difficult to be too harsh on him.
At some point last night I did half wonder whether people who kept hold of mementos from their past — diaries, letters, schoolbooks — were more balanced than those of us who destroy and repress. But then I was reminded by his mate Claire that Rob is hardly the poster boy for the well-adjusted. Nevertheless, what set Rob’s diary reading apart from those of the other performers is that he provided a commentary on the experiences described — giving a sense of vertigo as the present and past offered perspectives on one another.
* By the way, for those who have found this site via a Google search for Neil Scott, I am NOT this one.
“It was a bold opening remark and one that instantly captured the attention and imagination of the audience.”
Haha. That’s one way of putting it. “An awed hush and a walk-out” might be another. Needless to say I was very happy with the result.