An Aussie Christmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas
But where was the snow?
For this Yuletide story
To Australia we’ll go!

Up north they’ve got reindeer
To pull Santa’s sleigh.
Down south things are different.
But how? I hear you say.

The sleigh’s pulled by wattles
And other native plants.
And instead of presents,
It carries bags of ants.aussiexmas001Saint Nick has a list
Of who’s naughty and nice.
And in rural Australia,
Who’s hepped up on ice.

You won’t see many chimneys
In Hobart or Brisbane,
So jolly Father Christmas
Climbs on down the fan.

The blades spin so quickly,
They cut him up good.
‘Til soon there’s a shower
Of festive red blood.

We feed it to the Christmas tree
Which gives you quite a shock.
I bet you weren’t expecting
To see a full-size croc!

xmascroc.pngThe crocodile’s our Christmas God.
He brings us gifts and joy
And asks for nothing but a taste
Of blood and girls and boys.

Kill all the non-believers.
Destroy their Christmas cake.
You must feed them to crocodile
The cruel legged snake.

Wombat! Beach! Et cetera!
And other Aussie things!
Forget the baby Jesus,
The funnel-web’s our king.

xmas spider.png

So keep your nog and holly
And snow that falls for miles.
Make mine an Aussie Christmas
ALL HAIL THE CROCODILE

Three Colours: Batman

Throwing up in a shopping centre toilet while dressed in the Batsuit was not the first of my encounters with the Caped Crusader. Over the years, Gotham’s protector and I have crossed paths many times – probably the most depressing being that my only real memory of my maternal grandfather is him, in his wheelchair (he suffered from MS), trying to talk to me while I completely ignored him so I could watch an episode of the 1960s Batman TV series.

Adam West’s Batman was known in our house as “Blue Batman”, and my parents for some reason made it very clear to me that there were in fact two types of Batman in the world. Blue Batman – the regular Batman who lived in the television – was beholden to the laws of gravity like a Batchump, while Black Batman (a mysterious, shadowy figure who existed in the dark shadows of M-Rated Movieland) somehow had the power of flight. Having since seen Tim Burton’s Batman, I can understand the mistake, although I will never forgive them for making me a laughing stock in primary school when I tried to explain the distinction without actually having seen the film.

Show-off.

My own Batman costume – originally known as “Grey Batman” until its gritty reboot as “Grey And Dirt Colour Batman” – lasted for about two months before it fell apart from being worn and slept in every single day. But in those two months, I had one of the best and weirdest days of my life when, on a Sunday afternoon trip to the playground, I met my Robin. He was a boy called Michael, about my age but slightly shorter, who had inexplicably showed up at the park with his mother – and he was dressed as the Boy Wonder.

We spent an afternoon of derring-do and action together, a pint-sized Dynamic Duo swinging on monkey bars and jumping off swings with our capes fluttering behind us, until the shadows grew long and it was time to go home. Grey And Dirt Colour Batman and Regular Colour Robin made their farewells, and disappeared into the night.

I never saw Michael after that day, which means I never got to ask him the question that has been burning a Bat-shaped hole in my brain ever since: what kind of kid has so little self-confidence that they show up to a park on their own, dressed as Robin?

The kind who also needs fake abs, I guess.

A year or so later, when I was five or six, my Irish Granny and Grandad (Dad’s parents) went on a holiday to Warner Bros Movie World on the Gold Coast. We went to visit them after they’d come back, and while we were there Grandad pulled out a photo. It was of him and Granny, standing in one of the theme park’s streets, and standing next to them was none other than…

No. It couldn’t be.

My Granny and Grandad had somehow managed to have their photo taken with Black Batman. Black. Batman. The most powerful of all the Batmans, with the power of flight and the ability to be seen only by grown-ups.

I was at a loss. I stared at the photo, gaping. “Is that… do you know… you… Batman?”

Grandad nodded. “And you know what the funny thing is?” he asked, in his Belfast brogue.

I shook my head.

“Just before we took this photo, he said to me ‘you’re Patrick Magee’s Grandad, aren’t you?'”

If I hadn’t already been to the toilet that morning, I would have peed my pants there and then. And then I would have burst in an explosion of over-excited child, splattering the walls of granny and grandad’s Penrith home with blood and goo and whatever else was inside me (probably biscuits and/or chicken Twisties). NOT ONLY had my Grandad met Black Batman, but Black Batman KNEW WHO I WAS.

With the advantage of twenty-two years of hindsight, it’s now clear to me that this was, at best, an unlikely scenario. Unless Black Batman went around asking every Irishman over the age of sixty if they were my grandad, there’s simply no way he’d have been able to identify Patrick Joseph Magee as the grandfather of the five or six year old Patrick Alexander Eden Magee, known crybaby and sooky lah lah. Then again, he is the World’s Greatest Detective, so I guess the jury’s still out, or at least it would be if Batman had any respect for the judicial system.

But right there and then, I could not have been happier. I asked grandad if I could borrow the photo, and the very next day, in front of Mrs Moore’s year one class, I retold the story of how Black Batman definitely knew who I was.

And this time, I had the photo to prove it.

Tony Abbott Resigns After Reading Satirical Article Online

tonyabbott

Australian Prime Minister Tony Abbott today announced his resignation after reading a satirical article about himself online.

“It really came as a shock,” said Mr Abbott at a press conference, “finding out that people on the Internet thought of me like that. I honestly believed I was doing a pretty good job, but I always said that all it’d take for me to resign would be one snarkily written article on a website.”

“I guess that day has come.”

“I suppose I’d assumed it’d be the horrific human rights abuses, or the cosying up to big business at the expense of action on climate change, or even the blatant attempts to destroy and degrade the working class that’d bring me down. But no, it was once the counter on that article ticked over to 10K shares on Facebook that I knew my days in the Lodge were numbered.”

Mr Abbott also announced that he would be reversing all legislation and policies that had been satirised during his time in office, including Operation Sovereign Borders, the GP co-payment and his own ears. He also made a personal request that people stop sharing the gif of him winking during an ABC Local Radio interview (see below) as he “hadn’t realised how creepy it looked until it had been repeatedly used in a number of online opinion pieces to prove some point or other.”

The article’s author, Sydney-based comedian and satirist Robert Polycarp, released a statement after Mr Abbott’s announcement. “The time has come for the Australian public to realise that all it takes to make the world a better place is not through engagement with democracy or by direct action, but for one man to write a humorous article in which a well-known politician is put into a situation you wouldn’t normally expect them to be in, or where their beliefs and policies are taken to a hilariously wacky extreme.”

“And for people to share that article amongst all their like-minded friends, obviously.”

“For those who accuse us Australian satirists of wanking into the echo chamber,” continued Polycarp, “let me say this: today, the echo chamber has made its smug, sticky voice heard!”

In related news, Opposition Leader Bill Shorten also announced his resignation, for the same reason as Tony Abbott. When pressed, Mr Shorten admitted that he hadn’t actually read any satirical articles about himself, but that he was “sure there had to be some out there, right guys? Guys?”

NB: Some of my best friends are satirists.

When he’s not wanking into the echo chamber, Patrick Magee was the third tropical storm and first hurricane of the 2003 Atlantic hurricane season. You can follow him on Twitter here or like him on Facebook here.

The 10 SCARIEST Two Sentence Stories Ever Told!

  1. I was just drifting off to sleep when my daughter said “Daddy, I’m scared.” My daughter is a werewolf.
  2. You hear the sound of breaking glass. When you look outside, you can see a bunch of teenagers drinking cider and throwing the bottles against the wall – teenage SKELETONS!
  3. With a jolt, he realised that the term “finger food” was all too appropriate. He’d been using his fingers instead of a knife and fork to eat the delicious buffet of human remains laid out in front of him.
  4. When my girlfriend died, I didn’t think someone would dig up her corpse, break into my house and hide it in my bed. And I didn’t think that someone would be MY OWN GHOST.
  5. Don’t know what’s more unsettling: the fact that my TV wakes me up every night or the fact that it’s unplugged every night. And did I mention it’s full of Frankensteins every night?
  6. Working the graveyard shift alone tonight. Alone, that is, except for the massive DRACULA who also works in the same building (note: building is a graveyard).
  7. I say goodnight to my family and go to sleep. When I wake up, I’m in a padded cell and also have just pooed myself.
  8. There was a knock at the door. He went up to open it but then he remembered that he was actually dead or something, I guess.
  9. Are dinosaurs scary? If so, imagine a dinner party but with dinosaurs instead of people.
  10. Monster Dad?

#NoMakeupSelfie: An Open Letter To Cancer

Dear Cancer,

Bad news, buddy. Your time has come. It’s been a long, hard struggle, but we can now finally say that we’ve eradicated cancer from the world entirely. And it’s all down to one person, one humble, everyday hero – me.

You’re probably wondering how I did it – science? medicine? the dark arts/necromancy? No. I took a photo of myself without makeup and posted it on Facebook. Through doing that, I raised awareness – before I posted that photo, most people had probably never even heard of cancer.

Johnny Science will tell you that cancer has a wide variety of causes and treatments that make it unsuitable for a one-size-fits-all approach. Professor Test-tube would have you think that the way to cure cancer is through regular donations of actual cash money, and his pal Doctor Bunsen McCatscan reckons that it requires a continued commitment by successive governments to fund cancer research institutes. They couldn’t be more wrong.

Raising awareness is the only way to cure cancer, because the more people that look at cancer, the less deadly it becomes. Like those ghosts in Super Mario 64. Just by writing about cancer now, I’m helping to raise awareness. And I’m making it look both easy and sexy, which is ultimately how I’d like to be remembered.

This isn’t the first time I’ve changed the world, of course. A few years ago, I shared a video about a robot called KONY-2012, who was programmed to kidnap children. As is my understanding, it was as a direct result of me posting that video to Twitter that led to Mr Two-Thousand-And-Twelve being arrested and fired directly into the Sun, which as we know is the traditional method of deactivating a murderous robot.

Am I a hero? In many ways, yes. In many other ways, also yes. It takes a certain kind of bravery to post a photo of my face on the Internet; the same kind of bravery I think Leonardo da Vinci displayed when he painted his famous Mona Lisa Without Makeup to raise awareness of the Black Death. Of course, getting likes was a lot easier in those days because basically everyone lived in the same village, so you could get your message across pretty easily.

I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that I am a bigger genius than Leonardo da Vinci.

These days, I have to make sure my message of awareness goes global. If every person in the world liked my no makeup selfie, that would be over 200 likes. And that’s all it takes. A lot of people don’t realise how easy it is to change the world. Many of my friends (read: idiots) go to protest marches or volunteer for various organisations. What they don’t seem to understand is that they’re wasting their own time and everyone else’s time – every second they spend marching or making phonecalls to solicit donations could be spent liking charities on Facebook, reposting meaningless platitudes on Facebook, or helping Courtney Love find that missing plane by ending all their tweets with a #MH370 hashtag.

Plus, a lot of my friends have been members of these organisations like UNICEF or AMNESTY for years and years, which as we all know is ridiculous: most issues such as cancer or war crimes clear up after a few days. If they didn’t, people would still be talking about them, and they’re not. QED.

And that’s the story of how I cured you, cancer. The rest of you don’t need to thank me, but if you could follow me on Twitter or like my Facebook page, maybe we can change the world together, one click at a time. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to put my penis in a sock. It’s not for any charity in particular, I just really like the feeling of a poly-cotton blend on my cock.

Yours,

Patrick Magee

Pulling My Finger Out: My New Year’s Resolutions

The secret to a good New Year’s resolution is to not tell anybody about it. That way, you can fail to keep it and you’ll only have to deal with your own sense of self-disappointment… which is always there anyway, so it’s like I haven’t failed at all, SUCKERS!

With this in mind, I’m writing this very public list of my New Year’s resolutions so that Future Patrick won’t be able to make any excuses and wriggle out of them. He’ll hate me for a long time, but I’ve bought that guy enough ice tea and Berocca for tomorrow morning that I think he’ll eventually forgive me.

What follows is a list of my nine major New Year’s resolutions, ranked from least difficult to most difficult. By putting them up here, I’m asking my readers, followers and friends to hold me accountable – and, if possible, to help out. No man is an island, except for that one that totally is, and any support that anyone out there can offer would be greatly appreciated.

Here we go…

9. Win The Tropfest

After Matt Hardie proved this year that it was possible to win the world’s largest short film festival armed with nothing more than a dream in your heart, a camera in your hand and an unintentionally homophobic subtext in your soul, I’ve decided to knuckle down and win Tropfest 2014.

This shouldn’t be too difficult as (a) I have already acted in a Tropfest-winning film and (b) I have an at best juvenile sense of humour. Of all my resolutions, I think this one is the most achievable.

8. Write A One Man Show For The 2014 Sydney Fringe

In 2013, I briefly became an international Doctor Who celebrity by writing and performing in the show Pat Magee – Every Episode Of Doctor Who Ever Live On Stage, a tribute to my twin obsessions (Doctor Who and “being the centre of attention”). This year, I want to follow in the footsteps of my sexy friends Steen Raskopoulos and Susie Youssef and create a one-man sketch/stand-up/storytelling show.

comedian

(final draft)

Possible titles for this show include: Patrick Magee Wears An Increasingly Tenuous Series Of Hats, Patrick Magee Has Glued His Hand To The Back Of His Head or my personal favourite, Patrick Magee Is A Cute Girl With A Fringe And A Guitar. Other suggestions are welcome.

(As a sub-resolution, I am thinking about getting back into stand-up after a break of a year and a half. This could well be a terrible idea, and if it is please tell me.)

7. Buy Some New Shoes

Pretty self-explanatory.

6. Finish My Difficult Second Novel/Play

A lot of people ask me how I managed to write my first book, As Baile: A Story, and the answer’s always the same: I was unemployed in London for three months and wrote the novel in a misguided attempt to make my ex-girlfriend love me again. Unfortunately, those very specific and soul-destroying circumstances have not cropped up again, and I’ve been sitting around on my arse instead of writing a follow-up.

In 2014, I’m going to stop making excuses and get something written, be it The Clowns of Piccadilly Circus or the Great Australian Play I’ve had banging around in my head for the last couple of weeks.

5. Eat An Avocado

Let’s get this out of the way: I don’t like avocadoes. They have always reminded me of Mr Toad from Cosgrove Hall’s wonderful adaptation of The Wind in the Willows, and I can never shake off the feeling that if I try to eat one it will start talking to me in the voice of David Jason.

“On a per-weight basis, I contain 35% more potassium than a banana! Poot poot!”

But since literally everyone in the world seems to think that these alligator-skinned slime-commas are the most delicious fruit that ever there was, I’m willing to admit I might be wrong. So a large portion of my 2014 is going to be building up to eating an entire avocado without feeling like I’ve devoured an important part of my childhood.

4. Start Working In An Industry Job

Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love my jobs: drama tutor, Belvoir box office monkey, and general manager of Full Body Contact No Love Tennis (Sydney’s Greatest Improv Night™). But I’m one of the last in my circle of friends and colleagues to still be working casual hours while they’re off achieving wonderful things in the worlds of comedy, radio and TV. So this year, I want to get my foot in the rung of the industry ladder – even if it’s just working as a runner or junior vice deputy researcher. Any assistance would be greatly appreciated.

3. Make My Muscles Bigger

I literally have no idea how to do this. I’m aware that there are some magic potions out there that taste like milkshakes and they make you strong, but since I don’t like milkshakes I’m not sure what my options are here. Maybe this resolution requires a sub-resolution: Learn To Like Milkshakes.

getafix

Or, alternatively, Become Friends With A Druid

My current workout regime consists of me doing as many push-ups as I can to the theme music of Hercules: The Legendary Journeys. The image of Kevin Sorbo’s muscles in that misjudged yellow vest is a constant inspiration to me, both as a sex symbol and as an actor.

2. Chill The Fuck Out

“For the longest time, I did nothing about my anxiety. I had learnt to rationalise it as just a part of my life, as a chemical imbalance in my brain that I had no means of controlling. But that doesn’t have to be the case, and it’s not going to be the case. I’ve decided I’m going to take active steps to deal with my anxiety, starting with this blog post. I’ve started doing meditation and next year I’ll be attending counselling in an attempt to overcome this disorder I’ve been living with since forever. I’m genuinely excited about the prospect of being happier and more productive in my life.”

That’s from my post On High Alert For Jabberwock Attacks, and I reposted it here because it’s still relevant and also I am very lazy.

1. Write A New Post Every Week

In 2013, this blog received over 12 000 unique views. The three most popular posts were How To Win A Tropfest, On High Alert For Jabberwock Attacks and Why I Should Be The Next Doctor Who.

Most of my readers are from Australia, the UK and the US, although there’s also a surprisingly large contingent from Brazil (olá leitores fidelizados!).  What I’ve learnt over the last twelve months is that the most important thing in any of the creative industries is to keep producing content, and so in 2014 I’m committing to putting something new here at least once a week; it could be reviews, short stories, or recipes for delicious avocado-based milkshakes.

(They’ll all be in Portuguese, because with the Rio World Cup just around the corner, it’s time to start cashing in on Brazilian fever.)

So that’s my 2014 sorted. What are everyone else’s plans?

When not writing unfeasible lists of goals, Patrick Magee is a king of Dál Riata from circa 574 until circa 609. You can follow him on Twitter, like him on Facebook or go and look at his new Doctor Who/Upworthy parody.