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Thursday 28th March 2013

Thursday 28th March 2013

And another step forward in this year's Edinburgh Fringe show with the delivery of the main image for the poster. Steve Brown has done another fantastic job taking the image of me crawling out of a grass covered table on his boat and turning it into me seemingly exiting my own grave. I am very pleased with it: it's striking and a little scary and sets the right tone. I hope I can do the poster justice with the actual show. Once again I've chosen subject matter that will repel many potential audience members and my guess is that it won't be the perfect night out for the recently bereaved (though it might be).
Probably the best thing I can do artistically speaking is to die before the Fringe, but once the advert had gone in the programme. Then the poster will serve as a depressing memorial to me every time anyone flicks through it (and even the grave stone dates would be right - could I be tempting the easily temptable fate any more). If I do die I would like my body frozen and then placed on stage for the hour of my show time. I hope people would pay to see it. Ironically an hour of icy silence might say more about death than I could manage in 60 minutes of talking. Please make this happen if I do pass on in the next few months. It is literally what I would have wanted. Also I would have wanted for everyone to buy my books and DVDs as a tribute. And I bet a month in a freezer will be cheaper (and possibly warmer) than a month in an Edinburgh flat.
It'd be a particularly fantastic statement if on the last performance I burst out of the block of ice and revealed the whole thing had been an elaborate publicity stunt. And even better it would save me writing a show.
I wonder if anyone has done a show in Edinburgh after they've died. Not a tribute show or a hologram show, but something they're written in advance that can play out to an audience once they've gone. Perhaps an urn containing their ashes on stage (rather than the gruesome and impractical freezing option) and a recording of their voice or a screen projecting words that they have written to be read. This might be away to keep my presence at the Fringe running into the 21st century. I could do a different hour for every year (it'd be tough to do topical stuff, but I could try) and not have to rise from my grave to come and do it. And I could just sublet someone's kitchen cupboard for my urn to be kept in when it's not on stage and only have to pay £1000 in rent.
This is quite an awesome idea. I almost want to die now so I can put it into practice. But there's no rush. This will work as well in 60 years time as it does now. What a gimmick though. The Dead Comedian. Maybe with some help from a skilful operator you could even cope with hecklers. "What's wrong with you guys? You're colder than I am." "There's just no justice is there, I'm dead and this waste of oxygen is alive." I could live forever. This might just be the best idea I've ever had. "Richard Herring is Dead - what's your excuse?"
I'd definitely be more popular than I was when I was alive and I'd never get to see my own success. It's the perfect epitaph to my so-called career.
But whilst we're all still breathng, we've also got the guests confirmed for the Richard Herring's Leicester Square Podcast, but at the Machynlleth Festival (RHLSTP (BATMF)) on May 4th. I will be trying to get a word in edgewise with all three Pappys. It's only £6 and for those of you unable to get to this brilliant Welsh festival it will be released as a free audio download - Buy tickets here. You can also catch Talking Cock that night.
Still no definite bookings for the London run of RHLSTP, but some pretty exciting nibbles.
And any Londoners who want to see Talking Cock, the two dates on 12th and 13th April are very nearly sold out. I will be recording the DVD on the 13th so delighted that it's going to be a full theatre. Buy tickets here.
See all the remaining dates here. There's only one ticket left for Stafford next week, though more than expected and usual for Cardiff - so spread the word to the seaweed eaters.

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