The thing about writing (as I do) in contemporary settings dealing with contemporary themes and issues is that sometimes elections happen or society changes and suddenly you're not as clever as you thought you were.

Last year, after writing a play in which Paris Hilton was recast as an intellectual, I had a major panic one night at about four in the morning that something terrible might befall Paris Hilton in the week leading up to our comedy festival show. Making light of Paris Hilton's intellectual choices might suddenly be uncool, cruel, depressing and pointless. Likewise, a play about an Australian girl seeking asylum in another country on account of the undemocratic actions of her government might seem ludicrous were it not justifiable in reference to the reality that has befallen us in recent years. Not a great deal of this is apparently set to change any time soon, but writing is a very specific form of expression and unless you work completely in metaphor or set your play in the sixteenth century, you do find yourself having to do the occasional rewrite.

Hence I object to the placement of a major political event in between the conception of our comedy festival show and the comedy festival itself. I don't really want to drag the federal election campaign out any more than it already has been, but could we just pop it all on hold until July do you think?

No? Well I do hope you like the show I am writing called LIFE ON ANOTHER PLANET IN A TIME OTHER THAN THIS ONE. Should be easy enough - I'm just not entirely sure it's going to be a thigh slapping or particularly relevant piece of theatre. Election in July. Come on, you know you want to.

Wow. Just when you think you're on top of things, someone goes and bees clever.

Thank you to the very dedicated Daniel, who has made my life approximately nine thousand times more liveable by creating this, which I hereby propose the Melbourne Film Festival PAY HIM to turn into a website.

Excellent work.

So far I have only booked two films, which is hoplessly slack of me, but I will make up for it in the watching, oh yes I will.

I have noticed lately that I am FINALLY experiencing the "post show slump", which until now I thought I had escaped.

I think every autobiography or biography of a writer has the word "antisocial" somewhere in the index. For someone who is usually very social, the post-show slump and period of reinvention after having written something and before writing the next thing must be a very surprising period for the writer's friends (if the writer still has friends, having inflicted this period on many of them over a period of years).

My mobile phone is broken. Normally, this would have been fixed immediately. Thus far, I have had a broken phone for three weeks. This is both a metaphor for my inability to fix things, and the side effect of my belief that the grumpy introspection of this post-show slump period should not be inflicted on anyone.

Having said that, the only way to fix the post show slump is to swim against the tide. Bring on the friends, I say, and possibly a new haircut.

We got our film festival tickets today (last day to get the early bird tickets, so hurry up kids)...

Last year, I saw about four films a day.

This year, I intend to beat my previous record. How I am going to afford this, given it will require me to take time off my already infrequent day job, is one of those "play-it-by-ear" kind of scenarios.

I realise this means that most of my year has so far been taken up with festivals. April and May were the comedy festival, June was the Sydney Writers' Festival, and July and August are the Melbourne Film Festival. How on earth I get anything else done is beyond me. Probably because getting anything done is also beyond me. I can feel The Guilt creeping sneakily back into the cracks between my debt and my lack of time to do anything productive on account of my debt.

The circle, the circle of life, as The Lion King would say.

Speaking of wasting time you don' t have enough of, here is an exciting opportunity in this excellent area of study:

Looks like our friend Dave Eggers is writing about films for The New Yorker. With Anthony Lane! Oh to be a fly on that wall. Read this.

I know I am.

So I've got the post festival bug.

This time, it comes in the form of the common cold. Touch wood. If it becomes the post festival secondary infection, then I'll be really annoyed.

By the way, here is a reason why finishing your show in the comedy festival can be good:

... other stuff exists!...

Here's some other stuff:

Anthony Lane has reviewed Spidey 3 here. Worth it just for his description of Harry Osborne's "agonized, drawn-out desire to make Spider-Man pay", which Anthony Lane reckons "makes Hamlet’s revenge look like a snap decision". Apeehee.

Since the comedy festival, I have also read What Is The What, by the ever so slightly clever Dave Eggers. It's an astonshing story, about this guy. Wow.

Also, check out this film. Stew and Rita worked on it, which is obviously why it's getting such brilliant reviews. (The involvement of Matthew, Trevor, Laszlo, and the entire rest of the cast and crew might have something to do with it, but you guys can make up your own minds. Who am I to say?).

Other things I have found myself doing on the way to recovering from the comedy festival:

1. Saw this sci-fi movie, despite the flimsy premise.

2. Saw this, which is a massive waste of money, especially if you compare it with the book I've just finished reading.

3. Slept.

So now I'm back in the real world and I'm crawling through work and I am so tired I can hardly see. I'm basically walking around with arms and legs but that's about all I'm doing. I'm doing an impression of myself. An impersonation. I'm doing a Lorin impersonation. Not a very good one.

Tonight, after another day catching up at work, I had a shiatsu massage at my favourite place in Melbourne, possibly the universe: the Japanese Bathhouse. Oh my lordy, that place is really something.

Aaaaaaaaanyhoo, once the goddess there had finished turning my body to liquid, she asked why I was so tired. I said I'd just done a comedy festival show.

She said, "Ah. The Comedy Festival. We've had a few of those."

I felt like I was the veteran of some shattered, defeated, crippled, brave army.

And in a way I guess I am.

Look at me, back in the first week of production, setting up my office outside the Kino Dendy in Collins Place. Just look at me. So awake. So focussed. So ready for the challenges of the weeks to come. WHAT A FOOL!

What a crazy, carefree fool!

I think, for now, I will aim for loftier things.

I think perhaps I should aim for more of this....

.... Now that's something I'm good at.

Tonight is the final night of the Melbourne International Comedy Festival for 2007. Last night was the awards night. We were invited to a special invite-only VIP showpony room.

It turned out to be a hot, steamy glass box serving watered down cordial and cheesy rice balls. There's a photo of it here. We're the ones in the fish tank up the top.

We were invited because we were nominated for a Golden Gibbo Award, which we didn't win.

However, the jury is still out on the competition that matters: perhaps we will never know who won the inaugural Melbourne Comedy Festival Cartwheel Competition we held in Trades Hall last Saturday night, because in retrospect it seems there was no independent arbiter. Perhaps we should have noticed this at the time. Should documentary footage ever emerge, however, my money is on Michael Roper, whose technique (honed by years of aerobic dance training at high school) is close to a 9.5 in my professional opinion.

So, what does all this mean? It means the festival is over.

It means we have to go back to our real lives.

It means, in other words, that all we do for the next two weeks is talk about how much fun we had and bask in our retrospective glory.

To make this easier for everyone, here is a snapshot:

Over a thousand people saw our show over three weeks (14 shows).
One of those people was my grade 4/5/6 teacher!
We were reviewed very nicely in The Age, The Groggy Squirrel and The Pun.
Up until now, we had never been reviewed in a public newspaper, ever, by anyone, at any time.
Some of us were misquoted in the press and consequently have updated ASIO files.
Some of us were photographed looking like children with special needs for the local papers.
Our first festival show was nominated for an award.
There were 288 shows in the festival.
My favourite was ours
Because...

These people are now my friends. I choose to get the giggles with these guys.

So guess what?

After our final show (which was enormously fun) For We Are Young And Free was nominated for a Golden Gibbo Award. For more details, see the news items on our homepage. Here is a clandestine video recording of the shortlist being announced...