Elves are wonderful. They provoke wonder
Elves are marvellous. They cause marvels
Elves are fantastic. The create fantasies
Elves are glamorous. They project glamour
Elves are enchanting. They weave enchantment
Elves are terrific. The beget terror.

Over the past few days, erudite and well-respected representatives of the homosexual community such as Hannah Gadsby and Senator Penny Wong have expressed concern that the holding of a national plebiscite on the question of same sex marriage in Australia will give a platform to people to express hatred. Opposition Leader Bill Shorten has also, rather vacuously, announced that he intends to “hold Malcolm Turnbull personally responsible for every bit of hateful filth” that is produced by the debate.

Tonight, taken by a sudden pensive and melancholy mood, I stood on my balcony staring moodily into the bushes that line the fence between our block of flats and the next one. As is often the case when you sit quietly and stare at the foliage in Australia, I started to notice tell-tale signs of movement; there was something alive in there.

And now for the latest instalment in Kim and Garry’s theatrical adventures.

After we had such a blast being part of The Taming of the Shrew with Nash Theatre, we’ve followed it up with Nash’s next production: Oscar Wilde’s Lady Windermere’s Fan.

I have a long established tradition of only doing plays where the main characters die at the end: The Cripple of Inishmaan (sort of), Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, Jesus Christ Superstar - there’s a distinct pattern here. Somehow we even managed to do it in the Taming of the Shrew. So what I thought was “I really need to branch out and try something a little more light-hearted."

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