‘Cancelled’ is quite a buzzword of our times, isn’t it? Up until about ten days ago, it referred mainly to cancel culture, that ability of Twitter mobs to rule on whether or not a celebrity misdemeanour means the end of celebrity for that celebrity. But recently someone tweeted me the words: ‘Nature: “I’ll show you cancel culture.”’ It’s true. Suddenly, the idea of the world ending — or at least, theatres, art galleries and musicals shut down for the foreseeable future — has lessened the trepidation felt by the targets of cancel culture. Which means the apocalypse may be accompanied by an outbreak of famous people with terrible views saying long bottled-up racist, sexist and transphobic things in a kind of ‘it doesn’t matter now — we’re all going down anyway’ rush.
I have one particular ‘cancellation’ issue: my own tour has been cancelled. I was performing, in theatres all over the country, a one-man show about social media, Trolls: Not the Dolls.
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