Tuesday, 20 April 2010

JON RONSON APPEARING AT SKEPTICS IN THE PUB


One of my contemporary heroes is appearing in Leicester this evening. Jon Ronson is speaking at the monthly meeting of Skeptics in the Pub, at The Park in Hotel Street.

For anyone who doesn't know the man or his work, Jon Ronson is a writer and documentary film maker. His books, Them: Adventures With Extremists and The Men Who Stare At Goats have been international bestsellers. The latter has been made into a "major motion picture" (don't all films describe themselves thus?) starring George Clooney, Ewan McGregor, Kevin Spacey and Jeff Bridges. He's also the author of two collections of his columns and essays, OutOf The Ordinary: True Tales of Everyday Craziness and What I do: More True Tales of Everyday Craziness. He's written the popular "Human Zoo" and "Out of the Ordinary" columns for the Guardian Weekend, to which he still contributes features. He currently writes and presents the twice-Sony nominated BBC Radio 4 series, Jon Ronson On.... Jon has made a number of films for Channel 4 including the acclaimed five part series Secret Rulers of the World and the multi award-winning Tottenham Ayatollah. His most recent documentaries are Reverend Death (Channel 4), Stanley Kubrick's Boxes (More4) and Robbie Williams and Jon Ronson Journey to the Other Side (Radio 4). In the US, he is a contributor to Public Radio International's This American Life. (Much of this information has been pinched from Jon's own website).

Throughout the day, I've been following Jon's tweets in advance of this evening's meeting:
jonronson Off to Leicester for Skeptics in the Pub even though my nose and mouth feel like a million tiny ants have dug holes in them.
jonronson All I can say, Leicester Skeptics, is don't expect me to be in the least bit funny or interesting. I'm really ill. See you in a bit!
jonronson Just arrived at Leicester station. Don't know what to do or where to go. Skeptics: help.
jonronson Oh God. I am ill and unmet at Leicester station and my gums hurt and I want to go to bed.
jonronson Am met and alive and in zizzi.

I've seen Jon Ronson once before in Leicester, in autumn 2006 at Phoenix Arts. A whole Friday evening was devoted to documentaries and discussion related to conspiracy theories (main themes being the supposed faking of the moon landings and the "truth" behind 9/11). The programme started at 1715; I left just before midnight and it looked like it could have gone on all night. It may well have done for all I know. Jon was light, engaging and funny. He's not so much interested in conspiracy theories as he is in the people who devote themselves to conspiracy theories - whether they're trying to push them, debunk them, or are at the centre of them. Come to that, it's best to say that he's interested in people. And he's self-deprecating to the nth degree. I envy his insight and admire his writing. I'd been able to ask him a question from the audience that night, spoke briefly with him at the interval and prevailed upon him to sign several of his books (I'm such a fanboy!)

If he's still unfamiliar to you, faithful reader, consider him the thinking man's Louis Theroux - a topic which itself contributes to Jon's schtick, as the following recent tweet attests:
jonronson As some know, I've always thought of me and Louis as conjoined twins, in that for one of us to grow stronger the other must die.

Though, to be fair, he also tweeted this right after:
jonronson Actually, Louis is really getting brilliant."

So, back to the present: I'm otherwise engaged for most of this evening at two consecutive meetings of the Council of Faiths. Those meetings wrap up around nine and I dash the few hundred yards from the Welcome Centre down to The Park, just in time to hear the last bit of the Q&A. When the "formal" part of the presentation finishes, I push my way through to say hello to Jon, remind him of our meeting last time he came to Leicester (which he says he remembers - bless him), tell him I've been reading his tweets, muse on our mystery sore throats being induced by the descent of dust from the Icelandic volcanic ashcloud and get him to sign a copy of What I Do (the only book of his I owned which was as yet still unsigned). I'm glad I get to do that, at least. Later that evening, one last tweet from Jon:
jonronson Thanks to all the Leicester sceptics for being so fab.

All's well that ends well.

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