Category: The Blog

Dok Haze’s Circus of Horrors: The Night of the Zombie – a review


Roll up, roll up, for the greatest show on Earth and below: Dok Haze’s Circus of Horrors is in town. Frome Town to be exact.

COH dr-haze-glam_jpg
Dok Haze

I was pleased to see a good cross-section of Frome’s wonderful people waiting in the theatre foyer from Vans and Dolce&Gabbana trainers, a classic monster movies print dress (so cool!) to knitted flowerpot hats and M&S casual daywear.

COH Nosferatu and the Sinister Sisters
Nosferatu and the Sinister Sisters

As people took their seats, Nosferatu crept up and down the aisles silently choosing vibrant victims for his pleasure.

The show burst into life with screaming riffs and heavy drums. Immediately, I thought I was at Alice Cooper’s Welcome To My Nightmare show (in Detroit, no less). In fact, I read in the Tour Brochure, which I had purchased from a very healthy-looking Zombie girl, that Mr Cooper made a special appearance at one of the COH’s shows – kudos, Mr Haze.

COH Sycho Sean and Deadly Doyna.
Sycho Sean and Deadly Doyna.
COH Sergey the Seducer and Hanna the Hell Woman
Sergey the Seducer and Hanna the Hell Woman
COH Voodoo Warriors
The Voodoo Warriors
COH the Sinister Sisters
The Sinister Sisters

The scene was set for us. After the blood of two virgins (the Sinister Sisters) seeps into London’s rotting plague victims, the dead begin to rise. I heard screams from behind me. I turned and saw a wave of zombies crawling over the heads of the audience. Great touch. Welcome to the Circus of Horrors: The Night of the Zombie!

COH zombie-zowie
Zombie Zowie

The hard rock intro was to be the soundtrack for the evening, driving the action on with electrified energy and it suited the performance tremendously as the audience were treated to sword and cutlass swallowing, knife throwing, fire-breathing, hair-hanging feats, aerialists, acrobats, and dancing girls.

COH Daniel
Captain Dan

The ‘relief’ came from Nosferatu, a camp vampire who fails at card tricks, and Captain Dan who is a rather proud member of the COH. Their crazy antics managed to shock a few members of the audience. (Poor Benji).

And that was the first half.

COH hannibal
Hannibal the Sword-Swallower

I thought it was slow to pick up after the interval but it got there especially with the dancing skeletons, and from then on it was a hoot with some great visual displays that made the audience applaud, cheer and gasp.

COH Anastasia IV hair-hanging wonder
Anastasia IV

The climax was like a rock show, and at one point I heard Dok Haze shout at the crowd as if he was Ozzy Ozbourne!

I’ve never known the Memorial Theatre to rock, but it certainly did tonight thanks to the Circus of Horrors and all the talented performers who put on a great show.

The Jukebox Series – the lemon song

The posts in this series aren’t going to be witty, and probably not even interesting. They’re not going to be a social commentary, or a sermon, and I don’t expect comments. They will be just a bunch of very short recollections of things that have made smile. I hope they make you smile too.

There are several moments in my life which I remember vividly, this includes the music that was playing at the time. Music is very important to me. It provides an energy; a buzz that spurs me on through the day.

I’d like to share the songs that have stuck with me and the memories they conjure whenever I hear them. Thought I’d start with The Lemon Song by Led Zeppelin.

Over twelve years ago I was seeing a girl who lived in a flat several miles outside London. I lived three hours away and every Friday evening I would ride the distance to stay at her place for the weekend.

Early on Saturdays I would wake, go into the kitchen, and brew some coffee. When I was there the very first morning, I heard the girl pad to the bathroom. I turned, looked down the hall and saw that she had not shut the door and was standing facing the sink with her back to me. She wore nothing but a sarong tied low on her hips. Her legs were straight as she leaned slightly forward and used her left hand to draw her long dark hair clear of her face. That girl stole a piece of my heart as she brushed her teeth.

This tune was playing at the time:


Misconceptions, Notices … and Regrets.

When I was a boy I held the misconception that adults knew what they were talking about. Discovering that they didn’t was a relief, on the whole. However, some things should just be known.

I took a relative to hospital yesterday and as I was sitting in the waiting room I spotted a notice written on a white-board, which read:


At first, I was comforted by Remembrance Day being marked by the NHS and the opportunity to tune into the collective consciousness given to the sick. Then I noticed the errors. I have never been part of the Grammar Police, so maybe it was my age, or the fact that it was a wet, wintry day, or the promise of a four-hour wait, that stirred my irritation, but I don’t think so. When I had children, I found that many of the things which had never really mattered were suddenly carved in stone tablets and hung from my neck while some bearded gent bellowed them constantly from a mountain just in case I’d forget.

The urge to walk over to the white-board and amend the notice was huge. With a little sleight of hand, my finger could erase the rogue apostrophe. The other mistakes would be more taxing. A pen, nay a dry-wipe marker pen, would be needed – I ended up wanting to rewrite the notice. Of course, there wasn’t a marker handy in case some vandal tampered with the important information, or some bored detainee doodled to pass the hours. I would have to ask the receptionist if I could borrow one.

I didn’t ask for the marker. I took out my own pen and wrote a blog post about misconceptions, notices … and regrets. I didn’t look at that sign again: my frustration was out on paper and I was content knowing that I was prepared to correct the mistakes. It was only when I left, that I regretted not having a smudge of ink on my fingertip.