The Apollo Theatre, Shaftesbury Avenue, London – a long, long time ago.

I dragged my feckless feet (leaden by a copious amount of red wine from the ever-alluring Covent Garden), to the velveteen seat in this overwhelming grandiose, Grade II listed building. Enchanted flamboyance, the beleaguering prospect of another Andrew Lloyd Webber & Tim Rice, West End Show and I’m Inspired by their lyric regurgitating genius with classic lines such as ‘Nasty and unequivocal you Nazi World War two criminal’, my intoxicated brain was gurgling lyrics describing my forthcoming dilemma ‘Oh woe be me, I need the bar, it’ll set me free and then I can pee but the bar is so far, so far from me. I’m in the middle of the row but I really need to go. Oh no, I can’t go, the curtain is up, there’s the beat, I will have to stay and wee in my seat’

Alas, within 10 minutes of ‘Jesus Christ Superstar’ bellowing and Hosanna’ing onto the circular stage, I’d given up alcohol and wished I had remembered the incontinence pants, I wasn’t moving. I couldn’t have cared less if the Thames flood barriers were activated, I was nailed to my seat, regardless of the protestations of my heathen bladder. The sheer power & gusto of Judas warning Jesus of his potential plight was an awakening, as his omnipotence gripped the audience;

My mind is clearer now 
At last all too well 
I can see where we all soon will be 
If you strip away 
The myth from the man 
You will see where we all soon will be 

Jesus! 
You started to believe the things they say of you 
You really do believe this talk of God is true 
And all the good you’ve done will soon get swept away 
You’ve begun to matter more than the things you say 

Listen, Jesus, I don’t like what I see 
All I ask is that you listen to me 
And remember, I’ve been your right-hand man all along 
You have set them all on fire 
They think they’ve found the new Messiah 
And they’ll hurt you when they find they’re wrong 

From that jaw-dropping, wet seat moment to this very day I have desperately wanted to play Judas, in the West-End musical masterpiece, Jesus Christ Superstar. The power poured from his character and drenched the audience in a tsunami of terror, truths, and realisation that his voice was even better than Jesus’s, who was far too busy healing cripples and annoying King Herod to concentrate on his dulcet warbling.

I have built empires and demolished burgeoning demons, through the godlike clout of goal setting and yet the ambition of playing Judas has evaded me for over a decade now, fluttering from my net, a slippery butterfly, too swift for my wrist-action to incarcerate it. Judas is my personal Harry-Houdini of goals, successfully slipping from my grasp time and time again.

”Never ever give up on your dreams’, is the customary advice I give to anyone that cares to lend an ear and whilst this particular dream of mine has been in an unshakable coma for ten years, suddenly my faith is restored, there has been divine intervention. A goal that I thought had been crucified by my own insecurities and lack of faith has been bewitchingly resurrected. One never knows from where the inspiring light will shine from but keep believing and it will shine blindingly bright and it has.

My celestial saviour, a little cockroach (not of biblical proportions but a plague nevertheless), sat behind his warrior-keyboard (manufacturing testicle-growing fertiliser), through the anonymity of emails, sent his habitual weasely snub to one of my previous blogs and called me ‘Judas’ (even better it was ‘hashtag’ Judas. Wow! bow down Pontius Pilot, there is a new Ceaser in town!)). You, sir cockroach, are a legend, you may be a modern-day social media eunuch but hands-down (but keep them off your newly grown balls), you win the underwhelming ‘Surely there’s an essential oil for insecurity & jealousy‘ award, for booting my slovenly arse back on track. Thank you. I look forward to telling Andrew Lloyd Webber himself, of how a written-off no-mark, anonymously plunged my derriere back onto the stage, to bellow out the wildest and most passionate Judas since Mr. Iscarriot himself betrayed Jesus. I will dedicate my first performance to you!

So, why did ‘Captain No-Nuts’ hashtag me ‘Judas’ in the first place?

What did I do to deserve such a lofty accolade from this oily creature?

The Judas metaphor is clearly one of betrayal for money. The misguided martyr as he is (that’s the cockroach, not Judas), used the hashtagged reference to describe past business transactions, which sadly he (and a murky handful of woeful, stone-throwing others), use as an attempt to discredit yours truly (who actually wants to be Judas!!), usually for their own financial gains. They drench people with their unintelligent, factless enemas in the vain hope anyone who actually gives a damn might just join their own crumbling businesses and there lies the gargantuan irony of all ironies.

At this moment even Judas stands to attention from his current residence, Dantes ninth circle of frozen hell. Their betrayal, misguidance of the facts and dribbling nonsense is mostly to make money to satisfy their own greed (some things never change).

Now that’s competition! EVERYONE wants to be Judas.

I am a driven individual. My successes are borne of the inspiration from dear loved ones and the haters (usually anonymous cockroaches). Both add fuel to empower my engine and harden my resolve. Thank you to both essential elements for my personal growth, I am indebted to you.

My singing lessons are booked and the stage awaits my Judas Iscariot.

2020 Haters Judas london nevergiveup stage success