Arts Emergency, at Hackney Empire, review Anyway: the upshot is I sort of like Jimmy Carr again. Because, whatever I may think of his act, at least he isn't the type of sanctimonious pillock who bays things like, "You're not one of us." At first he didn't handle the abuse very convincingly ("At what point did I lose it, do you think?"). But after a while he wisely decided to make himself look the bigger man by saying they were entitled to hate him, and that all that mattered was that they'd come to support this wonderful charity. The person I felt sorry for was Josie Long, the compère, who was plainly bewildered by the abuse. The gig was in aid of a charity she co-founded, Arts Emergency, which supports arts students from poor backgrounds. I'm no fan of her act (far too cheerful for a miserable cynic like me), but she'd put on a fine line-up, including the comic poet Tim Key; the writer Joe Dunthorne (who did a very funny reading from his novel Submarine); and Mark Watson ("I'm 33, but this year I got ID'd buying fine wine in Marks & Spencer. The guy said, "Have you got any proof you're over 18?" I said, "Yes, I'm in Marks & Spencer""). Then on came Carr. If my grandmother knew how much money I spent on her funeral... she'd be spinning in her ditch. And that was one of the more printable gags. Soon he was struggling to think of one that wouldn't prompt bellows of offence. It'll have to involve tax and me not being a c---. I don't think I've got any like that... Good show, good cause, bad ending.