JACKSON'S WAY, AUGUST 2004

The American motivational speaker has rapidly become a staple of character comedy, which returns to the fringe in cycles of approximately three years. On paper then, Will Adamsdale’s Chris John Jackson, author of Maximum Jackson and inventor of the philosophy of Jackson’s Way, is not an appetising proposition. But Adamsdale merely uses this familiar trope as a framing device for a rigorously funny, and often poignant, exploration of the human imagination. Jackson’s theory is this. Around every action that has a point, such as walking along, waving at someone, or looking at an interesting event, exists a vast unexplored area of pointless actions, an untapped reservoir for human non-achievement. Jackson demonstrates some of his favorites. He attempts to put his hand in two places at once. He tries to make the words People and Church rhyme. He fails to drag the stage into a small glass. None of these things are possible.

This, he explains, is the zone Jacksonites must strive to inhabit, and he encourages his audience to pepper their lives with similarly futile activities. It is not made clear how Jackson arrived at this zen-like state of grace, though there are vague allusions to an embarrassing incident in a business park, and memories of his older brother seem to weigh heavily upon him. Jackson occupies the thin sliver of space that exists between the socially acceptable delusions of faith and religion, and the socially unacceptable delusions of mental illness. It is a wonderful region to visit. And it stays with you. On leaving the venue I took a wrong turn alongside a parked car, ended up trapped between the vehicle and a brick wall, and had to turn back upon myself, but instead of being irritated I was momentarily elated. I had completed my first Jacksonian action.