EDINBURGH FRINGE FESTIVAL REVIEW

Gilded Balloon at the Honeycomb Until 30 August Friday, August 13 1999   WHAT would you do in the world's last hour? Wil Anderson would entertain you with his goofy, giggly, hyper stand-up superbabble, seizing subjects such as a lick-tastic solution to racism, bumper stickers that slay secrets of lust and inadequacy, and Australia. Wil holds a mirror to the Aussie bloke in his audience, whom we slyly inspect in all his droopy, drunken, dubious glory. Asked the above question, an example of this species answered: "Get pissed," and shortly afterwards admitted his occupation, that of computer programmer. "So that's why you wouldn't have sex then!" pounced Will, to gleeful audience cackling. Later in the show, Will warned us of the dangers of Jerusalem syndrome, when even atheists become the Messiah in Wil's world. Nerds, beware, and religious types and fellow Australians, close your eyes in holy dread, for Willenium Bugs are big-eyed and itchy-footed and they will find you in your hiding place, even if you are a shy reviewer who doesn't know that hash is a button on the telephone. "Welcome to my last show this Fringe, ladies and gentlemen," sighed Will. It will not be. Go and see Will, he is very funny, but do not talk to him of telephones. By Stephanie Hills