In praise of - the mob heckle.

Let it be known that I am not a heckler.

I do live with one, a man who seems to be able to throw out, as if from the ether, strange, surreal, and sometimes prescient yelps.

What I am talking about here is not the individual, lone voice in the crowd, but the rumble of the mob, the kind of mass heckle that I have found frequently at the Edinburgh Fringe's long-running stand-up session, Late and Live.

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