"They are like the worker bees and I am the queen bee," Paul said. The show, which takes an irreverent look at the news of the week, features Paul in a host/adjudicator role, judging the efforts of two teams. The show was created by Paul and executive producer Ted Robinson. "Ted and myself have worked together before. We've done The Great Debate, DAAS Kapital, and the Big Gig. He suggested doing a show based on a similar one in England but, of course, ours is markedly different and much, much funnier."

It has been quite a good news year for the former Doug Anthony Allstars member. As well as landing his Good News Week role, earlier this year Paul was asked to join Mikey Robbins on ABC radio JJJ's breakfast show. Mikey is also a regular team leader on Good news Week and the two men enjoy an on-air rapport that is obviously sincere.

"Mikey and I have know each other for some time. It is different doing the two shows with him. In Good News Week, I'm like the father who loves all of his children, and it's very much the host role. There's also quite a physical distance between us, whereas, on JJJ we're very close physically- too close. He has been at JJJ for five years, so he knows how to operate the turntable."

"Good news Week is going really well, especially in Melbourne and Perth. But Brisbane, Queensland- well you could do better. You really could, and I say you can do it. I want you to start car-pooling, go home with four or five mates, pile into someone's house and watch the show every Friday night. Let's lift those Queensland ratings through the roof."

A LAWYER, a doctor and a plumber walk into a pub. The plumber says to the barman: "Three beers, thanks mate". He turns to the doctor and the lawyer and says: "Did you see Friends last night? The ironic construction of that scene with Rachel and Ross was brilliant, wasn't it?" "Yeah," says the doctor. "And did you see the repeat of Seinfeld where Jerry did that spray about BO: "Why can't sweat smell good? Be a different world, wouldn't it? Go down to the drug store, pick up some deodorant and perspirant. You'd have a dirty sweatsock hanging from the rearview mirror of your car.'"

What has happened? Has the traditional joke gone? Did it disappear with Maurie Fields, who had the Great Aussie Joke segment with Shane Bourne on Hey! Hey! It's Saturday? Has the clever, observational humour of modern television sitcoms - and many of the stand-up comedians who people them - sentenced the joke to the comic Ice Age?

Australians had a reputation as tellers of jokes ... stupidly long yarns that inevitably had a lame punchline, but often entertained with the sheer size of the performance in the telling. You couldn't walk into a pub or a party without being armed with a joke of some description.

"Did you hear the one about ..."

"Hey, Davo, you'll love this ..."

"Stop me if you've heard it ..."

But has the joke been stopped, even if we haven't heard it? Some blame the age of so-called political correctness. But people with an ounce of intelligence realise that political correctness is simply the notion of half-decent manners, and has been operational for years. A joke that was in poor taste in the past remains in poor taste now.

Speaking of which: Did you notice how much John Denver's music was like the plane in which he crashed: ultra light, but surprisingly down to earth?

Did you hear about the photographers killed in the Paris tunnel? They were being chased by Dannii Minogue.

Yes, we're still tasteless. The sick joke makes a comeback with each new high-profile target. The Denver joke, told on Good News Week just days after the singer plummeted to his death, was the work of the team of head writer Ian Simmons.

"With John Denver there was no redeeming political satire, no great social comment to be had," Simmons says. "Taste didn't really enter into it ... no-one cherished John Denver greatly in this office. We didn't want to be nasty for the sake of being nasty. Then we thought, what the hell? The response was huge. We had dozens of jokes we couldn't use."

Humour needs targets, and it's most often cruel. The wide-mouthed frog is a nice joke (ask any group of 10 people and you're bound to find someone to tell it to you). But the sweet ones don't often come around. Usually, someone suffers in the world of the joke. For many years it was the Irish, the Polish, the Jewish, the New Zealandush (see, couldn't help myself).

Simmons maintains that in pub and barbecue culture, the jokes still sizzle along with the snags. What's more, the comic victims can still be seen and heard: "There's something nicely subversive about the dirty joke or even the racist joke ... even if it's just the reaction, "I wouldn't be caught dead telling that'. Maybe people choose their audience a little more carefully these days.

"But the yarn tradition won't ever die in this country. And you'll always offend somebody."

The dictionary describes a joke as a humorous anecdote. The way your team performed during the footy season can also be described as a joke, but that's another story. The telling of these humorous anecdotes has not been the sole domain of the professional comedian. Indeed, many argue that your Uncle Geoff, or Ron the local butcher, or Mrs Evans, who plays golf with Mum on a Tuesday, are the best spinners of the golden thread of the joke. Of course, if you put a camera on them and asked them to repeat the gag, the result might not be so wonderful.

But who writes the things? Who pens the gags that don't come from the telly or stand-up venues, but seem to waft around the world at will? Are they found scrawled on the back of beer coasters? "I don't know," says Ian Simmons, "but I'd love to find out." Could the author of the wide-mouthed frog or the brown-paper cowboy (wanted for rustling) please call the Good News Week writers' office?

"In the last couple of years, working for Denton and on GNW, I've heard jokes told back to me that I saw written on the page by people I work with ... The heard jokes told back to me that I saw written on the page by people I work with ... There was the classic Greg Norman one, after he'd choked in another major. Why do women like Greg Norman? He's got lots of money and he always complains.

"People were very surprised by that. They think the jokes aren't written by anyone, they're just there. But someone's out there thinking about it, writing "three nuns and a gorilla' gags."

The beauty of the joke is that it's a living, growing organism. Like the Great Barrier Reef. A joke told at one end of a bar early in the night will often swing around the room, growing actions, accents and embellishments on its journey, until it arrives back late in the evening, drunk and staggering, but the same joke nonetheless.

"It's interesting to see the joke mutate in different people's hands," Simmons says. "Some people stand up and play the characters; others can do the accents. Watch how much it changes as it goes through 10 sets of hands (or lips)." Nick Murray, the chief executive officer of thecomedychannel, admits he's not a prolific teller of gags. He has a stable of regulars that he can trot out when the occasion demands, but he admits that the telling is often more enjoyable than the comic result. Murray, who is convinced that the joke is alive and well in professional and amateur circles, recalls the horror of telling a joke seemingly out of place.

"There was a horrible silence in this group of people and I covered it by telling a suicide joke. Halfway through telling the joke I suddenly realised ... the reason that everyone was silent was that a friend of ours had walked up, and someone in his family had very recently committed suicide. I was halfway through a joke with a punchline about suicide. I thought, "I have to keep going now. Can't stop.' I got to the punchline ... "this way it'll look like they committed suicide'. Total silence. You could hear the crickets. It was terrible. Then the guy laughed. It was the first time - and this is what humour's about - it was the first time anyone had actually mentioned the word suicide in his presence. "Comedy is a cathartic thing. That's why Australians tell jokes about tragedy. Americans go to therapists; Australians crack jokes about the same thing."

Murray, whose cable channel features stand-up programs such as Headliners and the brilliant satirical wit of The Larry Sanders Show, believes that the shape of the joke may have changed over the years but the tellers are still out there.

Jokes are not just the "I say, I say' style, according to Murray. They include the sarcasm and wordplay of columnists or the satire of political cartoonists. If the new style of American sitcom has done anything, it is not to have undermined the notion of the joke, he says, but to have made it more difficult for Australians, who battle network executives looking for the "next Friends or Seinfeld". No-one in TV land is prepared land is prepared or able now to invest heavily enough to develop those kinds of shows

"The irony stuff I think's terrific," Murray says. "I don't think we've seen a huge change in Australia as a result of those shows - we've had observational humour before Seinfeld made it to the TV. Jimeoin was working live on TV around the same time as Seinfeld started, with very gentle, observational humour. It's one of the few types of humour that doesn't offend people.

"By definition, comedy has a victim ... as I've had to explain to [religious] fundamentalists when they ring up to complain about something that's been on."

But complain, people do. Increasingly. And that may well have had an effect on what comedians are prepared to dish out, Murray says. "I think people are scared. I don't think they should be. It comes out pretty even in the wash; we have a go at everyone. Often characters like Alf Garnett ... it's actually having a go at the guy who is the racist, showing them up to be arseholes.

"There's the UK show with two guys living next to each other. That show back then couldn't have been mistaken for anything other than the white guy was an idiot and the black guy was incredibly tolerant of this terrible bloke livshow back then couldn't have been mistaken for anything other than the white guy was an idiot and the black guy was incredibly tolerant of this terrible bloke living next door. I don't think we should steer clear of that ... a lot of people do. If a comedian gets up and tells a joke that's politically incorrect you'll get people in the audience going "Oooh'. "Di jokes, prevailing thankfully in live venues at the moment.

"There was a live comedy show in Melbourne on the afternoon Di's death was announced. At 2.30 in the afternoon, someone got up and told a Di joke. Not very many people laughed at it ... but there it was." On the wall above the urinal in the men's toilet of a Bondi Junction pub, someone has scrawled in large letters: "Jesus saves!" Beneath it, a different hand has added: "But Cantona scores off the rebound!"

The joke will never die.

The public faces of GNW are Paul McDermott, Mikey Robbins and Julie McCrossin. They have a strange rapport with their audience- particularly McDermott, the high-profile former ratbag and now respectable GNW host. McDermott's inspired anarchy as one of the Doug Anthony AllStars won him a CULT following.

But behind the Good News scenes is a team of seven comedy writers. Only one, Rachel Spratt is new to the TV game, Ian Simmons was head writer on Denton (which also employed George and Simon Dodd, Steve Johnson and Bruce Griffiths) and satirist/cartoonist Patrick Cook (The Gillies Report) completes the team.

Until now, their job has been to write McDermott's acerbic commentaries on the news of the week for Good news Week- the rest of the cast have to think on their feet. The new Saturday night show will allow the writers to stretch their imaginations in comic skits and kick around a few ideas about poplar culture. The Good News Weekend will focus on films, television and music rather than the news of the week, Simmons says.

McDermott, Robbins and McCrossin will not have the full hour to themselves, however. They will have special guests doing stand-up routines, playing music and singing. And yes, the glorious tones of the McDermott voice box will be exercised for more than a few lonely bars- there may even be a combo or two with guests,

The writing team has been busy over the past few weeks writing comedy routines for pre-recorded skits. The rest of the show is live. "We did not kick Roy and HG out. We have been asked to fill in for them for them," Simmons says. "We are just keeping the seat warm for 10 weeks, The writers' wish list of guests included Kirk Pengilly from INXS and Fiona Horne from Def FX.

"There is not a show like it on RV now- whether that is a good or bad thing I don't know," Simmons says. "We are doing something that no one else is really doing." Drawing comparisons with something like Tonight Live draws a negative response: "Hopefully, it will be nothing like Tonight Live." Simmons's opinion of Hey Hey it's Saturday is even less than flattering. "Hey, Hey it's Saturday is past its use-by-date- its use-by date was back in 1971," he says. "It makes me so angry. It's a show which has been incredibly successful and has the reputation which gives it extraordinary access to guests. It's nice to see bands getting a chance to perform because there isn't a lot of opportunity out there for Australian acts." Of course, The Good News Weekend will give Australian acts the national spotlight but any desirable international names will be gratefully accepted, says Simmons.

Simmons, who has been writing comedy for 16 years started writing and performing in the MacQuarie University revues- he was also studying for a communication degree. He spent four years on breakfast radio before becoming a full-time writer on Denton. "I love writing. it gives me the greatest joy," Simmons says. When the new series of GNW returned this yea, a few people wrote in welcoming the show back, he says. The show has had a positive response but there are always those who are easily offended. Any jokes about religion attract letters of condemnation, he says.

"I received a great letter the other day from some guy who didn't like the story about Jeff Kennett not being allowed to receive Holy Communion," Simmon says. "To my thinking, the jokes were aimed at Jeff, not at the Catholic Church. People don't listen. As soon as they hear the word 'Pope', the switch off. He was saying we were damned because making fun of organised religion is blasphemy, unless it attacks religion such as Islam, which are clearly 'wrong'."

So how does Simmons, who wrote a song called Where Did Azaria Go? To the tune of Johnny B Good for a uni reunion, know when something is funny? "I have been getting paid for writing comedy for eight years so, whether it's arrogant or not, I trust my instinct," he says. "We want to make The Good News Weekend as different from Friday nights as we can."

With two shows a week, the writers have their work cut out for them. As it is, they are writing an episode from the moment one show ends right up until the next show is being recorded. They knew they had done something right when the ABC gave them better editing facilities this year so that GNW is recorded only a day before it goes to air, strengthening the show's immediacy. Previously it was recorded two days before it was shown.

In Perth, GNW even tied with Burke's Backyard , the king of the Friday 8pm timeslot. "GNW is one of the ABC's consistent performers. We churn it out 42 weeks of the year," Simmons says. "There aren't too many people doing that on television."

The Mercury, 8 September 1997, Sandra McLean.
News Hounds

Perhaps McDermott was relishing the avalanche of excellent Good New Week material breaking around the country.

In Queensland, a federal politician had been caught visiting a prostitute, while the state government was facing a no-confidence motion in parliament, In Canberra, the Prime minister had vetoed the heroin trial.

Each week the Good News Week team dissect the news and then ruthlessly kicks it around the studio like a bunch of naughty schoolkids. In an era ripe for satire, it's paradoxical this genre of comedy is increasingly hard to find in radio and TV.

As one of the few satirical programs on TV, Good News Week is a beacon to those who prefer comedy spiked with a wicked intelligence. The show is loosely based on the original British version but there are differences.

Executive producer Ted Robinson said the British show is aimed at the 50-plus age group and it's humour is rather genteel. Good News Week in Australia is most popular with the 18 to 39 age group and genteel isn't the equation. As Robinson said: "We are at the rabid mongrel end of the market."

And in the dog-eat-dog world of television - particularly at the cash-strapped ABC - Good News Week may well have the last laugh. Last year when the ABC learnt its budget was to be slashed, panic set in and it was rumors the show was to be axed. Yet it hung on to become one of the ABC's success stories.

Good News Week manages to traverse demographics - it's audience can range from grunge to grannies - those who listen to McDermott and Mikey Robins on Triple J to 50-plus types who relish giving the establishment a serve.

Ratings are also good, and sometimes the show beats commercial stations Seven and Ten to the No 2 spot on Friday night.