The first time Joel Creasey went to the town of Colac, Victoria (population 10,857), he was abused by a man who was apparently offended that Creasey is gay. The second time Creasey went to the town of Colac, he was chased by a group of young men who were also offended that he is gay. The third time Creasey went to Colac, he took a film crew and another gay comedian, Rhys Nicholson, in order to see what would happen. The results of this experiment are on ABC2 tomorrow night in a documentary called The Gaycrashers. We don't want to spoil the suspense by revealing how the two comedians fared – except to note that they managed to inseminate a cow – but it's possible Creasey might now be willing to revise his earlier theory that Colac is the most homophobic town in Australia. Creasey, who started his career as a stand-up comedian at the age of 17, and now, at 24, spends half the year working in comedy clubs in America, says he does not set out to make his audiences angry. "If I'm touring regionally I know what stuff they want to hear. I want my job to be easy. I want them to laugh and I want to have a good time. I'm not going to go out of my way to piss them off. I'm going to tailor a set to that audience. I'll talk about my mum having too many drinks at Christmas." But when he visited Colac in 2011 as part of a Melbourne Comedy Festival roadshow, things started to go wrong. "After the gig, one guy made a homophobic remark to me and it kind of became a bigger deal than it was, because standing near him was a reporter from the Colac Herald and she ran an article in the paper about how I was abused," Creasey recalls. "A local anti-discrimination group invited me back to host an anti-homophobia event for gay youths, and there were these 17-year-old guys in there taunting the other young men at the event, and I sort of stood up to them and they were waiting outside to chase me to my car as I left. It's just my being gay that some people find confronting, but at the end of the day that's far more their problem than mine. "And then last year some Perth filmmakers, Tom Rohr and Nel Minchin, said to me 'Hey, do you want to go back to Colac and see if the town really is homophobic?' Rhys Nicholson had never been there before and I thought it was my responsibility to take him to see the sights." And how did they come to inseminate a cow? "We met this farmer, Oliver, who was the most open-minded guy you could possibly meet, and people like that made me go 'OK, Colac's not such a backward town'. "We went to help him on the farm - just what you want, two young gay cityfolk who've never done any hard work in their lives to come and help you on the farm first thing in the morning. We had to inseminate some cows. We actually made Rhys place the syringe in the cow's rear end, that was his job." So they left a memento of their visit? "Yes, I assume the cows are knocked up now. I guess if we go back we'll find our little calves wearing skinny leg jeans. I'm sure they're going to be really fabulous, these calves." The Gaycrashers, the first episode of the documentary series Opening Shot, airs on Monday, 9.30pm, ABC2. Drama easy, comedy hard Working as head writer for Black Comedy, the sketch series that started during the week on the ABC, has been "a revelation" for Jon Bell, who had only written for series such as Redfern Now and The Gods of Wheat Street up until then. He found sketch comedy "heaps more demanding" than he'd expected. His earlier shows contained scenes that were funny, but "in a drama, when you set up a joke, you can keep coming back to the well for more, you can get 50 pages out of one idea. With sketch comedy you have to have so many ideas, and when you've done the idea, it's gone. The characters don't need any development. They're more like caricatures. "I had to go back to a real basic sense of what a joke is. Here's the set-up and here's the punchline, and it's nothing more than that. "With drama you can go for something more oblique and more abstract. You can make films like Terrence Malick that are almost incomprehensible, you can't quite get them, but at the same time they are beautiful to watch. You might think about them for hours. But if you were an upcoming comic and that happened, you'd have to go and get another job. "Comedy can have a deeper meaning, but only if it makes you laugh in the first place. It's not something you can ruminate on. Either you laugh or you don't." But there's more to Bell's jokes than instant giggles. They often make a social point. One continuing gag in the series is a police squad called Blakforce, who arrest people for not being Aboriginal enough. In one sketch, the cops accuse a young black man of eating kale, causing his mother to break down and sob that she'd noticed he hadn't consumed KFC for weeks. When I wondered whether that was playing into racial stereotypes, Bell suggested I was taking it too seriously. "Misinterpretation is always a risk when you're not just trying to do a banana-peel joke, when you're trying to give it a sociological context. That's OK. As long as it makes people laugh, whatever their viewpoint is. "That's more of a class joke than a race joke. I'm a big KFC eater but if you live in an area like Newtown you've always got people who are falling for the latest superfood fad. That joke was born out of how blackfellas think we should act. There's a whole hypocrisy of people not being allowed to be just people." So will Bell write more comedy in the future? "I still don't know if I actually cracked it. I like to pay bills. If there's a job, I'll take it. I'm a worker. If I was lucky enough to have a bit of a go at both, I'd enjoy that." Black Comedy airs on Wednesdays, 9.30pm, ABC. The future knows you Channel Seven took its advertisers on "a journey" decorated with every conceivable bell and whistle at Sydney's Fox studios last month to show them how best to invest their money next year. Seven executives and personalities kept popping out from behind screens to announce a revival of My Restaurant Rules (under the name Restaurant Revolution); a documentary series called Australia – The Story of Us, which was "40,000 years in the making"; a crime thriller called Catching Milat; and new drama series involving the former Rafter parents – Winter, with Rebecca Gibney as a detective who wears a lot of eye make-up, and 800 Words, with Erik Thomson as a columnist who takes his kids to New Zealand for a seachange. But mainly, the Seven heavies demonstrated their mastery of the latest media jargon. Apparently next year's news won't just be reported – it will be "curated". Newsreader Mark Ferguson told the advertisers that Seven has access to 10 million "data points" about its viewers, so you can be sent news (and advertising) that is "personalised" to your location and interests. Seven's chief executive, Tim Worner, used the term "circling the wagons" for Seven's plan to integrate the "broadcast, mobile and tablet ecosystem" with advertising and editorial in magazines like New Idea and Better Homes and Gardens. This will let customers "experience an event on all platforms, including those that haven't been invented yet". Consumers of My Kitchen Rules and House Rules will be able to go online during a program and order the products used by the contestants. Seven's "turbo-charged engine room" is an "aggregator of audiences" able to deliver "blue-chip viewers" who are open to marketing messages because they have shared "piracy-proof" programming that generates "pure emotions" such as "pride, heartbreak, despair and intoxicating joy". Oh yes, Seven knows all about you and what you can be persuaded to want. Isn't that reassuring? For more, go to smh.com.au/entertainment/blog/the-tribal-mind.