Monthly Archives: January 2004

Why?

If there were one thing I would change about myself it would be that I get bogged down in unimportant details periodically. I have a sense of order in my head and when it’s disrupted I expend energy trying to “fix” whatever it is, although I logically realize it is merely my flawed perception of order.

So, at work, I am a known resource for all things grants and policy related, which is a good thing. But, I also numb people with boring levels of arcane, esoteric, yeah whatever just answer my question already context. OK, that last bit is an overstatement, someone just thanked me for providing them detailed context for a problem, but I do go to far sometimes in trying to get something “right.”

I say all of the above, because I realize I have no control over the “comedy scene,” such as it is or its individual constituents. So, I get frustrated when they, the other individuals, don’t follow the view of comedy that I hold. For example, my slam last night in regard to the literal-minded young comic who busted my chops over an incorrect literary reference. In truth, of course, my reference was off the mark. But, in my world view right now there is a huge glut of “comedians” who I believe rely too much on cleverness.

In my pure construct, stand-up comedy has a huge component of truth and honesty. The funny comes from the fact that life is funny, human existence is funny, blah, blah, blah. Good jokes scan organically, you can’t see the construction, the wires and pulleys and whatnots that hold it up. Like any good story, you hear the story rather than observe the literary trappings that are the delivery system.

My favorite comics often don’t sound at all like they are telling jokes.

But, all around Boston at the moment, it feels like there are many people formulaically spewing bon mots without context or honesty. It’s very, “Hey, listen to me, because I am clever and quick and have read many books that only clever, quick people read.” Turning a metaphor into a literal translation furthers no dialogue and tells me nothing about you, the teller, and what makes your viewpoint unique. It’s like candy, empty mental calories. Yes, that word does sound like this other word and it would be wacky if they were confused. But, so?

But, the larger question is, why do I care? Why does it bug me? Why not render onto the candy people what is theirs and go tend my own garden and garble and mix metaphors in my own way without worrying about them?

I don’t know why, but every now and again I grab opportunities to bitch slap the clever. It’s a complete waste of my time, logically, yet I feel compelled.

It’s actually the same reason I stopped doing improv. Improv is very fun when people invest in the scene and the dialogue develops, because you are all throwing into that scene. It freezes (and becomes hard to watch) the minute someone makes a choice to promote something that doesn’t further the scene. Sure, it might be a clever reference or a well-done character, but we are all standing around now at your mercy while the scene itself hits the floor.

The kind of stand-up I hate stops the show in the same gears grinding way. If in your cleverness you throw out a joke about another comic’s set, etc. that spotlights your “talent” but doesn’t build from the other comic’s base, I think you are negating the other performance. As with improv, your job is to build the show up by not denying what has gone before. Riff on other jokes/comedians, call them back, even disagree, but if you find yourself telling the audience how you would have done that differently or you are clearly mocking what they do, shut up. Don’t try to make yourself king of the mountain, let the audience pick you by moving the show forward.

OK, I’ve blown philosophical shit out of my ass long enough. I suppose I should work on the stuff that pays my bills.

Why can't I slap people?

So, earlier today I made a quick reference to King Lear on the Studio Kvetchboard. I was being glib and made a reference about Lear ripping out his eyeballs that was an incorrect reference. I know that I was wrong, partially because it was a glib reference in passing, so I didn’t give a shit enough to fanatically check detail (which I often do), and because this boy comic pointed it out. I will vent enough to say what I don’t enjoy about his conversational skills, arguments or comedy is his habit of deconstructing everything to a literal state. He appears to believe that this method shows his cleverness and intelligience. I find it mind-numbingly boring. Most of his jokes I have to think of other things entirely, like laundry or root canal surgery, to prevent myself from screaming, “Listen you precocious fuckhead, it’s a metaphor. An image. Get it? It’s not real, it’s a picture. Sit down.”

OK, now that I have that out of my system, what I really wanted to post there, since I know there are many actors and theater majors who read the board (but stopped posting in the whirlwind of morons, see below.)

Anyone out there know of a modern play with a name like “Lear!”?

When I was in London in the 80s, I saw a production at the Pit in the Barbican Theater that had a name like that. What I remember dimly, but would like to get confirmation on is this machine that was wheeled up on stage. The actor put his face up to it, and it appeared realistically like his eyeballs had been excised from his skull. There was plenty of fake blood and white balls dropping wetly into special receptacles in the machine. It’s one of those memories that almost lacks content, so if there were a play I could read, or information on a weird pop interpretation, I would use it to color in the dim details.

Every year I forget more and more about stuff I once saw or read. I suppose it gets supplanted by new stuff, but still and all it’s tough to swallow.

Slurs I like

Someone accessed my website today, because they searched “I hate chinks.”

Just to be clear, I don’t really hate chinks, gooks, queers, dykes, micks, harps, hebes or bean eaters. I like the words, and I like the people.

And, I have to say, I especially like “jaundy boys,” a term I only just learned.

I could live without Guidos.

Oh, and if you are a racist asshole like me, this site is very helpful.

However, I have to point out that “Herring Choker” was part of my youth, and there were no Scandanavians to taunt, so I disagree with the website.

I always took it to refer to either a generic, “mackerel snapper” kind of reference to the Roman Catholic Friday fish habit (which my Catholic mother, who distrusted most clergy including the Pope, insisted was an economic decision out of Rome favoring fishermen who are all RCs, except for maybe in Japan) or the Irish fishermen who ended up in Newfoundland and Nova Scotia. For some reason I can’t follow, the urban, Boston Irish immigrants in my family tree would look down their noses at the herring chokers from Canada (who also alledgedly were recognizable by their fat ankles and buried their dead vertically by hammering them into the winter permafrost). Of course, in that same fine parsing of meager superiority among trashy immigrants, no one seems to know (or talk about) where I got my very French/French Canadian sounding surname in the midst of the more typical Irish American names.

Speaking of Canadians, they are lame. On the same racial slur website, they refer to Americans as Hot Dog Eaters. Fucking creative, eh?

Best toy

I’m simultaneously happy and disappointed with McDonald’s. I finally got a fun Happy Meal toy. It’s a little “Lilo” of Lilo and Stitch. The fun part is the Play-doh that comes with it. (As an aside, George Foreman has a Play-doh grill with sizzling sound. I love him.) Anyway, the Play-doh extrudes from around Lilo’s waist creating a circle of Play-doh strap-ons.

I’m disappointed, however, that McDonald’s does not appear to have pictures of their Happy Meals on their website, as they used to, so I can’t share Lilo’s porntastic Play-doh effect with the world.

On a bright note, they do have all sorts of bullshit information on how eating McDonald’s can be part of a healthy diet.

Maybe I’m just jaded on Play-doh, because as a kid one of my favorite toys was the Funny Pumper. I would sit on the floor extruding for hours as the adults around me snickered at my industry. Only later, as an adult, did I come to appreciate the humor in extrusion.

Hate

I hate people. OK, mostly I just hate people who post here. Which is why I wish people would post here instead. On this alternative, non-commercial site, one could tell idiots they are idiots without fear of a nicey nice reprisal.

It makes no sense that I get aggravated, since it truly is a waste of my energy, but where there was once a vital community there is now vapidity. For example, if you are new to stand-up comedy performance, NO, it is not best to learn it through observation or discussion. Writers write, performers perform, loggers log, fishermen fish, preachers preach. They do not log into a website to suppose on these things. If you want to masturbate, go to your room, dim the lights and for fuck’s sake turn up the stereo so we don’t have to hear your feeble moans and groans.

In the same vein, when posting to a community website for “comedy” and you suck on stage as a comic, you probably suck in this forum as well. You know how the audience doesn’t universally laugh at your bon mots? It’s because they are not funny, either because your work is obvious and trite or you have not as yet honed your craft to elicit the giggle you seek. In short, save your snappy, yet lame, rejoinder unless it is helpful to your fellow readers or you are supremely certain without one pale shadowed sliver of doubt it’s funny.

Finally, you are not all intellectuals. Arguably, many of you are feeble-minded, perhaps educable at best. I am sure that your mommies and daddies have told you wonderful things about your abilities. They lied. There is no Santa Claus either.

Your leaps into didacticism are precocious. The preciousness of your youthful endeavors are matched only by the naivete of your world view. One of the strange little quirks of life is that in youth you burn with a fever to parse and opine and thrust your treatise upon the world, despite it’s very core being unformed and underdeveloped, because your world view is far more myopic than you can know. As you age, your treatise will gain flesh, blood and depth, but, alas, by then the fever will have subsided and your desire to scream your opinions from the mountaintop will be tempered by your desire to hear other opinions and to silently think.

Someday soon, I think I should compile and enemies list here, just for kicks. It would be much more civilized than heads on pikes arranged around my yard.

Maybe I shouldn’t spend all weekend alone. Misanthropy is fun and all, but do I want to make it a lifestyle?

Does anyone fall for this?

Here’s an email I got today:

Dear Online-Citibank Clients,

This message was sent by the Citicard serevrs to veerify your e-mail
addres. You must clempote this pecsros by clicking on the link
below and enteering in the smmall window your Citi-Bank Debit
full Card nummber and PiN that you use on Atm.
This is done for your perctotion -T- becourse some of our memmbers no
lengor have acescs to their email adsersdes and we must verify it.

To veerify your e-mail adress and akcess your OnlineCitibank account, klick on
the link beloow. If ntohing happnes when you clik on the link -K copye
and paste the link into the addres bar of your web browser.

http://www.citibank.com/?jrkph5eDbfeAAUxm5ZVbbW8qnZte9j8uMtU4z8TJnWkYPTlWRh

———————————————
Thank you for using Citbiank!
———————————————

This automatic email snet to: dee-rob@attbi.com
Do not rpely to this email.

83ehvChZQpjZU7rOc2XU

The first tip off that this might be a scam – I’m not a Citibank customer. Apart from that, though, it comes from a computer world without spell check. I’m thinking the major banking institutes know about spell check.

What I can’t figure out is why does the link actually bring you to Citibank? If it’s a scam, it’s kind of conscientious.

Lazy, cold and unwashed

The record temperatures have brought me the excuse I need to be an unbelievable slug. I am still in the sweats I slept in and have my feet under blankets.

Really, apart from the suckass weather, every now and again I completely enjoy being a recluse. Fuck you world, I’m not all up into that “interaction” folks seem so proud about.

Hopelessly uncool

Sometimes the show you’re in goes well, and you feel like you are part of the wellness. Then, at the end of the show, someone whose HBO Special you watched, obviously from the distance of television, shakes your hand and gives you the “good job” nod.

Yup, it’s unabashedly unhip to admit it, but that’s alright.

Sometimes the Great and Secret Show is fucking fun.

Uncharacteristically base

I am so totally back from California. It’s fucking freezing in Boston, the kind of air outside that makes your lungs hurt when you breathe.

The other thing that reminds me that I am indeed home is bowel movements. I know, what the fuck is she getting all fecal about? It’s that travel thing, when your body says, “hey this is a different place, I don’t think I feel like shitting.” Maybe there was some shy bowely bit from being with M. But, he lived with me right before he left, and it seemed like we were comfortable enough with one another that shit happened, as it were. We weren’t all freaky comfortable, getting our scat on, just simple human beings living simple lives. Now that I am home, though, my bowels sense the freedom and move, baby, move. (Basically, this entire paragraph was an excuse for me to link to one of the baser human fetishes, because isn’t that what the Internet is all about. But, alas, it seems at the very least imprudent to link to a porn site while on the work computer, so I didn’t go there. Not to mention I don’t really want to see what that free trial tour would look like.)

I think the whole paragraph above is based on the interesting traffic a Google search can bring. Among the searches that have brought people here are “private homepage gay scat,” “‘bathed together’+’growing up,'”‘child free’+breeders+asia,” “keep my priorities straight at work,” “WACKY COMEDY” and possibly my favorite, because I would search it, too, “seconal valley of the dolls.”

I also like “brother sister story pics sally fuck -xxx -free -tgp -anal -incest” for two reasons. One, that is fucking specific. What is it like, you need an anal story w/pics, but even better would be if it was incestuous, but not just incestuous, but brother and sister. And it should be good. And, the sister’s name would be Sally, I guess (unless “sally” means something I haven’t learned yet, which is probably just as well, since I’m not that kind of a freak).

The second reason is because of the Sally part. Since it figures the Sally I know would turn up in fucked up searches.

I apologize to the entire Internet if anyone is trying to search for something useful (such as “Easy Glide Mop,” “fun surveys -paid” and “getting in the mood”) and found me instead.

Non sequitur

Here is something close to what my version of hell would entail:

Starting Over.

I think that I would quickly get thrown out of the house for my uncoachable attitude. But I hope it wouldn’t be for mocking the Mormon chick who was walking around with a bindi, because Hindus don’t seem nearly as fucked up as Mormons.