McCheaters
Alright, we're going to play a little game of "You Be the Judge" (partly because I was inspired by Jessica's pictorial comparison of me and Iranian president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, and partly because this blog entry won't require me to write very much). A few weeks ago, I sent one of my Pillory articles to McSweeneys.net, which is an online satire magazine (sort of like The Onion, except The Onion deals basically with "fake news" articles, while McSweeney's asks specifically for everything but "fake news" articles). The response I got back from the head editor of McSweeney's was basically "Thanks, but no thanks," which was a little disappointing, not from a self-esteem standpoint, but rather from a standpoint of someone who reads McSweeney's and knows that it is very hit-or-miss (meaning it has a lot of really funny stuff, a lot of not funny stuff, and very little middle ground). I don't think I'm being cocky when I say that my article is funnier than some of the things I have read on the website. Anyways, fast forward to today, and my roommate, Elliot, tells me to check out McSweeney's because they may have stolen my article idea. In all honesty, the article ideas are sort of different (my article pokes fun at the stereotypical form of stand-up comedians while the McSweeney's article does that a little but mainly tries to come up with awkward and ridiculous stand-up comedy bits). And maybe what happened was that they were already planning on putting this article on the website and that's why they turned my article down. Anyways, here's what I'm going to do: I'm going to put both articles side by side in this blog entry, and you can be the judge of what you think happened (or simply, whose article you like more - I understand that bias may come into play here). First up, my article:
"Stand-up Comedy 101
If you’re like me, you’ve always wanted to try stand-up comedy. Sure, you’re the “funny guy” in your fraternity, but that doesn’t mean you can cut it under the bright lights. Well, fear not, because I have devised a fool-proof routine that is sure to make a stand-up comedy star out of whoever reads this article. Simply get up on stage and read the article as follows. (*Note: Don’t read the information in brackets out loud – they are meant to be directions, and they might sound patronizing to the audience)
“Hey, how’s everybody doing tonight? Awesome. Anybody here dating, huh? Anybody here on a date tonight? Haha, a couple of you don’t want to admit it. There’s one guy in the back with his arms crossed like ‘Not me, no way. I don’t know this bitch.’ [said in an overly white voice with a really funny look on your face; *Note: the beauty of this joke is that it does not even matter if there is actually a guy in the back who fits your description]
But relationships are tough though, aren’t they? One time, I went out on a date with this girl, right, and she seemed really nice and down-to-earth. So we get back to my place, and we are getting comfortable and suddenly I realized something: she had three arms. Three arms! I was like ‘Damn, bitch, I know you must’ve always won when you played tag growing up!’ [stated with a Sinbad-esque demeanor] She was even missing teeth. No joke. I went to kiss her, and I saw a sign in her mouth that said ‘Next tooth: 1 mile’ [This is the moment when you crack up at your own joke and stagger backward a little bit on the stage]
“I don’t know. Shit’s crazy. I like movies though. Anybody here like movies? Haha, there’s that guy again, crossing his arms in the back like ‘This is ridiculous. I don’t know what the hell is going on here.’ [again, really white and really funny-looking] My favorite actor is Arnold Schwarzenegger, you know, because he has that great voice. He can make anything sound like an action movie. He could just be ordering eggs and be all like, ‘I need some scrambled eggs now. [wait for laughter to die down] Did you not hear me? I said I need scramble eggs right now!’ Wouldn’t it be crazy if his waiter was somebody else famous, like Jack Nicholson or somebody. Jack would walk up to the table like, ‘Heeeeeeeeeeere’s your eggs!’ [laughter ensues; here’s where I go for the jugular by bringing back the earlier impression and having the two impressions interacting!] Arnold’s like, ‘What are you doing? These eggs are sunny-side up, and I wanted my eggs scrambled!’ Then Jack would be all like ‘You want your eggs scrambled?! You can’t handle your eggs scrambled!’ [once again, wait for raucous laughter from audience to subside] So Jack takes the eggs back to the kitchen where the cook is Bill Cosby, and he says ‘So, he is looking for his eggs to be scrambled, but you know kids say the darndest things these days and I don’t think I should scramble these eggs because if I do they might end up looking just like jello puddinnnnnnnga.’ [the important factor for the successful execution of this joke is the need sound like a drunken retard; whether or not that ends up sounding like the real Bill Cosby is truly insignificant in the eyes of the audience]
“So you guys have been great [spattered applause]. No seriously, you guys have been awesome, but I can’t get out of here without talking about the differences between white people and black people [an unnecessary and extended “ooooo” will carry over the audience]. Think about it! We are so different, and nobody has the guts to talk about it. For example, if you’re making small-talk with a white guy in the street, what does he say? He’ll say something like ‘What’s up, dude? It sure is god damn hot out here. I sure could go for a chicken salad sandwich or maybe some golf.’ And what does a black guy say? You know what he’ll say: ‘Damn, bitch. It’s hotter than a muh-fucka out here; now gimme your Reeboks before I smoke your ass.’ [there will be a short pause from the white people to make sure the black people are laughing, but once you see the black people smiling and nodding as if to say ‘It’s funny because it’s so true!,’ then you are in the clear].
[If you are able to, for a send-off bit, smash some fruit with a large, hammer-like device. Gallagher and comics of his ilk are hot right now.]
[Surely, this is the climax of the audience’s laughing spree, so it is an ideal time to leave.] Thank you Chuckle Hut [or The Ha-Ha House; or TeeHee’s; or The Knee-Jerker Tavern; or The Synonym-For-Laughing Place; or BET’s Comicview], you guys have been great!” [Try to fall into something as you exit; people love slapstick.]"
Wow. Sheer comic genius, if I must say so myself. Now, the McSweeney's article:
"MY OBSERVATIONAL
COMEDY BITS THAT
CONTINUALLY BOMB
IN COMEDY CLUBS.
BY DAN KENNEDY
- - - -
1.
Guys, you ever do that thing where your girlfriend is out of the room, and you think she's not going to be back for a while, so you're kind of relaxing and not really thinking she'll be back anytime soon, so you start to envision the entire rest of your lives together, and you feel this huge heavy weight in your chest and you want to cry for some reason, but you also feel happy and glad to have crossed paths in this life? What's up with that? You're thinking about life and love and everything, and you can see the both of you from the point of being innocent kids, then teenagers, then adults, then middle-aged adults, then aging, then gone and only photos of your lives left behind? And you're wondering who will be there to look at the photos? Like, will you have kids? Will the photos just end up at a flea market? (Start goofing around with crowd a little bit. Do the thing where you make up a name: Say, "I mean, hello? What is my name? Saddy McSadders?") Yeah, you guys in the crowd know what I'm talking about! Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about! And you feel like you're going to cry or drink or both, but then she comes back in to the room way sooner than you thought and you're, like, kinda freaking out and trying to hide it? (Point at a couple sitting in audience and say, "Yeah! Look at this guy! He knows what I'm talking about!")
2.
What's up with death? It's like: Hello? My body's going to stop working entirely at some point and nobody knows where you go after you cease to exist in this physical realm? And there may even be a chance that nothing at all happens and you don't "go" anywhere? What's up with that? Hello? (Make silly "confused" face and hold hands up like you need crowd to help you understand death.)
3.
I feel sorry for married guys. (For some reason, this opening line almost always gets a little laugh. So wait for it—and two, and three, and pick [beat] it [beat] up.) I mean, what's up with being married when you could be drinking and comparing your life to a wealthy actor's life, then going to bed and having super-vivid fantasies of what it would be like to have sex with the girl that works at the bar down the street from your apartment? (Then do this: knock on the top of the microphone with a loose fist so it sounds like somebody knocking on a door and maybe make deadpan face and say, "Bueller? Bueller?" or maybe yell in an angry voice, "Fact: Brian Wilson lost his mind when he was 28.")
4.
(Time to interact with someone in crowd a little bit.) Hello there, where are you from? Ah, New York. Born and raised? And how about your date there, the handsome gentleman you're with this evening, New York as well? Well ... you're both the kind of people I wish I could be, or could have as friends. Oddly enough, I will think about you two pretty often over the next few months from time to time, not even knowing your names, just remembering what you two look like. And I'll ascribe characteristics to each of you, values and qualities that I long for and fail to see in myself. I will, strangely enough, start to actually base my self-worth on what I think you would or wouldn't say about what I've done with my life. In some of the moments when I ponder the two of you, I'll imagine a breakup scenario that allows you (gesture to the woman) and me to start dating and reminiscing about how we met in a comedy club when I was onstage. If I think the fantasy all the way through, I'll realize that, more than making love to you, I want to simply be you. It won't figure into my sexuality at all, which is to say, it's not that I'm a man wanting to be a woman so he can make love to men.
(Ask crowd if they're having a good time tonight, and if they could make some noise. Then resume bit.)
It won't even register as some sort of fetish—it's not like I want to dress as you or anything. It's just that I'll realize I want to have these qualities that I've given you in my mind; mainly, this sort of innocent freedom of spirit without the trappings of guilt or paralyzing self-analysis. I will, for a moment, think that you were quite possibly the love of my life, and that, most likely, I missed my chance at taking the risk to tell you so. I will resolve all of this internal struggle by purchasing a modest secondhand motorcycle and riding it in the Rocky Mountains near Basalt, Colorado.
That's my time, you guys!
I've been Dan Kennedy and you've been great!
Put your hands together and keep it going for (name of next comedian on list)!"
Did I mention I thought my article is funnier? Just kidding (now, I'm just being bitter). It should be noted that this Dan Kennedy fellow is a regular contributor to the website. Things that make you go "Hmmmmmmmm..."
"Stand-up Comedy 101
If you’re like me, you’ve always wanted to try stand-up comedy. Sure, you’re the “funny guy” in your fraternity, but that doesn’t mean you can cut it under the bright lights. Well, fear not, because I have devised a fool-proof routine that is sure to make a stand-up comedy star out of whoever reads this article. Simply get up on stage and read the article as follows. (*Note: Don’t read the information in brackets out loud – they are meant to be directions, and they might sound patronizing to the audience)
“Hey, how’s everybody doing tonight? Awesome. Anybody here dating, huh? Anybody here on a date tonight? Haha, a couple of you don’t want to admit it. There’s one guy in the back with his arms crossed like ‘Not me, no way. I don’t know this bitch.’ [said in an overly white voice with a really funny look on your face; *Note: the beauty of this joke is that it does not even matter if there is actually a guy in the back who fits your description]
But relationships are tough though, aren’t they? One time, I went out on a date with this girl, right, and she seemed really nice and down-to-earth. So we get back to my place, and we are getting comfortable and suddenly I realized something: she had three arms. Three arms! I was like ‘Damn, bitch, I know you must’ve always won when you played tag growing up!’ [stated with a Sinbad-esque demeanor] She was even missing teeth. No joke. I went to kiss her, and I saw a sign in her mouth that said ‘Next tooth: 1 mile’ [This is the moment when you crack up at your own joke and stagger backward a little bit on the stage]
“I don’t know. Shit’s crazy. I like movies though. Anybody here like movies? Haha, there’s that guy again, crossing his arms in the back like ‘This is ridiculous. I don’t know what the hell is going on here.’ [again, really white and really funny-looking] My favorite actor is Arnold Schwarzenegger, you know, because he has that great voice. He can make anything sound like an action movie. He could just be ordering eggs and be all like, ‘I need some scrambled eggs now. [wait for laughter to die down] Did you not hear me? I said I need scramble eggs right now!’ Wouldn’t it be crazy if his waiter was somebody else famous, like Jack Nicholson or somebody. Jack would walk up to the table like, ‘Heeeeeeeeeeere’s your eggs!’ [laughter ensues; here’s where I go for the jugular by bringing back the earlier impression and having the two impressions interacting!] Arnold’s like, ‘What are you doing? These eggs are sunny-side up, and I wanted my eggs scrambled!’ Then Jack would be all like ‘You want your eggs scrambled?! You can’t handle your eggs scrambled!’ [once again, wait for raucous laughter from audience to subside] So Jack takes the eggs back to the kitchen where the cook is Bill Cosby, and he says ‘So, he is looking for his eggs to be scrambled, but you know kids say the darndest things these days and I don’t think I should scramble these eggs because if I do they might end up looking just like jello puddinnnnnnnga.’ [the important factor for the successful execution of this joke is the need sound like a drunken retard; whether or not that ends up sounding like the real Bill Cosby is truly insignificant in the eyes of the audience]
“So you guys have been great [spattered applause]. No seriously, you guys have been awesome, but I can’t get out of here without talking about the differences between white people and black people [an unnecessary and extended “ooooo” will carry over the audience]. Think about it! We are so different, and nobody has the guts to talk about it. For example, if you’re making small-talk with a white guy in the street, what does he say? He’ll say something like ‘What’s up, dude? It sure is god damn hot out here. I sure could go for a chicken salad sandwich or maybe some golf.’ And what does a black guy say? You know what he’ll say: ‘Damn, bitch. It’s hotter than a muh-fucka out here; now gimme your Reeboks before I smoke your ass.’ [there will be a short pause from the white people to make sure the black people are laughing, but once you see the black people smiling and nodding as if to say ‘It’s funny because it’s so true!,’ then you are in the clear].
[If you are able to, for a send-off bit, smash some fruit with a large, hammer-like device. Gallagher and comics of his ilk are hot right now.]
[Surely, this is the climax of the audience’s laughing spree, so it is an ideal time to leave.] Thank you Chuckle Hut [or The Ha-Ha House; or TeeHee’s; or The Knee-Jerker Tavern; or The Synonym-For-Laughing Place; or BET’s Comicview], you guys have been great!” [Try to fall into something as you exit; people love slapstick.]"
Wow. Sheer comic genius, if I must say so myself. Now, the McSweeney's article:
"MY OBSERVATIONAL
COMEDY BITS THAT
CONTINUALLY BOMB
IN COMEDY CLUBS.
BY DAN KENNEDY
- - - -
1.
Guys, you ever do that thing where your girlfriend is out of the room, and you think she's not going to be back for a while, so you're kind of relaxing and not really thinking she'll be back anytime soon, so you start to envision the entire rest of your lives together, and you feel this huge heavy weight in your chest and you want to cry for some reason, but you also feel happy and glad to have crossed paths in this life? What's up with that? You're thinking about life and love and everything, and you can see the both of you from the point of being innocent kids, then teenagers, then adults, then middle-aged adults, then aging, then gone and only photos of your lives left behind? And you're wondering who will be there to look at the photos? Like, will you have kids? Will the photos just end up at a flea market? (Start goofing around with crowd a little bit. Do the thing where you make up a name: Say, "I mean, hello? What is my name? Saddy McSadders?") Yeah, you guys in the crowd know what I'm talking about! Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about! And you feel like you're going to cry or drink or both, but then she comes back in to the room way sooner than you thought and you're, like, kinda freaking out and trying to hide it? (Point at a couple sitting in audience and say, "Yeah! Look at this guy! He knows what I'm talking about!")
2.
What's up with death? It's like: Hello? My body's going to stop working entirely at some point and nobody knows where you go after you cease to exist in this physical realm? And there may even be a chance that nothing at all happens and you don't "go" anywhere? What's up with that? Hello? (Make silly "confused" face and hold hands up like you need crowd to help you understand death.)
3.
I feel sorry for married guys. (For some reason, this opening line almost always gets a little laugh. So wait for it—and two, and three, and pick [beat] it [beat] up.) I mean, what's up with being married when you could be drinking and comparing your life to a wealthy actor's life, then going to bed and having super-vivid fantasies of what it would be like to have sex with the girl that works at the bar down the street from your apartment? (Then do this: knock on the top of the microphone with a loose fist so it sounds like somebody knocking on a door and maybe make deadpan face and say, "Bueller? Bueller?" or maybe yell in an angry voice, "Fact: Brian Wilson lost his mind when he was 28.")
4.
(Time to interact with someone in crowd a little bit.) Hello there, where are you from? Ah, New York. Born and raised? And how about your date there, the handsome gentleman you're with this evening, New York as well? Well ... you're both the kind of people I wish I could be, or could have as friends. Oddly enough, I will think about you two pretty often over the next few months from time to time, not even knowing your names, just remembering what you two look like. And I'll ascribe characteristics to each of you, values and qualities that I long for and fail to see in myself. I will, strangely enough, start to actually base my self-worth on what I think you would or wouldn't say about what I've done with my life. In some of the moments when I ponder the two of you, I'll imagine a breakup scenario that allows you (gesture to the woman) and me to start dating and reminiscing about how we met in a comedy club when I was onstage. If I think the fantasy all the way through, I'll realize that, more than making love to you, I want to simply be you. It won't figure into my sexuality at all, which is to say, it's not that I'm a man wanting to be a woman so he can make love to men.
(Ask crowd if they're having a good time tonight, and if they could make some noise. Then resume bit.)
It won't even register as some sort of fetish—it's not like I want to dress as you or anything. It's just that I'll realize I want to have these qualities that I've given you in my mind; mainly, this sort of innocent freedom of spirit without the trappings of guilt or paralyzing self-analysis. I will, for a moment, think that you were quite possibly the love of my life, and that, most likely, I missed my chance at taking the risk to tell you so. I will resolve all of this internal struggle by purchasing a modest secondhand motorcycle and riding it in the Rocky Mountains near Basalt, Colorado.
That's my time, you guys!
I've been Dan Kennedy and you've been great!
Put your hands together and keep it going for (name of next comedian on list)!"
Did I mention I thought my article is funnier? Just kidding (now, I'm just being bitter). It should be noted that this Dan Kennedy fellow is a regular contributor to the website. Things that make you go "Hmmmmmmmm..."
posted by Phil at
9:15 PM
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