My Talk Is Dirty But My Boots Are Clean.

I love writing.

Comedy.

I Can't Tell What Kind Of Life I've Led Today

For some reason, we as a species feel the need to simultaneously worship and destroy our heroes. It makes sense, perhaps, from a narcissistic perspective, to build up the idea that humans can achieve greatness while at the same time denigrating the greatness of those who happen to not be us. A more important lesson, I feel, is that while none of us is perfect, it is possible to be fundamentally flawed and still do great things. That's heroism, to me. So, feel free to run your mouth about how Dr. King was a womanizer or whatever. I'm not saying it's true, but if it is, who gives a damn? Ad hominem attacks are never going to take away from the importance and greatness of what Dr. King accomplished in his life and through the works his memory inspired in those who came after. So, take that, haters.

The recent film adaptation of "Beowulf" turned out to be a pretty amazing meditation on heroism, and I'm sorry that it has taken me so long to get around to this film. It was at times absurd in an almost Shrek or Austin Powers sense, but the overall theme of the film was that, basically, our heroes are jerks. They make terrible decisions sometimes, sometimes when it really matters, and are just as ruled by fears and desires as the rest of us. But, in true heroic fashion, we can overcome our baser selves and even undo the sins of our past if we're willing to make the choices and the sacrifices necessary to do so. Plus, it turns out that 3D is actually pretty damn cool.

So, that's what makes heroes so special, I guess. It's not the ways in which they are better or stronger than us, but rather the ways in which they are just as weak and fearful. Their successes remind us that we can do it, too. And maybe that demystification is the greatest gift a hero can give.

And for some reason, there's this.

Them Other Fuckers Don’t Know How To Act.

At the risk of a beatdown from the Tiny King Of Face-Kicking, Mr. Chuck Norris, let me me the latest to say: Gov. Huckabee is a jackass. Mike Huckabee, on the other hand, is a really cool guy that I'd like to befriend. He's warm, affable, seems to care about people, but then says some of the stupidest, craziest shit I've ever heard. The Book of Genesis is a literal history book, gay sex = bestiality, rapists should be let out of prison if they raped a Clinton, income tax is evil, and states should be free to honor relics of bigotry and treason. Fantastic. Stay in the race, you unelectable nutjob. Make Mitt or Rudy or John or whoever spend some serious time and treasure to win back the soft-headed Bush-lovers who want you to bring them four more years of this crap.

So, anyway... I'm hosting at the Loony Bin in Oklahoma City with Susan Smith and Marge Tackes this week. You might know them as The Untamed Shrews. Also, be forewarned that "these bitches is outta control." They're also incredibly nice people and some of the filthiest performers I've ever seen. Last night was fun, especially the late show. It may be apocryphal, but I've head a quote attributed to Steve Martin that the Friday Late Show is why he no longer does standup comedy. People work all week, get home, start drinking and by the time 22:30 rolls around they're either ready to pass out or a *touch* belligerent. Add to it that a lot of people are just generally boorish and ill-mannered. Kinda sucks. But, I love the late shows. I don't know why, but I usually have a great time with the audiences.

Last night was no exception. I had a really good set, but once I got to the business end of it all, a table up front decided it was time to start talking, loudly, as though I were a television commercial to be ignored until the program returns. I had to stop twice and scold them, once verbally and once with a glare that only substitute teachers ever perfect. After I got off the stage, the club owner told me it was "awesome," and that she'd never seen an emcee stop like that to make people stop talking. It was a few minutes later that she got on the phone and got me my first out-of-state booking. That's right, *this guy* is gonna be going to a little place called "Little Rock" next month. Jealous? Yeah, I thought so.

As my brother pointed out yesterday, Friday night is cool. Well, really he was quoting Butthead. Yes, a direct Butthead quote from my MENSA-joining lawyer of a brother. But both he and Butthead are correct. Friday Night is cool.

Stare At The TV Screen. I Don't Know What To Do.

So, a few years ago I worked on this pilot. It could have been funny, but it was doomed. DOOMED, I says! Watch the hideous thing or don't. Either way, it will continue to exist. It was shot with a SONY Handicam and a Canon ZR10 with almost no sound equipment or money. Never got paid for it, either.

Part One!


Part Two!


Part Three!


Part Four!

Somebody Told Me

Friday evening I found myself with a strange hunger for pizza. My brother, one of his friends and I had dinner at a relatively new pizza place here in the city, Wedge, and I make a point of pointing out the restaurant's newness so that it doesn't seem strange when I say that none of us had previously been there. But we'd heard it was good.

Word of mouth is extremely important in this world. We trust what our friends tell us, mostly, because we trust them. So when someone says "yeah, that place is really great," we'll go and see for ourselves. We'll sit outside in the cold for 40 minutes waiting for a table and then wait another 40 minutes for the food to arrive. By the way, it was fantastic. Our friends didn't lie, and if you do go, try the hot Earl Gray tea. It's the best I've ever had.

And that's what makes Presidential politics so difficult for me. It is impossible to really know what we're getting into when we throw our support to a candidate. Even if you manage to dig through election coverage which is... okay, I'm going to digress here for a while.

*NEW TOPIC: WHY DOES THE NEWS MEDIA SUCK BALLS?*
Please note, this is not a new condition. The news media has always, and will always, completely suck balls when it comes to covering the Presidential campaigns. The problem as I see it is the process story. Process stories focus on campaign strategy, poll numbers, endorsements, and idiotic things human beings manage to say when they're under constant scrutiny from an entourage of press professionals. They tell us nothing of policy choices, of plans, or really even of the character of a candidate. Instead we're left with a glut of information in the vein of "well, if 42% of 35-44 year olds in South Carolina like her, she must be pretty good." That's great, glad they made up their minds. Now why the hell should I like her? Oh, because she's focusing now on a late-state strategy for Super Tuesday and she's got James Carville advising her on Southern States? That sounds like a great strategy. WHAT THE FUCK DOES IT TELL ME ABOUT WHAT KIND OF PRESIDENT SHE'S GOING TO BE? It doesn't tell me anything. And in a day that story probably won't even matter any more. But what's even worse is the transitive conferral of credibility that comes from these stories. If we spend all our time talking about three candidates, those are the important ones, right? So, if someone is polling in the single digits, we probably shouldn't spend any time discussing his or her ideas, right? Whew! Thank goodness. I was *this close* to thinking about new and different ways of solving our nation's problems. Thank God that's over! Now, I know that sounds simplistic, but there is some very solid research in the area, and the indication is pretty much "out of sight out of mind."
*END TOPIC*

Now we can't lay everything at the feet of the news media, as worthless and contemptible as they often are, because there's another heinous factor at work here to obscure the truth about candidates, their positions and their characters. I am speaking of course about the candidates themselves. Sure you can call yourself "Compassionate Conservative" or tell me you want to make America strong again, but what the hell does that mean? And is it even true?

It's not like I can't make a decision for myself (and on February 5 if Kucinich is still in the race I'll be voting for him) but it would be nice to have some information I could use from a source I can trust.

Can't You See The Camera Loves Me?

So, what did I do to start the new year? I took a couple of vacation days. You know, just for me. What did I do? Well, Thursday was "me" day. I went to the eye doctor, came home, then drank two liters of a "cherry-flavored" laxative. The rest of the day went pretty much how you'd expect.

Friday was a special treat. I got to have a colonoscopy! Oh, I forgot to mention that before. That's why I spent Thursday drinking laxatives, so that I'd be good and clean for the little camera that would soon be snaking its way through my body's "Texas."

Colonoscopies, if you've never had one, are a lot of fun. Seriously. They're an outpatient procedure, so you don't have to hassle with a hospital room, but you still get to get totally naked behind a curtain while strangers are doing office work ten feet away. When else in your life can you make that dream come true and not have to face charges later? Then comes the best part. A lovely young nurse comes in with more paperwork for you to sign, and you'd better go ahead and do it now, because in a few minutes there's gonna be a needle taped to the back of your hand. Awesome. Having an IV, in case you didn't know, is like having a bottomless drink. Of saltwater. That goes straight into you. Through a needle.

Then you get to sit there for a while, until another nurse comes and takes you into the procedure room, which looks more like a storage closet than any television show O.R. And for some reason soft rock from the 1970s is playing while still more nurses attach heart monitors and other wires to you, then somebody does something to your IV and you pass out. When you open your eyes someone's shouting at you and you have no idea where you are or even that any time has passed. But you hazily get dressed, make a joke to yourself about the walk of shame, then someone shows you some pictures of your guts and tells you everything is fine. Then someone drives you home. If you're really lucky they stop and pick up some Chinese take-out for you for lunch.

So, that's how I spent my vacation days. Here's some pictures:



Notice the smooth texture.


I don't know what the "20" denotes.


Freshly cleaned.


I don't mean to brag, but that is one nice-looking bowel.


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And now: ANIMATED!


Come see me and my magical ass in Tulsa on Sunday at the Nightingale Theatre! Me and a bunch of other comics, probably start at 8:00pm and probably cost $5.00.

It's Just An Illusion Caused By The World Spinning Round

Went to the Flaming Lips show last night. Great show. In addition to the fantastic music and visuals we've come to expect from the Flaming Lips, there were also free lazers, playing cards used as confetti, and almost 5000 giant balloons. Happy New Year people.

By the way, there will be a comedy show at the IAO next Saturday, January 12, which will kick ass. You should come see it.

Last, here's a taste of last night's frivolities.