Starting Now I'm Starting Over

This is post number 200 for Bible Belt Babylon, and I think it’s time to retire it. Not entirely, of course, but I’m going to take some time and put together an actual website with a way to list shows, display videos, and still include a blog. Look for www.thistotallysucks.com to launch sometime next month. In the meantime, check out the most recent Othello’s show and marvel at the last twenty headlines and the songs that inspired them. And buy my CD. It’s at Guestroom Records in Oklahoma City and Norman as well as Size Recs in Oklahoma City. It’s good. There’s lots of people that are funny on it. Special thanks to James for conceiving and executing the project. And thanks to everyone who stops by to read this stuff.

We’ll be back soon.

11/14/07 - “I've Got Problems; I'm Gonna Use Them.” from “In Case We Die (Parts 1-4)” by Architecture in Helsinki

11/18/07 - “Ah, That's A Bummer But We'll Recover, I Bet.” from “Groundbreaking” by Elk City

11/21/07 - “I Know Hapiness Writes White” from “Happiness Writes White” by Harvey Danger

11/22/07 - “If You Want Some More, Come And Get Some More” from “Sing Songs Along” by Tilly and the Wall

11/26/07 - “It's The Room, The Sun And The Sky.” from “Lazy Eye” by Silversun Pickups

11/28/07 - “They Don't Come Much More Sick Than You” from “Flathead” by The Fratellis

12/1/07 - “歩いてく” from “Never Ending Journey” by Cocco

12/5/07 - “Here We Go Again” from “Here We Go Again” by Hello Stranger

12/11/07 - “So The Trees Got Tired And Laid On The Ground” from “The Ice Storm” by Tilly and the Wall

12/21/07 - “Du-Du-Du Dun! Du-Du-Du DUN! Du-Du-Du-Du Dun!” from “The Wrath of Mikey” by The Go-Team.

1/1/08 - “It's Just An Illusion Caused By The World Spinning...” from “Do You Realize?” by The Flaming Lips

1/5/08 - “Can't You See The Camera Loves Me?” from “Stars of CCTV” by Hard-Fi.

1/13/08 - “Somebody Told Me” from “Somebody Told Me” by The Killers.

1/14/08 - “Stare At The TV Screen. I Don't Know What To Do.” from “Computer Love” by Glass Candy (Kraftwerk cover)

1/19/08 - “Them Other Fuckers Don’t Know How To Act.” from “SexyBack” by Justin Timberlake.

1/23/08 - “I Can't Tell What Kind Of Life I've Led Today” from “Ha Ha” by Mates of State.

1/30/08 - “My Talk Is Dirty But My Boots Are Clean” from “Trust is Shareware” by The Ark.

2/5/08 - “On Super Tuesday I Wanted To Die” from “Vote” by The Submarines

2/6/08 - “I'm Just A Love Machine” from “Love Machine” by Girls Aloud

2/20/08 - “Starting Now I’m Starting Over” from “Time Bomb” by The Format

HI MOM!

I'm Just A Love Machine

Short post today. I'm leaving soon for Arkansas, where I'll be hosting this week at the Loony Bin in Little Rock. It's my first out-of-state booking! Come check it out if you happen to be in the Little Rock area. And if you want to hang out, we could go see Billy's Bibliotheque.

Next week will see the release of the first CD to include my comedy. It's a 77-minute monster, packed full of performances and interviews with local comedians. If you love comedy or mental illness, you'll probably get something out of it. Special thanks to James for putting the CD together and for planning the CD Release Show at Opolis on Friday, February 15. Come check it out if you happen to be in central Oklahoma.

In the meantime, you can listen to some of my new stuff from last night. I'm Just A Love Machine

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.

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.

Du-Du-Du Dun! Du-Du-Du DUN! Du-Du-Du-Du Dun!

A couple of months back, I was in a show at the "Thrust Theater" shown above. It was a lot of fun. There were nine of us performing for about 400 to 425 of our closest friends and family members. You can watch it now. Special thanks to James for the recording and to Anthony for digitizing it, to Jason and Joel for putting the show together, to all the people who paid real cash money to come see us.

Download the thing here

OR...

Watch it in two parts on youtube.


Part 01

and


Part 02

Oh, and Merry Christmas.

Here We Go Again

Some days I think, "surely racism, Hitler and crack aren't funny," and then I think "no, that's just crazy. Of course Hitler is funny, and so is mental illness." Hitler and Crack!

They Don't Come Much More Sick Than You

I noticed lately I've been writing jokes about monstrous people and events. I don't know why that is. Well, regardless, here's some new stuff. Please enjoy some jokes about MONSTERS.

If You Want Some More, Come And Get Some More.

Happy Thanksgiving. I've posted my set from the Loony Bin last night. It's very similar to the set I did at Othello's on Tuesday, with just a couple of new jokes. Someone was at the club last night scouting for a (I'm guessing Christmas) show next month, looking for "clean" material. I said to myself before the show "well, he's not gonna like this shit, but whatever." I guess "clean" means something different than I thought, because he liked it. Who'd have guessed? Anyhow, thanks for reading, thanks for listening, and thanks for all your encouragement. I feel truly blessed to be able to do something I enjoy so much and have other people dig it, too.

Have a second helping.

I Know Hapiness Writes White

Just so you know, I don't actually think that cops beat people up to feel good about themselves.

I've been writing a lot lately. That's what happens when I get unhappy. So, thanks to the disappearing sun, I've written about 10 new minutes in the last two weeks. It's not great yet, but it will get there. I don't have a whole lot else to say yet. You can listen to my set from Othello's this week. Listen!

Ah, That's A Bummer But We'll Recover, I Bet.

So, the Sooners lost last night. That means, sadly, that the amount of punching in Oklahoma went up last night, and will probably continue at an elevated level for the next few days as Sooner "fans" continue to "deal with their emotions in a healthy way." That's the worst thing about fandom, I think. I don't just mean punching, either. There was a dude recently who, with his bare hands, tore the scrotum of a total stranger simply because the man was wearing a Longhorns shirt in Sooner country. That's not right. That's unhealthy. Funny thing: the guy doing the ripping was also a church deacon. WWJC? It's strange to me, to have your sense of self and self-worth so tied up to an external entity that you have literally no control over. That sounds like a recipe for psychic disaster.

That's why I prefer to base my sense of self-worth on the validation I get from a roomful of strangers who may or may not even be listening as I try to make them laugh.

I apologize for the audio quality. There was some crowd noise, and I didn't put the recorder near the speaker, so, whatever, blah blah blah. I guess we raised some money to keep the Tornado Alley Roller Girl league in the black, and isn't that what it's all about? I think it should have been a sanctioned Centennial Activity, but that's just me. Behold the magic of BUST A GUT!

I've Got Problems; I'm Gonna Use Them.

I saw Architecture in Helsinki last night. They were great. Glass Candy was there. They were great, too. Panther was there. They were there.

Awesome show.

I just got home from Othello's, where I did an entire set of new jokes. It's part of my new policy of confronting fears. In that vein, I also have a new haircut. I know that's possibly the dumbest, little-girliest thing I could say, but it was a big damn change for me and took me pretty far outside my comfort zone. So, there you go.

Incidentally, I'm very happy with the new haircut. If you're in the Norman/OKC area, get your hair cut at Behind The Scene Salon
24 West Gray Suite 103, between Santa Fe and Webster
405.801.2945

And listen to my set!

That's all.

Goodbye, Nate.

'Cause It's An Experiment. Experiment With Me.

I love this picture. It's of the WPA, one of my all-time favorite logic-defying experiments. The United States is in the midst of a crippling depression, the country is scared and weak and broke. Conventional wisdom says, "tighten the damn belt, wait out the lean times." Franklin Roosevelt said, "bullshit. Let's spend like we've never spent before. Let's pay people to build crazy shit like Hoover Dams, highways, zoos, whatever. And you know what, let's pay artists, too. Let's get someone to write a stage play about a down-and-out salesman, and let's get someone else to paint pictures of flowers that look suspiciously like vaginas. That's gonna turn this thing around!" Foul mouth aside, he was quite the visionary. And so in this picture we've got people building. We've got someone painting a picture of the people working. And we've got someone else taking a photograph of the whole scene. And I'm willing to bet that there is a writer less than a stone's throw away getting drunk while everyone else is hard at work. It was brilliant. And it sickens me to hear people try to denigrate the accomplishments the Greatest Generation made before they ever picked up the weapons of war.

The WPA kicked ass. Deal with it.

But, all of that nonsense is a way for me to say experimenting is vital! So, I've been experimenting with the jokes, lately. Here's the latest results of my mad science: Works in Progress, A'ight?

Enjoy!

Oh, and since this post brings me to a total number of posts divisible by 20, I'll list the last 20 songs I used for post titles. Check these people out on the ol' iTunes, or eMusic, or even an actual record store.

Oh, and check out the comedy show at Opolis in Norman this weekend! I'm not in it, but some hugely funny people are. So get ye to the comedy!

And I Swear There's Something Evil In The TV 5/17/07
“95 St. Marks Place” by The Sharp Things

You've Made It Pretty Clear What You Like 5/23/07
“Papa Was A Rodeo” by Kelly Hogan (Magnetic Fields cover)

Didn't Mean A Word Of It 5/25/07
“Moment of Weakness” by Bif Naked

I've Gotta Talk To You, But I'm So Sick Of Words, Words, Words 5/31/07
“Lost” by David Garza

It's The Same Old Thing As Yesterday 6/28/07
“King of Pain” by The Police

In The Company Of Strangers With Some Vulgar Shit To Say 7/2/07
“You Miss the Point Completely I Get The Point Exactly” by Harvey Danger

Hey Baby, It's The Fourth Of July 7/4/07
“4th of July” by X

And It Gives Me Something To Laugh About, 'Cause My Real Life Ain’t Fuckin’ Funny 7/25/07
“Can’t Get Out of What I’m Into” by Liz Phair

I Wanna Know What Love Is 7/26/07
“I Wanna Know What Love Is” by Foreigner

I Should Be Grateful, I Suppose, And Compare You To A Summer’s Rose 8/7/07
“This Piece of Poetry is Meant to Do Harm” by The Ark

It's Everything That Is Connected And Beautiful 8/16/07
“Kissing Families” by Silversun Pickups

You Can Surely Try To Be More Alive 8/28/07
“Fraud In The 80’s” by Mates of State

It’s Water, Don’t Try To Fight It 9/10/07
“Dear Sarah Shu” by John Vanderslice

Once Again, It's All About Me. And Pride Is Not A Factor, No. 9/11/07
“Moral Centralia” by Harvey Danger

White And Black, The Friendly Bears Of China. White And Black, They Rarely Reproduce. 9/14/07
“Pandas” by Corky And The Juice Pigs

No Telling How This Came To Be. You Ended Up Here When You Didn't Agree. 9/29/07
“Say Goodbye” by Papas Fritas

Sou Yo Kokoro No Nai Kotoba Nanka Yori 9/30/07
“Night Of Tokyo City” by Morning Musume

Anything Is Better Than Nothing. 10/30/07
“New Monkey” by Elliott Smith

Turn Down All The Lights. I'm Just Along For The Ride. 11/6/07
“Along for the Ride” by Mates of State

'Cause It's An Experiment. Experiment With Me. 11/07/07
“An Experiment” by Mates of State

Once Again, It's All About Me. And Pride Is Not A Factor, No.

or "But I Get Along All Right. As Long I Don’t Have To Interact
With Anyone Else On A Meaningful Level, I’ll Be Fine."

So, I somehow got nominated for an award. Whoever did that to me, "thanks." It's great to be recognized, but now I have inadvertently been put in the position of incipient loser. Or perhaps not. If enough people vote for me, I might just win. But don't bust your ass doing it, kids, because there's no money at stake, just my foolish pride and ego.

Speaking of foolish Pride and Ego, I've got some shows coming up.

Tonight I'm at Othello's! New stuff tonight.
434 Buchanan in Norman! FREE! 9:30pm!

Thursday night I'm at Pepe Delgado's! Slightly less new stuff, but likely much funnier.
752 Asp in Norman! Three Bands, Four Comics, Five Dollars! 10:00pm!

October 3-7 I'm at the Tulsa Loony Bin! Older stuff, but they haven't seen it.
6808 S. Memorial in Tulsa! Free - $8.00! Various times!

October 12 I'll be at OKC COMEDY NIGHT 2007 at Stage Center! It will be a good show, or Jason Black will slit my throat.
400 W. Sheridan in Oklahoma City!
Buy tickets at the Civic Center Box Office: $10.00 plus $1.50 service charge = $11.50
Buy tickets over the phone at 405.297.2264: $10.00 plus $2.50 service charge = $12.50
Buy tickets online at www.myticketoffice.com: $10.00 plus $5.50 service charge = $15.50

In the meantime, you can listen to me fail at the Loony Bin last week.

Oh, and I'll be going to Tokyo next week for pretty much no good reason at all.

Don't forget to vote, kids.

You Can Surely Try To Be More Alive

Life is very resilient, and very defiant. Grass pops up in the dirt stuck in pavement cracks, plankton live in super-heated thermal sea vents, and people, I'm told, still live in many parts of Canada. Life is resilient. It's wild, and free, and almost unstoppable.

When I moved into my apartment, the woman who lived in it before me left one thing behind: a tomato plant in a red plastic pot. It doesn't get much direct sunlight, or water for that matter, but it produced some really outstanding little tomatoes last year. They were blooming all the way through December. I have no idea if that's normal or not.

I did my best to protect the plant after I moved in, but it died, as tomato plants do, once winter arrived in full force. But it left behind a slew of tomatoes, and sometime in late December I put a few into an empty San Pellegrino bottle and set the bottle on the shelf in my kitchen. And I waited. They sat there for nearly five months, never growing mold or shriveling up. I don't know much about little tomatoes, but that surprised me.

On April 29, 2007, I took the tomatoes, squashed them and shoved the pulp into the soil of the plastic pot from whence they first came. Shortly thereafter plants sprung up. Sometimes I remembered to water them. Usually I didn't. But they grew, they put out flowers... and nothing happened.

No tomatoes. For nearly four months.

One finally showed up today! It's green and tiny, but it is there. Not because of my efforts, I feel, but rather in spite of them. I've neglected the crap out of this plant, forgetting to water it for days at a time, but still it thrives. It's a very gentle reminder that life on the earth will go on just fine without us, thank you very much. Kind of depressing, I guess, but in a way it's a relief. They say that the show is bigger than any actor, and if the world's truly a stage, that means the show must, and will, go on without us.

But, in the meantime, we will have tomatoes.

------------------------------------------------

In the interests of crass self-promotion, I should inform you that I have some upcoming shows:

September 7: Oklahoma Comedy Night at The Opolis in Norman! It's a fundraiser for the Oklahoma Food Bank. Tickets are $5 at the door, doors open at 8, show starts at 9. It's at 113 N Crawford.

September 13: Music and Comedy at Pepe Delgado's in Norman! Four comics, three bands, $5. Starts at 9. It's at Pepe Delgado's on Asp in Campus Corner.

October 3 - 7: MC at the Tulsa Loony Bin! It's just like the Oklahoma City Loony Bin, only it's in Tulsa. 6808 S. Memorial in Tulsa! Open Mic show Wednesday at 8; Ladies' Night Thursday at 8; two shows at 8 and 10:30 Friday and Saturday; Service Industry night Sunday at 9.

October 12: OKC COMEDY NIGHT 2007 at STAGE CENTER in Oklahoma City! Eight comics, one night, $10 plus a reasonable service charge. You can buy tickets online here or on your telephone at 405.297.2264. For more info, check out the myspace page.

Come see me!

It's Everything That Is Connected And Beautiful

I find most art books to be utterly uninteresting and unengaging. I think it's the skill with which the art is photographed and reproduced on the page that puts me off. It's glossy, slick and perfect and it almost always bears no resemblance to what the artist created. There really is no substitute for being in the same physical space as a work of art, for sharing the same air and light as this thing. It becomes more real for me and I feel a real sense of communion that I never find from a reproduced image on a page.

Art in a book is separated from reality and the limits of the physical world. It becomes eternal and perfect, and I hate it. I hate it for the same reason that I am utterly bored by Superman. Because it is so removed, so unassailable and so fundamentally alien. It bores me.

But when I can see a piece of art, see the light reflected off of it with my own eyes, that is something very different. I never feel jaded when I stand face to face with a work of art, even the really shitty ones. Ultimately, I find beauty in the flaws. When I can see the grain of a canvas, or the irregular swirl in a brushstroke, or an errant drop of paint that landed on the picture in defiance of the artist's wishes, I see myself, and my flaws, and I find it very reassuring. We live in a flawed, beautiful world and seeing these works or art, and all of their cracks and blemishes, reminds me of just how beautiful this imperfect world can be.

There's also an impermanence to these objects. And they are, after all, simply objects. Paint, cloth, wood, bronze, clay, etc. These things begin as unremarkable pieces of stuff, and through human industry and invention become transcendent. That's fucking beautiful. But they remain things, existing in our physical world, and all things are impermanent. Things break down, they disappear. Each moment they are on display, each moment they exist, brings them one moment closer to their inevitable end. I work in an archive and the one thing I've picked up is that everything we try to preserve will one day perish from this earth, no matter what we do. Lock it up in a sealed, UV-protected vault at the Louvre all you want, but someday we will have to live in a world without the Mona Lisa. That's fucking beautiful. That's life. It's sad, and terrible and tragic and beautiful. It's perhaps the best metaphor for the human condition that I have ever found, and I'm constantly looking.

I just wanted you all to remember that I do have a soul as you listen to the hate-filled piece of shit I recorded at Othello's this week. And to all my friends who stuck around for the whole show, I apologize for throwing such a weird and embarrassing hissy. And thanks for coming out anyway, I hope you had a good time.

Winston Smith's Five Minute Hate

And go to the Oklahoma City Art Museum, dammit.

I Should Be Grateful, I Suppose, And Compare You To A Summer's Rose.

One of the most appealing aspects of religion is the way that shitty events get explained away as "God's will," or "the Universe trying to teach us a lesson," or whatever.

It's kinda true, though. Well, I'm not going to go on record either way on the whole is-He-or-isn't-He (or She or It or Them) question, but I have found that shitty events can be made to serve us. Buddhist thought, for instance, finds reasons to be grateful for failure, persecution and violent tragedy, and not just because those experiences help to burn away bad Karma (or sin, if you will). They help individuals to reflect on themselves, their past and the Universe in general. Pretty neat, huh? Most of your non-Odin-based religions have similar tenets, and I'm honestly torn from day to day as to whether or not the lemonade is real or just a means to keep chumps under control.

I got a chance to test it out last week, though. It was Wednesday, and I was on my way to the Loony Bin for the evening show. It's my first time hosting a normal Loony Bin show, and I want it to be great. Part of my ritual, when I can do so, is to feast upon a falafel and hummus from Gyro's Etc. in the shopping center across Rockwell from the Loony Bin. Best falafel ever.

Seriously.

Only sometimes they have trouble with my debit card, and I'm left with no way to pay for said delicious falafel, as I usually don't carry cash (note to muggers: I'm not worth it!). So, I decide to stop at a nearby ATM to get some cash. Now, I'm not going to name the financial institution, so let's just say that their name rhymes with "CHASE RANK." I pull up to their outdoor ATM, put my card into the green blinking card slot, and wait. For those of you curious about what blinking green lights mean, let just tell you, they don't mean "happy to serve you, sir!" The actual meaning is closer to "I'm hungry! Give me your fucking debit card now, asshole! Mmm... yummy debit card! It's mine now, fucker! HA HA HA HA HA!" Some of that is a little idiomatic, but you get the drift.

I am now sans card. I have already established I have no cash. So, I'm left with my checkbook. I might as well be paying people in fucking Confederate Dollars, because the thing has an address from two homes and one city ago. So, great. Thanks CHASE RANK! You guys "rock!"

By the way, if a machine grabs your card and won't give it back, that shit is GONE! No way you will get it back, it gets shredded immediately.

So, I drive to Wal-Mart, where I bank ('cause I'm a high-fuckin' roller!) to cash a check so I can, you know, pay for food and gasoline. I order a new card while I'm there, expecting that I'll have it by the end of the week. No, 5 to 7 days I am told. No, wait, 5 to 7 BUSINESS days. Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me?! How hard is it to stamp out a damn card and put it in the mail? Are these things hand-crafted by a one-eyed master back in the Ozarks somewhere? Like, it's just him, a whittlin' knife and a big 'ol block o' plastic, perhaps? Because why else in the world would it take one of the biggest banks in the area a fucking week and a half to replace one lousy DEBIT CARD?!

But I digress.

I get the cash, I get the information, and more importantly, I get a nice dose of hate. It pushes out the nervous, the anxious, the oh-boy-I-gotta-do-good-tonight vibe in my head and replaces it with icy hot anger. I turned in a great performance that night, and like a good little method actor I had that nugget of hate at my disposal for the rest of the week, just smoldering in my back pocket where my debit card used to be.

So thanks, CHASE RANK ATM, you malfunctioning piece of shit. I hope you get struck by lightning.

And It Gives Me Something To Laugh About, 'Cause My Real Life Ain't Fucking Funny.

Nathan told me recently that comedy at the club level is all about selling beer.

There's something disturbing, yet comforting about that idea.

When I think about the performances of great comedians like Lenny Bruce or Richard Pryor, I focus so much on how groundbreaking they were and how amazing their material was that I forget the rooms were full of people who just wanted to have a good time. They didn't necessarily care about changing the rules of our culture or shining lights on the dark, hypocritical corners of society. They wanted to laugh, be with their friends and have a drink. If they weren't there buying tickets and booze and shitty, stale bar food there wouldn't be a club in the first place. And Lenny and Richard would just be some really funny homeless guys.

So thank you, beer-swilling crowds. You make it possible for me to do something I love. No matter how much you may suck, nor how much you may hate everything I say or do, I will always love you, just for showing up and spending your money.

Next week will be my one year anniversary of doing comedy, and I'll be hosting at the Loony Bin all week, doing my level best to sell some beer.

Come see me.

In the meantime, check out my set from Tulsa last week.



Or download

Hey Baby, It's The Fourth Of July

To celebrate Independence Day, I have created two new T-Shirts, and uploaded my set from Othello's last week. Enjoy your freedom.

NPCS
Confessions in Cotton
Darkness

In The Company Of Strangers With Some Vulgar Shit To Say

So, while I was in Dallas, I made an appearance at the Back Door Comedy Club. Funny thing about the Back Door is, you have to be clean. Not just clean, but really clean. No expletives, no bodily fluids, no sex acts, no nothing. So, you can guess it was easy for me to pick out three minutes of material. The sound quality on this is pretty awful, and you've probably heard it all before. So, don't listen to it. But if you really must, you can listen here.

Didn't Mean A Word Of It

What a great crowd this week at the Loony Bin. Usually "I hate women" is the setup for a joke, not a laugh line. Wow. I should point out, again, that I don't actually hate women. Just so we're clear. In fact, most of what I say on stage is a lie. But don't tell anyone.

You can hear my set, short as it is, right here: Listen

You've Made It Pretty Clear What You Like

I have very little to say today. I will point out that I passed the one year mark at my job last week. Didn't see that one coming. And one of my bosses wants to come see me perform sometime. I just hope she respects me in the morning.

Check out last night's funny trainwreck!

And I Swear There's Something Evil In The TV

Anyone who has talked to me in the past six months probably knows just how much I like the show Heroes. It's awesome. Watch it. Watch it and then talk to me about it. Seriously.

I love that show for many reasons, not the least of which is Sylar. He has got to be one of the creepiest, most engrossing villains I've ever seen in literature. That's right, I just called a network television series "literature." Deal with it. It's got me thinking about villains, monsters, and antagonists in general. They're a key part to any story. Without villains and their evil machinations, a story is just a series of occurrences. Boring.

When I was in fourth grade we put on a play based on the story of Pecos Bill. There was something wrong with the script, and even I could tell. It took a while to figure out what it was, but eventually I realized that there was no villain. There was no Shere Khan, no Captain Hook, no big ass shark. We had a tornado for a villain. Boring.

I've tried to inject a little antagonism into my comedy. I really can't believe that it took me this long to see the importance of challenging an audience. I'm not there make friends, after all.

Anyway, blah blah blah. I've got a show on Tuesday and Wednesday next week. Blah blah blah. Oh, also, I've got a video in the Tenth Annual Open Film And Video Screening at the IAO this Friday. Seven o'clock, five dollars, eighth and Broadway in downtown Oklahoma City. Good times.

Until then, feast your eyes on one of my greatest award-not-winning performances ever. Watch it. [Late Edit: Yes, Laura, there was no audio. Thanks for letting me know. I've reposted the performance, with audio, and with a clip of me giving a short, shitty interview at the end. "Enjoy."]

I Know You Love Me, But You're So Fucking Crazy.

I got a kitten last week. She's great. The people at PetSmart named her Winnie, but I call her Po. It's short for POTUS. We're bonding quite well, getting to know each other and all that. Here's a quick rundown of things she doesn't like: my belt; feathers; North Face shoes; my telephone earpiece; carpet; my leg. She's very sweet, though, and I don't think she's quit purring since she's been here.

Also, I had a pretty good set at Othello's this week. Listen, dammit.

Finally, here's the songs I've used for titles of late.

02.21.07
Waiting On A Sunday Afternoon For What I Read Between The Lines
“Interstate Love Song” by Stone Temple Pilots

02.28.07
You've Seen This Bullshit Once Before
“It’s All In The Way That You Trip” by The Prix

03.01.07
I See The Sky Above Me Like A Full Recovery
“What Makes You Happy” by Liz Phair

03.06.07
Tonight I'm Gonna Have Myself A Real Good Time
“Don’t Stop Me Now” by Queen

03.07.07
Because I Wanna See People And I Wanna See Life
“There Is A Light That Never Goes Out” (Smiths cover) by Nada Surf

03.08.07
The Present Is A Gift
“Live 4 Today” by Zion I

03.11.07
And You Wonder Why No One's Ever, Ever Talking To You. No One Ever, Ever Needed To.
“D. Boone Free (A Ninth Grade Crime)” by Centro-Matic

03.14.07
You Watched Me Hunt For Tips I Was Obliged To Pick Up From The Passing Trade
“The Fall Of The World’s Own Optimist” by Aimee Mann

03.18.07
Oh, Such A Prima Donna, Sorry For Myself
“Gotta Have You” by The Weepies

03/21/07
There Are Worse Ways For A Guy To Spend His Time
“Rest of My Life” by Rilo Kiley

04.05.07
Shut The Fuck Up
“Nugget” by Cake

04.06.07
Oh, What A Mess. I Wonder Who's Watching Me Now.
“Somebody’s Watching Me” by Rockwell

04.08.07
Spring Came, Rain Fell
“Spring Came, Rain Fell” by Club 8

04.12.07
You Think You're Dialed In? Someone Has To Win. And You Know What That Means? That Means Someone’s Got To Lose. It’s Probably You.
“Cream and Bastards Rise” by Harvey Danger

04.14.07
I'll Keep Digging For Fire
“Digging For Fire” by The Pixies

04.17.07
We Come In, We Go Out The Same Way: Alone.
“What’s Wrong With Alice?” by September 67

04.18.07
Love Is Watching Someone Die
“What Sarah Said” by Death Cab For Cutie

05.02.07
(Bam-A-Lam) Damn Thing Gone Wild (Bam-A-Lam)
“Black Betty” by Ram Jam Band

05.03.07
He Who Fucks Nuns Will Later Join The Church
“Death or Glory” by The Clash

05.09.07
I Know You Love Me, But You're So Fucking Crazy.
“Love Punch” by The Chalets

He Who Fucks Nuns Will Later Join The Church

I feel like I avenged myself tonight. I had a setlist. I had themes. I had callbacks (planned). I had a dead pope joke. By the way, I was feeling reverential this afternoon, and tried to create something that expressed that reverence and respect for God. This is how it turned out. Listen.

By the way, it was Pope Formosus.

(Bam-A-Lam) Damn Thing Gone Wild (Bam-A-Lam)

For the last few weeks, Othello's has been packed. Leah wondered recently if we had created a monster. Perhaps we had. The whole thing had grown and changed in ways we never planned. That's chaos, baby. In fact, last week it was so clogged with people that I didn't even have a seat. It was so loud that I actually shouted "SHUT UP!" at the audience. They didn't shut up, by the way. Then afterwards, Ana told me she was planning to plaster campus and Campus Corner with flyers to try and get more people into the bar. I'm not sure that more people is the answer, but it's not my bar.

I was not really excited about the prospect of more people crowding into the bar tonight, making noise and not paying attention. And as such, I didn't really prepare myself at all. So, I felt like a total douche when a small, attentive crowd showed up for the show. I felt bad about the quality of my performance. Oh, well. I recorded it, though. You can take a listen if you like.

Listen Here

Love Is Watching Someone Die

I felt a lot of love tonight. My friends came out and listened to jokes I had told less than 24 hours before. And they still laughed. The audience wasn't quite as into it, and I don't blame them. I need to write stuff that's more accessible. Really, I don't know what I was thinking. I came up with a minute on a Catholic strip club and I actually thought "this is it! This is universal! This will win them over!"

I just don't understand people.

Listen and/or download it - April 18 2007

I'll Keep Digging For Fire

When I was 17 years old, I took a course on human biology that basically amounted to a university pre-med class. We'll leave aside the reasons for that and just acknowledge that I did not belong there and did not finish out the entire year. The first test centered on early humans and their trek from Africa to other parts of the world. A key question on the test asked "What allowed early humans to leave Africa?" The answer, of course, is "Fire." My response? "Feet." Like I said, I didn't really belong there.

But fire is a pretty damned important thing to us. As far as I know, humans and humans alone set out to create and control fire. Without it we would find ourselves even more at the mercy of predatory species and the elements than we already are. From an evolutionary standpoint, having fire is like having a cheat code. Once you get that key, all sorts of doors open up. Advancements like cooking, and seeing things after sundown are easily within our reach. Societies begin to form around these pockets of warmth and safety. And other, more deadly creatures suddenly shit their animal pants when they see that we command the awesome power of fire.

I've been questing for fire lately.

Sure, there's the physical quest for warmth in my chilly apartment. Since the complex switched from heating to cooling last week I've been a bit cold, and very glad that my living room has a fireplace. But it's a metaphysical quest, too. And hopefully that's the only time in my life I will admit to being on a metaphysical quest.

Just like the hairy manimals that walked out of Africa all those years ago, we have to follow our own paths. And the fire we carry with us pulls us along, keeps us alive, and keeps the monsters at bay. I lost my fire this week, and not because of any comedy contests or lackluster showing at an open mic. Fortunately I found it again. The how and the why of the story lacks gravitas, but let it suffice to say that I dropped my fire because I forgot how important it is. I'm just glad it didn't go out before I realized what a mistake I had made.

So, I hope as you move on to where ever you go that you keep your fire. Keep it burning and it will keep you moving.