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Man, I Feel Like A Woman: Watching My First…

No, this blog is not about any pending transitions in my gender identity or the coming out culmination of my last few weeks’ podcast episodes where I have awkwardly commented on the startling good looks of Henry Cavill – oops doing it again. No today I am writing about watching an MMA pay-per-view event for the first time (#UFC190 for those of you archiving this).  I was supposed to go to a bar that plays 80s music Saturday night, in keeping with a tradition with my best friend. Each birthday, or around, we go to a bar, often labeled the douchiest in NYC, to get drunk and listen to 80s music to the wee hours of the morning surrounded by horrible twenty somethings from Murray Hill and New Jersey that we judge like 36 year old Statler and Waldorfs.  But on August 1st my friend broke with a time honored tradition and asked if I wanted to go to the apartment of a friend of his to watch the aforementioned MMA event. I said yes, even though I really wanted to sit and get drunk to Toto or Kim Carnes.

When the event began I finally understood every complaint and dumb question that a woman had ever asked me during a sporting event. An ex girlfriend of mine used to always say during football games that she alternatively “didn’t get” or “hated” when teams handed the ball off for an up the middle run, which more often than not leads to a 2 yard gain. Then begins the explanation of how it is making the defense respect the run and keep everyone on their toes to open up other big plays chances (not to mention the occasional big run up the middle).  Well, in the case of MMA I felt like a dumb chick and that tiny boulder of bro masculinity/marijuana spiritual conversion Joe Rogan playing the alpha male boyfriend explaining all the things that looked like nonsense to actually be technical savvy.  Here is the breakdown of the event from my perspective:

1st Match I Recall: Women Be Punching!

It was between two women. One woman beat the ever loving shit out of the other woman.  And I felt like a racist who claims that he likes women’s hoops more than men’s hoops because there are more fundamentals (code for – I don’t like seeing black men kicking ass), except as the matches continued that night I realized that the women’s match featured a lot more punches than most of the men’s matches.  So thanks to their inferior strength and soft faces, women’s MMA ends up being more exciting.

2nd Match I Recall: A Guy Who Looks Like Shane Battier with a Pituitary Issue Fighting Another Large Guy

This was a match up of Large Dad Bods.  And featured a decent amount of dry humping and spooning, which my MMA announcer boyfriend Joe Rogan repeatedly insisted throughout matches that this was actually really great technique.  I then realized that at 6’7″, 275 lbs I was bigger than both guys fighting and had basically the same 3 pack abs that they did.  So if comedy doesn’t work out (wait, the verdict is already in) then I may just take the emotional beating of the comedy industry and get my mug busted for meager profits.

 

3rd Match I Recall: Skyscraper vs. a Guy They Insisted was an MMA Legend

Skyscraper was 6’11” and beat the old legend guy who looked like a grizzled owner of a bodega.  All I kept thinking was, why doesn’t a guy with great coordination who is 6’11” play basketball. Then I realized, he was white and maybe he is a racist so rather then playing with men of color he gets paid to beat up men of color. It’s a theory.

4th and 5th Matches I Recall: Reality Show Competitions

I was disappointed that these were not the Finalists for America’s Got Marginal Talent fighting each other (how funny would it be to see a country singer and a ventriloquist have to fight MMA to win AGT). Instead they were finalists in two different weight classes from an MMA show.  These matches actually had some solid fighting (what do I know – I just didn’t need Joe Rogan to explain forceful spooning as “great technique” since there were a ton of punches.  And one guy kept trying a move called a “Guillotine” which I never quite figured out because he attempted it and could not hold it on 5 separate occasions.

6th Match I recall: Pretty Blonde Lady Wins as I Fall Asleep

There were seven total matches and it was way past my non-drinking, listening to 80s music bed time when Ronda Rousey came out to fight a Brazilian chick who had been talking a lot of trash about Rousey.  While watching this (and like most women watching a major sporting event I was busy watching a main event with an opposite sex star) I realized that MMA is really just porn for unattractive women (Bad Dads yield porn stars or MMA fighters, depending on looks).  That is what makes Rousey so compelling. She is talented and attractive (though her mug looked a tad South Parky in Furious 7 next to her anorexic Hollywood co-stars, but that is a small issue). Perhaps she tried porn first, but after the third male co-star complained of having their penis severed mid thrust she opted for the Octagon (quick side note – I love the movie Warrior, a very strong film about MMA fighting brothers starring Tom Hardy).  Well as I was almost ready to tap out from fatigue, Rousey punched the Brazilian woman and won in 34 seconds.

No woman is going to beat Ronda Rousey.  Like our women’s soccer team, she is aided by living in America.  Women are mostly relegated to second class status or sex objects in most of the world. so she basically has to compete with either homely trailer park messes from America or the 8 Brazilian women not hot enough to be in the sex houses of one-named soccer stars.  So congrats to Ronda Rousey. Between my ignorance of the sport, my man crush on Henry Cavill and feeling impotent watching your physical powers I now know what it is like to be a woman. #SorryNotSorry #LeanIn #YesAllWomen #CallMeCait #Hashtags

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on iTunes and/or STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe for free!

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Road Comedy Recap: Amtrak Animals and Arlington

This weekend represented the end to the longest slump in my comedy career. 7 months in between road work.  There are several possible reasons for this bad streak: bad luck with e-mail response, blacklisted for naming some notorious pieces of sh*t within comedy, making funny videos about people in comedy (the group of people who never stop claiming that “nothing should be off limits” in comedy), or less available work because of the need to work shittier comedians with managers who leverage their bigger clients to get their less talented ones force fed upon the general populace.  Whatever the reason is for my historic dip, this weekend was a break from that as I featured for Michael Ian Black for four shows at the Arlington Cinema & Drafthouse.  So as usual, though I am rusty having not written a road recap in 6 months, let’s start from the beginning.

On Friday morning I headed to Penn Station to catch Amtrak to DC.  I arrived with perfect timing as the train track was called just as I got in view of the big board with all the track assignments.  Now, anyone who knows Penn Station knows that when a track goes up, unlike every other train station in the northeast corridor where orderly lines emerge, a mob scene immediately develops with half of the people attempting to form something close to a line while the other half begin to attack the front of the line from 5 to 6 directions, as if they cannot see the line.  Every time I get a train at Penn Station I am reminded how horrible humanity is.  We don’t need an apocalyptic situation or a water or food shortage to see humanity at its most savage; we just need a track assignment in Penn Station on a Friday.  The best part was when I was in the middle of the line a man just sort of slide into the line right in front of me.  I just tapped him on the shoulder and said “there’s a line.”  He then sheepishly moved all the way back (having a good foot in height and 100 lbs in weight on someone makes enforcing moral order a little bit easier).  I felt good, but I realized that it didn’t really matter.  Just the fact that in a random sample of Amtrak riders, 50% of the population does not give a shit for order or respect for other people irritates me so much.  The only silver lining is that the people that cut the line, rushed the middle, etc. came from all backgrounds, proving that economic status, sexual orientation, gender and race make no difference in how awful human beings are. #AllLivesSuck

So with a good, angry sweat built up observing this I grabbed a seat next to an old lady reading a Kindle (while I read my hard copy book) and headed to DC.

I checked into the Arlington Hyatt, which thanks to good luck on Hotwire.com turned out to be a very nice hotel and across the street from a Metro station.  For those of you that do not know Hotwire, it is like gambling for middle and lower class travelers.  You put in your address and it gives you anonymous hotels within certain distance ranges from your given address. It tells you the stars of the hotel, the price you will pay (always cheaper than other travel sites because it ends up helping hotels you might not book on another site because of either the name or the distance). So you could end up with a hotel 3 blocks from your destination or 4 miles (my range was 0 to 5.5 miles that I picked from).  So I was very happy to get a hotel off of a Metro station, 3 stops from the Drafthouse when it could have been a disaster (and they are non-refundable – you only learn your hotel when you have already paid).  It is a very thrilling way to start a mundane trip. But possibly not riveting blog reading.

The shows were really fun at ACDH, as they were the first time I was there in 2014.  I began a bit rusty, but to be fair (since I never hesitate to shit on crowds that suck) they were easy/very pleasant audiences.  The most important thing I learned from the 1st night was that I needed to retire a Ronda Rousey joke I tell. Here is the offending part:

Even more than Hillary Clinton, I feel like Ronda Rousey is a more impressive feminist hero.  Because she is not just doing what a man does, but she is so impressive men might want to be her, without thinking of gender first. I mean she’s rich, she’s famous, she’s ripped and she gets applauded for beating the shit out of women. What guy wouldn’t want to be her?

Now the joke is a solid joke in terms of structure and punch line, but I finally realized (the joke has hit well 50% of the time for me and fallen flat 50% of the time in the 10-12 times I have told it) that I have to quit telling it. If I was 5’3″ and 105 lbs I could probably get away with it because (as I discussed with the emcee of the weekend) it would rise to the level of absurd and the joke would feel less like a viable threat.  However at 6’7″ 275 lbs the idea of hitting a woman is sort of impossible to make funny even if the joke technically works.  #LargeComediansPunchlinesMatter

The second night was outstanding.  I had dusted off some of the rust of the first night and both shows, especially the second one, were killer. Sadly, videotaping is not allowed at ACDH, even by comedians so the set will only live on in the hundreds of oral re-tellings of the feature act’s legendary performance by the hundreds in attendance.  New bits killed, old bits killed and by the end of the night I only had 5 of the 26 CDs I brought to sell (I lost 21 on the Metro – KIDDING – I sold 21 copies because I am very good at stand up comedy).

So it was a great trip and it felt good to be on the road again, even if just for a few days and even if I spent Saturday in my hotel reviewing e-mails for my daytime legal work.  I feel like the two best parts of road work are leaving and returning: the excitement of going to perform for new people and then the mental exhale of knowing you will get back home to your usual comforts: cookies and a TiVo. #Blessed

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on iTunes and/or STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe for free!

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What Could or Will Happen if the NBA Hires…

Becky Hammon who was an all star in the WNBA (for those who are not familiar with the WNBA, imagine a really solid male high school player), has recently coached the San Antonio Spurs Summer League team to a championship, which of course would be less meaningful than season two of True Detective if the coach were not a woman.  But it is still a cool, or at least interesting moment in sports.  After all, coaching men, rather than playing with men, does not require anything that a woman doesn’t possess.  And the Spurs are the right organization to test this out – a team without major egos, with an ingrained culture of discipline and selflessness is a much better place to test this out than say, a team with JR Smith or Dwight Howard (asking your coach if she “wants the pipe” or having your 9th child out of wedlock with your coach would be bad PR to say the least).  But while we are on a historic wave of eliminating any distinctions or differences that come with gender, there are some things we should definitely pause to reflect on before an NBA team hires a female head coach:

1) Tony Parker will try to have sex with Becky Hammon if she has a husband who can be cuckolded.  Parker is a great player and slept with his teammate’s wife to prove it.  Don’t think as his career nears its end and playing time dwindles that he won’t try and bang his way to more minutes.

2) Is the NBA prepared to have a Kardashian as a coach?  If the Kardashian women have to pool all their earnings just to buy a team so they can install one of them as a coach (why ruin the lives of black men one at a time when you can do it twelve at a time) they will.   Though I am pretty sure three Kardashians would find interesting ways to get high profile free agents to sign with the team.

3) Expect a lot of Dirk Diggler-esque “You’re not my mom; you’re not my fu*king mom!” arguments between players and coach.  Fame, strained parental relationships, large penises – NBA players have plenty in common with Dirk Diggler of Boogie Nights and at some point there will be some rebelling against a mother-like figure in the locker room or on the court.  Granted, this is preferable to a Latrell Spreewell coach choking incident, but it may be very uncomfortable nonetheless.

4) The Internet will break from think pieces.  Seeing how many blogs and think pieces have been written about Amy Schumer in the last month (even one complaining about her film’s “hetero-normative” vision of life success (monogamy and not being an emotionally crippled woman who uses sex to avoid deep relationships and cover over trauma is apparently offensive to the liberal heroes willing to go over a cliff to pretend that all life choices and conduct are equally healthy and none can ever be judged as better) I can only imagine how a female coach story would explode. Every quote, every tweet, every reaction, etc. would be subject to thousands of outraged words.  Sounds fun.

5) There will be a player’s wife who attacks the coach.  Just google “Doug Christie’s wife” and you should see that if a player’s wife will attack a player, then watching a woman talk down the love of her life and/or meal ticket on TV expect hell to break loose.

6) There will be a shitty inspirational Disney sports movie.

7) What if Becky Hammon begins identifying as a man? Does it still count as hiring a female coach or will it not count at all or will it count as double?

Someone has to ask these important questions.

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on iTunes and/or STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe for free!

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Ken Burns’ New Documentary on Comedy Is Astonishing

He has captured The Civil War, Baseball, Jazz and Prohibition with a unique and exhaustively entertaining skill set over the last 25 years.  But after looking at all those unique American experiences, Ken Burns has finally turned his lens to another great American art form with his new documentary series COMEDY.  Episode 1 was leaked on line today and it explores an unsung hero of American stand up comedy, Tommie Jones.  If it is any hint of what is to come from this series in August, then we are in store for another Ken Burns masterpiece. Enjoy episode 1 below:

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Colin Farrell May Be The MVP of the Summer

Now that NBA season is done and Lebron James’ heroics fell short we have entered the period of time where dumb movies and baseball dominate our entertainment lives.  In other words, it is a very sad time for many people, even if you ignore the oppressive heat that is coming (the opposite of Game of Thrones).  But in this time of hopelessness it appears a hero may have arisen from the ashes of Stannis Baratheon’s daughter on HBO.  It is not The Rock, though Ballers, for all it’s clear flaws did hold my attention. And it is not The Brink, which also seems to be on the line of potentially fun/potentially a disaster. No the hero comes from a place I never expected it: Colin Farrell.

Colin Farrell was the pretty boy of the moment around 2003(?) or 2006(?) – I really don’t know. he was Irish, and douchey-handsome and women seemed to like him even though his acting was inconsistent and his box office track record sort of shoddy.  And it seemed like no Hollywood dramatic A-listers wanted to follow the McConnaughey-Harrelson season. so the show put together a patchwork quilt of “eh.”  Vince “I really need a hit before my Libertarian politics bury my career for good” Vaughn as the bad guy, Rachel “I am out of my depths, but I am tired of being the nice girl” McAdams as the tough girl cop, Taylor “I’ve had more shots as a leading man than 10 qualified black actors and Steve Howe combined” Kitsch as the cop who has a past we don’t car about and the aforementioned mustachioed Farrell. Now I mention the mustache for the simple reason that the last time Farrell prominently displayed a mustache he was in my “Worst Movie of 2006” Miami Vice.  But in a weird bit of foreshadowing, I though Farrell was the best part of Miami Vice (contrast with Jamie Foxx, whose performance prompted me to demand that he return his Oscar for Ray).

Well, the comparison that came to mind while watching Farrell was Lebron James.  Lebron was in a great no-lose situation with the Cavs in the NBA Finals.  He had a poor (though still underrated cast, since most people talked about them like they were the silver medalists at the Special Olympics) set of teammates with his two best injured, he could showcase his talents fully and if they won he was the greatest and if they lost, he had still done what just about no human could have done.  I was skeptical of Farrell, but after last night’s episode I see that he both brought it AND was given a great set of circumstances.

First, unlike basketball, an ensemble helps your performance.  Farrell does not need to do 50 minutes of acting, he simply needs to steal the show in 15 minutes (I guess more like a game 3 Matthew Dellavedova), but he does just that. He delivers rage and creepiness that is so on point it is almost funny (in a good way).  I will not spoil his lines for you so you can enjoy them yourself. #hero

Second, the show seems to have taken a nosedive in structure and quality.  It is just gloomy and to be honest when there weren’t exposed breasts or Colin Farrell on camera I sort of drifted in and out of the plot.  So like Lebron, Farrell has a better landscape to perform in for personal glory.

Third, they give Farrell’s character (can’t remember his name, don’t really care) a fat, red-headed son.  This is like Kyrie Irving and Kevin Love being injured.  I don’t even know how Farrell could produce a fat ginger kid (I was reminded after posting this that the kid appeared to have been the product of a rape, presumably with a fat ginger rapist), but it makes his son the target of bullies, which allows Farrell to a) bully his fat ginger kid into telling him who took his kid’s Lebron sneakers (SEE THE PARALLEL IS RIGHT THERE – last year had the Yellow King, this year it is King James)and b) attack the father of the kid who bullied FGK and then yell expletives and sexual threats… to a 12 years old.

Fourth, Colin Farrell does deliver. Last night was not quite a 40 point, 16 assist, 13 rebound type game, but it was like a 27 point, 5 steal performance off the bench.  I wouldn’t be surprised if the creators of TD2 were calling everyone in today after the social media response (and the Righteous Prick bump) and just re-working the last 6 episodes to focus on the Dad beating, kid cursing, fat ginger kid having sonofabitch (sorry Ballers has me writing in the style of The Rock).

So in summary, though I feel like the gloomy nothingness of season two of True Detective will yield no awards and no praise, it is a time for Farrell to step up and reclaim his popularity (which I am not quite sure why he ever had it) and the show seems to be giving him the chance. And if he can make 9 more episode of this watchable, then he will be the real MVP.

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on iTunes and/or STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe for free!

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American Idol Cancelled! But Singing Refugees Can Seek Asylum…

After 15 years, American Idol has been cancelled by Fox.  The show has produced six legitmate stars (Kelly Clarkson, Jennifer Hudson, Chris Daughtry, Carrie Underwood, Adam Lambert and Phillip Phillips), hundreds of blooper reels and tens of thousands of delusional singers.   Well, with the mother of all singing competition shows obliterated (granted a haggard looking mother after several childbirths now ditched by the Dad of American TV ratings for the younger and hotter trophy wife known as The Voice) there will be a refugee crisis to rival that of the exodus from Syria over the last couple of years. I am, of course, writing about where the literally millions (AND MILLIONS – Rock voice) of singers in America will go now that one of their homes has been destroyed.  I tweeted a couple of years ago that if America could figure out how to turn aspiring singers hopes and/or delusions into energy we would be able to provide clean energy (well almost clean – there is bound to be some unprotected sex between singers and managers/producers) to the world for decades.  Well fortunately there is a place where failed singers… and just failed people in general can find a home – stand up comedy!

Like Jesus feeding 5,000 people in the story of the fishes and the loaves, stand up comedy seems to have an unlimited space for people who want to perform (and upon the first unpaid performance change their career listing on Facebook).   So come on singers!  Join the world of comedy.  You aren’t making money as a singer so comedy will simply be a lateral move.  Plus you will probably have some stage charisma and might be fu*kable looking which are two of the top four things you need to make a splash in comedy right now.  The other two are youth and being related to Bill D’Elia.

So if you are a waiter or waitress or unemployed person with a great singing voice in reality or just in your shower, google comedy open mics in your city and join the community of stand up comedy.  It honestly doesn’t matter if you have any experience or even a sense of humor.  Being funny is only one of literally dozens of avenues to success in comedy in 2015.

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on iTunes and/or STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe for free!

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Clouds, Carolla and Cauvin – The West Coast Travel…

This week I took a break from staring at emails and contracts on a computer for 10 hours a day for a much needed working vacation.  I have not been on a vacation since 2010, though travelling for comedy can sometimes feel like a half a vacation… until you get your paycheck and realize it is not half a vacation, but half a job and you need something else to pay your bills.  But I digress.  I was excited to come out west.  It had been cloudy and cool in NYC and I was pale from a winter and early spring spent inside of law firm offices, so heading out to Los Angeles, a place so Sunny and warm that the state has a historic drought, was sure to change both my mood and my skin tone, right? Wrong.

The day I left for LA (Monday) New York was experiencing 80 degree sunny weather.  LA? 60 and cloudy the whole day.  I failed to pack anything with long sleeves, which was a big mistake since my first show Monday night was at a bar on Venice Beach right next to the Pacific Ocean.  The only things making a bigger statement on stage than my comedy set were my protruding frozen nipples.  It was then that I realized that I may very well be The Nothing from the 80s movie The Neverending Story.  Gloom and clouds follow me everywhere while I leave a warm sunny paradise in my wake (the rest of the week is supposed to be cloudy in LA followed by 80s and Sun next week). (for more funny details of my trip to LA and a quick review of Ex Machina check out this week’s short episode of my podcast here)

Tuesday was cloudier than Tuesday but it was the big day of the trip – another appearance on The Adam Carolla Show where in addition to getting to work with the great staff there and the Podfather, they also have a free vending machine (it makes you feel like a civilized looter).  Normally I only take one item, but on Tuesday I went all out and took TWO packs of Lorna Doone cookies (as I have been listing many ways I am getting older in my stand up I think my growing love of Lorna Doone cookies can be added).  The episode went well and they played a bit of my new Carolla-themed sketch video. Enjoy it here:

I then celebrated after Carolla the way I have celebrated every Carolla appearance… with a coma inducing meal at The Cheesecake Factory (some happy hour drinks, sliders, salmon, mashed potatoes, broccoli and a large piece of Oreo Diabetes Never See Your Penis Again If You Eat This Too Often Cheesecake),  My friend Nick and I then drove around Hollywood for a while counting the number of Chris D’Elia billboards (5,988 at last count).

So now I sit here in my boxer briefs writing this, staring out my window at a third day of cloudy LA. I headline Flappers tonight in Burbank (check my Twitter for link to free tickets) and will be writing sketches and material inside… things I could have done in NYC… but with more Sun #Blessed

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on iTunes and/or STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe for free!

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11 Headlines You Will See with a Hillary Clinton…

Yesterday the biggest surprise announcement since “the sky is blue” occurred when Hillary Clinton announced she was running for President in 2016.  There are several obstacles in Clinton’s way, the biggest one that America hates a presumptive nominee this far in advance.  American voters like to feel that they matter, even if it means shunning the qualified candidate to make a statement (e.g. the 2000 election should not have even been that close, whether you think GW Bush actually won or not).  But the nomination and election are still a ways away so I think now is a good time to anticipate some of the headlines and click bait that are sure to arise if Clinton is elected president.  Other than ruining men’s perfect 44-0 record of presidents, click bait may be the biggest reason I choose to not vote for Clinton. After all, minimum wage increases, Pacific trade deals and Middle East violence are much less part of my life than Facebook and Twitter click bait articles. So here are some titles you are likely to see from liberal and conservative sources:

1) Middle East leader refuses to shake President Clinton’s hand because she is a woman. What she does next is AWESOME! – Upworthy.  I put this at 117% chance of occurring

2) #YesAllPantSuits will become a hashtag after some conservative bloggers and Elizabeth Hasselbeck criticize her wardrobe one too many times.

3) The Bitch is Back?! – Controversy after GOP fundraiser featuring several GOP nominees plays Elton John’s song upon hearing that Clinton has secured the nomination. After a major backlash, Metallica agrees to play a Clinton fundraiser blaring their song Aint My Bitch to the crowd’s delight.  GOP commentators on Fox then blast Metallica and Clinton claiming hypocrisy. Discussion quickly moves on to how black people shouldn’t use the N word either.

4) Breaking The Glass Floor – mean article about Hillary gaining weight while on the campaign trail

5) Dy-nasty – NY Daily News headline when Bill inevitable takes off the gloves (and perhaps his pants) to defend Hillary against comments, probably by either Ted Cruz or Chris Christie once she secures the nomination.

6) 17 Times Hillary Caught Bill Cheating… and did NOTHING – yes this old chestnut will be re-packaged with 2015 click bait sensibilities by one of those fringe conservative Facebook pages.

7) 19 Other Women Who Should Have Been Our First Female President – inevitably boredom, dissatisfaction or some other bitter emotion will overcome the Internet and Jezebel will post some list of women, presumably including Tina Fey, Amy Poehler and Chelsea Handler, who were overlooked for the job before Hillary’s rise to power.

8) You Won’t Believe These Younger Pics of Hillary – Babe Alert! – Some site will located a few decent pics of young Hillary Rodham and declare her a babe at which point a feminist site will post less than a week later…

9) What if We Judged Male Presidential nominees like Hillary???

10) Why Hillary Clinton is the Worst President Ever – After all she may not be black, but she won’t give the GOP even that 6 month grace period of “I’m popular and have a mandate, but let’s see if we can work together on 1990s Republican ideas about defense and health care” that President Obama foolishly tried.  So their anger may equal or exceed that for Barack.  And for good measure:

11) Why Michelle Obama would be a better President than Hillary – Oh come on – you know this one will show up sometime between today and 2018.

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on iTunes and/or STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe for free!

Stand Up Comedy

The New Wave of Harmless Diversity in Comedy

In law school (what a pretentious way to begin a blog post about comedy) we studied, among hundreds, the case Bakke v. Regents of California.  It was a 1970s case where the Supreme Court took on affirmative action for the first time.  It ruled that although racial quotas were unconstitutional in college admissions, using race as a “plus factor” was allowed, with the vision, correct in my estimation, that different races can provide different perspectives and value to a college experience that can benefit all students.  The sharing of different experiences and the exposure to people who many do not meet regularly in a largely segregated society (America as a whole, so please don’t tell me about how your neighborhood is different Astoria comedians!) is of value, as is addressing some inequities ingrained in our society.  Perhaps you do not believe in race based classifications of any kind and if that is the case thank you for reading my blog angry white person or Clarence Thomas.  But I think, on the whole, racial diversity is important for various reasons, exposure, familiarity and diversity of life experiences all making up its relevant components.

Last week I had a show in Brooklyn in front of a fairly mixed crowd, racially speaking.  Normally when I am doing material with either racially infused commentary or racial insensitivity I preface some of that material with autobiographical details. I discuss my mixed race heritage (Haitian father, Irish mother) which seems to set people more at ease to laugh and/or think about my material.  But on Thursday I opted to go right for one of my better bits of the last couple of years on black bouncers.  Here it is on YouTube from the DC Improv last October:

For the DC Improv crowd I had already prefaced it with my personal details, but last week I went right into the bit with no details (and because Winter has just ended and I cannot afford a tanning bed session, let alone a sunny vacation, I am at my lightest skin coloring possible).  And the response was the most mediocre it has ever been for the joke.  The crowd laughed/unclenched their progressive butt holes when I concluded the bit with “Maybe I should have prefaced that with telling you that my father is black. My mother just happens to be Irish which is the hateful bleach of racial mixing so I came out like this. But now maybe you can start laughing because a half black guy is talking about racism instead of the hateful guinea you think I am.”

(Now mind you laughs persisted even though I had dropped a blatant Italian slur, despite having no Italian heritage, unless you consider seeing The Godfather 40 times Italian).  Not to mention that the bit is really about the lingering and hidden racism of white people (or the perception of it – you decide), which you think might play better in a hip Brooklyn space.

In a career of frustrating false starts and setbacks this was a weird one. Granted it was one show, but in 12 years of performing I have noticed that my material and opinions, which usually stand on solid comedic and logical premises require some sort of checked box before I can share them with most crowds, especially crowds today.  I have a handful of sets I can recall where I have done material (mind you, I never drop N bombs or anything like that) without offering my racial identity ahead of time and they have all been less well received than when I do mention my racial bona fides.  Sometimes I refrain from explaining context if I think a joke should stand on its own, regardless of who is telling it, just to spite an audience, rather than pander to their preconceptions of what should be said and who should say it.  Sadly, these experiences have made me realize more than ever, pursuant to some discussions I have had on my podcast with comedian Josh Homer, that comedy audiences (and the industry for sure) now crave useless, or at least harmless diversity more than ever.  Let me explain.

In the Supreme Court example previously mentioned, diversity was not intended as its own end. Instead, diversity’s importance stemmed from the exchange of ideas, of perspectives, of experiences and opinions that would make diversity useful and desired.  And yes, there was, and still is, the idea of addressing certain socially ingrained problems and offering redress through diversity.  But now throughout society and inside comedy in particular it seems we want the presence of diversity, without any real substance to it. The visual of diversity has become paramount and feels more important than the meaning within it.  President Obama, who avoided race, much to the chagrin of some of his black and liberal supporters, immediately become a race baiter/hustler/divisive when he addressed the Trayvon Martin case in personal tones, years into his administration.  Eric Holder, who has been the racial issues pit bull for the Obama administration is reviled by the GOP.   We are so post racial that we get very angry when anyone actually gets racial.

In comedy it has been an interesting swing.  The new preview for Last Comic Standing seems to have accelerated the push for diversity from last year.  Last year featured a lot more color than previous years. There have been articles about a new wave of black male comedians steeped less in racial narratives and more in nerd and alt sensibilities. It seems to be a high water mark for diversity, especially black, in comedy, except it seems there are no new Chris Rocks (he dropped Bring The Pain at the age of 31). It seems the best path to rise from obscurity today in comedy seems to be a black guy who rarely discusses anything about being black unless it is innocuous or if it is used to mock black people (hi Key and Peele).  One need only open a newspaper or watch a news program to realize that racial issues are still at the forefront of American culture whether we wish them to be or not. And comics, who are so quick to cite their role as mirrors on society when defending their mocking the death of a celebrity in tweets, seem to be less likely to engage in some of these issues now.

Before I continue, I don’t want what I am saying and about to say to be confused for its simpler and uglier cousin “Hey, why can’t we just pick the funniest people and leave it at that.”  That is an easy cop out to defend the status quo in terms of opportunity and voice.  Just like the Rooney rule in the NFL, which requires teams to interview at least one coach of color before picking a coach, sometimes it is necessary to introduce new people and groups into the spotlight because the process has largely ignored them.  Keeping things fair and color blind will lead to no opportunities because one group has such a definitive, and in many ways unfair head start.

Now I must say that no one comedian can or should be required to deliver any kind of message or comedy. A comedian must be free to explore their own voice and that voice does not need to be, nor should it be required to be, some bullhorn for social issues.  But when the industry, in the aggregate, begins supporting a comedy whose mere pigment is supposed to represent a message, while muting or not presenting more defiant voices, that is an easy way out for audiences and industry alike.  Obviously W. Kamau Bell (admittedly never watched, but certainly observed the way it was marketed) and Larry Wilmore represented some of what I am thinking about, but Bell is off the air and Wilmore’s show has quickly diverted to a whole range of topics, perhaps because it doesn’t want to alienate people too much, or perhaps it is still too small a sample size to draw any conclusions.  But these are not the wave of new black comics people are raving about anyway.

Of course I do not know every single black comedian, but I do know the type the industry seems to be grabbing for with both hands.  We want to see diversity, but in comedy what we see is less important than what we hear and it seems that we hear a lot less than we see.  When one considers the tradition from Pryor to Rock to Chappelle it is striking to see that the fastest way to success now seems to be as a black comedian who avoids challenging people on race, especially in light of all that is occurring in our society today.  There have always been black comedians who did not make their act race based, but there were also comics who did because in America that is still something worth exploring and challenging.  I won’t make a field slave/house slave comparison (that would be as hyperbolic as the hundreds of people and things that get compared to Hitler on a weekly basis), but when the emerging landscape seems to be black comics who avoid these topics there is either a wholesale abandoning of a perspective by the industry, or a pandering by artists to be what the industry seeks. And neither is very positive in the aggregate.

This brings me back to my bit (what would my blog be without some self-aggrandizing).  A lot of my material over the last few years has been about my perspective as a (to a majority of people) white looking guy who has a black father to dissect some of the things I have seen.  But it seems like a lose-lose-lose situation. If I tell the crowd I am half black it gives me the perceived racial standing to criticize from within, but then it can be uncomfortable for people, usually white, who don’t want to be lectured on the persistence of racism from a guy whose face appears to have “white privilege,” even if he claims a different heritage.   If I don’t announce my racial background the reaction can be even more stand offish, often from both sides of the pigment aisle, even though my opinions tend to be left of center on all things racial.  The only perspective left is to pretend to be a hostile, conservative white comic who is “truth telling” to the masses with “I’m not afraid/I went there” posturing, except then I would not be true to myself or my actual feelings since the few comic voices that lean that way tend to be somewhere between conservative and racist.

I just think between my experiences in life and as a comedian and observing the trends taking hold in comedy (bearded non sequitur spewers have now given way to black/ethnic, “but there’s nothing different about us” comics in the passing of the “what industry is desperate for” torch) diversity doesn’t and shouldn’t mean abandonning or disregarding social commentary.  Perhaps the rise of politically correct watchdogs in comedy coupled with the rise of alternative comedy have created less demand for confrontational comedy (or less comfort with it).  But whether it’s softer audiences, more selective industry, both or neither it would be nice to have more challenging voices join the rising powers.  And if an Italian looking dude with a black dad can’t get away with it then someone with two black parents needs to before we all find out we are all similar and happy and no one is thinking or laughing.

And I am aware that diversity encompasses more than black and white issues, which is why I am predicting a gay winner of Last Comic Standing this Summer, without knowing anything regarding who has advanced, etc.  But in entertainment, as well as in America, black and white issues will dominate the narrative for some time the same way they did this blog.

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on iTunes and/or STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe for free!

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Weekend Recap: Crushed It in Philly and Brooklyn! (watching…

This weekend I was out on the road, which was a nice change of pace from sitting in sweatpants for 11 hours a day “on my way to the gym” while trying to finish Netflix (you read that correctly).  However, as my comedy booking e-mails continue to go into spam folders (perhaps using the subject heading “Enlarge your penis by booking me at your club” is a bad way to get through web filters this weekend’s road tripping was to support my favorite sports team, the Utah Jazz.  Perhaps other than “J-L is not booked to do comedy this weekend” no phrase makes less sense in the American pop culture landscape than “Utah Jazz.” As a quick primer they used to be the New Orleans Jazz, but then the team moved to Utah with all those swinging Mormon cats and decided that they should keep the name Jazz. especially if 30+ years later a team would come back to New Orleans and would prefer to be known as Pelicans anyway.  I became a Jazz fan because as a young hoopster I liked Karl Malone’s gigantic arms (no homo), their purple uniforms (no homo) and John Stockton’s short shorts (OK, possibly homo at this point).  And even at a young age the Jazz gave me a sense of identity as a sports fan away from my friends and family’s uniform admiration for the New York Knicks.  Stockton and Malone gave me the added benefit as a mixed race child of seeing a black person and a white person work together in harmony, as opposed to my parents who had more of a Robert Parish-Bill Laimbeer relationship.

So with that backdrop I have been a die hard Utah Jazz fan for 28 years I went to see them against the 76ers in Philadelphia Friday with two friends (Pat and Jim) first and then against the Nets in Brooklyn on Sunday.  Normally I also go to watch them play the Knicks, but when I looked up ticket prices for Knicks games, even the cheap seats had “anal rape” listed as the cost on Ticketmaster so I had to pass, which was disappointing since the Jazz won on a last second shot.  Last year I went because I received Lorne Michaels (yes that Lorne Michaels) seats 3rd or 4th hand (#ComedyMogul), but the Jazz came as close to winning that game as I did to becoming a cast member on SNL.  So on to this weekend’s festivities.

Philadelphia

The first part of Jazz Weekend was Philly.  That meant the PATH train from Manhattan to Hoboken, get picked up by Jim in his borrowed car and Daryl Dawkins’ game jersey, stop at Pat’s house where he was with his adorable two sons, reminding Jim and I that perhaps being struggling, unsuccessful comedians with no families of our own is actually a plan B for life, switch to Pat’s larger car for the Cranford to Philly leg of the trip and then watch a match up that NBA TV called “what the fu*k else is on tonight.”

The drive from Cranford to Philly was uneventful, because Pat (the Dad) did something I have never seen before – he kept perfect 62 mph pace with the GPS. We had a 90 minute trip according to the GPS and he arrived in 90 minutes.  Not 89 or 83… 90.  Being a Dad really changes people.  I might just be mythologizing Pat, but I feel like if we took this trip 10 years ago he might have tried to lap the GPS in a race.

So we arrived at the Wells Fargo Arena just in time for the game and as a Wells Fargo customer (#ComedyMogul) I knew that I wouldn’t have to pay ATM fees (#Blessed).  The game was great if you like terrible shooting and way too many t-shirt gun promotions.  A thing I noticed about the T-shirt gun – it turns people into the rich seats into proletariat animals.  Your seats cost $200 bucks – why are you screaming like a refuge who sees a UN Peacekeeper at a child’s medium piece of sh*t t-shirt?  Our seats were much cheaper but we were closer to the haves than the have-nots, though if you are at a 76er game you are sort of a have-not by definition.

During the game there was a very cool video montage of Allen Iverson and when the crowd saw him in attendance on the jumbo tron it was the loudest the arena got until the very end.

As the game got to the end, with the Jazz possessing a very comfortable lead, the game within the game took shape.  See Jim enjoys a bit of gambling now and then (now is every morning and then is every evening) and he placed a small wager that his 76ers would beat the 7.5 point spread.  Well the Jazz had around a 13 point lead with just over a minute left.  It looked like a lost cause for Jim until someone on the 76ers (I forget who) decided he would pad his stats with a barrage of useless 3 pointers.  With 30 seconds left it was Jazz ball up 9. At this point Jim is losing his bet, but because of the 24 second shot clock the 76ers are guaranteed one more possession if the Jazz miss and the 76ers secure the rebound. Well with about 7 seconds left the Jazz missed, got their rebound and missed again!  The 76er player trying to set the record for most 3 pointers made with no chance of winning took the ball, dribbled down court and raised up for a buzzer beater. SWISH!!!  And the crowd went bezerk (Jim, Pat and I were the only people left and you would have thought they just showed Iverson again on the jumbotron putting on a 76ers jersey to play the next night).

All in all a great trip and a great win for the Jazz.

Brooklyn

After a day off to almost go to the gym and declare that I would start eating healthy the next day I ventured to Barclays Center in Brooklyn for the Jazz-Nets game.  I was picked up in a nice Uber car with my friend John in it (#ComedyMogul) and it dropped us off at the arena with a few minutes to spare, which was good since we had to go through a metal detector when we got there.  I have been to about 10 NBA arenas and I think Barclays is the only one I have entered with metal detectors.  Is that the NBA’s way of not so subtly saying that Morgan Freeman should take over ownership of the team until it is a better place to play (“You Shoot bricks don’t ya D-Will. Well,do ya?? You know what that does – it kills our fan base son, so if you want to kill our fan base stop fuc*king around and do it expeditiously!”)?

When we finally got in the arena I settled in with a hot dog and pretzel (couldn’t eat a hot dog at Friday’s game because of Lent (#CatholicMogul)) and our seats were fantastic.  Sadly, once the Nets become even decent the prices will skyrocket, but it is nice to see a 6pm Game on a Sunday with a great view of the court, without having to bring crimes against humanity charges like at Madison Square Garden.  The game was competitive, I ate cheesecake (When in Rome with a Junior’s cheesecake concession stand) and the Jazz earned a quality victory, with Gordon Hayward and Rudy Gobert solidifying my decision to make them the next two Jazz jersey purchases in the off season, continuing the black and white Jazz tradition.

After the game I asked the Jazz for free tickets next year because the Jazz are 2-0 in 2015 when I am in attendance (#Blessed).  No response so far.

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on iTunes and/or STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe for free!