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Sunday Bloody Sunday

First Rihanna, then an anti-“Gentile” heckler.

This weekend I learned of a few widespread rumors concerning Rihanna and Chris Brown.  Apparently love has a lot to do with it for the 21st century’s Ike and Tina.  Or at least daddy issues.  Rihanna is said to be taking Chris Brown back, which sends an awful message to young women in abusive relationships.  After sitting in the complaint room of the Bronx District Attorney’s Office for 3 1/2 years telling abused women that they should leave their abusive boyfriends or husbands it will be a tougher sell to to get Maria to leave Jorge if Rihanna won’t leave Chris.  Furthermore, as if trying to undo the symbolic value of Barack Obama in a one-two punch, Rihanna is also rumored to be preggers with Chris Brown’s spawn.  So I guess Rihanna is getting kicked inside and out.  I assume either Pharell or Timbaland is mixing a beat for Chris Brown’s newest single “Forgive Me” or some ridiculous song like that.  We have forgiven men peeing on women (R Kelly), men hitting women (Tommy Lee) and men swallowing women whole (Macy Gray) so I see no reason that with the right PR campaign, the right beat and the right stupid American public why Chris Brown can’t make a comeback.

Well, last night I wanted to make a few current event jokes (hoping certain Jews lost money with Madoff, Chris Brown/Rihanna jokes, talking about Obama shattering MC Hammer’s record for most money spent by a black man in one day), but I was interrupted by a heckler at the Goldhawk before I could start a joke.  I have a sort of repressed temper that used to be really bad.  Last night it almost came out, but instead this heckler simply ruined the end of what was a ridiculously great show.  Here’s a recap:

  • Jim Dodge led off the show brilliantly.  We have our 3rd big crowd in a row – woo-hoo.
  • Pat Breslin steps up and talked about his new engagement – laughs ensue, everybody happy.
  • Jess Burkle, who may be one of the quickest, sharpest comics I’ve ever seen on any level absolutely destroyed the room.
  • Mark Normand – with the toughest job of the night is equal to the challenge and killed.
  • Helen Hong goes up and this is where I start to smell trouble.  Retarded drunk guy comes in and is speaking a little loudly and trying to inject himself into Helen’s routine, but she dealt with him quickly and powered through her routine maintaining the great energy of the room while he sort of stayed quiet.  But like a bad plot of 24 he was just the opening plot line that ends around episode 15 to be usurped by an even worse plot.  Helen Hong’s set ends, enter the The Heckling Jewish Guy (HJG)
  • Jim brings me up to my Craig Ferguson credit:

HJG: Ferguson sucks

J-L: Alright – thanks man.  Any Jewish people here pissed about Madoff(about to go into a Madoff joke)?

HJG: I’m Jewish – right here. Fu-king gentiles are mad because they lost all their money with Madoff.

J-L: OK buddy, let’s be serious.  (scowling at him so that his entire party is telling him to be quiet and apologize for him – mood lost for the show which was one of our best ever)

HJG: Yes, let’s be serious.

J-L (wanting to plant the base of the mic stand through his skull and give him the worst beating a Jew has seen since Jesus): Jim, can we get some staff in here please (sitting meditating, forehead vein pulsing)?

HJG: (leaving with friends): I’m Jewish, Fu-k you gentile (these were the words I heard, perhaps in different order).

I do not deal well with hecklers, especially drunk and stupid ones – they are sort of like the Terminator – “they can’t be bargained with. they can’t be reasoned with.  they won’t stop ever, until the show is dead.”  My response is all or nothing.  Either I let it pass with no response or I really ruin the show by saying something like “SHUT YOUR FU-KING MOUT MOTHERFU-KER!”  I have found the passive route more likely to give me an aneurysm, but maintains a better show.  

I should have probably left the stage and yelled at Pat and Jim – “keep him here!” and then come back while Jim and Pat are having drinks with him and gone Goodfellas on him.  There’s always next show.

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Why I Feel Bad For A-Rod

The fact that he had sex with the senior citizen yoga champ is only one reason.

For years Alex Rodriguez has been the target of Haters.  There is no other word for them.

When he came into the league he was insanely talented.  From the age of 20 he was putting up big numbers and he just kept getting better.  He was more talented, better looking and when he signed his 10 year, $250 million contract, richer than anyone else in the game.  But he never had the cool guy appeal of Derek Jeter that would get him undying loyalty of fans, or the bad guy demeanor of Barry Bonds that would get fans because of an almost anti-hero status.  Alex just went about his business and treated the game just like that.  He was a self-conscious business man playing a sport for a living.    He is a corporate sports figure and people resent him for it (at least America is finally hating the actually corporate d-bags as well).  He was too perfect, or worse, looked like he was trying to be perfect.  And it seems that nothing annoys people more nowadays, than the guy who is trying to be better than others.  It reminds others of their failings and builds resentment and a desire to uncover some hypocrisy or fault within that person.  America’s motto might as well be, “If you can’t beat them, beat them down.”

When the steroid and HGH scandal began breaking I kept saying A-Rod could not be guilty.  He had so much natural talent coming into the league: speed, power, skills that it did not seem impossible by any stretch that over the course of 8 years he could get gradually bigger and stronger.  From 18 to 23 I went from 205 to to 248.  And that was just subway sandwiches, protein shakes and hostility at being a hoops team bench warmer that went into that growth.  So why was it implausible that a professional athlete of A-Rod’s caliber could not put on 40 pounds of muscle in 5 or 6 years?

His transformation was not the transformation that Mark McGwire or Barry Bonds underwent, which resembled the origin stories of superheros (Bonds/McGwire was once a normal baseball player and then after the nuclear spill he grew to the size of a house and could hit a home run just by looking at the ball).  Not to mention that everyone involved with A-Rod in baseball genuinely seemed surprised when the news was revealed.

But there was a sign that something was not right with A-Rod.  It was not his stats, his build, his self-conscious behavior.  It was the fact that he was banging a former pop star who’s body now resembled a yoga infused Iggy Pop.  While Madonna seems committed to going from pop icon to Cher, A-Rod has fast forwarded right past cougar land into the era of the saber-toothed tigers.  Wasn’t this a cry for help? Injecting testicle shrinking substances in your body is no danger compared to sticking your dipstick inside that kabbalah cesspool.  Who knows, may A-Rod is gay and he is just banging Madonna because she is a step away from women and a step towards men.  If this is the case, might I suggest the transition team, so to speak, for A-Rod (in increasing order of masculinity):

  • Madonna
  • Jaime Lee Curtis
  • Ricky Martin
  • Lance Bass
  • Macy Gray
  • Hugh Jackman
  • Janet Reno

But it seems the safest way to be a sports fan is to be cynical.  For years fans (me included) bought that the ball was juiced.  Major League Baseball actually convinced fans that tight stitching was leading to home run records getting broken and then they make a show of outrage while they leave their Frankensteins out to dry.  I don’t know what A-Rod will say as his excuse, if he says anything at all, but if he says that he used them because he was tired of seeing his natural talent unfairly eclipsed by a game that was allowing rampant drug use then I could be ok with that.  He has enough years left in his career that I think he could rehabilitate himself, if the Haters let him.

And assuming there is an inquiry into steroids into comedy, it should be noted that my personal high in bench press was achieved prior to my comedy career and before Carrot Top showed up with Dwight Howard’s shoulders.