Begging For Laughs

Guilt consumes me today. Guilt and a lingering pain in my lower guts. A major source of this is me still trying to get my head around those recent fatality estimates from Iraq. I read somewhere, by someone (don't recall as I've been all over the place in the past 24), that if we were to apply those Iraq death stats to the US, it would translate into something like 7.5 million dead Americans, per capita. Dunno if this is true, as math was my worst subject (thus killing my dream to be an astronaut), but if it's not seven and a half mil, it's gotta be in the millions, easily. And given how many Americans flip out at the slightest inconvenience, the retail killings alone would be mind-blowing. Imagine all those who own firearms suddenly free to do what they want to anyone who displeased them or got in their way, and no government force to stop them. A libertarian's dream, no doubt.

The other source of my guilt is that I must pull out the begging bowl and ask for donations. Things are very tight here in Son land. I won't go into all the particulars, but trust me when I say that the next month is gonna be a real nut-cruncher all around. My blue collar job, the one I work at night, may soon be gone or diminished in such a way that I might as well toil for minimum wage. In a sense, I'm kinda relieved, as I'd like to move back to the writing world I once inhabited and did well in. I'm trying to nail down a regular book reviewing gig with a major West Coast paper, but that shit takes time. Plus, a lot of editors, when they read my manias posted here, aren't in a terrible rush to hire someone like me. The beauty of blogs is that you can say anything you damn well please, no matter how fucked it is. That's also the downside, especially when looking for "regular" employment.

Anyway, I need whatever any of you can give. I have thousands of new readers who've just discovered the Son, and you keep coming back. If you find any worth in what I do, please help me through this rough patch. Unlike a lot of blogs, I write essays. I try to dig as deeply as I can into any given topic, though sometimes, like yesterday, my disgust and anger keeps me kicking dirt at the surface. That happens. I wear this blog on my sleeve. I don't hide behind an online persona or attitude. I give you what I can as honestly as I can, which at times makes me look like an idiot raver, but that's part of the ride. I've come to love this space and the people who read my musings. This is one of the best writing gigs I've ever had. A few extra bucks would make it even better.

I'm planning other things, including bringing ads to the Son. But for the short term, the PayPal button is there, if you are so inclined.

Okay. Enough groveling. Let's try to share the joy of laughter. It's Friday the 13th, after all.

I'm not a big Matt Stone/Trey Parker fan. I respect what they do, but their "Fuck everybody!" stance gets stale real fast, as in the overrated "Team America." But I did like the "South Park" movie, which remains one of the funniest things I've ever seen on the big screen. And this following clip about 9/11 conspiracies is equally as good.



Now, let's go back to "The Ben Stiller Show" which, while short-lived, was consistently well-written and acted. It also served as a lab of sorts for "Mr. Show", as Bob Odenkirk, fresh from the writing staff of "SNL", was able to display the on-screen comedic talent that Lorne Michaels felt wasn't right for his franchise, talent that would fully blossom on HBO alongside "Stiller" writer and bit player David Cross. Here Odenkirk plays Charles Manson as "Lassie", with Janeane Garofalo as the smiling 50s Mom, and Andy Dick as the repressed 50s Dad. Great stuff. And oddly enough, no Ben Stiller.



Further back we go, to October 25, 1975, the third episode of "NBC's Saturday Night", hosted by Rob Reiner. Andy Kaufman lip-syncs "Pop Goes The Weasel", which, like his Mighty Mouse routine, is not only brilliantly simple and pure, it's an adult extension of what Kaufman did in his bedroom as a kid. Recall that Kaufman actually auditioned to be in "SNL"'s original cast, and if you've seen his screen test (which I'm trying to locate online), it's clear that he didn't take the opportunity very seriously, clucking out a goofy version of the "Superman" TV show's opening narration in a weird, pseudo-Southern voice. But then, knowing Kaufman, maybe he was serious. Only his partner Bob Zmuda could say for sure.



While we're digging Andy Kaufman, it would be nice to see the complete phony "Fridays" sketch in which he broke character on live TV and caused a near-riot onstage. All I can find is this video summation of the incident, complete with the pertinent clips. As you'll see, the floor crew thought this was real. Only Michael Richards, producer John Moffitt and head writer Jack Burns were in on the gag, and when Burns picks a fight with Kaufman, the techies react as if it is actually going down.



And speaking of "Fridays", here's my favorite character from that show: Michael Richards as Battle Boy. With Melanie Chartoff as his little sister, and Maryedith Burrell as his screaming mother. The interesting thing about this clip is how much it resembles National Review editorial meetings. Ever wonder why Jonah Goldberg looks a little dusty?