As I noted recently, comics after Jonathan Winters are off my screen. [Male ones, anyway, I know, if anything, even less about female stand-ups, but don’t have the same specific objections to them.] Nobody’s ever accused me of being humorless, so I don’t feel bad about this outlook at all. What surprises me is how much reinforcement my attitude has gotten over the years. I thought The Sophisticates was a huge indictment of all the stand-up society. When I first moved to Boston in the late ’70s, comedy clubs were undergoing quite the boom. So I went to a show, I don’t remember who. I found the atmosphere relentlessly icky. Making members of the audience uncomfortable and encouraging those who were yukking it up to look down on them was a clear component of the act. It was a divisive collective experience the opposite of what I enjoyed about music performances. The final conclusion I came to is that far too many comedians are like what I consider the utter worst kind of fiction writer — those who create feuds and disasters in their own life to use as raw material.
Aw. c’mon — menace is over the top innit? I donno — when we visited Anaheim recently I thought it had the weirdest company-town vibe imaginable. Felt like you had to wear a Mouseketeer hat to live there. Non-Disney places felt like escape havens. Now it turns out Disney is doing something really, really shitty — banning LA Times critics from advance screenings because the paper is reporting on the freaky conquest of the town by the company. The only pleasure I take from any of this is that the shivery feeling I had out there was based in reality.
UPDATE: the ban is lifted after backlash that any non-arrogant non-bonehead could have seen coming.
I like to imagine that, before I was born, I was presented with a list of physical shortcomings and told I had to take several with me into life. I must have picked “Weak Eyes — with persistent stressful interludes,” but also, “Great Difficulty Tying Knots.” I was the last one in Kindergarten to learn how to tie my shoes. That bow knot was flat incomprehensible to me. But at least the knots on the extra garbage bags today were good enough.
We’ve had more screw-ups with a Sunday Only Times this year than ever before by a huge margin. Today was a beaut — fractions of the Globe and NY Times scrambled together.
As I’ve said before, no young’un could ever imagine what a glorious medium newspaper comics were once upon a time if all they had to look at was today’s examples. Only “Mother Goose & Grimm” made me smile — and it got a slightly grotesque joke right. Other strips trying to be “edgy” were more strange and crude. And some are so sloppy and slight with the artwork as to sicken me. Like I say, if you want a prime example of an extinct form …
If you find a way to dress them up in new terms and spins.
- There’s a way to eat and eat and eat and not get fat.
- Big organizations and institutions can’t be understood by anybody.
- Gender roles are really in the genes and can’t be fundamentally changed, ever.
- The government is hiding some big secret about (pick one): UFOs and aliens; paranormal mind powers; why gun violence really happens.
- Being an asshole isn’t really being an asshole.
Can’t be repeated often enough that Viet Nam was NOT “winnable.” I remember when this alternative-truth canard appeared and I was astonished how flimsy it was. There was no “if we had done this and this and this, then this would have happened.” Instead, the whole point was to establish “We lost Viet Nam because of protesters! Shriek!”
It was reminiscent of Nixon’s evil nonsense that, just because he was now POTUS, the same failed strategies would magically start to work in Viet Nam. I think the sheer pain of confronting how many lives were wasted for years helps explain why the empty “protesters did it!” caught on.
The only shred of rationale ever offered was that “well, if we’d just kept at it for five years (or 15 years) ((or 15,000 years)), of course we would have won.” The darkest side lurking behind all this was, of course, “we shoulda just nuked ’em flat and be done with it.”
I’d been amazed to discover nonsense that was going over as plausible before. But this is the earliest, most insidious alt-reality I can remember at the foundations.
I can’t deny it … “Game of Thrones” has entered a wrap-it-up-quick-and-dirty phase since expanding beyond the end of the book sources. The quest to nab a wight was fun enough to watch, but was a grindingly obvious plot-pusher from the start. The revelation that wights collapse when their maker is killed an apt surprise — but then doing in the Night King becomes such an obvious game-ender that it’s obnoxious it doesn’t happen. My favorite zinger — the undead bear. A truly cool monster and a nice foreshadow that animals get to walk the night, too.