Showing posts with label Truth in Comedy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Truth in Comedy. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

A Treatise Inspired by Adam Carolla

Okay, let me say this: I have never liked Adam Carolla. I find his nasal voice to be annoying and even when he was giving “sex advice” on MTV’s Loveline he sounded cocky and dismissive. That being said, perhaps he isn’t a bad comedian. Although he’s damn near 50 years old, he’s got a teenaged-frat-boy sense of humor that appeals to many….teenaged frat boys.

However, his recent homophobic, anti-trans (and anti-Asian?) tirade on his podcast The Adam Carolla Show —one of the most downloaded podcasts in the country—has confirmed every negative assumption I’ve ever made about theman

Have a listen:


Okay, it’s gross, we know. It’s also par for the Carolla course, it seems. What makes me so angry about it is his “apology”—issued via Twitter, no less. Because after all, why would you need more than 140 characters to say sorry about something you’re not actually sorry about?
“I’m sorry my comments were hurtful. That being said, I’m a comedian, not a politician.”

Now, as you may know, the blacktress has also come under fire for comments made via blog and on stage. I have been misinterpreted in some instances and in others, it simply hurt the listener to hear my dramatized/performance-level anger and/or musings. Both of these are par for the course in comedy and any other form of public expression. You cannot control how someone’s brain transforms information. And, thanks to the internet, you can’t control how someone receives information.

But that doesn’t mean that comedians aren’t accountable. When a comic responds to criticism with the phrase “it’s just a joke,” or “I’m not a politician,” it implies that there’s no intention behind his or her words. And honestly, any comic who has actually worked to achieve a certain level of success/public recognition has spent years going through shitty open mics; has spent their days reading—or writing—books titled Truth in Comedy and The Comedy Bible and Comedy Writing Secrets; and making national recognition a life goal. In short: every word he writes or says in a comedic context isn’t “just a joke”. If you want to be a joke-maker, then perhaps you shouldn’t address issues of same-sex marriage, equal rights for people of all creed, religion, or gender on a public platform.

Point the third: There is a difference between a rant (Carolla’s tirade) and a bit (a comedian’s crafted joke on a particular topic). Of course, talking off the cuff/not in the context of a stand-up set or sketch, not everything is going to have beats, patterns, word play, or LOL moments. But a bit is a routine on a given topic. It takes an idea and mines it in a way that is humorous.
A rant is “speaking or shouting at length in a loud of impassioned way.”
That’s what Carolla did--in this case, about the LGBTQ community as a whole.

Yes, there can be ranting bits—Carlin and the like—but it’s usually the way they process and explain their rage (i.e.their unique and offbeat thinking”) that provides humor.
Carolla just went off.
And, constitutionally, he’s allowed to do so. But did he really have to spend 7 minutes on it?

Guys, this is coming from a self-proclaimed mad blacktress. I have definitely utilized the guise of Sojourner to say things that people didn’t like to hear. And of course, there is truth in comedy, and although there is dramatization for effect or performance, there is a true root sometimes. But does he really have to use being a “comedian” as a pass to be a total bigot?

Oh yeah, and regarding this whole “comedian” thing—his rant wasn’t remotely funny, so he seems to have failed on that end, too.

What say you?

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

(A Vain Attempt at) Radio Silence

Hello Gentle Readers,

You may have noticed a lack of bloggery over the last week. This wasn't a hiatus as much as a crisis of faith (in blogging, that is). I'll admit that I've definitely brought new meaning to the acronym TMI with my posts, but with tags like "funny," "not funny," and "awkward," I assumed my goal of entertaining would get me off the hook (while at the same time allowing me to exorcise my demons). Alas, no. To top it off, I recently discovered that a Google search of my full name (my real one, obvs) will lead you to not only some wonderful (i.e. NSFW) youtube clips of me discussing Ps in Vs without Cs but also my blog! I, Sojourner, can’t handle my own truth!

This has led to me feel intensely self-conscious, and almost wondering if I should continue with the bloggery. Of course, this is the Internet and my posts aren’t under wraps, but they are also something for which someone actively has to search. If that’s the case, should I not write what I feel, or should people I have IRL relationships with not use my blog as a means of gaining access? Or maybe I should do me and they should do them, and just let the computer chips fall where they may? Yeah, that sounds about right.

Bottom line is: It’s called “Diary of a Mad Blacktress,” not “Diary of a Diplomatic Blacktress”--there should be little surprise if it gets darker than it would in person. I’m not saying people shouldn’t get angry when I express my truths, or that I'm a victim—we all know my feelings on HBCUs has inspired to all sorts of venomous comments—but if you choose to view this page, you must be prepared for my truth, my whole truth, and nothing but my truth! After all, my thoughts don’t make it law, and since when has a diary been filled with rainbows and kittens?
I mean, besides Justin Bieber’s.

Ok, now that that’s out of the way, I do want to let you guys know that things have been a hot mess--and I swear, no humans will be emotionally harmed in the creation of this post.

On Friday I had a 7 ½-hour job interview with seven different interviewers, during which I was asked all types of math and logic problems. Considering I was applying for a position that would mostly entail some copyediting and light Excel-spreadsheet-creating, I was definitely ill equipped for such stumpers as “How can we go about determining the number of teachers in North America?” for which I had to divide 300,000,000 by 175,000 BY HAND.

I haven’t done long division by hand since before 9/11, y'all. The climate’s changed, and I can’t cope!

I left the interview feeling stupider than I’ve felt in a long time. Not like I’m a girl genius, but I’ve never been in a job interview where I’ve felt the failure taking place. I watched interviewers 6 and 7 try to keep straight faces as I botched very basic things (like, you know, saying that the population of North America was 65 million). I won’t go into anymore, since Big Brother’s likely watching, but let’s just say Friday night involved a lot of cupcakes.

Yesterday featured a 2 ½-hour doctor’s appointment in which it was determined that I am developing glaucoma. After waiting for ridiculous amounts of time and pressing my face against what I’m sure were less-than-sanitary chin rests, the doctor deemed me a “glaucoma suspect”. Um, why did she have to make it sound sketchy? Was she profiling me? Did I commit an ocular crime against myself?
I’m sorry if I sound like “conspiracy brother,” but ever since I saw the new Uncle Ben’s rice commercial, I’ve been on the alert for other attempts at eradicating the brown.


The goodness of brown, now in WHITE???? Why can’t the rice just be brown?! How many folks are looking at their plates going, “this rice tastes good, but it’s brown coloring just makes me sick.” I can’t handle this RICism!

After all the test, my vision returned to normal this morning—just in time for me to check my e-mail and read that I was rejected from the Women in Comedy Festival. Apparently, a show titled “The Blacktress Goes Inside Caucasia” isn’t appealing to the comedic women of Boston (I may have to call up Henry Louis Gates Jr. and see if he can get me and the ladies on a porch with some beers). I know rejection’s a part of the biz, but I’m just a squirrel trying to get a nut, y’all! And by “nut” I mean “seven minutes of stage time.” Is that so wrong?

Okay, I don’t want to leave you as depressed as I am, so here’s some potentially good news: I have a meeting with an agent on Thursday!

Unfortunately, it’s not one of the ones who came to my commercial class last week. I say it’s unfortunate because one of them was a hilarious nerdy gay man who referenced both Battlestar Galactica and Truth in Comedy, the improviser’s bible. If there’s anyone who should be representing a blacktress, it’s him.

I was put in touch with the woman I’m meeting on Thursday through one of the teachers of the class. After sending a thank-you e-mail to her, I followed up with:

Do you know if there are agents that specialize in/look primarily for comedians? I feel as though there's a lack of funny Af-Am females who aren't acting ghetto and aren't over 40, and there has to be an agent that wants to fill the void. In other words: I need to be playing Michelle Obama on SNL. Let me know your thoughts if you get a chance.

Best,
Blacktress

I was mostly being silly, but since she had complimented me several times on my sense of humor, I figured I could get her attention with some outlandish statements. She didn’t reply for a little while, so I started to get nervous (you know, just like I do after I tell a guy I have a crush on him). Just before I flipped out, I got an e-mail back from her titled “meet and greet,” addressed to be and some aol address. It only read:

C_____- meet Sojourner. She thinks she should play Michelle Obama on a miniseries.

Two minutes later I had an interview scheduled for 1pm!!!

Oh, and while I’m on an upswing, let me bring your attention to this wonderful video posted by the elite gay visionary Michael Martin. Re-post and spread widely!




*With a title espousing TRUTH, it's no wonder I love this book.