Christmas, 2018
Merry Christmas, one and all.
Sorry for yet another lengthy interval of silence—but, as you should know by now, inactivity on my blog means that I am usually writing and creating like a madman and this is no exception.
I’ve typed 150 pages in the past month, all new stuff, all of it a complete departure from the rest of my body of work (and, let’s face it, it was a weird oeuvre to begin with).
To sum up the mindset behind this latest project: I’ve been increasingly bugged by our inability to have meaningful dialogue these days, the way certain subjects or issues seem to shut down reasoned discourse, like an iron curtain descending with a thud.
I despise censorship, whether it comes from the Right or Left, reject any attempt to control or delineate terms of debate. You don’t like what you’re hearing, piss off somewhere else.
I started writing down a series of blackly comic rants about everything getting on my nerves at this present moment…and quickly filled an entire notebook (and then some) with furious jottings. I discovered a previously unknown well-spring of repressed frustration and rage.
Not sure what I’ll do with this collection of routines and spleen, once I’ve edited it into some kind of shape. There are so many “hot buttons” these days, everyone shouting to have their cause heard, whining and pleading for special consideration.
Comedians and satirists are taking it in the neck for introducing controversial subjects, making their audience feel (gasp!) uncomfortable. Many top-flight comics refuse to perform at colleges and universities—once hotbeds of free speech—because they’re worried about getting pilloried for crossing the line into bad taste or controversy. Is that fucked or what?
How will my oddball book of rants fare in such an environment?
They crucified Lenny Bruce for using certain words, vilified Ricky Gervais for calling them on their hypocrisy and bullshit and turfed Kevin Hart as Oscar host because he failed their political correctness litmus test.
Fuck these people—have you ever asked yourself why their skin is so paper thin?
Are they really so perfect, so holier than thou…or does their heightened sensitivity mask deeper sins, a darkness they claim to see only in others?
Why do they live in such small, cramped rooms, with all the mirrors covered?
Beautiful Desolation 