Rape Jokes, Offending People & Comedic Responsibility

I'm just tired of comics pretending they don't have any responsibility. Any comic reading this is already rolling their eyes. I almost wanted to title this differently because I've seen how comics act when they have the word "responsibility" thrown at them. I'll get to that in a second but first let me explain my side, as a comic, as a man and as a human being.

I believe stand up comedy is the greatest art form. Aside from the enjoyment of getting laughs and clicking into the minds and energy of multiple strangers at once, it allows people to share more complex/less available ideas about life than any other arena I've found. There can be a transcendent element to it. Symbiosis, even. Because there are truly no rules, no boxes and no constraints on what you can share your perspective on.

And because of that, I don't think that any topic should be off limits. Including rape. Why? Because rape happens. Any art form that would ignore an element of real life, is a shitty art form.

That's why comics should be able to say/talk about the word, "nigger". Because that word exists. To sweep it under the rug is not how you grow past it. Exposing dark elements to light always makes them evaporate. Because it takes the fear away from it. And creates understanding instead.

9/11. That's also really offensive.

Now, I know many women that have been raped, I have friends that have been called nigger (without irony) and my dad was covered in soot from the Towers going down that day. This is my perspective. I did not choose it, it's just what I have. And my perspective is not more justified than any else's.

But those 3 topics are very offensive. The mere mention of them can turn rooms cold. And to me, that's the beauty of talking about them. You will offend people.

A lot of comics complain about people getting offended by their jokes. I personally think it's a good thing. Because it means it's sparking something in the audience. It's getting to the core of the struggles we all deal with. It provokes dialogue. And we need to have more dialogue. So people should get offended by comedy sometimes. It means we're doing something right. We're pulling on the strings of life that people don't want pulled on, but may need pulled on to grow.

Some comics get off on offending people. Which I also think is misguided. Because offending people for the sake of offending them is also simple. Just make noises that people don't like: "nigger", "cunt", "faggot"...once you learn the barks you can reproduce them easily. I'm more interested in comics that offend people for a purpose. For the sake of an idea/perspective.

"But they should know that we're just joking." I hear comics say that a lot. I don't know why "joke" is synonymous with "untruth". You hear that cliche of "Nothing's funnier than the truth", and "It's funny because it's true", how many times have we heard that? From what I can tell, ALL JOKES are based on truth. Even absurd ones.

My friend Bill Stiteler has a great joke about political cartoons. The joke itself goes into Loonsville but it's based on how political cartoons are jam packed full of heavy handed metaphors/symbolism. Stiteler highlights how absurd they are by creating his own political cartoon. And it's funny because Stiteler's cartoon, while absurd, isn't far from the reality. From the TRUTH.

I bring that up because it's an important distinction to make that it's not only "honest" comics that base their jokes on truth. It's all of us. Whatever word you want to use: truth, life, reality...we all draw from the same pool. That's why the audience laughs. They recognize the validity of what we're saying. Even if it's absurd. So "joking" shouldn't by synonymous with "untruth". In fact, it's way closer to being synonymous with "truth". So whenever someone says, "I'm just joking" they're really saying, "I'm just saying things based on truth."

I say all of that to say this: Comics have power. Personally, the ideas and words shared by George Carlin, Louis CK, Doug Stanhope, Bill Hicks, Bill Burr, Patrice O'neal, Patton Oswalt and many others have had a profound effect on how I view the world. As Carlin pointed out, when you get people to laugh you get them to drop their guard, and open their minds to new ideas. That's the power of a comic. 

And as we all know, with power comes responsibility. No, comics are not politicians. No, we are not religious figureheads. But we are human beings. That are amplified for minutes at a time. Every human being influences those around them, whether it be energetically or spiritually or emotionally.

Even if you don't think you do. Which honestly, is a more comforting idea. I think people in general like to think that their existence doesn't affect others. Lets you off the hook. But our words do affect the thoughts/lives of others. Especially if you say things into a microphone on an elevated stage with a spotlight on you.

Comedy, as far as I can tell, always comes at the expense of something. Whether it be a person, place, thing or idea. What I'm trying to preach is mindfulness of what we're putting at expense. And mindfulness of our influence.

We're going to offend people. Even a young Brian Regan did. But the point is to be mindful of why we are. If I offend somebody because I'm trying to explore race relations in order to improve them, I can live with that. But to make a joke at the expense of the more vulnerable of people: black people, women, Muslims...it's just not a thing I believe in anymore. 60 people laughing at 1 isn't funny to me. It's everything that's wrong with society, and sometimes, with comedy.

I love all of us unconditionally.

Losing Someone That You Kind of Knew

I just found out that a friend of mine, Emily Singleton, just died tragically from falling into the train tracks at Canal Street. She was a person that I hung out with at Tea Lounge, and she would watch me host/perform and she’d be a great audience member. She was someone I connected with.

News Article: http://www.dnainfo.com/new-york/20130408/tribeca/body-on-canal-st-tracks-identified-as-22-year-old-from-park-slope

This news jarred me. Whenever you find out that someone you know has died, it’s jarring. But this hit me for a couple of different reasons.

For starters, Emily was a beautiful person, in every sense of the word. She was magnetic and positive. She was like me in a beautiful woman’s body. She was just a delight to be around.

But also, I didn’t really know her at all.

I didn’t know she was an actress. I honestly didn’t even know her last name. The news told me that. We even had a running gag together that she would remember my name and I would always forget hers. Mostly due to the fact that when you perform, you’re always introduced with your name. So she heard my name a lot. Emily never performed so I didn’t hear her referred to by name that often. 

I mostly ever saw her at Tea Lounge. We would have conversations that told us that we were people that got each other, but never went too deep into the levels in which we did. Most of that is on me. I think I was intimidated by her beauty and therefore didn’t try to go deeper. Which sucks, because she made it abundantly clear that she was a big fan of mine. For me personally, female validation is a thing. It’s probably one of my weaknesses, in a sense. I care about what women think. And Emily thought I was cool.  

Or I may be romanticizing our level of connection now that she’s gone.

But I don’t think I am because I recognize the reality, which is that we didn’t knoweach other. She knew certain things about me from watching me perform, but I never really got to know her. Where was she from? I don’t remember. Family situation? No idea. In my world, she was a background character that was maybe going to be a breakout character for me a couple of seasons down the road. Now I’ll never know. 

If one of my best friends died, I’d be really sad. But I’d also know that I had established a very real and complete connection with that person. With someone like Emily, I have no idea. How high did the ceiling of our connection go?

And maybe it wouldn’t have even been romantic. Maybe I would’ve gotten to know her better, confessed love to her that wasn’t reciprocated and felt weird about it for a week. Maybe she’d just be another one of my hot female friends a la the great Kaytlin Bailey. Or maybe we’d have had an awesome relationship somewhere down the road when I had more of my shit together. 

But no, that’s not what happened. What happened is exactly what was supposed to. And I don’t mean that in a cruel way, there are people who actually knew Emily and loved her very personally (I love her unconditionally as I do everyone). But in the sense that any scenario of a possible future I put in my head will now clearly be incorrect. We were friendly acquaintances.

That word “acquaintance” sounds so shitty, doesn’t it? Just so hollow and devoid of human connection. But in this case, it wasn’t that. Emily and I’s relationship was hinged on 3 decent conversations, and a half dozen mild interactions. But I enjoyed all of them. I hope she did too. 

R.I.P. Emily Singleton, a great person that I kind of knew

How I Learned To Love Everyone Unconditionally

It's occurred to me that this whole "Loving Everyone Unconditionally" business is important enough to warrant a full blog about. Because people seem to have questions. Understandably. So I'll share what my journey has been thus far.

After smoking weed with Bryson back in September, a calming sense of peace and understanding washed over me. It was a spiritual awakening that changed my life. It filled me with so many thoughts and so much perspective I was overwhelmed in documenting it all.

A month later, I started introspecting about how I had acquired this new sense of peace. I realized that my sense of self worth was not driven by ego, but by an acceptance of my flaws. I saw my flaws as the thing that made my fragile existence beautiful. It's the struggle of trying to live a good life while being flawed that is true beauty. Some think the goal is to be flawless, but if one is flawless, one does not need to struggle. But the human struggle to live well with this heavy load of flaws that we have no choice but to burden...that's beautiful.

I started looking at myself objectively. "Look at me wanting to connect to people without hurting them or myself. Look at me wanting to be honest but being afraid of what people think. Look at me knowing that I have to make mistakes, painful mistakes, in order to grow. But being willing to."
"Look at me with my food addiction and my fear of women and resentment of my father...but trying to overcome. Look at me trying."

That's when I realized that I didn't love myself in spite of my flaws, I loved myself because of my flaws. And I realized that made my love for myself unconditional.

But of course, we're all flawed. So why would my unconditional love stop with one flawed being? Any being that's flawed is in the same boat I am. Why would I judge someone for having different flaws than mine? Why would I not love their flaws as my own? Since after all, we're all one.

Which, by the way, is as cliche as is necessary because people don't understand that until they're ready to. That goes for anything. Anything you don't understand, it just means you're not ready to yet. Which is fine. It's beautiful. Reading/hearing "we're all one" won't mean anything to you until it does. I heard "We're all one", a lot growing up. I understood it 5 months ago.

I'm tempted to get very metaphysical and eastern philosophical here but I won't. What I'll say is I understood that there were no "levels" of flaws. Because I didn't choose to be me. No one chose to be themselves. You don't choose your race, gender, nationality, culture, age, who your parents are or even your own genetic makeup. I realized we all live circumstantial lives. So why would I judge a person born into circumstance? My circumstances are fortunate. I could've been a pedophile, or a murderer, or an ethnic cleanser. I still could be, technically. If I just started doing those things. But my circumstances haven't led me there.

Lucky me, I've got food addiction. You won't get put in a cage for that.

So at this point the unconditional love I had for myself permeated outwards towards everyone I met. I saw their flaws as beautiful. And I loved them because of their flaws. And since I understood that we're all flawed, and we all struggle through this fragile existence that life is, I loved everyone unconditionally.

I don't take anybody's flaws personally. If you hurt me, I'll get it. It was probably unintentional. Most people don't want to hurt others. People in my life don't. If you're surrounded by people that do, you need to ask yourself why that is. Because everything in your life that shows up shows up because of the energy you put out. If you're attracting negativity that's what shows up.

But even an amazing person can lose their way and hurt intentionally. If you hurt me intentionally, I still get it. You're flawed. You're probably hurting, yourself. Or maybe I hurt you in some way. We're fragile creatures interacting, these things happen. I'll still love you. There's nothing to me that's "unforgivable."

Including myself. Whenever I overeat, I step back, forgive myself and try to stay present. That's the other thing I can't stress enough: Loving unconditionally starts with loving yourself unconditionally. It's a hard process. Start with forgiveness and acceptance of self. Treat yourself gently. The golden rule is "treat others the way you want to be treated", but a lot of people are harder on themselves than they are on others. Many people's compassion extends to others more than themselves. You wouldn't call your fiend a piece of shit for being on the internet all day instead of writing (or whatever). But you will get down on yourself, in your own head. This inward negativity permeates out eventually. So if you have to, reverse the golden rule: "Treat yourself as gently as you treat others."

So, that's basically it. I love my flaws. I love everyone's flaws. I love everyone unconditionally. 

My sister taught me this symbol. I like it a lot. Unconditionally.

Unconditional Love and "Not Owing" (by Lawson Leong)

Here's the thing:

I try not to feel like I owe people things.  I don't owe anybody anything, because nobody owes me anything.  I love everyone unconditionally.  Without conditions.  It's not based on this horseshit "give and take" system.  I give and don't expect anything in return.  Because you don't owe me.  That's not a thing.  And if someone gives to me I don't owe them.  Only give if you want to give, not to keep score.

I don't even owe anybody words or kindness. I don't owe anybody politeness.  Not even my own parents.  But I give that and more.  Not because I owe, but because I understand.  I understand that people are flawed, and worth caring about, worth loving.  I do only the things that I want to do, and not out of a feeling of debt or or obligation.  I care because I care.  You don't have to give a fuck about me.  That's not what it's about.

I value my words, actions and love.  I wouldn't want to weigh them down with feelings of debt.  I don't owe anybody unconditional love.  If I did it wouldn't be pure. I give it because I give it.  That's it.

Thing is, when people give to you, you should be grateful.  That's the healthy way to receive.  But people are flawed, and some people won't be grateful.  Some people won't say "thank you."  But I didn't give to them so I could hear a "thank you."  I did it because I WANTED TO.  Do what you want, not what you're "supposed to."

And giving to others will make them want to give to you.  Kindness begets kindness.  Trust begets trust.  Someone who gives is someone worth giving to.  At this point, I'm not absolute in this ideology.  I still feel like I owe many people things.  Because I live in society.  But I know I shouldn't feel that way.  No one should.  It's unhealthy.  When you do things out of debt, it builds resentment.

When you do things only out of understanding and love, you feel freedom.  The one thing holding me back on the idea of not owing people anything, was the notion that parents MUST owe it to their kids to try to raise them.  After all, kids didn't choose to exist, parents brought them in, so parents must owe their kids.  The thing is, parents love their kids unconditionally.

That's why becoming a parent is a thing, their child is the first being they love unconditionally.  So they raise them not out of owing, but out of...unconditional love.  They give, without conditions; not out of obligation.  It doesn't occur to them that they owe their kids.  All that occurs to them is unconditional love.

So yeah, love everyone the way you would love your own child.  Because your child is you, and you know that.  But what people miss is that everyone is you, and you are everyone.  We're all one.

That's why I love everyone unconditionally.  It's a formula.  I love myself unconditionally and we are all one.  So I have to love everyone unconditionally.  It's math.  I'm not special, I just saw the formula.  Math is thought of as a dry subject, with no heart in it.  But sometimes it helps you realize that you love everyone.  Go figure.  I don't really drink, but I imagine a fun drinking game could be to read this post, and take a shot every time the word "love" or "unconditionally" shows up.  Don't pass out yet, because I got 2 more for you.

I love you all unconditionally.

On Being a Dick, part 1

I'm really struggling to start this. So let's cut the “writing” part of it.

I did a show this past weekend. It was a “holiday show” in which a lot of different members of the New York alt scene had “cameo” roles. Three comics hosted. Ten comics formed a “choir” for the opening sketch. Two comics did a puppet thing. Then there was a ukelele thing. Then three people did this. Then two did that.

A Night of Many Stars!!

As a Christmas-themed holiday-themed show, the hosts asked me, Lawson Leong, and Jarrid Reed to be the “3 Wise Men” of comedy, since we are three of the most verbose, philosophical comics in the scene.

The comic who asked us to perform was Bill Stiteler, a young comic who was one of the openers of my special, and a comic I love. During the week I asked him a question or two about the performance, and he wrote back and said “It's just 3 minutes! Leave it to you guys to over-think everything!”

How could I not trust this guy?

He said it lovingly (as lovingly as one can type text), and so the three of us kind of laughed it off and said “Yeah, who cares? We'll just fuck around and figure it out.”

Well, the show was Saturday, and as the show was happening, it was becoming increasingly clear that we were the only ones who had not rehearsed our performance multiple times. In fact, we found out after the show that there had been actual rehearsals for the show, but they just hadn't told us about them.

In the moment, I thought maybe they had put together the rehearsal really fast, and they'd just forgotten to tell us about it? Almost like they were hurriedly leaving for the airport, ala Kevin's family in 'Home Alone,' and we'd been the act that was sleeping in the upstairs attic, so they just forgot we were there. But I'm pretty sure they just didn't tell us because they thought it'd be weird to make us sit through a 90-minute rehearsal to do a 3-minute thing.

Moments later, Bill shot forward and shouted "KEVIN!!!"

Midway through the show, I was freaking out a little. Everyone else had prepared. And the show was going great. It's awesome to be invited on a show with a ton of people and moving parts. It's like being in one of those movies that's obviously awful, so the movie poster is just a bunch of different heads of famous people, almost like the poster is saying “This movie has 30 famous people in it, and half the cast from 'Modern Family.'  How could it possibly be shitty!?!”

Do you not hate this actor? You do? How bout this one?  Yes?  How about--okay yes a little, or yes a lot? Okay I have 46 more questions...

It was like that, except if good actors actually did those movies.  And we felt like the three dudes that could ruin it for everyone.

Well, not exactly. I knew we weren't going to ruin the show. We had a small role, so I wasn't worried about that. I was freaking out for a similar but different reason – I didn't want to seem like we didn't respect the show. The three hosts – Bill, Eytan Kurland, and Nick Naney – had poured their heart and soul into the show. There were 30 people involved. They rehearsed with a choir, for god's sake. The idea of seeming like I was too cool to give a shit about it? It was terrifying. No comic ever wants to be that asshole.

So me, Lawson, and Jarrid stepped outside, to try and figure out some semblance of a plan. Which is when I did something hilariously dick-ish.

I started talking about “the meaning of Christmas” with Lawson and Jarrid, because that's what we were supposed to sum up in our three minutes. However, right outside the club, there were two newer comics standing there. They're both good guys, and we've talked a bunch of times. So when the three of us started discussing the “true meaning of Christmas,” those two guys – not knowing we were on the show in about five minutes – naturally presumed it was just a regular conversation, and joined in with us.

But with them there, we couldn't get any of our shit together. After a minute or two of trying to talk to just Lawson and Jarrid - and with the other two not getting the hint - I turned to Lawson and said “we really need to find a place where it's just the three of us.”

The problem was, we were outside, on the side of a street in Queens. There was no place with "just the three of us."  Unless, of course, I shamed those two young comics into awkwardly walking away to anywhere-except-here.  Or as it's also known, the Island of Misfit Open-Mic'ers.

And that's exactly what I did. After they didn't respond to me saying it once, and kept talking (as all young people with hopes and dreams should), I said it louder. I did that dick thing where I said it staring at Lawson, but clearly said it to them. “WE REALLY NEED TO BE JUST THE THREE OF US RIGHT NOW, SO WE CAN FIGURE THIS OUT.”

At which point – after about two seconds of awkward silence and me not looking at them – Lawson politely asked them if we could have a few minutes alone, to work on our set (why that more humane option didn't occur to me, I'm not sure).

I didn't watch them walk away or anything, but I presume it looked something like this. 

So that was the dick thing I did over the weekend. I'll finish this story, and this point (and tell you how the set went!!) in Part 2. 

 Yeah, that's right. I'm doing multiple-part blogs now. I'M A FUCKING WRITER.

(I've really got to stop cursing so much. Sorry mom)

How to Have Good Things Happen to You. (Do Them Yourself)

Time is weird.  I was getting really annoyed with how hot it was yesterday.  And I had a thought like “Why is it this hot already!?” -- like, why am I sweating in my jeans when it’s still winter?

Then I realized I’d forgotten to update my brain’s “The Month It Feels Like” app.  And so somehow, it’s just kind of felt like February for the past 3 months.

Well, it’s not February anymore.  We’re a week from June.

June, I said.  As in, the 6th month of the year.  As in, the year is almost half over.  This year - the one that just started - is roughly half gone.

It’s tempting to feel like I haven’t accomplished anything this year.  But honestly, I don’t think that’s true. I’ve written some blogs.  I’ve done a lot of open-mics.  I’ve done a few really fun shows.  I worked my butt off prepping for my Montreal audition, and I was thrilled with how it went.  I’ve been willing to bomb a lot of times, and as a result, I’ve come up with a lot of material.

And probably most notably, I agreed to perform the material I’ve written this past year - and to record the shows - at the Under St. Marks Theater, here in New York, on June 8-9.

But there’s more than that.

In addition to the stand-up that I’m doing here in New York, I’m starting to get involved in other stuff.  I’ve started writing sketches.  I’ve been working through my fears and inhibitions about writing a book.  I’ve been doing podcasts with people.

And I’ve started being a regular guest on a radio show.  It’s an internet radio show, and it’s hosted by Lawson Leong, a fellow comic here in NYC.  I was supposed to be a one-time guest, but when I came on, we had a blast.  So he had me back.  And I just finished up my third visit.  And I’ll be on again next Wednesday, May 30th.

Like I said, it’s an internet radio show.  So it’s not the type of sexy “break” that people imagine, when they dream of “making it” in New York.

But honestly, it might be better.  Because it’s the best type of New York story:  Lawson’s a young dude - 22, I think - and he lives with his family, in Brooklyn.  He’s been doing comedy for a few years, and he really wanted something cool to happen.  But on some random day, he just kind of realized, “Wait a second.  I don’t need to wait for permission do something cool.”

This may be a statue of Lawson, not actually him.  But you get the idea.

He liked Opie and Anthony growing up, and he loved when comics would come on and be willing to discuss controversial topics.  And he loved doing the same thing himself.  So he googled some shit (I’m guessing here), signed up for an account on blogtalkradio.com, and just started to figure it out as he went.  And humbly, in front of a crowd of no one, “Human Sacrifice Radio” was born.

Maybe it didn’t feel that cool to him.  But all of a sudden - to people that aren’t him, like me - it does seem pretty damn cool.  He has a radio show.  He does 3 a week.  He talks shit out, he rants, he laughs.  He’s doing something.  Producing something.

I’ve probably had a good time as a guest because our life philosophies overlap so much.  We both want to understand things.  We love getting past the knee-jerk reactions we have toward things, and really trying to dissect stuff.

I have no idea how many people listen to it.  Maybe 500.  Or maybe it’s just my mom (she’s already commented on my first two shows - she really enjoyed our 45-minute discussion about when sex with 15 year-olds is morally okay).

But I’m not really worried about getting famous off Lawson’s show.  It’s just awesome that I’ve found something fun and cool to be a part of.  And that I’ve crossed paths with someone who has both a desire to do cool things, and is willing to just shut up and do something, without worrying how it will make them look.

That’s what almost all “cool things” are, by the way:  they’re things that are only cool to the people on the outside.  If you - you, the person reading right now - were to start something...I can almost guarantee it won’t seem cool to you.  If you start a blog, or you write a web series, start an internet radio show - it’s not going to be sexy.  It’s not going to be “cool.”

To you, it won’t.  But that’s because we’re taught that cool things should just be cool.  Cool things shouldn’t require lots of work.  Cool things shouldn’t be a struggle.  Cool things shouldn’t not-be-fun sometimes.  Cool shouldn’t have to try.  Cool things should just be...cool. 


Well, they’re not.  Cool things are lame.  It would have been easy for Lawson to be like “An internet radio show?  That’s not cool - you don’t even need permission to do that.  Anyone can do it.  People would laugh at me.  Forget it.”  But instead, he got over his stupid pride - which was creating stupid fears - and just decided to do what he wanted to.  So now he has his own radio show.  And I get to be on it with him sometimes.

I think that’s pretty damn cool.

Today’s episode starts with us trying to responsibly discuss the merits of marijuana laws, before we fall off the tracks and end up defending children who are racist.  Here it is:

Listen to internet radio with Lawsoncomic89 on Blog Talk Radio

And if you enjoy that, you can check out the first two episodes I was on:

Monday, May 14:  We discuss how great it is to be white, whether Carlin and Pryor were overrated, and I jerk off to the thought of Patrice O’Neal.

Wednesday, May 16:  We debate whether it’s morally that big a deal to have sex with a 15 year-old.  Lawson’s 18 year-old sister co-hosts.  (Seriously)