Girl on Guy with Aisha Tyler #7: Paul F. Tompkins

Paul F. Tompkins: How do you separate that feeling of rejection as an artist from you as a person? Its like, “Well no, they don’t like me or what I do.”

Aisha Tyler: Yes, both. Did you have a point where… Cause I remember vividly having a couple of points where I was like, “Why do I do this?”

PFT: Oh, very recently. I just came out of it where I was at a really bad point, and even some good things were happening and I couldn’t see it.

AT: You can’t even feel that.

PFT: I was able to turn it into a negative, “Yeah, but its not… this, you know?” And ‘this’ hasn’t happened yet. And you know all that kind of thing.

Girl on Guy with Aisha Tyler #7: Paul F. Tompkins / 8/30/11

The A.V. Club Toronto Interview: Kyle Kinane

AVC: Do you find your act has changed dramatically since you started?

Kyle Kinane: Oh for sure, man. Everything’s got to grow if you’re a human being. I was doing one-liner stuff when I started, because when you start at an open mic you only have five minutes so you’ve got to get as many jokes as you can in there. Now, everybody’s like, “Oh, you’re a storyteller.” No, I ... just got thrown into headlining earlier than maybe I was ready. Suddenly, I had to do 45 minutes, so I was like, “All right, well I’m going to draw out some of these jokes into full stories.” I think they’re working, but with some of them it’s like, “Wow, you’re just talking out of your ass with that thing.” You definitely get to dive into stuff with the storytelling. But if somebody doesn’t like something two minutes in, it’s like, “All right, well this is a 12-minute-long story. If you don’t like it now, who knows if you’ll like it in 10 minutes.” It’s not everybody’s cup of tea, but nothing should be everybody’s cup of tea.

The A.V. Club Toronto Interview: Kyle Kinane / By Phil Brown December 8, 2011

CNN LARRY KING LIVE / Interview With Roseanne Barr

Larry King: Tough audience?

Roseanne Barr: No, they were just awesome. It's funny how I did it because I had stage fright to do stand-up, so I put in a — in order to like force myself to do stand-up I put in a part of my act where I take my clothes off because I'm like, "If you think this is bad, wait until you take your clothes off." That's how I kind of like tricked myself over my fear and stuff plus meditation.

But then after the taking your clothes off, I come out and I say, I say "Dancing in my underwear is nothing compared to the fear of singing in public, which I'm about to overcome now." So, it's like I have to trick myself to do stand-up. I have to like do my other worst fears, dancing in my underwear and singing a song but I don't know why it works.

LK: You're still a little nuts right?

RB: Yes, I know I am but you could get your mental illness and stuff to work for you. You could actually direct it and get it to work for you.

LK: That's right, take it and let it -- use it you can...

RB: Yes, because I do have a lot of fear of people and being in public and, you know, I have a lot of fear period but I just like try to always overcome my fear and for some reason that works for me.

CNN LARRY KING LIVE / Interview With Roseanne Barr / Aired March 2, 2006 - 21:00 ET

Dean & Me (A Love Story)

Nobody, I swear, ever had it in his bones like Dean (Martin) had. My dad used to agree with me. Danny Lewis worked with strait men all through his career. Good ones. But nobody could touch Dean.

George Burns saw us at the Sands in the mid-fifties, and said to me over dinner one night, "He's the greatest strait man I've ever seen."

George Burns! Who lived through all the two-acts—Smith and Dale. Olsen and Johnson. Gallager and Shean.

Not to mention Burns and Allen.

George used to tell the classic self-deprecating joke about strait men—namely, that all you really had to do to hold up your end was repeat what the comic said. If the comic says, "I lost my shoes," you say, "You lost your shoes?" George joked, "It's terrible, because I was at the beach, and there was a kid in the water yelling 'help-help-help', and I yelled 'help-help-help?' And by the time I got to him, he drowned."

George was so much better than that, of course. And George thought Dean was the greatest of them all.

—Jerry Lewis

Dean & Me (A Love Story) / by Jerry Lewis / Copyright 2005 / page 43

The A.V. Club Interview: Conan O'Brien

Nathan Rabin: You also were an entertainer at a 7-year-old's birthday party at least once. Care to elaborate on that?

Conan O'Brien: It was horrible. Bombed. Completely bombed. Those kids were assholes. They didn't know quality when they saw it. A friend of mine and I who was a fellow improviser, a guy I knew at the Groundlings Theatre, he came to me, he said, "Hey, I got this gig to entertain at a kid's party, and they're paying, and it's cash, man." It sounded like a drug deal. "It's cash, and they want us to go there. We got to work fast." So we went there and we had guitars and pranced around. It was classic. The kids were like Easter Island statues. They just stared at us. I think the mom who had hired us was just like, "What is this crap?" We were doing weird characters and stuff. I think we got paid, but it was one of those things where they pay you grudgingly. You almost wish they didn't pay you. They really despise you. Not good. People say all experience is good—not true. That was a complete waste of time, and humiliating. If I could get into a time machine, I wouldn't use it to save Abraham Lincoln's wife, or cure polio a little earlier. I'd use it to wipe out that birthday.

The A.V. Club Interview: Conan O'Brien / By Nathan Rabin / August 30, 2006

Julia Louis-Dreyfus: From 'Seinfeld' To 'Veep'

Dave Davies: But I gather ‘the ball’ wasn’t so much fun for you? (referring to being a cast member on Saturday Night Live at age 21)

Julia Louis-Dreyfus: Yeah, it wasn’t that great.

DD: Why not?

JLD: Well, I was very young. Okay, and I was very, very naïve. And I was coming from college and doing theater work with my friends and we would all work really hard as an ensemble to make the best possible show so there was a sort of an earnestness that I took with me to doing SNL that really had no place. I didn’t understand the politics and the dynamics of the show. I also went in thinking that I would just work with writers and you know, you just sort of… I didn’t go in with characters that I had worked and worked and worked on. I was not a writer myself. I was somewhat unprepared. Larry David was there my third year… he was a writer on that show for my last year and it was his only year. And we became friends during that period of time and we sort of… he was miserable. He didn’t get a single sketch on… he did get one sketch on but it was cut between dress and air. And so we sort of bonded in misery and there you go.

DE: And that’s what led to Seinfeld, right?

JLD: Yeah, pretty much. I mean there was a period of time in between, but yeah, it did.

Julia Louis-Dreyfus: From 'Seinfeld' To 'Veep' / NPR Fresh Air Weekend / Interview by Dave Davies / May 5, 2012

Woody Allen Explains Why Annie Hall And Hannah And Her Sisters Were Disappointments

Eric Eisenberg: With all the films that you’ve directed, produced, written and starred in, and all the nominations and awards you’ve received, is there one film that’s the most memorable for you?

Woody Allen: When you make the film, it’s like a chef who works on the meal. After you’re working all day in the kitchen, dicing and cutting and putting the sauces on, you don’t want to eat it. That’s how I always feel about the films. I work on it for a year. I’ve written it, I’ve worked with the actors, I’ve edited it and put the music in, and I just never want to see it again. When I begin a film, I always think that I’m going to make The Bicycle Thief or Grand Illusion or Citizen Kane, and I’m convinced that it’s going to be the greatest thing to ever hit celluloid. And then, when I see what I’ve done afterward, I pray that it’s not an embarrassment to me. I’ve never been satisfied or even pleased with a film that I’ve done. I make them, but I’ve never looked at one after.

I made my first film in 1968, and I’ve never seen it since. I just cringe when I see them. I don’t like them ‘cause there’s a big gap between what you conceive in your mind when you’re writing and having to meet the test of reality. You write and it’s funny and beautiful and romantic and dramatic, and then you have to show up on a cold morning, and the actors are there and you’re there, and you don’t have enough of this and this goes wrong and you make the wrong choice on something and you screw up here. When you see what you get the next day, you can’t go back. There’s such a difference between the idealized film in your mind and what you wind up with that you’re never happy and you’re never satisfied. For me, I’ve never liked any of my films. I’m always thankful that the audience has liked some of them, in spite of my disappointment.

Woody Allen Explains Why Annie Hall And Hannah And Her Sisters Were Disappointments / by Eric Eisenberg / cinemablend.com / June 22, 2012

The A.V. Club Toronto Interview: Ari Shaffir

Phil Brown: Was your comedy always so dark?

Ari Shaffir: Well, at first I wasn’t anywhere near that line. For the first while, you’re just doing an impression of a stand up comic. So I would do like Monica Lewinsky jokes and stuff like that. It was so bad. But over time everyone realizes their potential, and you start talking about the things you want to talk about. I was so religious for a while that I started making fun of it. I don’t care about things like race or religion, so I started mocking how everyone else cares about them.

PB: Do you think that to be a comedian who deals with your type of subject matter, you should be upsetting some of the audience?

AS: No, I don’t want to upset anybody. There are a few types of people who do those sorts of jokes. There are the people who are like, “Hey, I’m about to shock you or say something so disgusting that you won’t believe it!” Or there’s another type like Jimmy Norton, or the type of humor I do, where we don’t mean to be offensive to anyone, that’s just the way we think. Like, I’ve had thoughts about murdering a girl who I got pregnant while she’s deciding whether or not to have an abortion. I know that’s bad to do or even think about, but nevertheless those thoughts are there, so I’m going to share them with you. I think having children would be just horrible, and the worst punishment in life, and people get angry with me when I say that. I’m not trying to get you upset, I’m just expressing how I feel about it. I prefer that kind of nasty humor where the comics just can’t help it.

The A.V. Club Toronto Interview: Ari Shaffir / by Phil Brown / March 21, 2012

The Comedy Couch: DON RICKLES

Guy MacPherson: Even though the insults seem to the untrained ear scattershot, there is a philosophy behind a successful insult, isn't there?

Don Rickles: Well, I believe so because it shows my heart and soul. It's really not an insult. They gave it the word insult. Milton Berle gave me that many, many years ago and it always stuck with me. But it's not insult. Let me put it to you this way: I'm the guy that makes fun of the boss at the Christmas party on Friday night and Monday still has his job. It's never mean-spirited. And it's a matter of exaggerating people and things around us. My father had that gift, but he was an insurance man and never became a comedian. But when you see me perform you'll understand that my heart's in the right place. I've never had, to my knowledge, anybody — in my beginnings, oh sure — but today anybody that comes to see me... When you're selling yourself, Guy, you can't always win. But today, the majority of people that see me know after my performance where I come from.

GM: Were any of your jabs ever taken the wrong way by a celebrity?

DR: I'm sure somebody has. As I said, when you stand on the stage and you sell yourself, not everybody's going to love you. When you're an insurance man and you sell insurance, not everybody's always going to buy your policy. Because a lot of it has to do with selling yourself. And so there's somebody, as soon as I walk on the stage, who'll say, "I don't like this guy." I'm sure somebody in the world didn't love Bob Hope, although I can't see how that could happen. But with the style I do, I'm sure there's somebody that says, "I'm not crazy about him." But thank God the majority is on my side.

The Comedy Couch: DON RICKLES / by Guy MacPherson / October 6, 2006

The Comedy Corner: Tom Segura

Andrew Wantuck: In your opinion, what takes a good stand-up comedian to the level of great stand-up comedian?

Tom Segura: I think that the great ones all have really defined perspectives. And they are vulnerable to a degree, because if you're not vulnerable, you'll never get to a 'great' level. You can be really good, but you won't be considered great. All the legendary guys have really clear perspective, and I feel like to some degree, open up a lot. I think you have to do that. You also have to OD at least once. And I feel like I got one of those things down.

AW: So then my question to you would be, assuming that you want to get to the level of great, how then are you able to become vulnerable then. What would make Tom Segura vulnerable?

TS: That's a good question. The thing about stand-up is if you really want to learn, you can learn stuff all the time, and I try to do that and I try to find the things I resist talking about, and try to write jokes about it, and the longer I've done it, I've gotten better and better at that. So, I think it's a learning process. But I don't think I would make the equation that I must talk about my family in order to be a great comic. I don't think the family has to be the variable, but I do think you have to be vulnerable, and that doesn't necessarily mean family, it just means you have to be open, and you have to put yourself out there to be really good. And I'm always working towards that, I don't think I've achieved it, but I work towards it.

The Comedy Corner: Tom Segura / The Comedy & Magic Club / by Andrew Wantuck / 7/21/2009

Bobcat Goldthwait Interview

Christopher Baker: Is it tough to stay grounded when you’re now living in Los Angeles?

Bobcat Goldthwait: LA is a funny place. My daughter went to a very private school in LA and people always ask me, “Was she treated differently because you’re in show business?” But in LA, being Bobcat Goldthwait’s daughter is not a big deal at all. The other kids would be like {in a snotty kid’s voice}, “Oh, Bobcat Goldthwait’s your dad? My dad canceled his show.” Everybody is somebody there.

There’s this funny thing that country music stars do the most. They say {in a mocking twangy, country singer voice}, “You know I just try to keep it real and I just live here in this small town and I don’t go to Holly-weird.” But if you’re in show business, Los Angeles is the most humbling place on the planet. It doesn’t matter who you are; you’re just another guy that works in show business. When you refuse to sell out and live in a small town, you’re the biggest guy there.

Bobcat Goldthwait Interview / by Christopher Baker / Wednesday, April 25,2012 / Syracuse New Times

Judd Apatow: interview

Tom Huddleston: Were ‘The 40-Year-Old Virgin’ and ‘Knocked Up’ reacting against the laziness of comedy writing in Hollywood?

Judd Apatow: I was just doing what I learned on “The Larry Sanders Show”, which is write about what you care about and be as truthful as you can. I try to make sure that whatever I do, even if it’s a really silly comedy, the people making it are obsessed with it. And it’s opened the door for a lot of people who would not otherwise be allowed to make movies.

I always hated it when people said that the stars of TV and movies should be handsome, popular guys. The history of comedy is full of guys like Buster Keaton and Jerry Lewis. Who wants to watch a handsome guy who’s smart? There’s nothing funny in that.

Judd Apatow: interview / by Tom Huddleston / Time Out London

Kurt Vonnegut, The Art of Fiction No. 64

Kurt Vonnegut: Slapstick may be a very bad book. I am perfectly willing to believe that. Everybody else writes lousy books, so why shouldn’t I? What was unusual about the reviews was that they wanted people to admit now that I had never been any good. The reviewer for the SundayTimes actually asked critics who had praised me in the past to now admit in public how wrong they’d been. My publisher, Sam Lawrence, tried to comfort me by saying that authors were invariably attacked when they became fabulously well-to-do.The Paris Review: You needed comforting?

KV: I never felt worse in my life. I felt as though I were sleeping standing up on a boxcar in Germany again.

TPR: That bad?

KV: No. But bad enough. All of a sudden, critics wanted me squashed like a bug. And it wasn’t just that I had money all of a sudden, either. The hidden complaint was that I was barbarous, that I wrote without having made a systematic study of great literature, that I was no gentleman, since I had done hack writing so cheerfully for vulgar magazines—that I had not paid my academic dues.

TPR: You had not suffered?

KV: I had suffered, all right—but as a badly educated person in vulgar company and in a vulgar trade. It was dishonorable enough that I perverted art for money. I then topped that felony by becoming, as I say, fabulously well-to-do. Well, that’s just too damn bad for me and for everybody. I’m completely in print, so we’re all stuck with me and stuck with my books.

TPR: Do you mean to fight back?

KV: In a way. I’m on the New York State Council for the Arts now, and every so often some other member talks about sending notices to college English departments about some literary opportunity, and I say, “Send them to the chemistry departments, send them to the zoology departments, send them to the anthropology departments and the astronomy departments and physics departments, and all the medical and law schools. That’s where the writers are most likely to be.”

TPR: You believe that?

KV: I think it can be tremendously refreshing if a creator of literature has something on his mind other than the history of literature so far. Literature should not disappear up its own asshole, so to speak.

Kurt Vonnegut, The Art of Fiction No. 64 / Interviewed by David Hayman, David Michaelis, George Plimpton, Richard Rhodes / The Paris Review

Standup in Stilettos’ Christina Pazsitzky on Emasculating Hecklers

Joel Warner and Peter McGraw: What are the biggest misconceptions about what you do?

Christina Pazsitzky: That it’s easy. Everyone thinks they can be a comedian but they don’t know there’s a vast difference between telling a joke to your buddies and getting onstage in front of a ton of people. It’s a skill like any other. Just like a carpenter, it takes years to hone your craft and get good. For some reason, people feel challenged and threatened by what we do. That’s why they yell out and heckle during a show. Yet they wouldn’t yell out at a theater performance. Why? Because they feel they can do what you do as a comic — and they’re usually hammered.

Standup in Stilettos’ Christina Pazsitzky on Emasculating Hecklers / wired.com / By Joel Warner and Peter McGraw / June 14, 2012

The A.V. Club Interview: Seth Rogan

Scott Tobias: Have you ever had to perform in a hostile or unpromising environment?

Seth Rogan: Yeah, definitely a bunch of times. I did four months in this bar in Whistler [British Columbia]. And it was just terrible. Oh my God, it was just so brutal. But I didn't really care sometimes. Sometimes, you just get in this mentality of "Fuck you, this is funny. If you don't think so, you're the asshole." I remember my first time ever doing stand-up in L.A., I went up at the Improv. All I remember is that I could hear the buzzing noise the speakers were making, the power coming through the speakers. I remember thinking as I was doing the jokes, "If I can hear that very clearly, I'm not hearing laughter." It just became deafening, this buzzing noise. I mean, it was brutal. It was really terrible. Then I remember thinking, "At least nobody important, or anyone who I really respect, saw that." And then literally right when I went off the stage, Jerry Seinfeld got up and went on. [Laughs.] So I was like, "Oh great. Seinfeld saw me bomb." On the other hand, I thought, "At least no one will be thinking of me anymore. They'll just be focusing on him."

SR: Have you always been able to scrape together a living in show business? Did you skip the part where you work a lot of odd jobs to make ends meet?

ST: Yeah, I've never really had a real job. When I was young doing stand-up, I'd get 50 bucks a week here or 100 bucks a week there. You know, sometimes for headlining one of the rooms, or MC-ing, or something like that. So yeah, I've never had like a normal job.

The A.V. Club Interview: Seth Rogan / By Scott Tobias May 31, 2007

Girl on Guy with Aisha Tyler #7: Paul F. Tompkins

Paul F. Tompkins: But the other day I was… cause this stuff weighs on me and uh, you know… And the other day I was reminded of the old poem of Ozymandius. You know, “Look on my works you mighty and despair…” Okay, lets say I am able to somehow… one of my CDs is listened to by someone 100 years from now. And let’s say 200 years from now, somehow that recording still exists. 1000 years? Will anybody have any idea who I am? Not really. So what… I gotta stop worrying about that. I kind of have to let it go. Because its never… there’s no such thing as forever. There’s no such thing as forever.

Aisha Tyler: No, there really isn’t. Well that’s very Buddist of you. And I also think that the acceptance of the concept of impermanence can free you as an artist to just do shit that you’re excited about rather than considering how its going to be viewed days and years hence.

PFT: What is better… and it always gets back to live performance for me. What is better than those moments where you’re on stage and there’s… something happens that is unique to that night, that place, that audience that will never happen again. And everybody knows that. Everybody knows that. And that’s part of the magic… that’s the magic of it. And really, if those are the best things, that’s really what life is, you know. It that you’re here for a little bit, you know, you get a little bit and then its gone, and you got to really be as happy as possible.

Girl on Guy with Aisha Tyler #7: Paul F. Tompkins / 8/30/11

Bill Murray: The ESQ+A

Scott Raab: Did you ever want to be a stand-up?

Bill Murray: No. I saw them work, and they seemed so unhappy. If an audience didn't like them, they'd get so miserable about it. It looked too miserable. I did it once and it was fun. But I only had to do it once to realize I could do it, but I don't want to do it. I've done it a little bit lately — I'll emcee a concert, something like that.

SR: It's no surprise you can do it. You're Bill Murray.

BM: But you still have to be funny. If you're not funny, then it's "Guess who's not funny?"

SR: Bill Murray.

BM: "Hey, I'll tell you who's not funny. That guy." I don't wanna die at this point.

Bill Murray: The ESQ+A / by Scott Raab / May 23, 2012

Interview: Craig Ferguson

Guy Macpherson: What about writing this monologue? Is there a lot of pressure every day to come up with something new?

Craig Ferguson: That's the meeting I've just come from. Yeah, there's a horrible amount of pressure every day to do it. It kind of hangs over you every day. But at the same time it's the challenge of every day. I mean, it's a real thrill when it's right. When it doesn't quite come off, I think it's still good to do because at least we had a crack at it (laughs), you know what I mean? When it doesn't quite work, it's one of those rare things in American television that you can actually see someone fall flat on their ass. And it's not edited out. I think you take all the fun out of stuff when you don't see things fall on their ass. Johnny [Carson] never cut out stuff that didn't work. He would do it.

GM: It almost seemed like he would purposely put in stuff that didn't work.

CF: Peter Lassally, my producer, was with Johnny for 30 years. And I asked him if Johnny put stuff that wouldn't work, because I thought the same, and he said, "No, he never, ever did." It was always (laughs) just annoying... Not annoying, but he just turned a sow's ear into a silk purse.

GM: And it humanizes the host, too.

CF: I think so. I think it allows... I don't need people to think that everything that comes out of my mouth is the funniest thing that's ever been said by a bunch of crack writers in Hollywood. There's a kind of distance that that creates between the host and the audience, which I don't think you really need.

GM: And you're charming enough to get away with it and quick enough on your feet to come up with something if you do tank.

CF: You have to be. That's the one thing. You better be fast. Because if something dies, you better cop to it and think of something quickly.

GM: How much of it is spontaneous?

CF: It changes from night to night. Some nights 90 percent; some nights, you know, 40 percent.

Interview: Craig Ferguson / The Comedy Couch / June 16, 2006

The A.V. Club Toronto Interview: Demetri Martin

Steve Heisler: It seems what they mean is “highbrow.” (describing Demetri Martin's Stand-Up Comedy)

Demetri Martin: Well, yeah, and I think most of the time I’ve seen anything about my material being cerebral, it’s not pejorative, it like seems pretty positive. But I’m used to coming up in stand-up and that being somehow like a liability. So it’s weird. It’s like being called an “alternative” comedian—that somehow is disparaging to say. And you’re thinking “Okay, yeah, sure, alternative, whatever. I’ll take whatever the label is.” I think in the end—I’ve said this before in some other interview, and I’ve kind of lost track of the press stuff now—I can’t respond to it, it’s too weird. If I read stuff, there’s no response, I can’t do anything, so I guess I shouldn’t engage. 

But I will say—and I don’t know if this is printed anywhere—I think comedy is very subjective. I think from person to person, it varies a great deal, and even within a person, your tastes can change. So it’s a really kind of moving, malleable, subjective thing. At the same time, when you do comedy, that night, in that moment, it’s very objective as to whether it’s funny or not to that group of people. So you have objective moments born out of subjective little pieces, kind of piled together, to give you an objective feeling. Do you know what I’m saying? I’m having trouble articulating it today, but that’s what I realized is one of the very interesting things about it for me. Tastes vary so much, yet when a person thinks something is funny, it’s like…

SH: It’s a binary response.

DM: Yeah. It’s on or off. They’re objectively, “That’s funny. That’s not funny.” But that doesn’t make it the objective final word on whether something is funny or not. The best you can do, I guess, is just keep generating and pay attention to things that work. Because my best material—the best I can say about it is that it’s kind of like a probabilistic statement. “Yeah, so far, that joke has worked. I don’t really know if it’s going to work tonight, but you know, I did it a hundred times and it worked 90 times, so that one works pretty well. This joke worked 20 times out of a hundred, but it should work tonight. But it’s less likely to.” You know what I mean? It’s so not definite, yet that moment that I tell a joke, it is so clearly definite, “That was funny right now,” or “That was not.” 

So the cerebral thing, or like the smart comedy, or brain comedy, I guess it’s just nice to get any press, and to get noticed. I do come across people who don’t like me, don’t like my comedy, don’t think it’s funny, it’s too cutesy, or whatever they hate. And it’s like “Okay. That’s your opinion. Somebody liked it, so that’s good.” Hopefully it balances out.

The A.V. Club Toronto Interview: Demetri Martin / February 25, 2009

Interview with Eric Myers

Chris White: You come from an artistic background -- both your parents are artists, right? Do you consider stand-up comedy to be an art?

Eric Myers: Not only do I know comedy is an art but I think it is the most underrated art. People don't and will never understand how hard it is unless they do it. Yes, being funny is no different from writing a hit song. If you wrote a romantic song you would use romantic melodies and words that would paint that kind of picture. When you write a joke you need silly words and outrageous or comical imagery to get people to be in that silly mood. Laughter comes from a childlike place. When you’re laughing hysterically, it's like you are totally letting your guard down, which is the hardest thing for people to do. We all have our guard up all day so we don't get hurt or look silly, and to lose yourself in laughter is like totally letting go. It's the most real moment.

You can't force or fake hysterical laughter, so in order to get people to let their guard down, you have to charm a crowd and make them love you and feel safe with you. If they’re gonna come with you on a journey, they have to trust you’re not gonna lead them too far down a path where they won't get a treat -- the punchline. You act onstage, you paint pictures with your words, you dance with your movements, you sculpt ideas, you make rhythms with your cadence and tones, when you use different emphasis on a setup or a punchline it's like when the music picks up between a verse and a chorus. You are the ultimate artist, and to make people like you is the ultimate subconscious goal. We all wanna be accepted. When you make people laugh, they are saying “we love you we accept you” and it gives you a power. I think making people like you is how you are gonna get anywhere in life. It's like the ultimate art form.

I have so much love for people that come out and see me and tell me, “oh I love this joke or that joke.” It makes me almost want to cry when I can feel a connection with people. It's such a beautiful thing. I have been told I'm not the easiest person to talk to, but I talk with my comedy. That's how I express myself, and if people dig my comedy I feel like they understand me and we have a bond. Having people connect with your art and believe in you, having fans, is so awesome words can't express it. It makes my heart blow up like a balloon.

Interview with Eric Myers / dcstandup.com

Girl on Guy with Aisha Tyler #38: Jimmy Pardo

Aisha Tyler: You didn’t want it (a gig for a commercial/host gig that was auditioned for)…

Jimmy Pardo: You didn’t want me for that!

AT: That’s the thing. I didn’t want this job but the fact that I didn’t get it…? What the fuck? I’m too good for them!

JP: That’s how I really was for commercials too. I hated… the day that I stopped auditioning for commercials was the greatest day of my showbiz career because I just… white-knuckled across the city from one place to another to try to get a commercial. “You know, but if you score one, you make a million dollars.” Yeah, but I never fuckin’ did! So now I’m just driving myself crazy.

AT: It’s miserable. It’s literally like auditioning to be like a sex worker. Like you walk in and they’re like, “Turn to the left, turn to the right, nah, go, next!”

JP: And they know right then and there….

AT: “Chew. We’d like to see you chew. We don’t like the way you chewed. We don’t like your jaw motion. Get out.”

JP: One of my very last auditions for a commercial… it was to wave. You know, do your line then give a little wave. And, you know, “Make it your own!”

AT: I like your wave that you just did right now.

JP: Well, that’s the wave I did. And they went, “Ah, you know what, that’s not the wave we’re looking for.” I go, “How about this one? Bye-Bye.” And I walked out. That was my last commercial audition. I couldn’t… my ‘wave’ is wrong? Fuck you.

Girl on Guy with Aisha Tyler #38: Jimmy Pardo / 3/13/12 / aprox 1:11:00

Dean & Me (A Love Story)

But we weren’t leaving anything to chance, either. Forty years earlier, when the great W.C. Fields had played Atlantic City as a young juggler, he’d come up with a publicity stunt known as “the drowning gag”. My dad told me about it, I told Dean (Martin), and we brought it back. When the beach was good and crowded, I’d wade out into the surf up to my chest, then suddenly start waving my arms and yelling in distress. Dean would splash out, drag me back to shore, throw me down on the sand, apparently comatose, and act like he was about to administer mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. By this time, we’d have a nice crowd around us. But before he’d begin, I’d sit bolt upright and say, “I’d rather have a malted, sir!”

“We’re fresh out,” Dean would say, smooth as silk. Then: “Hey, don’t I know you?”

“I’m Jerry Lewis!”

“And I’m Dean Martin!”

“I know that—I’m at the 500 Club with you, first show is at eight o’clock!”
And we’d jump up and run like madmen, all the way back to the Princess Hotel.

—Jerry Lewis

Dean & Me (A Love Story) / by Jerry Lewis / Copyright 2005 / page 45-46

The Joe Rogan Experience #178

Joey Diaz: But that Comedy Store… I ran into so many crazy, fuckin’ women…

Joe Rogan: Men too, man. Men, women, everything. That Store was a, it was an attractor, and it still is an attractor of crazy people.

JD: But when a woman comes up to you and says, “Can I talk to you for a second? You know, how do get funny? You know, I just want to be funny, and they won’t give me spots. What do I have to do to get spots here?” That’s the magic answer. When they just say that to you, “What do I need to do to get spots?” You try to beat around the bush, “Well, uh, you could write jokes, uh, you could go to a stand-up class, or you could suck my dick.” (laughing) You know what I’m saying? You got three options…

JR: (laughing) Is that what you said?

JD: Oh my god, its amazing!

JR: Well you had the one girl, you talk about her in the podcast. You sent a message, a letter, about how you broke her…

JD: Oh, broke her. And I didn’t mean to break her. She was always willing to suck my dick so… I remember her sucking my dick with dirty fingernails on night. And me going ‘this is terrible’. And this… in that little bathroom, the cubicle on the second floor. Remember the one by the phone, where you answer the phone?

JR: Yeah, totally.

JD: How many fucking blow jobs did you get in there from women who said, “If I just suck
your dick, will you put be on in the Belly Room show with you next week?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, call me.”

And they’ll just suck your dick for a fuckin’ spot. Like in The Belly Room. Like fuckin’ Steven Soderberg is going to show up…

----------

JD: I started going to an acting class. And you book something, and a girl sees you in acting class? Oh my god, they’re all over ya outside. “What do I need to do?”

“You need to start sucking my dick, or show me your pussy, or something.” You know how many fucking victims I had that were confused from acting class? Bro, when I was 415 pounds, like in ’98, I had this 21 year old who let me come over and fuck her in the ass. And I would fuck her in the ass and feel guilty, like, when is she going to realize I’m a fat, disgusting slob? This chick was like, “I seen you on Law & Order SUV taking the garbage out, let me suck your dick.”

“Really?” I’m a fuckin’ co-star. You know what I’m saying? You gotta hold out for the big fuckin’ stars. She was sucking co-star dick. What is wrong with you? What is wrong with you? I got twelve-hundred for the fuckin’ day and you’re suckin’ my dick like I’m some star.

The Joe Rogan Experience #178 / aprox. 2:02:00

The A.V. Club Toronto Interview: Kyle Kinane

AVC: Does bombing still bother you as much these days, or is it almost funny now that you have the career and confidence to know that’s not the universal reaction?

Kyle Kinane: If it’s my fault, because I’m not committing to the story and thinking about other stuff, then I’m pissed off because I’m not fulfilling my end of things. But I mean, last night I did a show with like eight people there, so it’s like, “All right, I guess I’m going to sit here and have a conversation.” Three people sat there forcefully not enjoying themselves. I mean, fuck it; leave. I’m not going to pander. I’m already trying to make the best of an awkward situation. So if you’re going to sit there with your arms folded not having fun, you can go fuck yourself. You have the freedom to choose what to do with your evening. If you’re going to sit there and be pouty with me, I’m just going to ignore you and talk to the people who are at least trying to have a good time. So I didn’t feel bad about that. I felt bad about the fact that there are people in the world that suck.

AVC: Did you address those three people to try and get them involved?

Kyle Kinane: I tried to talk with them for a minute and engage with them. I mean, I wasn’t going to be using a microphone with eight people. I tried to treat it like we were hanging out, but they had this attitude. They were just fucking dickheads. Whatever man. I mean they sat there, what more could I want out of them? If you’re just going to sit there with your feet up acting superior, I got your fucking money, do what you gotta do.

The A.V. Club Toronto Interview: Kyle Kinane / By Phil Brown December 8, 2011

Everybody Loves Rodney!

''Man, I've been depressed ALL my life,'' he (Rodney Dangerfield) says with a growling sigh. ''See that kid on the pony in the picture there in the book?'' he asks, referring to a childhood photo reproduced in his memoir. ''Is that a happy face? Kid is sitting there worried, man, worried.'' In the book, Rodney is tough on his absentee father, a vaudevillian ladies' man (''I feel awkward referring to my father as 'Dad'''), and his ''coldhearted and selfish'' mother.

But again, doesn't going out and killing a room help make up for all that?

''When you're a kid and you're breaking in and you start making 'em laugh, you feel good, hey, you're doing good now, you know?'' he counters. ''After you've done 5,000 shows, it gets difficult to feel good, you know what I mean? It's your 'job' to make 'em laugh.''

Everybody Loves Rodney! / By Gregory Kirschling / ew.com / May 28, 2004

One Professor’s Attempt to Explain Every Joke Ever

Peter McGraw and Caleb Warren, a doctoral student, presented their elegantly simple formulation in the August 2010 issue of the journal Psychological Science. Their paper, “Benign Violations: Making Immoral Behavior Funny,” cited scores of philosophers, psychologists, and neuroscientists (as well as Mel Brooks and Carol Burnett). The theory they lay out: “Laughter and amusement result from violations that are simultaneously seen as benign.” That is, they perceive a violation—”of personal dignity (e.g., slapstick, physical deformities), linguistic norms (e.g., unusual accents, malapropisms), social norms (e.g., eating from a sterile bedpan, strange behaviors), and even moral norms (e.g., bestiality, disrespectful behaviors)”—while simultaneously recognizing that the violation doesn’t pose a threat to them or their worldview. The theory is ludicrously, vaporously simple. But extensive field tests revealed nuances, variables that determined exactly how funny a joke was perceived to be.

McGraw had his HuRL team present scenarios to hundreds of CU-Boulder students. (Some were bribed with candy bars to participate.) Multiple versions of scenarios were formulated, a few too anodyne to be amusing and some too disgusting for words. Ultimately, McGraw determined that funniness could be predicted based on how committed a person is to the norm being violated, conflicts between two salient norms, and psychological distance from the perceived violation.

The ultimate takeaway of McGraw’s paper was that the evolutionary purpose of laughter and amusement is to “signal to the world that a violation is indeed OK.” Building on the work of behavioral neurologist V. S. Ramachandran, McGraw believes that laughter developed as an instinctual way to signal that a threat is actually a false alarm—say, that a rustle in the bushes is the wind, not a saber-toothed tiger. “Organisms that could separate benign violations from real threats benefited greatly,” McGraw says.

One Professor’s Attempt to Explain Every Joke Ever / By Joel Warner / wired.com magazine / April 26, 2011