Some highlights below:

“Bring the Pain” would be bigger today. You know why? Because you wouldn’t be able to report on it. The New York Times wouldn’t be able to say it was great. It wouldn’t be on Netflix. It would be like the Shane Gillis thing, which would actually elevate it.

…

Nobody stays edgy. You become the establishment. Early in your career, it’s your performance, but it’s also the promise of who you are. So the public is investing in this thing, this stock. But later on you’re like LeBron. It’s all results and we’ll give you a one-year deal — as long as you play like LeBron. I mean, I’ve seen careers and people change. Steve Martin’s the king of reinvention.

…

Jokes tend to work better when there’s some truth in them, when you’re not just making up stuff. I think the audience can tell who’s fake. They can tell if you’re married, they can tell if you’ve got kids, they can tell if you worked. You can’t fake anything. The thing about comedians is, there’s no mystique. There’s no Ziggy Stardust of comedians. You are who you are, and they’re rolling with you or not.

…

I’m really bad at reading nonverbal signals. I catastrophize, I have black-and-white thinking — both things that are great for being a comedian but bad in personal life and real relationships. So I’ve been learning.

…

The greatest feelings in life are sex and laughter. We break up with people that we have great sex with all the time. We don’t break up with anybody that makes us laugh. And the ability to laugh at oneself is probably the highest form of intelligence. The inability to laugh at oneself is a sure sign you’re dealing with an idiot.

Share

More Chris Rock posts:

The Rubesletter by Matt Ruby 💎

Good comedy isn’t on anyone’s side

The Chris Rock special aired live Saturday night on Netflix and of course social media tribalists turned it into an invitation to post whatever “See, *I* was right all along” propaganda they were gonna post anyway. Easily offended libs were, you guessed it, offended and anti-woke conservatives were all “he’s one of us.” Blinded by their partisanship, bo…

Read more

4 years ago · 12 likes · 3 comments · Matt Ruby

The Rubesletter by Matt Ruby 💎

On Dave Chappelle, Chris Rock, and the curse of charisma

The best (English) public speakers of the past century: MLK. Obama. JFK. Churchill. Dave Chappelle. Yup, he’s that good…

Read more

2 years ago · 11 likes · 2 comments · Matt Ruby

Looney Tunes animator Chuck Jones shared six lessons that he learned about comedy from working with director Tex Avery:

1. You must love what you caricature. You must not mock it—unless it is ridiculously self-important, like the solemn live-action travelogues of that day.

2. You must learn to respect that golden atom, that single-frame of action, that 1/24th of a second, because the difference between lightning and the lightning bug may hinge on that single frame.

   

3. You must respect the impulsive thought and try to implement it. You cannot perform as a director by what you already know, you must depend on the flash of inspiration that you do not expect and do not know.

4. You must remember always that only man, of all creatures, can blush, or needs to; that only a man can laugh, or needs to, and that if you are in that trade of helping others to laugh and to survive by laughter, then you are privileged indeed.

5. Remember always that character is all that matters in the making of great comedians in animation and in live-action.

6. Keep always in your mind, your heart and your hand that timing is the essence, the spine, and the electrical magic of humor—and of animation.

Related:

Working Methods

Chuck Jones: Throw a yes session

Animator Chuck Jones…

Read more

a month ago · Matt Ruby

Theory: The popularity of reaction shots and crowdwork clips are a manifestation of the loneliness epidemic. Both are demonstrating the latent hunger for human connection in our society.

I kinda relate to Macklemore because I too am frequently an opening act who gets oddly political and makes things weird for the headliner.

Why we lost funny movies: Horror travels better than comedy. Actually, this explains why social media platforms are so toxic too.

“So how long have you two been a couple?”
-Modern day philosophers

So many “men suck” punchlines nowadays. Hate to break it to you ladies, but these are just Kill Tony jokes for women. Lazy slurs that get cheers from your tribe. Congrats on getting over, but hack is still hack.

Trying new material is sacrificing the audience in front of you for the well-being of a future audience.

Read more

Adele Carollo is the General Manager and booker at The Stand comedy club in New York City (and previously spent a year in Ohio helping Dave Chappelle open his comedy club). We hopped on a call to talk about auditions, social media, crowd work, and what she’s actually looking for when a comic walks onstage.

Let’s say a comic wants to start performing at The Stand. What’s the path?

The audition process doesn’t happen as often as you’d think. The last thing you wanna do is watch someone, pass them, and then have no slots to put them in. So auditions are spread out on purpose — we don’t want to give people false hope or empty promises. Talented comedians bring their best material to audition, and if we can’t get them in the fold right away, what’s really the point?

Once you’re passed, there are levels. Hosting is a great way to start. You get your ten minutes up top, some crowd work reps talking to the audience. It’s a different job than doing spots, but if you get really good at it, it lends itself to being good at doing your fifteen-minute spot. They overlap.

We also have two showrooms. The upstairs showroom is smaller, and we save the main event for the main showroom. Comics who just got passed will often perform upstairs first, then progress to the main showroom. It’s a way to get them in the fold without taking spots — and, let’s be honest, money — out of the OG comics’ pockets by bumping them. So it’s a progression.

How does a comic even get to the audition stage?

It’s old school. It’s the referral process. Guys and gals we respect who are passed comedians — they tell us, “You’ve gotta check out this person. I go on the road with them and they’re killing it.” We take those recommendations very seriously. Especially if they’ve toured with them, because we’ve seen them handle the same jokes in different crowds and different rooms. That’s a lot different than watching a clip where everything lined up perfectly.

Getting on produced shows is also helpful. A producer will book a comedian, we get exposed to them, and we’ll watch. We have a little window in the AV room, a speaker with the volume up. If it’s somebody we don’t know and a producer brought them in, we’ll pay attention.

And just get in the building. Get on the stage by hook or by crook. It doesn’t have to be in an official capacity — it could be an open mic. Just show up. And you know how many times a comic’s been running late and I’ve turned to the comics’ table and said, “I need you to go up, seven-minute guest spot, so-and-so is running late”? It’s really being in the right place at the right time.

There’s a finesse to it, though. You’re there for a reason — remembering that, paying attention, having smart and engaging conversations with your peers, listening to people who’ve been doing it longer. It’s like school for comedy.

Watching comedy is huge. At The Stand, we have an open door policy for comedians — free admission if you’re a comic. If it’s a sold-out show, we can’t, but if there are seats in the back and you’re respectful, you can absolutely come watch. Watch the same comic multiple times. Watch how Mark Normand switches a joke because it’s not working. You hear the same things said differently. That’s a pro making it look like the first time they ever said it. How do you get to that point? You witness it first.

🔌 Support this newsletter by going paid. Paid subscribers get bonus stuff, support the cause, and help keep posts like this free for everyone else. Thanks.

Subscribe now

Once someone is onstage, what are you looking for beyond just being funny?

Be likable. I’m in the business of hospitality too. Address the crowd. Say hello. Be present, be engaging, be likable.

And calmness. The pros have a certain level of calmness about them. Being grounded, thinking about what you’re saying, connecting. It’s a true test of a pro because the nerves show, and it’s hard — even the pros. Not looking nervous, looking comfortable, not minding if there’s a pause, taking a beat, owning that beat onstage, not crumbling. After so long watching comedy, you can just see when somebody’s taking a beat versus when somebody is spiraling in their head.

What about introducing yourself – telling the audience who you are? Is that still necessary?

You wanna hear relatable stories from the comedian onstage, and I’d say always try to connect and find some common ground to talk about. But the “who am I” moment up top — I don’t think it’s necessary. Especially in a showcase club where there’s a ten to fifteen minute set. Let’s get at it.

What about crowdwork?

To each their own. If they enjoy it and it works and it pops, the audience loves it. Do I love it? No. I also think it gives audiences the wrong idea — there’s this huge misconception that heckling or calling out is part of a comedy show. I’ve heard so many times when I’ve tried to quiet folks down and they say, “What? I’m helping. He talked to me.”

And in a showcase club, you’re seeing the same crowdwork repeated by comic after comic asking, “Where are you from?” The audience has already been through it twice. Tread lightly, don’t go too much. And I wouldn’t recommend doing it during an audition set. You want to get your material out there. That said, ignoring crowdwork entirely and refusing doesn’t work either.

What are common mistakes you see newer comics making?

The fear to pivot. They will tell that joke no matter what. Sometimes you’ve gotta bail on it and move on. When they barrel through a joke that’s not working — abort, move on, say something else. You should have enough material in your arsenal that you can bust out a new joke and get the crowd back.

How do you factor in social media followers when booking?

It cannot be our motivation for booking someone, and it won’t ever be. Followers doesn’t mean you’re getting passed. It’s a tool. It’s helpful once someone is past because it helps them sell tickets and get the word out. But it’s not in our criteria for booking, and we make a conscious effort to keep it out of the equation.

That said, social media helps comedians reach audiences who can’t come to the club — whether they’re out of state, can’t afford it, don’t have childcare. They can still hear you and become a fan and follow your career on a continuous basis. They start to feel like they know you. Unfortunately, we sort of have to feed the machine.

What’s the right amount of persistence for a comic reaching out?

I don’t think it’s ever annoying. I think you should never stop. But keep it short and sweet, and don’t show frustration. Don’t put so much stake in it. Whatever you’re feeling — “this is annoying them,” “this is too much,” “fuck them, I should never reach out” — keep it light.

We’re not going to be annoyed. It’s a reminder. Bumping up an email is a thing because we’re all so busy. Stay calm and zen, no sass in your message, just being polite and genuine. Keep shooting a quick message. I don’t see any harm in that.

Is there a territorial mindset between clubs — if someone performs at the Cellar all the time, are you less likely to book them?

As the new kids on the block, we never had that luxury. We were always like, “Please, thank you.” I’ve pulled Ubers for Nikki Glaser to get her to the Cellar. “Thank you for coming. Here’s your card so you’re not late. Tell Liz hello.” It’s all love.

The complications come sometimes with overbooking, shows running late, double booking. But other than that, being at multiple clubs is good for comedy.

Is there a home club mentality — trying to cultivate someone’s career from the beginning?

Yeah, of course. The term “home club” pulls on our heartstrings. We love that. And especially not knowing they’ll end up blowing up — nurturing them, caring about them, working with them before that moment is what matters. The come-up is the best part.

What advice do you wish someone had given you earlier in your career?

I’m learning more and more that comedians are down, but their agents will talk them out of it real quick. Booking has a lot to do with the reps. When you’re talking about booking someone for a headliner gig or a festival, you’re dealing a lot of times with agents — and especially at a certain level. A comedian will say yes, and then you talk to their WME agent and it’s a different story.

When I was GMing, agents were sometimes the worst audience members and the worst people, and I’d be annoyed they were there. If I could go back, I’d say: shake more hands, write down names, realize you’ll be meeting these people again as a booker.

Anything else that’s helpful for comedians trying to figure this out?

Watch comedy. To be good at comedy, you have to watch comedy. That’s always been what I’ve said. We have that open door policy at The Stand for comedians for exactly that reason. It’s school for comedy.

And stay solid, be genuine. Shoot a text, check in with your friends, stay in touch. You never know.

What’s going on with the expansion of The Stand?

We have The Stand Miami being built as we speak. It’s projected to open in 2027. And now we have the west side location. The Stand West is on Fifteenth Street between Ninth and Tenth in the Chelsea Market area. It’s more strictly a comedy room — bigger, which is exciting — and really the reason we did it is because comics are looking for that venue that’s a little bit bigger than a club showroom but not quite a four-hundred-seat theater. That sweet spot in between, for a longer set, a headliner-type show, a comedian-and-friends setup.

At Stand West, it’ll look more like headlining shows with features. We don’t do headlining at The Stand on Sixteenth Street — it’s a showcase. But Stand West, we’re going to try some different things. I’m a purist for standup, but I’m open to trying the dating show comedy formats, the game show comedy formats. You gotta sell tickets.

Tell me about the Chappelle connection.

At The Stand, we became friendly with Dave Chappelle when he was looking to perform ahead of hosting SNL in November 2020, going around to his usual clubs asking to get onstage, but they just weren’t open or wouldn’t risk it. The Stand did. We did COVID tests for every audience member, quarantined until you got your negative results and got a wristband. We ran a couple shows, and he was very appreciative and continued showing his gratitude through the years, doing pop-up shows.

Then it was time for him to open his own club in Ohio, his hometown. He took me to Ohio, and I lived there for a year and helped open his comedy club — from the chairs to the employee manuals to the point-of-sale system.

When I came back, I had some perspective about what I wanted to do. I was able to say, “I wanna do the part of my job I always enjoyed, and none of the other stuff.” So the job in that is talent booking, programming shows.

My taping went great. Truly amazing. Thanks so much to everyone who came out (and to y’all for putting up with my promo efforts here). It’s gonna be killer. Really.

The most stressful part was selling tickets. Everyone waits until the last minute these days. I wanna complain about that, but I tend to do the same thing so… 🤷🏻‍♂️

Here’s a chart about that via Claude:

Details: First set went great. Smooth, consistent laughs throughout. Once I knew I had that in the can, I knew I could play around more in the second set. That one had more variance but when things hit, they hit hard (i.e. way more applause breaks). That blend works well because it’ll give the editor options with the final cut.

If I’m being nitpicky, there were some iffy front row folks (i.e. older + English as a second language) in the second show. If I had an audience coordinator to swap folks around that mighta been a nice catch. But I ain’t working with that kinda budget. At least I turned it into some fun riffing – we’ll see if any of that makes the final cut.

Went with a roaming cam operator for the first time. Looking forward to seeing that footage. Told him to get artsy with it (e.g. shoot my feet or other angles) so the editor can potentially use some of that instead of cutting to crowd when we need to cover an edit point. (I think crowd reaction shots are kinda cheesy and prefer to avoid ‘em.)

A good lesson I learned: Make sure to test drive your fit before taping. If you throw on something new, you. might be in for a surprise. The week before, I went shopping for clothes and put together a mood board (or whatever you wanna call it) of potential options…

…after seeking input, I was gonna wear the brown jacket in upper right. Then I tried it out on another show and it was hottttttt. Within minutes, I was sweating. Didn’t want that for the special so pivoted to the red jacket instead (which popped nicely against the blue backdrop). Also, when I came home from the fit test drive, I turned on an NBA game and Blake Griffin was wearing the same jacket.

Blake seems cool, but I’d rather go with something unique than the same thing picked out by some Amazon Prime stylist.

Thanks so much to everyone who helped make it happen: The incredible 2 Buffoons Productions team (hire them!): Director Ryan Devir, Jason Katz, Steve Nahorniak, Nicole Lyons, and Eric Grisanti. The editor is Anthony Verderame (who also did my Substance and BOLO specials). Photographer Matt Salacuse shot some cool stills. The MC was Dan Davies and the opening comics were Ryan Hamilton and Jason Choi. Gina Williams gave me some powder (makeup not blow). The whole staff at NY Comedy Club killed it (fyi you can see me there Mondays/Wednesdays at our weekly Good Eggs shows). And I so appreciate everyone who showed up (especially those who spread the word and brought out friends too).

PHEW. Deep exhale. I’m trying to enjoy this feeling. (Good job, Matt!) Now it’s me throwing out two years of material and starting all over again. Sometimes ya gotta burn down the forest to let the new trees grow. Onward.

Original post here:

I’m taping a special on Sunday (Oct 25) in NYC. Get tickets here. (Promo code “groovy” for discount.)

Ticket link here. Promo code “groovy” gets you a discount. Tell a friend. Thanks.

🎟️ Get tickets here. 🎟️

So what’s my writing process for comedy like? How do you get ready to film a special? This video reveals all!

1) I’m filming a standup comedy special on Oct 25 in NYC! Woohoo.

2) Two shows (5pm & 7pm) with an afterparty to follow (location TBD).

3) 🎟️ Get tickets here. 🎟️ Early bird special: promo code “groovy” gets you discount if you buy now. (Tryna encourage early buying so it’s not a last minute scramble.)

4) Gonna be my best show of the year. Been honing these jokes for a WHILE and it’s now time to capture the magic/release them into the wild.

5) I need the best crowd possible so I’d love to see you there! Seriously, it’d be swell to look out and see folks who “get it” instead of a bunch of randos.

6) Tell your NYC friends! Please spread the word to anyone else who appreciates smartfunnydark™️ comedy too. 😎

Share

7) Blurb action:

🎥 Live special taping • October 25 • NY Comedy Club (24th St) • 5 & 7pm

RAVES FOR MATT RUBY

🗯️ “Button-pushing…funny...a New York comedy institution.”
-NY Times

🗯️ “One of the smartest voices in standup right now.”
-Standupworld com

8) If even the discounted price feels outta reach, reach out to me direct and I’ll hook you up.

9) Hit me up with any questions.

10) I love you!

-Matt

P.S. Wanna see clips of me telling jokes? Check me out on Instagram, YouTube, or TikTok. Here’s the same vid on IG:

💥 Great line from Nikki Glaser: “I want to be f*ckable. I don’t actually want to be f*cked.”

I do want to be liked by everyone because it’s a sickness, but I also want to say things that make people feel less alone. I always felt like I was weird, and no one was really an example of that on TV — the people that were my role models. And yeah, I want to be f*ckable because it makes people treat you better and give you more money for things. I don’t actually want to be f*cked. I want to be clear about that. I don’t want to be penetrated. I just want the stuff that comes with people wanting to.

💥 How approaches crowdwork:

💥 Lesson from this Greg Warren profile: It’s silly to be much too clean but not all the way clean. [via The Jokebook]

From the start, [Greg] Warren kept his material mostly PG, and then a comedy friend who admired his work suggested Warren was “much too clean to not be all the way clean. You should do that. I think it would work in your favor.” So he switched to what he now calls “Nateland clean,” which is entirely family friendly.

💥 Michelle Goldberg on Trump’s fading political instincts. Her reasoning (comedy angle ahead):

His political instincts are clearly fading, right? He’s even more in a bubble. He’s not doing as many rallies, and so he’s not doing this real-time crowd work that lets him see what hits and what doesn’t.

I think we’re going to talk about A.I., but you see that with his instincts on A.I. I think if he tested that in a room with his supporters, he might be sounding different. Instead, he just put something — his most recent all-gas-no-brakes statements about A.I. on Truth Social, and there’s the story in The Times about how his fans responded. They were like, “Absolutely not.”

Solid point. He stopped doing the road and now he can’t gauge how his material is hitting. Every comedian can relate.

💥 Attell!

💥 Gershwyn from openmicx sent over some info on what newer comics can learn from the site’s data.

The big thing that stood out is that thursday alone accounts for more listed mic night instances than Friday, Saturday, and Sunday combined. Mon through Thursday is basically where the reps live.

A couple other things in there felt useful too. LA looks way more “free” in the structured data than it really is once you read the listing descriptions, NYC has the clearest listed cost friction, and cities with similar mic counts can be totally different to navigate depending on how spread out or concentrated the rooms are.

Read more

Wrote about this over at :

Comedians are getting replaced by Sebastian Maniscalco and a Kardashian clone

SiriusXM’s Raw Dog shakeup puts the squeeze on working comics while AI-slop hotties prove joke theft is a lucrative business.

Come see me tape a special live in NYC on Oct 25. Ticket link here – use the code “groovy” for a discount.

Some images to give you a sneak peek:

Check out “Comedians are getting replaced by Sebastian Maniscalco and a Kardashian clone” here.

Btw, here’s an interesting counterargument to the comedians complaining about SiriusXM from Christopher Titus:

There Is No Crying in Comedy

After 40-plus years in stand-up, 11 90-minute specials, and living on the road three-quarters of the time, I have to be honest: seeing comics bitch about how hard it is, or how they don’t get paid enough, worries me.

There is no crying in comedy. There is no bitching about pay. You put asses in seats, you get paid. If you don’t, you don’t. If you aren’t bringing something—originality, the ability to slay a room, an insight that makes people howl—you don’t get to bitch. This job is fucking hard.

In stand-up, you have to create a real emotion—laughter—and you have to do it every 10 or 15 seconds. No other job demands that. You are a lone wolf, a single warrior, trying to be everyone’s best friend, the most charming, funny, insightful person in a roomful of strangers who have just met you. That’s insane. You need the confidence of a serial killer, the courage of a SEAL team leader, and the calm of a monk.

Even then, you still have to write funny.

You have to find a new way to say something that’s already been said, or invent something no one has ever seen. Harlan, Rock, Bamford. There’s a reason so few of us get anywhere.

I’ve been fucking lucky, and I’ve worked my ass off since I was 17. I decided at five years old. Comedy is not a “I’m gonna try this” kind of thing. It’s gotta burn in you. It’s not a casual decision.

There is no one path, either. The only constant is stage time. Stage time. Fucking stage time.

If you’re two years in and complaining, STFU and write more. If you’re 20 years in and complaining, that’s on you. Comedy is zero sum. You make crowds howl? You make them leap to their feet when you say “goodnight”? You’ll be fine.

If you’re worried about views, likes, numbers, or going viral, you missed the point. Whether it was printing flyers in the eighties, building a local following, or hustling online, we’ve always had to work to get seen, get known, and find our audience.

Sucking it up in soul-crushing comedy competitions. Driving 18 hours because the gigs are that far apart. It’s a fucking slog. Always has been.

But comedians—real comedians—work.

And I don’t mean getting booked. I mean building a new show. Writing a new bit. Keeping up with the world. Constantly.

If you’re doing shit you wrote six years ago, quit. Or quit bitching that you aren’t famous.

You are the product.

It costs a shitload to open a comedy club, so respect it. Don’t fuck the waitstaff. Tip them. They’re the grease in your self-centered wheel of narcissism.

And don’t bitch about someone else’s success. You can have that too. There’s no magic. Just work.

The internet has created acts on YouTube who have gotten success and lost it quickly. The ones who got it and busted their asses lasted. Angela Johnson. Bo Burnham. There are too many of you who didn’t study the greats. You don’t know what this is.

If the jester didn’t make the king laugh, they took his head.

That’s bombing.

Start writing. Keep hustling. Stop whining.

And congratulations to Nate, Sebastian, Rife, and everyone who got through.

The gatekeepers aren’t comedy fans anymore. They’re number checkers. So it’s harder now and easier at the same time.

Just know that when you blow up because of a moment of genius you put on Instagram, don’t rest. Work harder.

The window opens so briefly, and it closes quickly. There is also a line of thousands waiting to take your spot.

Show up. Be funny. Be original. Don’t be a dick.

You’ll be fine.

I haven’t always followed those rules, but I learned.

And if you have the balls to do it?

I fucking love you.

Shane/SNL drama! You probably heard about it.

Several famous faces tore apart Gillis over his remarks. Schitt’s Creek creator and actor Dan Levy posted a video on Instagram, saying, “Women wearing short shorts to the gym does not make them wh---s. It makes the men calling them ‘wh---s,’ misogynists. There’s a difference there.”

Um, hate to nitpick but he didn’t call them whores, he said they dress like…

Eh, you get it.

This was a worlds colliding thing. Shane did that set all week at clubs in NYC and, from what I heard, it killed. But this was enemy territory: On SNL…right after that Cornell story blew up…and he used that word (“whore”) in a way that was bound to make many home viewers furious. So watch out.

For those who know Shane, it didn’t seem like anything wild. But SNL now feels like one of the few places left where people have to share the same timeline. And everyone is shocked (SHOCKED!) to find out what's happening over on the other side. The Rogan bro timeline is gonzo for UFC, Shane, and AG1. Meanwhile, the Call Her Daddy girlie timeline screams, “This is why we pick the bear!” Online, these groups rarely share the same space. So when they finally collide, like when SNL airs, all hell breaks loose. 💣🤯😱

But what about the actual joke? Does Shane deserve to be condemned?

Let’s get into it…

Read more

I was thinking about this when watching this clip of actor Andrew Scott talking about the phrase “openly gay” during an actors roundtable conducted by The Hollywood Reporter:

The second this came out of his mouth, I was like: That’s a bit.

“I’m going to make a pitch for getting rid of the phrase ‘openly gay,’” said Scott, steering the conversation in a more illuminating direction. “It’s an expression that you only ever hear in the media. You’re never at a party and you say, ‘This is my openly gay friend…’” Why, he wondered, is “openly” always attached to that adjective? “We don’t say you’re ‘openly Irish.’ We don’t say you’re ‘openly left-handed’…There’s something in it that’s a little near ‘shamelessly.’ ‘You’re open about it?’ You know what I’m saying?” He proposed that “it’s time to just sort of park it.”

It’s all there. Solid premise. Great observation. Act out. Twist with a metaphor. And a little “twist the knife” cultural commentary embedded throughout. Obviously it’s all coming from a personal place too. No wonder the rest of the table was dying.

I mean, can’t you just hear that coming from Matteo Lane onstage (or some other smart/gay comic)? It’s like some combo of Carlin meets Queer Eye. I immediately wondered, “Has this guy done standup before?” (A: No, but plenty of time onstage.)

🔌 Paid subscribers help make posts like this free for everyone else. Sign up and you’ll get bonus stuff too. Thanks.

Subscribe now

The takeaway: Ya gotta have your antennae up all the time. Sometimes it’s you getting fired up about something and ranting out a clever angle. Stop and write it down! (Or make a voice note for yourself.) Or maybe a non-comic taps into something and you can ask, “Can I use that?” (Make it your own, of course.) Or do your comic friend a solid and notice when they’re onto something and let ‘em know: “There’s a bit in that.”

Great jokes are happening all the time. You just need to have your metal detector out in order to spot the gold. And when you do, don’t let it go. They disappear as soon as they show up.

Update: Similar Carlin bit exists!

Related:

Years ago, you usually only saw crowdwork done during a host set. It was a way of taking random strangers and unifying them. After all, nothing’s more relatable than “that guy just said _____.” We all experienced that.

And my theory is that’s the same reason it works online.

Come see me tape a special live in NYC on Oct 25. Ticket link here – use the code “groovy” for a discount.

With the algorithm, there is no context. Some guy with a mic pops up in your timeline and you don’t know him, his background, the jokes that came before, etc. But you can align with crowdwork because we all saw what just happened.

It’s not that it’s an inferior form of comedy, but…well, it kinda is. Because there’s a hierarchy in standup…

Read more

Upcoming shows

Get tickets here.

Sebastian’s new channel on SiriusXM is crushing middle class comedians who rely on payments from the company to pad income. Now some are fighting back. (Thanks to them!) Spread the word if ya care. Details below:

Liz Miele: “This video is for @sebastiancomedy • If you like comedy please help us by sharing this video - thank you #siriussebastian”

🔌 Wanna help this here mid-tier comedian? Get the paid plan of FUNNY HOW. You’ll get bonus stuff too.

Subscribe now

Greg Stone:

The number of comics getting played went from 808 in March to 383 in July. That’s over 400 working comedians cut off.

And here’s the part that should make you mad. The total airtime didn’t change. Sirius didn’t save a dime. They just took the plays from 400 working comics and handed them to the top 50, who now get over 75% of everything.

Each play is about $15 to the comic. Doesn’t sound like much. But for a lot of us, that was rent. That was diapers. That was the thing keeping us in the game.

This didn’t hurt the famous guys or the influencers. It hurt the middle. The road dogs, the people in the clubs every night pushing comedy forward.

So here’s what you can do. Call every SiriusXM show you listen to and say three words. Bring Back Raw Dog.

Sebastian, you’re ruining younger comics’ lives. Aren’t you embarrassed? #sebastionmaniscalco #rawdogradio

AI summary of how this is “Edging Out Working-Class Comedians”:

• Loss of Royalties: Independent, working-class comics rely heavily on SiriusXM play rotation for passive income and building fanbases. Comedian Liz Miele published an open appeal to Maniscalco on Facebook, pointing out that the rebrand slashed the rotation from roughly 800 independent acts down to fewer than 300 celebrity-driven names.

• Industry Frustration: Independent comics on r/Standup noted that their album plays instantly went to zero following the channel takeover, directly hurting middle-class artists who do not have massive arena tours. [1, 2, 3]

💥 Everyone’s looking for shortcuts to success (and everything else). Rick Rubin warns about the danger in that:

We live in a society of looking for shortcuts. There are no shortcuts. The shortcut you’re missing — the synopsis isn’t the article. The headline isn’t the story. We miss all of the nuance and all of the depth when we’re just living on the surface with the bare amount of information, thinking we know what’s going on.

And that’s where the discipline comes in. The discipline is the commitment. The discipline is the thing that allows us to get to where we want to go. And we think of discipline as something that gets in the way. And it’s the exact opposite. It allows our dreams to come true.

Related: Steve Martin: “Be undeniably good.”

💥 offers a parable from David Bayles and Ted Orland’s book Art & Fear in this interview with .

The students who were told they’d be graded on quantity made all the best pots because they made a lot of pots, and the students who were told they’d be graded on quality produced almost nothing because they were too occupied with trying to make a perfect pot. The parable tells us that if we worry less about making perfect work and just make a lot of work, we’ll make a lot of junk, sure, but we’re also more likely to make something great.

🔌 Go paid and support. You’ll get bonus stuff too. Appreciate it.

Subscribe now

💥 The Jokebook on the power of networking in comedy:

“The real opportunity is the relationships you make with other comedians,” says Ryan Mirvis. “The comedy community is very much friends helping friends, friends booking friends, and friends creating with friends. Networking is just as important of a skill as joke writing is.”

💥 on his missed connection with artist Mary Heilmann.

When you get a clever idea, it is a consequence of being connected! To be honest, I have always thought of ideas as solo prizes, bestowed upon lucky individuals or earned through diligent idea-generating labor (walks, reading, etc.). But Heilmann says that connection—to language, to other people—is what generates ideas. And I’m realizing that that’s exactly right.

💥 studies New Faces sets:

Lots of people talking about their family. Lots of people talking about where they’re from, how many siblings they have, their mom’s weird quirk, etc. Quite a few people talking about their sexuality. People talking about dating, of course.

Truthfully, the biggest takeaway from watching these sets was that 1) You’ll never go wrong by being unabashedly yourself. Do whatever is your truest identity.

💥 on asking vs. telling jokes:

In my first hour of comedy, I had jokes about issues of social importance to me and I had jokes that had no social importance. I had jokes that made sense and I had jokes that made nonsense. I often say that when I started, I was more ASKING jokes than TELLING them. I would basically say, “Audience, is THIS a joke?” and if the audience laughed, I would have my answer.

I didn’t feel as though I was in complete control of what jokes I would end up telling, because I was beholden to audiences to weigh in with their part…And while that’s still a PART of my process, over the years I’ve learned that I don’t just have to wait and see what sticks to the wall to move forward with an idea…I found that if I spent more time with an idea, invested more effort in the idea, I could shape that idea into something comedically meaningful or meaningfully comedic.

💥 cites this stat: 90% of creators make under $10,000 a year. Oof. An entire generation has been sold a fantasy. No wonder they’re so disillusioned. They thought they were working a job when, in reality, they’ve been playing the lottery.

💥 On comedians posting comic strip-style panels with captions. "Simple changes in the tech world can have an avalanche effect on an entire arts community." Always fun to have your medium of expression art directed by Mark Zuckerberg and the Chinese government. Whatever you say, comedy overlords! But, y’know, if you can’t beat ‘em…

💥 Hank meets the Wu-Tang Clan. Gold!

💥 George Carlin’s notes:

🎧 We need a term for when a comedian is fascinating on podcasts but the actual special they’re promoting is laaaaaame.

🎧 Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee > Comedians on Podcasts Talking About Other Comedians

🎧 Think about how real baseball players feel about the Savanah Bananas. That’s how comedians feel about podcasters who sell out comedy clubs.

🎧 The worst part of video podcasts: The amount viewers are forced to watch grown men wearing shorts.

Info on east coast tour dates and my live special taping in NYC on October 25.

🎧 We treat “comedians podcasting” and “doing standup” as if they’re the same thing when they’re actually wildly different skillsets. For one thing, podcasting is about seeming like an expert while standup is about seeming like an idiot.

Read more

The NY Times’s comedy critic, Jason Zinoman, sat down with Wesley Morris (also a great cultural critic) for a podcast to “remember the debates about comedy in the aftermath of the 9/11 attacks and to think through how that period changed the art form in ways that we’re still experiencing today.”

A couple of excerpts below…

Wesley Morris:

The comedian [after 9/11] had been, in comedy itself, responsiblized to speak to in some way — a wing of comedy had been responsiblized to speak to the moment. To rebut the messaging, the propaganda, the morality, the immorality, these wars that had been enacted. I think that our partisanship had bled into the art form in a way that I think is still with us…

I think that there is a way in which we have decided somehow the way to process things for now is through horror and not through comedy. I think we have made this collective agreement that we’re going to sit in the physical, visceral terror of the unknown, because that is also a moment we are in. We don’t what’s happening to this country, this planet, our block, depending on where, in some cities, you live. Are you near a data center? You don’t know.

I think that the way to experience catharsis right now might be through terror and not through laughter. But I also think it means that it puts a comedian’s job in a really precarious spot. I think we are estranged from comedy culturally. We individual people might be loving going to comedy shows, but I think as a culture, we don’t understand it right now.

Jason Zinoman:

This is part of a playbook that you’re seeing. This is a little bit of, not a change of subject, but it’s broadening it. You’re seeing this all over the world now. There’s a guy, and there’s the Jon Stewart of Turkey, told a joke and he got thrown in jail. He’s still in jail right now. He told a joke, about the leader there, and this happens in China. This is happening - this is a tool in the authoritarian playbook. They go after comedians and it’s important to mention.

A lot of what I said is like, oh, comedians gravitate towards the line, it’s important to them. But there’s also people and we’re one of these countries now. You saw it with Jimmy Kimmel where there is a real price to be paid for hitting that line. It’s not only that’s one thing that the current moment is reminding me of that. It’s not only a tool to create tension and get a big laugh that right now that your people who are getting thrown into jail and Jimmy Kimmel got thrown off taken off the air.

Good convo. Morris is one of my fave culture commentators. but he does this thing re: comedy that irks me: He ignores standup and acts like SNL, late night TV, and movies are the end all and be all of comedy. Pundits do this all the time. To focus on the dying/shrinking areas of an artform while ignoring the ascendant/booming segment in order to draw massive conclusions feels akin to wearing critical blinders.

Is horror replacing comedy in movies? Sure. But how about all the comedians selling out arenas now? Or the ones bubbling up in the clubs/going viral on social? I just wish these pundits would stop “fighting the last war” and look at the real comedy battle that’s actually being waged right now. Comedy is thriving if you stop looking for it exclusively in the same places it was decades ago.

Info on east coast tour dates and my live special taping in NYC on October 25.

Related:

How do you turn real life events into a story? Author explains how he writes travel-related non-fiction and the piece offers some wise ideas for living life and then turning it into something.

Quickie summary: Try to get in a little trouble. Say “yes” to any experience that offers itself up. When done, list the things that were cool. Write up different “scenes.” Keep the ones that work and toss the ones that don’t. Let the good bits talk to each other. Figure out what you’ve collected says about the experience. Add connective tissue. Compress the language as much as possible. Make the reader feel welcome and respected: “Let’s look at this together.”

🔌 Subscribe to the paid plan and you get bonus stuff and help support the cause. Thanks.

Subscribe now

Here’s the full excerpt:

I take a trip, usually of about a week, and write down everything and record everything I can. The general trope has been something like “Dumb-ass Goes to BLANK” (to Dubai, or a homeless camp, or a series of Trump rallies, for example). I try to get in a little trouble, when I can – do things that might not seem to be in the service of the story, but are located on the periphery. During this data-gathering phase, I am trying to say “yes” to any experience that offers itself up, trusting that this will inform the final product.

When I’m done, on the way home, I lightly scan the experience and make an informal list of things that were cool – things that I’m pretty sure will write up well. When I get home, I transcribe my notes and start to work on those promising scenes. Some of them don’t turn out to write up so well after all; others, that I didn’t particularly find all that lively as I lived them, will turn out to really glow on the page.

The general approach lies in me saying to the sections: “If you’re good, you’re in.” This then determines structure. (Taking all the non-working stuff out means whatever is there, is good; finding a relation between the good bits – letting them learn how to talk to one another – is exactly equal to “structure.”)

I put the good bits in and see what the result seems to be saying about the experience. And then, there’s always a funny moment where I calculate how many words I have left – the assigning magazine has usually been very clear on the maximum length. So, I’ll have, say, five good bits and 3000 words left. What’s left in the notes? Is there some nice connective tissue I can graft in? And so on.

The interesting thing is that this approach winds up telling me what I really learned during the trip. The essay itself, as I try to make it more charming and coherent, teaches me what I lived through, in a way that is wiser and truer than what I would have said, had someone asked me, on the way home, what I’d learned. That would just be “in the head” knowledge. The finished essay is something else, something wiser and more authentic…

Line-to-line, it’s the same approach as in fiction: trying to compress the language and make it as efficient as possible; trying to leap over or excise the habitual or cliché; looking for the straightest line between two narrative points.

There’s also an aspiration that I’ve internalized, to be entertaining, or somehow hard-to-resist. I often find myself enacting a stance that says, “Let’s look at this together.” I’m not averse to humor, or to a high/low contrast but these things are all in service of making the reader feel welcome and respected – part of this two-person team that is looking into some phenomenon with interest and curiosity.

Good stuff. Read the rest.

Related: Saunders on writing sentences that don’t sound like anyone else’s (i.e. "freakification").

What if we understood “editing” not to be “correcting” but “revealing” – revealing a new voice. And not a voice that we are “aiming for” or that “sounds like us,” in which we “tell our truths,” but just one that is more interesting? Harder to ignore? And maybe, seeing it on the page for the first time, this voice might perplex or trouble us because it is so much not like us (that is, not like that voice we were “trying to do” or aspired to do or thought we should do) but was its own, a whole new, inexplicable thing?

Seen The Sydney Sweeney Football Boob Ad?

Well, Bill Hicks pretty much wrote it decades ago:

Re: the whole backlash to her ad, dontcha get it? The purpose of a lot of advertising campaigns now is to incite rage. If you're furious about it, that's great. And if you post angrily about it, MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. Madison Avenue's gone from Don Draper at work to Don Draper at home.