Jon Stewart

I had a dream last night that I was on the Daily Show. I was urinating in Jon Stewart's mouth. I was standing on one end of the soundstage and Jon was on the other. I was projectile pissing. My urine was shooting up in the air and Jon Stewart - like a good little frisbee dog - angled himself to catch it. I pissed so much that my urine was overflowing his mouth and spilling over his cheeks.

How would Freud interpret this dream? I'm not Freud, but I would interpret it as telling of my disrespect for Jon Stewart. Jon Stewart's pedantry and topical humor is too much. More than that, it's boring. A comedian's job is not to care or change, but to observe and mock. He was funny when he was doing meaningless fluff for MTV, but now he takes himself way too - yawn - seriously.

As a comedian I did not know anything about performing until I studied the late, great Andy Kaufman. What I learned from Andy was this: The performer is not the performer. The audience is the performer. The performer is the audience. All the performer has to do is sit back and watch. It's paradoxical, but every great performer does it to a certain extent. Every great performer is a profound solipsist. The interesting are NOT interested. They mostly worry about themselves.

Once I learned this I always had a good time - and did a swell job - on stage. 90% of the time I had my audiences rolling on the floor with laughter. 9% of the time the audience would boo, throw beer bottles at me, and pelt me with garbage. 1% accounts for the shows that were too weird to be classified one way or the other. But no matter what my reaction I was always the audience. I performed for myself as I write for myself.

Jon Stewart either forgot that rule or (more likely) never learned it. If I were him I would set out to infuriate the American public.

For exampled I remember when he verbally spanked that economic czar: "Mr. What's-His-Name". (I'm too lazy to google him right now and the library closes in 20 minutes; more than that, who cares what the guys name was?)

Jon Stewart seemed to be blaming this poor man for our economic crisis and the abominable behavior of corporations. Long story short: Jon (the Bully) Stewart shamed and browbeat this man on national television and our lynch mob nation - hungry for blood - cheered.

If I were interviewing Mr. What's-His-Name I would infuriate the American public by asking him the most ridiculously softball questions imaginable.

I would start out thus: "So, Mr. What's-His-Name, to paraphrase Nietzsche - we are both above the petty chatter of politics, so I am going to ask you some important questions. Now, we know you are a good and hardworking man. What do you do to unwind?"

Imagine the red-face lynch-hungry Americans jumping off their couches for that one!

I'd finish the interview with the most difficult question of all: "So, Mr. What's-His-Name, what is your favorite flavor of ice cream? Tell me! Don't lie to me! Don't lie to the American public!"

If Jon Stewart had any imagination he would have conducted the interview in such a fashion. But he doesn't have imagination. He's the performer, not the audience. I'm the audience.

Now, Jon, open up your mouth. There ya' go! Open it wide!

Whizzzzzzzzz.... Tinkle, tinkle, tinkle....