I want that show of yours.
We go back a long way inside my mind, don’t we? Nothing I’ve ever said over the past nine years can be understood without also understanding that not a single person has EVER acknowledged being in my audience. No one has ever spoken to me, no one has ever bought a ticket, nothing. So not only do I have to try to carry on a show, I have to discover my own audience. I have to smoke ’em out. I do that by two methods: echolocation and button pushing.
I never had watched much television. A friend of mine, to whom I had explained this technique of echolocation in early 2006, said to me, “This may be a false positive, but I think Jon Stewart is in your audience.” I had heard of you but I had never seen your show. Again, I’ve never watched much television. So I said, “Well, this bears investigating.” And I sat in on your show. This was back in early 2006. And after a few months, it looked to me that, indeed, you were in my audience.
But echolocation is not good enough. I needed proof. So I would deliberately say things in my show that I knew would piss you off. And I’ll be damned if I couldn’t type something on my computer in the morning and, right on schedule, you’d fly into a rage later that evening.
I found it very odd that no one would speak to me, but yet a top-shelf audience appeared to be sitting in on my show. “But why will no one speak to me?” So I would perform other experiments. And by mid-2007 I had proven to my satisfaction that Idiot Nondiction United States had placed me in a Kook Law Containment Field.
It’s kind of hard to have a comedy career when you’re in a fucking Kook Law Containment Field.
So I want you to know that I’ve never intended any offense. It’s just that my professional considerations are unique. I am certain that no other stage performer has ever needed to devote fully one third of his material, both on and off stage, just to smoke out his own audience. You will agree that it’s impossible to put on a show for an audience that resolutely refuses to interact with the performer. And it has pissed me off to no end that I’ve spun my wheels for an entire decade as I tried to do something new, a show delivered exclusively on the Internet. People apparently think this is a blog.
I’m a fan. But I’m not an acolyte. I’m sure there are any number of people acting like they’re your best bud, slappin’ your back and telling you what they think you want to hear. It’s not my style. So that alone sets me apart. And I’ve long esteemed your work. I traveled to Boston in 2006 to watch you perform live. I bought two tickets to your show, even though it was just me. Did your glad-handing acolytes buy two tickets to your show? Or did they ask for comp passes? So who here esteems you more? Who here valued your work enough to go out of his way to hear you speak?
The proof is in the pudding.
You’ve built a muscle car over there. I admire it and I want it. I’ll take good care of it, I promise. And I bring to the table patented technology to turbocharge that baby. I’ve spent twelve years sharpening my skills and developing technology possessed by no other comedian. I have a singular pedigree which I think can benefit your operation.
Here are my bona fides:
–If I need to speak with the president, I just type something. I have an elite audience.
–Stemming from my days promoting my Fringe Festival show in 2004, I possess excellent skills of audience gathering. If I decide that I need a certain individual or an entire demographic group in my theater, I will deliver material both on and off stage to make that happen. For example, it is in no way accidental that Saunders is in my audience.
–I get to argue my own case in court by text messaging myself.
–If I’m feeling lazy, I’ll carry on my show in my living room by just speaking aloud to my law enforcement audience. It’s kinda cool except when it comes time to masturbate.
–I am in the hands-off, legal protective custody of the Secret Service or in a similarly novel form of legal protection. (And if we can get legal proof of all that, well, that’s marketing fucking gold right there. How many late-night hosts are Secret Service protectees?)
–I’m easy on the eyes; I have a beautiful, deep, resonant voice; and I know how to turn on the funny. And I have excellent interviewing skills from my days of doing Internet radio in 2001.
–Contrary to what my detractors may have claimed in court and in the “news”papers, I don’t have a “history of mental problems.” One of the many, many upsides to my splendid little crime is that it is now a matter of public record that I am the very picture of sanity and –here’s the cherry on top– it turns out that I’m also a clinically certified genius. So if my mental capacity is to be maligned, well, I’m happy to set the record straight.
–I know politics inside and out. And I can talk circles around nearly anyone.
So that’s what I bring. It’s a hard-won, impressive resume that I doubt anyone else can match.
I propose that you stick around for a year or two. Do a co-hosting thing. Set me up a card table and a folding chair next to yours. And I bang my hand down now and again and demand airtime. Or I walk into the shot and give you a wet willy to great, uproarious applause.
And after six months or so the show opens with a shot of you dejectedly pushing a mop bucket, shaking your head and wondering aloud “How the fuck did this happen?!”
When you hand the keys to me at whatever point, you say, “Try not to total it.”
And over a year or two, we’ll slowly incorporate new elements into the show. I’ve got some ideas. I see madcap meets serious meets Price Is Right swirling spotlights and big-titted women comin’ on down!
So that’s my pitch.
I do not have cable, so I have no means of seeing your show. Should you choose to reply, please do so by mail. I’ve never much cared to believe that people on TV are talking to me.
I am America’s Senior Comedian. Thank you for your kind attention in this matter.