Two nights ago, some friends and I attended Judah Friedlander's comedy show. Afterwards, we went home and discovered the Web site www.snacksandshit.com. The Web site, which chronicles horrendous/hilarious lyrics from rap songs (Busta Rhymes is by far the best contributor) was way more entertaining. I was perplexed. Was I becoming one of those technology−crazed Gen−Z−ers who can't enjoy real interactions with live people, preferring to relate instead to a screen? Or was I modeling my Depression−era grandparents who couldn't enjoy something that cost money when there was a free option available? Nope — I'm pretty sure Judah Friedlander just wasn't very funny.
The funny thing about how not funny he was is that he and the rappers that redeemed my night share a schtick, which generally involves them being the best at things, talking about their balls and having sex with chicks (especially chicks who are some other guys' girlfriends). So why did one have me peeing my pants laughing and the other have me running for the door? Only metaphorically, of course — I was afraid that if I really left, he would call me out and try to engage me in the banal conversation that constituted over half of his act.
The answer, I think, is one of the great ironies of a society where stupid and/or egomaniacal people (or at least regular people who act that way) entertain us. Poor Mr. Friedlander crashed and burned because he was trying to be funny. His hard−knock counterparts, however, were being completely serious, and so their renditions of the same persona introduced hours earlier by Judah were infinitely more hilarious, especially when presented to me in the form of a blog that begged the question, "Are these guys for real?"
We knew Judah wasn't for real — he wasn't fooling anyone — but he just wouldn't drop the act. It was painful. Maybe I'm biased because I love self−deprecating humor and have a soft spot for guys who actually wash their hair, but the "30 Rock" star's refusal to abandon the narcissistic, megalomaniacal pretense got old after the first 15 minutes. There were just too many turnarounds — Judah Friedlander was pretending to be serious about funny things in order to be seriously funny, and it failed, perhaps because the "truth" was so heavily convoluted. Rappers with ridiculous lyrics are a little more straightforward — they are being serious, and it is funny.
I guess this is the reason why neither Judah Friedlander nor anyone on my new favorite Web site has a real job. That's not to say what they do isn't work; I'm sure sometimes it is. It's just not your standard employment, with the résumé and the interview and all that. Can you imagine any of those guys (...or Fergie) in an interview? The Web site's bloggers paint a likely picture:
Jay−Z: "I've sold kilos of coke, I'm guessing I can sell CDs."
Guy who's hiring at Virgin: "We're going to go with the other guy."
I'm sure Judah Friedlander's interview would be pretty similar, but with more talk of boners and extreme weightlifting abilities. Good thing these men and women have found their calling in entertainment, not retail, but as we saw the other night, they still sometimes mess it up.
My take−home message here is actually this: Please don't try to be like Judah Friedlander, all ye who sat in the crowd and tried to heckle him with a taste of his own medicine. It's not funny coming from him, and even if it was, you live in the real world, and it would just not work for you. Imagine how dumb you would look if you got up on stage during a Kanye concert and yelled, "No, I'm the next John Lennon!"
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Jessie Borkan is a senior majoring in psychology. She can be reached at Jessie.Borkan@tufts.edu.
