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Authors: David Cross

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BOOK: I Drink for a Reason
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SFist
, like most of the crowd, were there to see David Cross, and able openers only served to increase our anticipation for his
set. Cross’s work on
Mr. Show
and
Arrested Development
are some of the funniest in contemporary comedy. Sadly,
SFist
was really disappointed (
appalled
might be the better word) by David Cross’s routine. In addition to getting the smallest laughs from the crowd, it was the
most blatant public display of bigotry we’ve witnessed in person.

It’s difficult to define the difference between making fun of something and attacking it. It’s a fine line, but many comics
get it right: the greatest cultural and religious satire takes the beliefs held by a group of people and spins it to show
the comedy inherent in those beliefs. For example,
South Park
has covered the very same ground in terms of joking about Mormons by going through the Joseph Smith story (which was what
Cross went through as well).
South Park
explicates the story to hilarious (and irreverent) effect by making it into a musical, complete with ditties about translating
golden plates, angels appearing, and the plates conveniently disappearing whenever outside sources ask for evidence. Cross,
on the other hand, simply laid out the story of the religion’s foundation, and at the end of major points essentially said,
“Isn’t that dumb?” “Can you believe how stupid these Mormons are?” Baddum-chee! Get the joke? We didn’t. Showing why something
is ridiculous is comedy, telling you it’s dumb is more of a soap-box lecture. People at the club paid for comedy, not a lesson
in religious beliefs punctuated with statements like “How dumb is that?” The letdown here is that
SFist
, like a lot of fans there, were hoping for the type of awkward comedy Cross does best, not the kind of bit you’d expect from
a talk radio show host.

It was surprising and a little confusing that a comedian of Cross’s stature and talent would spend so much time on pure vitriol.
Cross seemed to deflate some of the exuberance of the evening (which was buoyed by a strictly enforced two-drink minimum),
and the lag showed with paltry applause. Moreover, his bit seemed derivative of recent attacks on Mitt Romney’s candidacy
that have appeared in
Slate
and elsewhere, and which are based not on his political record so much as on his Mormonism (which is the way Cross began
his piece). The difference is that the
Slate
authors weren’t trying to be funny. Any religion, plus political aspirations on the part of one of its adherents, could equal
pure comedic gold, given a proper witty treatment. Sadly, Cross fell short of the task he set himself. Cross ended his piece
with “Mormons are F***ing idiots”—not one of the more socially tolerant statements we’ve ever heard. But hey, maybe nobody
told him it was Martin Luther King Day.

I promptly wrote back, which I rarely do because as we all know it’s a losing situation,
*
but I felt obligated to clear up this issue, since it lives on forever on the Internet and I don’t like being called a bigot.

Dear Emily,

I just read your review, and I would like to address a number of things that I find to be either disingenuous or just plain
wrong (sometimes mildly irresponsible, and other times so wrong it borders on libel). I won’t get into who had what kind of
set and argue about quantifying laughs and then the quality of said laughs, but I take great issue with your calling me a
bigot. You call me a bigot and then fail to represent truthfully what I said and ignore the context in which I said it, two
very important tools in comedy. And keep in mind that the set was taped. I have it all on tape. Every word, every laugh, every
pause, every quiet moment. Everything.

And Emily, if that was “the most blatant display of bigotry [you’ve] ever witnessed in person,” then you have lived a charmed
life, for sure. I think you are being hyperbolic and overdramatic, to say the least. While it’s true that I made fun of Mormons
and their beliefs, you completely ignored the context in which I did it. The
ENTIRE
premise of the piece was first prefaced (and this lasted over a minute) by saying that, should I ever choose to run for any
kind of office, that, no matter how many good ideas I might have to improve the quality of everyone’s life or implement a
universal health care plan etc., that I could never get elected because I am an atheist. For the simple fact that I don’t
believe in God, most people wouldn’t vote for me. I then brought up that Mitt Romney, a Mormon, had just announced his candidacy.
I
then
explained that a lot of pundits thought that his prior stance in support of gay marriage might turn voters away. Then I said,
“so his support of equal rights for all Americans would be the thing that made people suspicious of him, not his belief that . . .”
and here is where I described the story of Joseph Smith along with side commentary about the angels names sounding like they
were members of Sha Na Na, and comments about the Freemasons etc.

I appreciate your pointing out that there is a difference between making fun of something and attacking it, and that scientists
have discovered a fine line between the two, but when you go on to say that “the greatest cultural and religious satire takes
the beliefs held by a group of people and spins it to show the comedy inherent in those beliefs,” you imply that I didn’t
“spin” it or “show” it. I disagree with you, and my tape of the set and the laughs that I was receiving are evidence that
the audience (minus some, of course) disagreed with you as well. I can’t (nor should I ever) assume that each audience I ever
do that bit in front of is familiar with the
South Park
episode, the
Slate
article about Romney being Mormon (which I am not familiar with, but I would imagine any good journalist might find it to
be an interesting subject), or even the basic tenets and history of Mormonism itself. And looking over your review I notice
that I
did
in fact mention everything you cite as being so integral to the
South Park
episode.

To represent on this website that bit the way you do is damaging, if not worse. Emily, you can’t simply reduce everything
I said and its obvious (to most, at least) intent to merely a vitriolic, bigoted soap-box lecture wherein I just say, “This
is what Mormons believe. Aren’t they fucking idiots?” That is being either purposefully dishonest or at the very least lazy
and irresponsible. In addition, your numerous references to how poorly I was received seem put in there to bolster your position.
This just wasn’t the case. Again, the set and entire evening were taped. I have the proof on tape. You have your clearly biased
memory of events, which do not match reality.

Having said all that, I
do
think it’s astoundingly stupid and lazy to believe in Mormonism, given it and its founder’s history. I do agree with you,
though, that Paul F. Tompkins had the strongest set of the night.

Love,

David Cross

Hmm, that wasn’t very much about me at all, was it? What do you want, a memoir? Well, guess what …

My Memoir-to-Be

I
T’S FAR TOO EARLY FOR ME TO WRITE A MEMOIR
,
BUT BARRING A
premature death, I most likely will. I think it’s without arrogance or ego when I say that I’ve experienced enough interesting/scary/unique/thrilling/and
heartbreaking events to warrant my writing them down and you reading them. So for now I offer this sneak peak at some of the
episodes, all true, that will probably be featured in my memoir covering at least the first forty years:

  • Losing my virginity to a black prostitute in a stairwell on 46th and 9th Avenue in Times Square when I was eighteen.
  • Eating nothing but candy (Boston baked beans, to be exact) and chocolate powder mixed with water with my fantastically lazy
    and supremely irresponsible piece of useless shit of a dad in a tiny motel room/apartment in Scottsdale, Arizona, the summer
    I was fifteen. Needless to say, he never once found a job while I lived with him.
  • Fleeing the aforementioned motel room/apartment my dad and I were staying in to skip out on several months’ worth of rent
    that my dad got away with because he was fucking the alcoholic wife of the owner. This was just after hocking all my stuff,
    which barely amounted to anything.
  • Arriving back at Roswell in a driveaway truck with literally one nickel left.
  • Angrily/pathetically jerking off into a hole on a golf course near my apartment when I was sixteen.
  • Tripping on acid with two Turkish kids who were into trance music in the middle of nowhere in the middle of Turkey. Getting
    paranoid and ending up the next morning on a small boat that I wound up being on for the next four days with a bunch of Australian
    kids.
  • Being insulted by Elvis Costello backstage at a Clash concert in NYC that I miraculously got a backstage pass to while drunk
    off my ass on gin when I was eighteen.
  • Going to the Majestic in Atlanta for some late-night drunken eats by myself, and since the place was packed and there was
    one table open, asking the girl ahead of me if I could sit with her at her table. She said, and I quote, “Okay, as long as
    you don’t talk to me.” Fair enough, I told her and took a seat across from her. Twenty minutes later we were making out in
    the parking lot. I found out she was a school teacher who didn’t own a TV.
  • Having a car screech up to me and my friend Mark while standing at the end of a gravel road in the woods in north Georgia
    (home of
    Deliverance
    ) and the driver getting out, cocking a shotgun, and putting it to my chest saying, “What the hell y’all want?!!”
  • Shitting my pants while talking to Tenacious D five minutes before we were supposed to start a show that I was hosting.
    Literally, not figuratively. I knew them already.

All this and so much more, coming to a mom-and-pop Barnes & Noble near you soon!

A Free List of Quirks for Aspiring Independent Filmmakers

T
HIS IS A FREE AND PARTIAL LIST OF QUIRKY PERSONALITY TRAITS
, habits, or experiences for the next Diablo Cody, or Quentin Tarantino, or Miranda July, or Wes Anderson, or Jim Jarmusch,
or Jason Reitman, Tom DiCillo, or fill-in-the-blank independent filmmaker, to attribute to their characters in their next
film. I believe they are all worthy of inclusion. But be warned: do NOT try to use all of them in one movie! That would be
an extra-crazy mindfuck of quirkdom that would unfairly sweep the Independent Spirit Awards and possibly the Best Original
Screenplay Oscar!!

Born without eyelashes

Big toe bitten off by barracuda

Can’t whistle

Conceived during rape

Lived in Antartica for two years

Uncle invented Ziploc bags

Precociously inventive cook at age eleven

Was a baby model

Grandfather was black

Born without an anus

Has a prehensile tail

Raised by wolves

Drinks own urine

Can play the theremin

Raped by Catholic priest, now HIV positive

Speaks fluent Mandarin

Dad was a morning zoo DJ in Buffalo, NY, named “Doctor Fart”

Unknowingly the rightful heir to the Danish crown

Blew off three fingers playing with blasting caps when younger

Grew up in a suite in a fancy Las Vegas casino that Dad managed

Allergic to water

Suffers from a fear of children

Knew a soldier with AIDS who died in Iraq

Clinically dead for twenty-five seconds after a car accident as a child

Learned how to drive when eight years old

Great aunt makes homemade absinthe

Color blind, partially deaf, and can’t stop farting

Has agoraphobia

Kicked out of school for punching his/her teacher in the face

Plays the sousaphone

Plays the sousaphone in secret

Body uncontrollably gives off the odor of garlic

Allergic to pancakes

Triple-jointed

Once ate a dog on a dare

Into being peed on

Competed in the 2002 Winter Olympics

Disrupted the 2002 Winter Paralympics

Fucked Courtney Love

Was raped by Courtney Love

Has never eaten pie

Sister died in Hurricane Katrina

Was in a gay punk band in high school

Has a very valuable collection of presidential campaign buttons

Won a Clio award

Owns a Banksy

Has only one testicle

Left index finger is permanently fucked up because of a copy machine mishap

Retarded son is an idiot savant when it comes to astro-physics

Can swear in sign language

Was once on a plane that got hijacked to Sweden. Everyone was okay.

Was supposed to be on one of the 9/11 planes but overslept

Lost virginity to Mom’s friend, who many years later killed herself

Records every phone call, and has boxes and boxes of mini digital cassettes

Mom was a truck-stop prostitute

Has a fake kneecap

Speaks Gaelic

Can name every Carol Burnett sketch ever done

Uses a “hamburger” phone

Calls people “home skillet”

Drinks Sunny D straight from the jug

Never met a Jew

Has a third nipple

Can fart the alphabet

Went over Niagara Falls in a barrel

Knows Morse code

Great grandfather owned slaves

Once met Evel Knieval, who was mean to him

Grew up in a biosphere

Dad was a truck-stop prostitute

Dad was head of White Aryan Resistance

So poor once got only a package of Slim Jims for Christmas

Fucked a horse

Ate a tooth on a dare

Allergic to most shampoos

Has a condition called “sleepy eyes”

Has a condition called “weepy teeth”

Has a condition called “giggling ears”

Never seen
Star Wars

BOOK: I Drink for a Reason
8.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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