CHICKEN IN THE FOXHOUSE!

Imagine the audacity and recklessness demonstrated by Fox News when they dared to tread where Al Franken leaves his spoor.

The NYT is dutifully reproachful in reporting that “a made-up news article” appeared briefly on the Fox News Website. “Plenty of news media analysts thought John Kerry looked good at Thursday night’s presidential debate, but Fox News went a step further.”

Dear Lord! Is the Hoary Lady implying that Fox News thought John Kerry looked more than "good"? Did Fox blurt out that he looked “hot `n hunky”? Is Fox perverting the sacred task of news media analyst – conducting a serious discussion on appearance and grooming – and veering over the line into a full-on Queer Eye Man Crush?

No, my friend. Nothing so TV-ready as that.

Allegedly, the chief political correspondent at Fox, Carl Cameron, dared to spoof The Other JFK’s fussy self-absorption and preening by posting a satirical report under the banner Trail Tales – What’s That Face?

Was it wrong to pass it off as news? Sure. Was it mocking Kerry? Sure.

Was it funny? Er… no.

And Carl will pay the piper because the “report” was not funny enough. His half-hearted attempt at comedy fails to generate a yuk. The so-called fraudulent quotes are actually lame groaners.

Carl's What’s That Face? isn’t Franken-style bad comedy – that sophomoric display of pedantry and banal rudeness Al perfected to imitate comedians – it’s just predictable and toothless.
(BTW: Franken’s material, if performed by a 9-year old at a family gathering, would result in a time-out.)

Carl took a risk in attempting to leap from the Web newsroom to the comedy stage and fell, Evil Kneivel-like, just short of the Snake River spotlight.

As I posted yesterday, satire takes reality to absurdity through logical steps. And although Cameron was using reality and logic, he forgot the ultimate goal: you must arrive at absurdity. Kerry commenting on his nails is not absurd enough to distance itself from reality.

In fact, Kerry spent the day before the debate at the Bal Harbour resort spa with “a number of surprised women” putting the final pre-debate touches on his hair and nails.

That’s reality. Merely repeating it as absurdity gets you no laughs and an accusation of deliberate mis-reporting from a bunch of unamused colleagues.

And therein lies the problem for both the Left and the Right Media; at a time when we need to laugh more than ever, we’ve run out of reality to embellish and distort.

In a relatively sane world, Kerry’s Magic CIA hat would be hilarious, Dan Rather’s oblivious auto-da-fe would be the inspiration for a Cohen Brothers film, a presidential candidate sitting in a beauty salon primping for a debate would be a SNL skit (wasn’t it?) and kids would be Trick-or-Treating wearing Lurch masks Crayola’ed orange.

What killed the Fox comic jab was that it was inherently believable and tame.

That’s why the Kerry Campaign is sizzling and popping like a sausage in a campfire. It cuts too close to the truth and makes their guy look even more “minty.”

Like fools, Fox flak-catchers will bow their head in shame and accept a trip out to the journalist’s woodpile... to protect what? Credibility? Ratings? The Noble Tradition of News Media Analysts?

Nah. Apologists by definition must have no balls. The stockholders press them, like ruddy autumn leaves, into the pages of every annual report.

Carl should step forward, "do the man thing" and start with this:

“It was a gag, a spoof intended to provoke a laugh we all need, but it wasn’t funny enough.”

“The missing element in this election has been the ability to laugh at the natural inanities that crop up when ambition and hatred, fear and confusion, loyalty and greed collide. Our ability to respond to – and exhibit – a full range of human emotions is essential in maintaining our sanity.

"When there is no laughter, or worse, when the laughter is bitter and begrudged, we are unable to set aside the conflicts long enough to remember what we have in common.

“Admittedly, we have very little in common at this point in the election cycle. Which makes it all the more necessary to remember what it takes to be a great leader:

“Nicely groomed hair and nails…”

If Mr. Cameron would say something like this during his 15-second pop into the public eye, he may not be able to save his job as Chief Political Correspondent at Fox News...

...but he'd always has a place (unpaid) here at No More Suspenders.

Why This Blog Exists

Last week I responded to a request on Hugh Hewitt's site. He invited his readers who blog to send an email describing their blogging and book-buying habits.

I sent this:

Hugh,

I've revised my blog into a weekly, since I'm working big issues and personal perspective.

4+ hours during the weekdays, 6+ on the weekends, with @25% going into the Blog, 25% into reading and 50% into creative and development writing.

To staunch my wife's incessant chiding that "I need to get up and walk around once in a while," I've taken a day job and shoved writing to early mornings, nights and weekends.

Saw you at Borders, Denver where I buy whatever I can't grab through Amazon or B&N online.

I've written, produced and directed Video, TV, Theater, Film and Live performance pieces to great success but from here on out, I'm focused on Print and Blogosphere. (In the reviews, you'll see WinterSoldier - a huge production I produced in 1989 to refute Kerry's lies about me and my fellow Nam vets.)

I look forward to following you and your show as the Blogo walks rough-shod over the J-school intelligentsia.

No more suspenders...

M

Hugh sent back:

I hope your blog is named no more suspenders. That's brilliant. HH

I immediately jumped to Blogger and started No More Suspenders, using "Disestablishing the Established Media" as a subtitle,

I spent this past week working days in a telemarketing boiler room (a brain-deadening, between-projects job, but invaluable experience in winning people's trust over the phone in 6 seconds) At night, I went through my last decade of writings and contacts to find the right approach for NMS.

The first time I spoke the acronym I heard myself say "animus." A propitious coincidence considering my talents. So be it.

Last year, when I spoke with author Diane Ravitch - The Language Police: How Pressure Groups Restrict What Students Learn - I asked he how I could best apply my talents in comedy and media production to the task of routing the PC language cops. She said, "Mockery. Assail them with unrelenting ridicule and mockery."

I was working as a stand-up comic during the 1997 Oakland Unified School District's Ebonics Delirium. While other comics were using outrageous Ebonics constructions to get laughs, I took my regular tack on the ludicris (sic, sic, sic) by championing the moron POV.

Onstage, I indignantly defended the right of Black students to have English as a second language so they wouldn't feel inferior to Latino students. This absurd conceit took my audience inside the lunacity of crippling a child's education for the notion of equality. I then proposed that Asian children should be taught Asionics by having them adopt dubbed Kung Fu Film dialogue locutions and that upper middleclass white students should be forced to learn Honkyonics (which, sounded suspiciously like Al Gore after a double espresso and a bhong hit).

My intent was to "extend reality to absurdity by logical means." This approach makes the audience hear the premise concept with both sides of their brain and laughter - either relevatory or nervous - is the usual result. "The logical extension of reality to absurdity" is the functional definition of satire. It must be based in reality, procede logically and wind up at absurdity.

The reason comedy has become so extreme lately is because reality is becoming increasingly absurd, and this shortage of raw materials has shut down the comedy mills. Out-of-work comics are showing up as political Pun-Dits and Ditzes, by ignoring the Satire manufacturing process and spewing abject absurdities they pass off as truth.

Franken, Garofalo and other Liberal comics (a resounding majority of the Comic and Comedian Communities) are re-verse engineering their routines and the result is impossible to enjoy. Amazingly, this backward process produces exactly what one might expect: audiences who enjoy sharing a common hatred through derision and scorn.

It's as though a Steel Mill began melting down cars to make boxcars full of ore to satisy the miners. Bitter, hate-filled miners who resent the wealthy who can afford new cars.

If the person listening to satirical "dissonance" is emotionally attached to the premise, they may skip over the laughter prompt and move directly to umbrage. At that point they are juicy targets for the next level of comic absurdity and either they let go of their emotional attachment, fume in silence or heckle.

In any case, the comedian wins.

The convert joins the safety of the audience in laughter (and possibly sees his or her folly in a new light), the silent fumer drinks more or, in extreme resistence to the routine, heckles the comedian. In the back of the room, the club owner smiles as the waitresses shift into double-time.

Contrary to popular perception, a heckler is a force amplifier for a comedian and, once the loudmouth is identified and engaged, the audience is likely to turn their attention to the impending "duel."

If the comedian smartly hacks the heckler to ribbons, the audience cheers. If the heckler gives the comedian a spirited exchange the audience is still entertained while the comedian looks for a coup de grace line. Stock shut-down lines are known by every comedian, imagination and graphic imagery can send the audience into hysterics. ("Do I come down to the Bus Terminal Men's Room and bother you while you're working?" "Did you come here tonight with other members of your Group Home?" and "If I want anymore crap out of you, I'll squeeze your misshapen head.")

If the heckler loses the battle of wits but continues to interrupt, the audience invariably finds voice and shouts him or her down.

The outcome is always the same. The heckler must lose and the audience must be encouraged to continue their sense of unity. Communitas. Without this, the comedian is nothing, the message is forgotten and the audience does not get the comic communion and sense of refreshment that laughter with a crowd brings.

I can get audience to do this. And, thanks to Diane, I have a strategy.

This morning , I finished Hugh Hewitt's If It's Close They Can't Cheat.

Thank you Hugh, I now have a mission - and this blog is part of my plan.

So, before you read on, I suggest strongly that you read Hugh's book. Otherwise you'll miss the underlying concept behind the comedy on this Blog.