My stomach still hurts from laughing. This weekend I saw Doug Stanhope at the Trocadero theatre, and I got exactly what I asked for- raw truth and bitterness, served by a drunken lunatic.
Here are some of the thoughts I had when I first encountered his work, (from Alterati). They still hold true, and I'm not a fan of regurgitation:
"For years now, I’ve wondered who the next Bill Hicks was going to be. As things grew more and more grim, I wondered if maybe we would have no more ranting, fool messiahs, because the meter was just fucking broke and we’ve all become too whitebread and insecure to recognize the rallying call if it comes. “COMEDY IS DEAD, GO HOME, GAME OVER.”
There are times when being proven wrong is the best thing in the world. The other night I was stopped dead in my tracks by this man. He made me want to pick up three of the bad habits I’d managed to kick, and start up about twenty new ones. Most importantly, he made me laugh. A lot.
Really, we’re all laughing as Doug goes down like a screeching 747, and we will probably laugh when invariably it crashes and turns into flaming wreckage. Maybe it’s like the sacrifice that gets slaughtered every year so the crops can grow- more likely, we’re just laughing at a world that many times seems too fucked to do anything else with but laugh at it.
Society needs its “fool messiahs”, its jesters. Comedy allows us to express thoughts and feelings that might otherwise cause a lot of trouble. Consider what the Daily Show has done for, or to, news and journalism in general. Stephen Colbert lampooned the president to his face. Comedy gets written off because it’s half pretend, but oftentimes we forget that the things that make us laugh are the things that are true. Doug takes this process a step further though. With him, I don’t think there is actually any satire here. There is no ‘pretend.’ He gives it like he sees it at that particular moment in time. I imagine it might be somewhat alienating for those who don’t understand what’s going on, (arguably the title of his most recent DVD, No Refunds, has something to do with that.)
So, I acknowledge that there’s a fair chance you’re not going to be able to take this journey with me, and by the end of this article I’ll be figuratively standing in an empty hall, drunk and naked, ranting while riding a crack-whore bareback across the stage. (I guess in this fantasy I’m wearing a wireless mic.)
All the same that would at least leave me in the right frame of mind to enjoy Doug’s erudite body of work. So come with me on this one, or don’t. Either way- I think we’ve found this generation’s Bill Hicks. Enjoy it before he finds a nice hole in the ground."
He rightly predicted that many of us would go home and blog about the performance, and pre-emptively told us to fuck off. Which isn't to say he won't be ego googling himself at 2am and come here. So in deference to that, "Doug-- I'm sorry, but your reverse psychology worked. Here I am, like a tool, telling everyone to buy your shit because you told us all to fuck off. Honestly, I'm not sure which one of us is the tool here. But you'll get the royalties."
Fuck it. I'm not going to delve into critique. But I will give you a quick litmus test- if your insides shrivel in the presence of bullshit, if you think an ambien, vodka and mirapex binge in Vegas would be a fantastic time, if you are too smart to buy into the corporate brainwash, but too stupid or apathetic to create something better- then welcome! We can all laugh together as we float into oblivion.
Start with No Refunds. But don't end there. Go out, see him, and buy him a drink at the bar.
--James Curcio.
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