Comedians = Essayists??

Back in school, teachers make kids write hundreds of essays every year and the smarter kids say, "It’s not that we don't want to write an essay, but that we're trying to save the Rain Forests and writing essays wastes too much paper." It's the common response of a teenager, the excuse. Most kids and adults for that matter would rather be out destroying their brain in some fashion then using it to write some vapid essay.

When we observe life, however, no matter how much you hate the organization and form of the common essay, it is just as omnipresent as god. When you're in a business, you use it to write reports; when you're the entrepreneur; you use it to write business plans; when you are the scientist, reports; the janitor, perhaps a resume. The point is: we all use the essay, no matter who we are. The specific example of this article is one that no one expects to see a good essayist partake in: comedy.

Any good comedian boasts their laziness and after watching Comedy Central stand up for the entirety of a day, you will not find any comedian who says, "I wake up every day and say, gee golly what an organized person I am!" It doesn't happen because that's not funny. In most cases that's probably the thing people are trying to escape from by watching Comedy Central but comedians do use the essay form and to be a great comedian one must see that there is structure and form to making people laugh.

Out of the 600 channels you get at home, you can watch their style and it is very obvious with some, such as new comers on "Comedy Central Presents..." and incredibly hidden with others, such as the talented veteran, Robyn Williams. Even satellite radio has realized the need for comedy in this country and put them in their arsenal as well.

The point of mentioning all these different places is that they all tend to vary in their comedic style but they all have one commonality amongst them: they all run their act in an essay form.

The essay of the comedian revolves around the punch line and that punch line becomes our thesis. Before the punch line however, you must have an introduction so a introduction with a punch line thesis might look like this:

(A very tired looking man walks out on stage and sits down in a chair)
Comedian:
You ever been to your grandparents house (pauses, looks down and holds fist in front of his mouth as he coughs out) After they've gotten really old? Well I live in a very Italian family so I got an angry granny who doesn't know my name and when my cat died, I told her first and she says, "fugghet about it."

This is the introduction and punch line but to make it an "act" we have to use that punch line again, so you have a second bit that goes on for a while about something completely different and then ends with a joke about "fugghet about it." If it went on a tangent about sports, it could end with this line:

So, you seen the Mets’ pitching this year? (Pauses and smiles at the audience with pride) it's awful! What are you clapping about? You think they'll make it to the Pennant? Maybe? Huh, huh, huh? If only the Mets could win the Pennant, I could get my daddy back! And there'll be Angels in the outfield and we can all have Danny Glover be our best friend! (Quick pause for laughter then with vicious sarcasm through a smile: "Fugghet about it."

They can have as many topics as they want mixed in there, some with, and some without the punch line incorporated but most of the time, a comedian will leave with his punch line, taking his audience for one final ride. There's never any explanation afterwards, just a sharp ending that keeps them in shock, a little like this:

So the other day I go walking down the streets of New York and I see this big burly guy walking toward me looking like Tony Soprano; he's probably got a gun somewhere in his pants because I know my kind and that guy may be lucky but he's no Peter North. He comes up to me and I say, "Are you selling flowers sir?" (Leans into the mic and cups it and says in a deep, mafia voice) "Fugghet about it."

The unintentional superhero and me, world renown shapeshifters By: Dylan Paul

He smokes a cigarette outside on his stoop and looks off into the night.

"You know what I think?" He says, "I think everybody in this entire world, should live life like an RPG (Role Playing Game)."

In the fixed mind of my superhero, he sees himself as the rogue and I can see it too. In his dreams I imagine him running up to some horrible monster and spilling its guts out with an eviserate attack, his shimmering daggers stained with the purple monster goo of freedom.

I call him the unintentional hero because sometimes, I think he can also see himself is such a quest. His stealthy gear making him look like the buccaneer from hell.

Lately, I grow more concerned because time seems to weigh heavy on our lives with the continually moving battle of age and as I look at my superhero, he seems to be never discouraged or crestfallen or worried about such things as time or money or adventure because all the adventure he needs is right within his own skull and crossbones.

Our adventures have been diverse from fighting on the fields of battle where two towns made of sticks and twine destroyed each other, to the ocean depths in a pool out back to a time when sea foxes ruled the sea and played happilly with each other as otters. Once we were racoons, another time, elves; we even managed to fly to Hollywood, in one night, and visit both Tim Burton and Stephen Spielberg and see their magnificent theme park houses and be back before first dawn. More recently though, the battles have grown bigger and more real but the war is being won.

As he sits there on his stoop and takes the last puff of his cigarette, I am reminded of how we indeed have lived our lives as an RPG. However, in my mind, we are far more than rogues or magicians (in the making of our lives there are things that seemed magical) but rather a new class, something that changes day by day, we are the shapeshifters, unintentional heroes fighting in a world that most people may never get to see. Our exploits are diverse and publish more stories than one reporter can tell in a day, or a short collumn for that matter, but as he puts out his cigarrette and says, "peace dude, I'll see you tomorrow," I can see the rogues cloak as he shuts the door; the sea fox tail wiggle as he walks away; the unintentional superhero who could exist in any person but one rose to meet the chalange. I see my best friend and someone who I can call brother walking away to fight the good fight. In reality, I hope he wins as much as the superhero that I know him to be.