“Comedy has changed so much since then; it has become unrecognizable since I first began interviewing her in 2016. It has gone from being a variety of ways to tickle a person — real life, funny because it’s true, ironic funny, deadpan funny, parody funny, no-duh funny, slapstick, farce, absurdity, pratfalls, a real variety — to merely, glumly reflecting what a terrible world this has become. It is purely reactive.”

 ~ Taffy Brodesser-Ackner, NYT, Oct. 17, 2018, This Melissa McCarthy Story Just Might (Maybe? Possibly?) Cheer You Up

 

I do a lot of writing about how I can’t write. I’m tired of me, too. The last couple of years have been kind of illuminating for me, in that the more I get to know myself, and the more I reflect upon all that has happened on the way to this point, the less I like me. And I found myself looking at things that I have written and silently wondering how much of it is bullshit. How long, were I to publish the ones that I choose to discard, before someone I know and care about, or that I don’t, points my own character flaws out to me.

For example, yesterday’s repost of Hooker Boots and Cinnamon Sticks.

I liked that post when I first wrote it – I still like it. But I find myself tearing it apart in a storm of judgement of my own character and writing skill, following by internal eye-rolling at the size that my ego must be to think that any of it matters.

Someone told me I was too self-aware.

How…how do you become less self aware without becoming more self aware? How do you stop thinking about something that you have to consciously stop thinking about to stop thinking about it?

I just realized that beautiful quote at the beginning has fuck-all to do with what I am writing now. Here’s another one:

“Don’t be so humble; you are not that great.” – Golda Meier

Humor and analysis are natural enemies – if you don’t believe me, try the old “explain why a joke is funny” trick. With the exception of satire, which to an extent thrives on analysis, humor dies under a microscope.

I am, right now, googling that to see who doesn’t agree with me.

It’s like I have to find a way to write without reading myself.

That’s it – I’m late so Ima cut this short and find something more interesting for tomorrow.

 

 

 

 

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