Imaginary Stand up Comedy Monologue

Who the heck are you people? You know, you come out to a comedy club like Laughy’s, you pay good money, and you expect to see at least one comedian you recognize on the bill. One name you know.

You know what I’m talking about. What’s your name? Never heard of you. Who am I? Who are you? Didn’t you use to write for Mr. Show? No? Never mind. Yeah, I’m going to stick around after my set to see if that dirty hypnotist shows up. I don’t mean that guy with the schmutz on his face, but the guy who makes you take off your pants. And forget about it. Man, there are times I wish I could forget taking off my pants. Pants check! Thank you, god.

Speaking of hypnotists, is this a college? No? A university? No? Sheesh, I’ve been on the road a lot – you know, making the rounds – and after awhile, everything’s a blur. You see one college -- you see one beer-sticky, blackened, rat’s nest of a comedy club -- and you’ve seen them all. No kidding.

OK: Some questions. This is the audience participation part of the show where I like to get a sense of who’s not laughing at me. Ready? OK. What follows are some hypothetical questions. Actually, they’re totally thetical because I want you to answer them. Hold your hand up if your answer is yes, and put it down when it becomes no. OK? That was a test. No one held their hands up. OK? Much better. You can take them down now. Pop quiz, begin!

• How many of you are going or have gone to college?
  
• How many of you are going or have gone to community college? That’s cool: Horatio Alger went to community college. (I’m just going to use one tense now, answer as though I were asking about the past or the present, OK? Hey. Put your hands back down.)
  
• How many of you are going to beauty school?
  
• How many of you can draw Skippy the Turtle? (Good!)
  
• How many of you are graduates of the School of Hard Knocks?
  
• How many of you are so sick and tired of the fascists who run this place, with their hall passes and their closed campus, that you’re going to drop out, get a job at the cannery until you make enough to move out of your mom’s house and get a place of your own, and the GED can just work itself out? Because that’s all GED means, man: Got Everything Done.
  

Alright, you can put your hands down now. That helps me out a lot. We’ve got a lot of college graduates in the house. That’s cool: I is one, too. And you know what? When I was in college, I was in a lot of student groups. I’ve always had a lot of trouble with my self-identity and self-esteem unless I’m part of a group. When I was a teenager, I was in that group of people who liked to hang out with their friends and go to the movies. That was sure cool. Man, were there a lot of us!

Now that I’m older, things are harder. I’m a registered Democrat, but that’s sure not helping. When I was in college, everything was clear. There was even a hierarchy of student groups. A food chain. And sitting blissfully on the rung just above the bottom of the ladder were the Objectivists.

I have nothing against the Objectivists. After all, my favorite band is Rush. But really. If you’re going to name a philosophy, why name it something that people will be against? I object! And it wasn’t just the philosophy that had to have a funny name. No! Its founder had to, too. Ayn Rand. Not Ann, Ayn. What’s up with that? Why couldn’t you name your group something like the Campus Crusade for Christ? I mean, who doesn’t like dressing up like a knight and going to jousts? And that Jesus fella: He had a whole book written about him!

The only student group below the Objectivists where I went to school was the group of grubby Leftists who sold the People’s Weekly World outside the student center. Have you seen this paper? It’s great. The editors even admit that they’re not objective. They take sides: for truth and justice! That said, they’re decidedly Marxist. And at first I thought, “I’m down with that. Horse Feathers is hilarious! But it’s not that Marx.

No, their Marx is some Russian fella who believed that religion is the opiate of the masses. That the materialistic conception of history is flawed. And that true freedom would only occur if the working class revolted. Now there’s a happy camp.

I don’t have a problem with Marxism per se – after all, the working class is revolting; have you gone to McDonald’s lately? – but I do have a problem with just one thing:

They wanted me to buy their newspaper.

I like to think that Marx would hold that I should earn a number of papers in direct proportion to my productivity in society. But no, I had to buy it. If that’s not capitalism, I don’t know what is. I’d rather give my dollar to a homeless person.

In fact, here.

Go home.

Thank you. You’ve been a wonderful audience. Good night!