The H Word

I’ve been an open-mic/free show/alt venue/barking veteran for two years and this just dawned on me today: I am a bona fide Class A hater. Whenever I leave a comedy venue, I take the Hateration Express to my apartment in Hatelem, go to my refridgerhater, microwave some hater tots, sip on some Hatessy and start hating. Then when my electrolytes are out of balance, I get a tall glass of Haterade and continue hating. Then when I think I’m done, I crack open my hatesaurus so I can find new words to use for my hate-tirade. And right before I pass out from all the haterology, I say a prayer to Hatey McHaterson, god of all hate. I. Hate. Too. Much.

When I first started, I thought comedy was about love. I had a whole Rhoda meets Cheers fantasy where I’d meet some nice people in hip threads and throw my hat in the air a lot and have wacky hijinks involving jukeboxes and saving bars from closing down. And I was warned that comedy would be hard. I heard people say “Comedy is lonely and bitter and difficult. You will see things that will piss you off. It’s not a brotherhood [sisterhood? bristerhood?]” I remember hearing comedians talk smack and I'd go, "WTF? How can you be such a hater?" THeir response: "You'll see."

I do now; I too have become that guy. If someone gets a 5 second talking head spot on VH1, it’s “Who’s dick did he suck?” If someone gets a free club spot: “If she wasn’t friends with the producer, she wouldn’t have got that spot either.” If someone gets a small-venue spot that pays $50: “I bet the owner only auditioned 3 people. If I were there, I would have snatched that spot.”

The reason I’m having a crisis is because I’m afraid of becoming a Hypocrisy Hater. These are the haters who you see talking so much shit about a comic that they need a breath mint after they’re done spewing. But when the “hated” comes into view, the tune changes. Ex: “Who the hell is this asshole? How the hell did he get a spot? I can’t believe people think his shit is funny. I bet a retarded monkey wrote his jokes.” [Hated walks in] “Oh my God! Hi, how are you? It’s been sooo long. I saw your spot on MTV. How was that? Are you still in touch with the producers? Are you doing any shows I can be a part of?” [Cue sucking and slurping noises].

I was talking to my non-comic friend about this and he was the one who pointed out my change in character. I became that aggressive spot-chaser who doesn’t slow down to appreciate what he has and what he can do with what he has. I became that person who has to spit barbs to stay on top. And that’s not me. Rather, that shouldn’t be me. Comedy…hell entertainment in general shouldn’t do that to me.

I started listening to myself when my hater-herpes is flaring and I realized: How is this helping me? How is this healthy? I spend more time hating on people than I do working on my own act. I cough up all this venom and yet all it does is poison me. Perhaps the questions I should ask are “How did he/she hear about these spots? Did you get it through an agent? Do you have any advice for someone who’s un-agented?”

So, this is me making a conscious effort to purge myself of the bile and start being positive. If I have nothing nice to say, I won’t say anything at all... Okay that’s a bit much. How about this: I promise I won’t say anything about anyone’s mama. What? – I can’t just quit cold turkey!

[PS: Watch me renege on this idea in 3 months. But I swear to you, concerted effort!]