Laugh-In

"I KNOW WHY you're here," says the androgynous guy who I'm hoping that I didn't sleep with back when he was a woman. I thought I'd done a pretty good job of passing here at Town Hall, where a certain element has gotten together for an evening of leftist laffs. "The State of the Union" concert is sponsored by Mother Jones, and meant to raise funds for "a forthcoming independent media leadership conference." That's what passes as a good cause amongst the left nowadays.

I'm trying to fit in, right down to a dopey political button on my bag-although its plainly conservative message is "The Fonz for President." Maybe this particular s/he is unusually sharp. I was expecting more folks like the smiling schizo who's loitering amongst the crowd outside, peddling her pages of a scary scrawled rant.

I'm not sure about her politics until I try purchasing a sheet of her ramblings. "It's a dollar," she explains, "unless you're Jewish, and then it's $10." There's some insight into her political leanings. Sure enough, her scrawlings come with a single helpful orange highlight: "Public told me that 4,000 Jews did not show to work WTC Sept 11, 2001."

"Public" is probably shorthand for National Public Radio. Of course, not everyone here is obviously nuts. The only other hawker outside Town Hall is some guy asking people if they want to know more about Billionaires For Bush. I'm more interested in Millionaires for Kerry Who Want to Tax Thousandaires for Bush. In fact, that's the group we're all assembled to see tonight.

Well, there are at least two Millionaires for Kerry. Janeane Garofalo and Lizz Winstead are on the bill. I've already heard Garofalo complain about having to tolerate Bush supporters who can't afford to live in her building. As the departed co-creator of The Daily Show, Winstead should be enjoying a healthy income. They can both certainly afford to work for Air America.

I will now pretend to be a member of the media, and estimate attendance at Town Hall to be 500,000 people of every imaginable background. Never mind that nobody's blocking my view from the front rows. It's an unusual night, since I pride myself on never taking notes during a show. As a hostile witness, however, I feel obliged to be precise. I'm using this irritating pen that comes with a light at the end. Some film studio gave it to me under the assumption that I'm the kind of cretin who takes notes during movies.

It's not like I could possibly be the biggest douchebag in this audience. I don't even turn off my cellphone until opening comic Todd Barry is halfway through his act. He turns out to be both funny and non-partisan. I certainly can't argue with his suggestion to "legalize pot, but still throw potheads in prison." He also suggests the death penalty for white guys in dreadlocks.

Nobody jeers, either. That's pretty good for a humorless crowd. And by humorless, I mean a crowd where someone shouts "Boo!' when Barry mentions that he's from Florida. Then he gets away with mocking "Lick Bush" t-shirts in front of a crowd that's bought thousands.

Things will get less fun with Lizz Winstead. She's certainly the best thing the left has to offer in a quirky sex symbol. I'm just kind of hoping that she avoids politics. I like Lizz, although it's been 10 years since I've worked with her. That was back when we were all watching coverage of the Oklahoma City bombing. One hundred and sixty-eight people had just been murdered, and Janet Reno was on television addressing the nation. Lizz piped up to note, "Why is it when I look at that woman, the first word that comes to mind is 'wrap'?"

Let's assume Lizz brings that same level of analysis to Air America. I'm certainly not impressed with her political insights onstage. She announces that Republicans can't be "talking about jobs-there aren't any!" There's a debatable fun fact. Fortunately, Lizz is a lot more fun goofing on weird America. This allows her to recycle her Olestra routine from '96, along with a better bit about the mysteries of expensive yoga.

She's not afraid to use Russell Simmons as the punch line for that routine, either. Lizz doesn't have to be afraid of anything with this crowd. She scores one easy laugh by describing the Queer Eye for the Straight Guy gang as "five fags." You can't blame a gal for using the leftist sliding scale to her advantage.

Lizz really tends to create false outrages instead of veering from the truth. I'm mostly troubled by how she has to complain about the high cost of her pharmaceuticals. She's certainly done better for herself than I have over the years, and yet I can afford health insurance that makes dramatic reductions on any prescriptions. Call me, Lizz. I'll hook you up.

Bill Santiago takes the stage, and he's pretty funny for a guy spewing out lies. He could stand to tone it down, though. Diamanda Galas is now the second loudest act I've heard at Town Hall. It's interesting that a guy can be so clueless with such good timing. It's also kind of sad that Santiago will probably spend his career never knowing that Christians can really enjoy his shtick on the Ten Commandments.

Santiago mainly serves to demonstrate some perfect obliviousness. Mother Jones publisher Jay Harris certainly looks dopey introducing Santiago, as he pretends it's some kind of surprise that the comic used to be a reporter for the Washington Post. Santiago proceeds to sum up a perfect September 10 mentality, along with plenty of disdain for the American heartland.

He gets the audience roaring while talking about the idiocy of people looking out for suspicious crop-duster activity. Santiago finds it funny that there are people who know how to recognize a crop-duster. This leads to a joke about the hilarious notion that "terrorism is in our neighborhood."

On a personal note, my corner liquor store was once shut down after the owners were busted as international arms dealers. I had no idea. Actually, I did think it was a little weird for Muslims to be running a liquor store. Good thing I never reported that as a suspicious activity. Santiago and his audience would've called me a gullible racist extremist.

Things finally get grim as Village Voice cartoonist Ward Sutton shows up with a slide show. Never mind that the jokes elevate "Lick Bush" to an art form. The plodding presentation ends with some Flash animation of President Bush sending a plane into the World Trade Center. Then we're shown a comical "Wanted" poster for Osama bin Laden, who's presented as another victim of Bush policies.

There's much appreciative cheering from the crowd. As a result, I decide to hang around after the intermission. I'm curious if Will Durst will come onstage as scheduled. He used to be one of the left's more insightful comics. Durst seemed like a guy who'd leave in disgust after hearing a crowd applaud the unfair persecution of Osama bin Laden.

As it turns out, the Bush administration hasn't been kind to Durst. He comes out with a truly stale act. My first thought is that Durst's humor is another casualty of 9/11-but I think we've already trivialized that tragedy enough. Durst is really a victim of "the soft bigotry of lowered expectations." This audience will laugh at any lame joke with a Bush punch line. Durst hasn't come up with a decent gag since his line about Schwarzenegger's wedding being a plot to create a bulletproof Kennedy.

At least I finally get to see a black person arrive in the audience. They must have bussed him into the place. I decide to leave before Durst starts ranting about plastic turkeys. I head out past a table displaying copies of Mother Jones. A sign proudly declares the publication as "The Most Dangerous Magazine in America." Nobody can argue with that. What you don't know can definitely hurt you. o