Roz Warren's Blog - Posts Tagged "comedy"
A Shocking Book Review
I HATE EVERYBODY… STARTING WITH ME: A SHOCKING BOOK REVIEW
Joan Rivers is a woman whose comfort zone is being outrageous. What reviewer in her fifties wouldn’t find that at least a little bit appealing? Growing up female in the middle of the last century, we were socialized to be nice, to be kind, to be supportive, and above all, not to make waves. There’s something compelling about a woman who took none of that to heart, whose basic attitude is “screw kindness” and who, instead, gleefully cuts loose with the venom. If venom is what you’re looking for, Rivers’ new book, “I Hate Everybody.. Starting with Me,“ won’t disappoint. It’s as offensive as it is funny.
“I Hate Everybody,“ in theory a compendium of everything Rivers despises, is really just an excuse to unleash a flood of new one-liners, jokes and heartfelt (and often heartless) kvetches. It’s nonstop schtick, running the gamut from clever, harmless fun (“I don’t know if the Ivory Coast has any actual ivory in it, but I respect it because it’s the only country named after two deodorant soaps.“) through derisive observation (“I hate people who can’t walk two blocks without drinking water. How thirsty can you be? Did you have a block of salt for lunch?“) and on to the truly tasteless. (“Every time I see some altacocker sitting at a card table hunching over and wheezing, I want to yell, “Get in the box Mildred! It’s time to get in the box!”)
There’s something shocking on every page. And something that will crack you up. Sometimes, it’s the same thing.
I love it when a joke offends me but is so undeniably funny I have to laugh anyway. It stretches my brain. It blows my mind. And it’s a Joan Rivers specialty. I couldn’t be more supportive of nursing in public yet I cracked a smile at: “Breast feeding is a natural body function? So is urinating, but do you want me to take a piss right here on the bus?”
Rivers makes fun of celebrities, the wealthy and anyone else who is smug and entitled. But she also mocks the handicapped, people with Downs Syndrome, Ann Frank, the elderly, and, of course, Jews. When she says she hates everyone, she means it. I’d planned to quote the book’s most offensive line, but so much of Joan’s wit is so ludicrously off-putting that I quickly gave up. There was just too much competition. I’m not easily offended and I was horrified by many of these jokes.
But I loved many more. A few of my favorites:
“I consider cooking to be one of the true wonders of the world, like the great pyramids of Giza or the Hanging Gardens of Babylon or the unexplained success of Carrot Top.”
“According to the New York Times, one teaspoon of sperm contains 148 calories, or, if you’re on Weight Watchers, two points.”
“A guy comes into my dressing room and says, ’I’d like you to meet my lady.’ I said, ’When were you knighted?’”
When a famous actors tells her that his wife, a vegan, doesn‘t eat anything with eyes, Joan responds: ”You must have a shitty sex life.”
Rivers is famously driven. But fame and success have failed to make her happy. In the book’s title she claims to hate herself and, reading it, you won’t doubt that for a moment. There’s always been a strong element of self loathing in her comedy. Her fearlessness and honesty may delight and refresh us, but hers is the wit of a bitter woman. She’s been funny for longer than almost anyone else is show business. She’s outlived most of the folks who have wronged her (which is something Rivers, an avid obituary reader, clearly relishes.) She’s worked tirelessly for everything she’s achieved, and it’s been an uphill battle all the way. You may find this book offensive. I know I did. But I have nothing but admiration for Rivers, if only because she tore up the “nice girl” rules most of us were raised with and wrote her own.
“I Hate Everybody” is a quick read. You can zip through it in a day. Shudder at the lines that offend you and snicker at the ones that amuse you. You’ll laugh! You’ll wince! And you’ll want to celebrate the fact that Rivers, still going strong at 79, excelling at a job she clearly loves, and continuing to rewrite the rules to suit herself, remains a role model for us all.
(This review first appeared on www.womensvoicesforchange.org.)
Joan Rivers is a woman whose comfort zone is being outrageous. What reviewer in her fifties wouldn’t find that at least a little bit appealing? Growing up female in the middle of the last century, we were socialized to be nice, to be kind, to be supportive, and above all, not to make waves. There’s something compelling about a woman who took none of that to heart, whose basic attitude is “screw kindness” and who, instead, gleefully cuts loose with the venom. If venom is what you’re looking for, Rivers’ new book, “I Hate Everybody.. Starting with Me,“ won’t disappoint. It’s as offensive as it is funny.
“I Hate Everybody,“ in theory a compendium of everything Rivers despises, is really just an excuse to unleash a flood of new one-liners, jokes and heartfelt (and often heartless) kvetches. It’s nonstop schtick, running the gamut from clever, harmless fun (“I don’t know if the Ivory Coast has any actual ivory in it, but I respect it because it’s the only country named after two deodorant soaps.“) through derisive observation (“I hate people who can’t walk two blocks without drinking water. How thirsty can you be? Did you have a block of salt for lunch?“) and on to the truly tasteless. (“Every time I see some altacocker sitting at a card table hunching over and wheezing, I want to yell, “Get in the box Mildred! It’s time to get in the box!”)
There’s something shocking on every page. And something that will crack you up. Sometimes, it’s the same thing.
I love it when a joke offends me but is so undeniably funny I have to laugh anyway. It stretches my brain. It blows my mind. And it’s a Joan Rivers specialty. I couldn’t be more supportive of nursing in public yet I cracked a smile at: “Breast feeding is a natural body function? So is urinating, but do you want me to take a piss right here on the bus?”
Rivers makes fun of celebrities, the wealthy and anyone else who is smug and entitled. But she also mocks the handicapped, people with Downs Syndrome, Ann Frank, the elderly, and, of course, Jews. When she says she hates everyone, she means it. I’d planned to quote the book’s most offensive line, but so much of Joan’s wit is so ludicrously off-putting that I quickly gave up. There was just too much competition. I’m not easily offended and I was horrified by many of these jokes.
But I loved many more. A few of my favorites:
“I consider cooking to be one of the true wonders of the world, like the great pyramids of Giza or the Hanging Gardens of Babylon or the unexplained success of Carrot Top.”
“According to the New York Times, one teaspoon of sperm contains 148 calories, or, if you’re on Weight Watchers, two points.”
“A guy comes into my dressing room and says, ’I’d like you to meet my lady.’ I said, ’When were you knighted?’”
When a famous actors tells her that his wife, a vegan, doesn‘t eat anything with eyes, Joan responds: ”You must have a shitty sex life.”
Rivers is famously driven. But fame and success have failed to make her happy. In the book’s title she claims to hate herself and, reading it, you won’t doubt that for a moment. There’s always been a strong element of self loathing in her comedy. Her fearlessness and honesty may delight and refresh us, but hers is the wit of a bitter woman. She’s been funny for longer than almost anyone else is show business. She’s outlived most of the folks who have wronged her (which is something Rivers, an avid obituary reader, clearly relishes.) She’s worked tirelessly for everything she’s achieved, and it’s been an uphill battle all the way. You may find this book offensive. I know I did. But I have nothing but admiration for Rivers, if only because she tore up the “nice girl” rules most of us were raised with and wrote her own.
“I Hate Everybody” is a quick read. You can zip through it in a day. Shudder at the lines that offend you and snicker at the ones that amuse you. You’ll laugh! You’ll wince! And you’ll want to celebrate the fact that Rivers, still going strong at 79, excelling at a job she clearly loves, and continuing to rewrite the rules to suit herself, remains a role model for us all.
(This review first appeared on www.womensvoicesforchange.org.)
Advice I'm Going To Ignore from "Life's Little Instruction Book"
Chop Your Own Firewood And Learn to Juggle: Advice I’m Going to Ignore From The Latest Edition of “Life’s Little Instruction Book.“
“Life’s Little Instruction Book,” first published in 1991 as a collection of advice from H. Jackson Brown, Jr. to his college-bound son, has sold millions of copies, been translated into 35 languages, and inspired calendars, posters, journals, greeting cards and screensavers.
Not surprisingly, it’s a very popular graduation gift.
The latest edition contains plenty of excellent counsel, like “Get a dog” and “Check hotel bills carefully for unexpected charges” along with some that are downright puzzling, like “Steer clear of restaurants that rotate” and “Never buy a beige car.” (What kind of awful early encounter with beige cars or rotating restaurants left Brown with this kind of lasting animus?)
Ironically, one piece of advice Brown gives us is “Never give a loved one a gift that suggests they need improvement.“
Uh… isn’t that this little gift book in a nutshell?
But who am I to argue with a dude who became a multi-millionaire by pithily telling other folks what to do? I’ve been telling other people how to live their lives for decades, and not only has it not brought me fame and riches, it has earned me a reputation for being a “smart-ass know-it-all.”
Although I’ll have no trouble following advice like “Never buy a beige car” (I may be a mild-mannered librarian, but I love my red Toyota.) there are some words of wisdom here that I plan to ignore:
Avoid sarcastic remarks.
Do 100 push-ups every day.
Get up 30 minutes earlier.
Never miss an opportunity to ride a roller coaster.
Learn a card trick.
Attend class reunions
Never use profanity.
Remember peoples’ names.
Learn how to fix a leaky toilet.
Never go to bed with dirty dishes in the sink.
Don’t gossip.
Try everything offered by supermarket demonstrators.
Read the Bible cover to cover.
Never eat the last cookie.
When attending meetings, sit in front.
Cut your own firewood.
Learn to juggle.
Don’t let anyone see you go back more than twice for the peeled shrimp.
Of course, I might be able to whittle this list down a bit, with some creative off-setting.
For instance, I’d be up for sitting in the front at meetings, if I can juggle and make sarcastic remarks.
And can I gossip about people as long as I correctly remember their names?
I have to admit that the challenge of doing card tricks on a roller coaster appeals to me.
Not to mention attempting to juggle while chopping firewood. (And - if I survive -- what a fun talent to show off at the next class reunion!)
On the other hand, some things are just non-starters. I am, by nature, a last-cookie-grabber. And after I’ve enjoyed that cookie, I’m going to put the plate it was served on in the sink with the other dirty dishes and go to bed.
But I’m guessing I could manage to rise from my bed 30 minutes early to do 100-push-ups or even fix the toilet, as long as I could employ plenty of profanity.
Anyway, as delightful as it is to dream up these little scenarios, now you’ll have to excuse me. I’m off to read the Bible cover to cover while gobbling peeled shrimp in a rotating restaurant.
(www.rosalindwarren.com)
“Life’s Little Instruction Book,” first published in 1991 as a collection of advice from H. Jackson Brown, Jr. to his college-bound son, has sold millions of copies, been translated into 35 languages, and inspired calendars, posters, journals, greeting cards and screensavers.
Not surprisingly, it’s a very popular graduation gift.
The latest edition contains plenty of excellent counsel, like “Get a dog” and “Check hotel bills carefully for unexpected charges” along with some that are downright puzzling, like “Steer clear of restaurants that rotate” and “Never buy a beige car.” (What kind of awful early encounter with beige cars or rotating restaurants left Brown with this kind of lasting animus?)
Ironically, one piece of advice Brown gives us is “Never give a loved one a gift that suggests they need improvement.“
Uh… isn’t that this little gift book in a nutshell?
But who am I to argue with a dude who became a multi-millionaire by pithily telling other folks what to do? I’ve been telling other people how to live their lives for decades, and not only has it not brought me fame and riches, it has earned me a reputation for being a “smart-ass know-it-all.”
Although I’ll have no trouble following advice like “Never buy a beige car” (I may be a mild-mannered librarian, but I love my red Toyota.) there are some words of wisdom here that I plan to ignore:
Avoid sarcastic remarks.
Do 100 push-ups every day.
Get up 30 minutes earlier.
Never miss an opportunity to ride a roller coaster.
Learn a card trick.
Attend class reunions
Never use profanity.
Remember peoples’ names.
Learn how to fix a leaky toilet.
Never go to bed with dirty dishes in the sink.
Don’t gossip.
Try everything offered by supermarket demonstrators.
Read the Bible cover to cover.
Never eat the last cookie.
When attending meetings, sit in front.
Cut your own firewood.
Learn to juggle.
Don’t let anyone see you go back more than twice for the peeled shrimp.
Of course, I might be able to whittle this list down a bit, with some creative off-setting.
For instance, I’d be up for sitting in the front at meetings, if I can juggle and make sarcastic remarks.
And can I gossip about people as long as I correctly remember their names?
I have to admit that the challenge of doing card tricks on a roller coaster appeals to me.
Not to mention attempting to juggle while chopping firewood. (And - if I survive -- what a fun talent to show off at the next class reunion!)
On the other hand, some things are just non-starters. I am, by nature, a last-cookie-grabber. And after I’ve enjoyed that cookie, I’m going to put the plate it was served on in the sink with the other dirty dishes and go to bed.
But I’m guessing I could manage to rise from my bed 30 minutes early to do 100-push-ups or even fix the toilet, as long as I could employ plenty of profanity.
Anyway, as delightful as it is to dream up these little scenarios, now you’ll have to excuse me. I’m off to read the Bible cover to cover while gobbling peeled shrimp in a rotating restaurant.
(www.rosalindwarren.com)
