Noah's Archetype

In the suburban swampland known as West Nyack, NY, a superstar-to-be graced a stage and spread his word to a congregation of people who flocked to this particular venue to assess the enigma for themselves. He emerged from the side of the stage, sporting a look that would make Cal Naughton Jr. proud, and a bright grin large enough to disarm even the most hostile audience member. He would open his mouth, and immediately the exotic South African accent he bears is evident to all in the theater. A South African flag is boldly elevated into the comedian's view off to my left. He notices, and responds to it how any native South African comedian who sees a bunch of likely Americans attention-whoring via national flag-waving: by jokingly chastising the assumed posers through the use of a friendly weirded-out routine. 

30 seconds into his set, Trevor Noah was already being put on the spot. His response had to be polite, funny, and politically correct all at the same time. Unfortunately for the dissenters, he was ready. Maybe not for this particular instance, but Noah seemed prepared for any challenge that could be thrown his way. After all, despite already being named to the position, the heir to the Daily Show throne had to go out on that stage, and all subsequent stages he'd be performing on until he takes his spot behind The Desk, and prove he deserves his job.

Social media has truly changed how opinions of people and events are formulated. I'm not disclosing anything revolutionary here, but it deserves to be reiterated. The insta-reaction world we live in discourages well-thought-out reactions to breaking news, whether it's a relatively trivial story, or if it's something that captures the attention of the nation, or the world for that matter. Ideas and opinions formed instantly don't contain the proper deliberation and context needed to properly address the latest media fodder.

As a result of the hot-take culture, the news of South African comedian Trevor Noah being named the successor to Jon Stewart as host of the satirical news program "The Daily Show" was met with wide-ranging, and mostly disapproving, fanfare. Off-hand remarks he made over 3 years ago on Twitter were instantly dissected and judged as sexist and anti-Semitic. Outrage over his selection only continued to build as negative reactions piled up. Before he even delivered his first punchline as anchor, Noah was somehow already a colossal failure as host of The Daily Show.

Those familiar with his work, like myself, were probably feeling a mix of elation that "our guy" has been rewarded for his relatively unnoticed talent, and surprise that he was actually chosen to deliver jokes about politicians, television personalities, and the other highfalutin figures of our society.

The reason I, for one, was fairly surprised that Noah was chosen was because the stand-up special of his that I watched, plus any other information I gathered on him, did not necessarily lead me to believe that he was a "Daily Show" kind of dude. He certainly was way off the radar of the various writers at different news outlets who were trying their respective hands at predicting Comedy Central's pick. SNL titans Tina Fey and Amy Poehler, while acknowledged by most to be unlikely choices, were quickly mentioned as logical fits. Others such as former Daily Show correspondent Jason Jones, as well as comedians Amy Schumer and Hannibal Burress, were also tossed around as possible selections. One-time stand-in host and unspoken host-in-waiting John Oliver is currently slaying the late-night satirical news game over at HBO on his show Last Week Tonight with John Oliver, so he wasn't going to be making any type of shocking return. Yet with all the names floating around the Internet, nowhere was there a writer putting in his 500 words to make the case for some light-skinned South African with the biblical name to be the next person making fun of everything Fox News says every Monday-Thursday.

Despite everything I just said, I eventually settled on a sense of excitement and satisfaction over Comedy Central's appointment of Noah. Unbeknownst to me at the time I first heard of the news, Noah actually had made 3 appearances as a correspondent on The Daily Show (my level of interest in the show has varied from casual to dedicated multiple times over the past couple years, but naturally the semi-shocking news of Stewart's retirement was going to get me fully invested again). 

Anyway, once I found out about this, I immediately went to watch them for myself, and the result was nothing but the reaffirmation of my previous thoughts. He was surprisingly, more so than his naming to the position, a natural. Albeit in a different role, Noah hit virtually every beat that veterans like the afore-mentioned Oliver and Jones, as well as others like Samantha Bee, Aasif Mandvi, and going way back, Stephen Colbert and Steve Carrell would hit. He was charming and hilarious in the same way he was in his stand-up act, yet he was able to transition it into more political material.

As I've been hinting at, his stand-up doesn't exactly lend itself to the brand of humor that The Daily Show typically employs. Noah's schtick early in his career as a comic was his desire to be black, as in "American black." This bit, along with his other muses on American society from his South African point of view, struck a chord with me immediately. I was enthralled by his ability to blend cultural critiques with smart, funny punchlines. Thinking back on it now, I'm not so sure why I was so blindsided by his promotion, as the previous sentence is a basic yet crucial skill in being a competent Daily Show host.

The announcement was made on March 30. Trevor Noah was performing at Levity Live comedy club in the Palisades Mall during the weekend of April 17-18. My dad, who happened to be a Noah fan despite me never recommending Noah to him, had the Saturday show marked as something he'd like to attend since it was released on the venue's website. He was able to secure tickets for the two of us prior to him being named host, so our excitement for the show was only heightened when we found out.

Upon arriving at the comedy club, there was a palpable buzz among the other people waiting outside. Everyone knew that we were very fortunate to be able to see such a (future) influential comedy figure in a suburban mall. I have no idea how many people there purchased their tickets solely off the name recognition from the news headlines, but I'm sure every single person there, true fan or not, was chomping at the bit to decide for themselves whether or not his prestigious career jump was warranted.

Quick note: Noah's opening act, current Daily Show writer and contributor Hasan Minhaj, was pretty damn hilarious in his own right. Minhaj, an seemingly first or second-generation Indian-American, had some truly great bits about how he is perceived as a divine entity whenever he returns to his family's hometown in India, including one joke where he introduces a cousin of his, ignorant to the fine pleasures of American sweets and, as a result, longing only for Hershey's chocolate, to nougat. Minhaj's delivery of the cousin's reaction (nougat? nougat! NOUGAAAAAAAAATTTTTTT!!!!!!) incited an explosion of laughter from the crowd. Be on the lookout for him as a rising star on the "Best F#@king News Team Ever" (the moniker for the collection of Daily Show correspondents).

Returning to the subject of this post, Trevor Noah's act was absolutely nothing like the hour special that endeared me to his comedy originally. That's not to say it was bad; in fact, I thought he was exceptional. I was LOL-ing the whole time, and by the end, I was convinced I could've sat and watched him perform for at least another hour, if not more. 

The overall quality of his show isn't what stuck out to me however. Instead, it was the topics he touched upon in his jokes. The overarching theme of his content signaled, at least in my mind, a comedian who was hyper-aware of the precarious situation his recent career move has placed him in. Obviously, I don't know whether or not he altered his set at all following his promotion, but one would have to assume he did after watching him that night.

The most prominent jokes he told involved white cop/black man interactions, ebola, and the ever-present threat of terrorism, which branched out into two separate ideas: the practice of profiling Middle Eastern people on airplanes and the Charlie Hedbo shooting. In the order that I listed these topics is the order in which the crowd's comfortability level went, in descending fashion. 

Police/black male relations have never been a more pressing issue than it has been in the past year, or at least since the aftermath of the Rodney King beating. Noah's willingness to share his experiences as a black man who is not entirely proficient in how he is supposed to act when pulled over was not line-crossing whatsoever. Like virtually all his jokes that night, they killed. With him hailing from Africa, ebola jokes were bound to come, and those were very solid as well. No problem there, but the hint of "Look at how I am opining about prominent societal issues in America" was certainly getting stronger.

(By the way, I'm not even bothering to paraphrase any jokes simply because I know they won't come off very funny as just words and out of context. Sorry, but it's for your own good. I don't want to make him seem not funny when I'm attempting to preach the opposite).

As he transitioned into the Charlie stuff, I began wondering how he was going to pull it off. The crowd seemed to mirror my sentiments, as early jokes were receiving very cautious laughter. He eventually settled into a nice rhythm, and as a good comedian will do, Noah eased the crowd and assured them that it's OK to laugh at the slightly controversial things he's saying.

Finally, the Middle East/airplane bit was pure gold. Noah revealed his secret for maximum confidence in not being the victim of a terrorist attack on your particular flight: Fly on a Middle Eastern airlines, such as Fly Emirates or Etihad Airways. Actually a pretty sound strategy right? He then went into a hilarious demonstration of how a non-terrorist Middle Eastern man would berate a terrorist into disarming himself by asserting, "We already know how great Allah is, there's no reason for you to blow this plane up to prove that." Yes, I'm aware I just tried re-creating a joke he told, which I said I wasn't going to do. To that, I respond with this.

I'm digressing. Also, I'm dragging this post on longer than it has to be. I generally don't like constructing non-organic endings to my writing, but to conclude my observations from my experience watching Trevor Noah perform stand-up under the specter of living up to the title "next host of The Daily Show", I'd just like to say that I was fascinated by the deliberateness of the Daily Show-ness of his jokes, almost like he was auditioning for a job he already had. More than anything, I hope everyone else in the audience that night came away as convinced as I was that he is the right man for the position, and that others can come around on him as well. He is an immense talent, and his best work is yet to come.

Thank you for hopefully reading every word up to this point. I will reward you by ending this post with a personal favorite moment from Jon Stewart on The Daily Show, a genius triple-edged slamming of not only Brian Williams and his recent exaggeration scandal, but also of the media's coverage of the  situation as well as its decade-long coverage of the Iraqi War. Some have noted that Stewart's performance has slipped in recent months, but he sure did bring his A-game for this one. Enjoy

A Public Service Announcement to the Few 10 AM'ers Still Out There

I really had no idea what I was doing when I started this blog. No knowledge of HTML or web design. No clue how I was going to be able to produce interesting content (for me to write and for you to read) each week. No concrete plan for how I was going to make my little ol' blog different or better than the thousands of sports and pop culture blogs out there. I was scared I didn't possess the talent and creativity required to convince people to read my words. I still am.

It's truly an interesting concept upon further thought. With every post I publish on here, I'm really just  casting out my line, hoping a fish or two will look at my bait and decide "That's my kind of bait." Since I don't fish at all I probably mangled that analogy, but the point (hopefully) is clear: I'm tasked with stimulating your mind enough that your brain will seek to continue to attain the source of the stimulation. I may be making this all seem more complicated than it is, but that's my thing. I overthink, I exaggerate, I make every trivial subject out to be the Cuban Missile Crisis in my head. This level of over-introspection and extreme self-awareness constantly leads me to deter myself from acting off instinct.

I started this blog because I have a passion for writing about, well, what I'm passionate about. That would be sports, music, maybe some TV shows and movies, and anything else I'm oddly interested in, like how my friends' gridiron abilities would be quantified in terms of Madden ratings. My passion for putting my thoughts into words extends to songwriting, a hobby that, despite genuine compliments I receive from people, I consistently self-sabotage because I put in my head that I'm not writing anything close to the poetry I'm hearing in my headphones.

My other cherished hobby, poker, may soon fall victim to that very fate, if that's even possible. Lately I've been watching A LOT of professional poker, and who knows, perhaps soon I won't even want to play with my friends any more because I'm not making reads as proficiently as Daniel Negreanu or Phil Hellmuth, or because I don't have the stones to make a bold pre-flop raise out of position like Tom Dwan. I will never even begin to ever attempt to live up to the gold standards those guys set in the game of poker, but if the thought ever creeps into my head, it can invade and conquer like 16th century Spain in Latin America.

What I'm really getting at is that I'm fully aware that I haven't posted anything since Selection Sunday, about 5 weeks ago. I think about it every day. It weighs on me like a digital pile of cinderblocks.

I easily could've whipped up a post about Duke's incredible run to a championship, but Mark Titus of Grantland said everything that could've been said, and he did it way better than I could've.

I could've written a post about the NBA MVP race (which I finally settled on Curry as my pick after months of being on #TeamBeard), but that was everyone's favorite topic to discuss and analyze. I decided there was no fresh take I could've provided.

I even could've wrote up something on the McDonald's All-American game, the pinnacle of high school basketball All-star games. I mean, recruiting is my thing in the world of sports. None of my friends rival my knowledge in that area, and I rarely even see college basketball and NBA writers delve into recruiting past a one-sentence mention. Yet, I didn't even watch the damn thing. I barely even perused the highlights.

So, what's my problem? Why can't I simply write? Well, at every turn, I doubt myself. I doubt the words that I type into my laptop, and I doubt that more than maybe 10 people are actually reading all of them. That last part is likely true. I've finally come to a point where I've accepted that. I'd be crazy to expect each of my blog posts to garner triple-digit unique readers who read and appreciate everything I write in my first 9 months of the site's launch. That's just not realistic.

Why even post anything if I'm not receiving any type of recognition for it, even if I enjoy writing most of them? That was my mindset, a toxic one to say the least. I retreated into a self-imposed exile all over the pessimistic and cowardly thoughts that rattled around in my head. An uptick in school work also contributed to my extended hiatus, but in no way am I passing that off as an acceptable excuse.

Just today, I was reading Bill Simmons' latest column, a rarity in these days. Now that's a guy with legitimate excuses to slack off in his writing. He's got an entire multi-platform website to run, along with an award-winning documentary series to executive-produce. If it sounds like I'm being sarcastic, I am most certainly not. I have idolized Mr. Simmons, along with a couple of the talented writers that he has hired, for years now. His personable writing style and willingness to address less-publicized topics in an entertaining and relatable way has captivated me from the very first column of his that I read.

I've always wondered how he developed his style, and how he reached the enviable, and well-deserved, perch he now sits on. I never sought his life story, because any magazine feature or Wikipedia entry likely wouldn't given me the proper gratification. Imagine how pleasantly surprised I was when, while reading Simmons' mailbag today, came across a link in the middle of it to a B.S. Report podcast he held 3 weeks ago in which he takes 40 minutes to detail his journey from wide-eyed college graduate to rising star in the ESPN machine.

At first glance, more than anything, I was stunned that I didn't see this when it originally went up on Grantland. I keep a firm look-out for new Simmons content, and I don't know how this one got past me. Anyway, I immediately listened to it, of course, and honestly, it may end up changing my life. At least I truly, truly hope it does. Simmons painstakingly described each professional phase of his life post-graudation. From Boston Herald lackey to part-time bartender to AOL upstart to ESPN's "Page 2", Simmons opened himself up completely to his loyal listeners in a truly admirable gesture from him to aspiring sports writers, or any young person who is struggling over whether to continue the pursuit of his/her dream or "give up" and settle for a less fulfilling occupation.

I swear I'm not an impressionable person. I don't really get inspired unless I come into contact with something I undeniably connect with on a extraordinary level. The overwhelming optimism and hope for a purely love-and-passion-filled life of J. Cole's 2014 Forest Hills Drive probably only rates like a 7 out of 10 on the scale that I just created that determines how inspired I get by something. Childish Gambino's astounding world creation/critique on modern human interaction otherwise known as Because the Internet generated a comparable level of inspiration.

In terms of resonating with the specific struggles I am currently dealing with pertaining to my future career, Simmons' 40-minute reminiscing session had an unparalleled effect on my psyche. His detailing of how he came to acquire each job was compelling, sure, but his final advice is what stuck with me the most:

"There's really no way to help anybody. There's no magic sentence to tell somebody. Really it comes down to 'Are you willing to outwork everybody else? Are you willing to do whatever it takes to get a chance? And if you get that chance, how hard are you gonna work once you get it?'"

I've always known this to be true. It's a quite generic and oft-repeated set of rhetorical questions that can be applied to almost any field. Yet, I heard them coming from one of my largest writing influences, the man who brought my absolute favorite website/sports and pop culture content provider into existence. Something just kinda went off inside me. Something long repressed and nearly forgotten.

Drive. Ambition. Fire. True Fucking PASSION.

In my twisted logic, I generally assumed that with a really good GPA, a degree from Temple University, and the writing talent that I know I have but don't often showcase, I'll land a job writing for Grantland, or a similar publication, within a couple years of graduation.

"Yeah, I know I won't get it right out of college. But I'll get there soon enough. What could stop me?"

Myself, that's what. I never really possessed the right work ethic. I'm lazy, I'm a know-it-all, I'm apprehensive and prone to second-guessing. I may never overcome any of those deficiencies.

After hearing Simmons' advice, though, I realized that I can still make something of myself. Through all my difficulties, I've surprisingly never lost confidence in my ability to write. Sure, I'm not good enough at this very moment to start working for Grantland or a newspaper or anywhere really, but I have a knack for this that is readily apparent in the projects that I pour my heart into. I'm going to continue to improve and hone my skills, because that's what any other 18-year-old would do.

From now on, however, I'm going to work harder than any other 18-year-old, though. There's no way to quantify this (which is something I'm going to have to repeatedly remind myself), so basically it's all on me. I'm up for the challenge, because there's no one I'd rather bet on than myself.

This doesn't necessarily mean I'm going to start posting every day, or spend every hour of free time I have working on my blog. I'm still going to enjoy my hobbies, like songwriting and poker, as well as watch all the sports, TV shows, and movies I usually do. However, I believe that I'm finally ready and willing to put in the work necessary to reach the professional success I envision for myself.

Regular blog posts will resume starting tomorrow, with a post about my recent experience at a Trevor Noah (the next host of The Daily Show) stand-up show and how he used his act to retroactively audition for the job he already has. That may have sounded confusing, so be sure to read the post to gain clarification.

But for right now, I'm going to watch my Yankees hopefully end the Mets' 11-game winning streak, because I'm an 18-year-old kid who enjoys sports more than almost anything in this world. Just don't say I don't work hard enough from now on simply because I decided to watch sports rather than write about them.

To the few 10 AM'ers I may have, thanks for reading. You guys are the real MVP.