This is it, People.
It’s finally here. American Authoritarianism with a fully functioning fascist cultural apparatus.
We did it. It took us about 250 years but, we did it.
I’m not sure which was more horrendous and damning, the deployment of troops to LA or the bombing of Iran, but they are of a kind. Orders of a leader who cares nothing for the people of the country and is autocratically creating a government that serves only his whims and power. This is at the cost of democracy and feeds the fire of inhumanity for his myopic, brutal and dangerous followers.
We get to live in real fear all the time now. Not made up or generated internally but actual terror of our government and our fellow Americans.
Sorry, don’t want to be grim but…
The unconstitutional attack of Iran and LA will put in place the machinery to make this a military dictatorship.
I hope all those people that voted for this passively and based in emotions are happy and proud of the America we are becoming, where pain feeds their excitement and corruption and moral bankruptcy become their proud, day-to-day way of moving through the world.
I hope all the ‘anti-woke’ comics are happy about pushing this all through. The big question is when will they shut up about trans people, intellectually challenged people, immigrants, the disabled and minorities. I mean, they won. The policies they were supporting (whether they knew it or not) are happening. All the language and law that protected the vulnerable and marginalized and gave them a leg up have been destroyed. History is being erased and rewritten to support Christian Nationalism. Creativity, tolerance and the path to equality squashed.
I hope it was all worth it so you can say the R-word again. I hope you are proud that all the policies you were championing are happening. I hope you can now stop playing the victim and just enjoy the amazing lack of diversity and diminishment of human rights and collective fear you have supported, because it’s here.
I assume you will just keep at it. It’s one thing to mock the weak and another thing to celebrate their pain and deaths. I assume you have nothing else. Now that what made you has become hack you can just go back to the standard hack model.
On another note, I watched a final cut of the film In Memoriam in which I play the lead. I did good. I’m okay with it. It’s a very emotionally charged movie, very human. I guess many of the projects I’m involved with coming out this year are like that. I think I’m ok with that. The simplicity of human emotions and struggle. Stick may not be art but it might be what we need. I’m not big on talking about ‘storytelling’ but I’m not sure there is another way to get back to what makes us human. The good parts of it, anyway.
I don’t think people sit with each other and just be in the struggle that we all share, in all its nuance and variation.
So, storytelling in the form of film or television or theater that is crafted to explore the struggle in a relatively honest way is necessary now.
Today I talk to Jordan Klepper about the MAGA youth and many other things. On Thursday I talk to comedian Rich Aronovitch about sobriety and the insanity of being who were are. Great talks!
Enjoy!
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
Love,
Maron
A Life Sentence.
New York City, People!
I’m flying back from NYC right now. Outside of a few minor bumps it was a great trip.
I have to be honest, I love doing Jimmy Fallon’s show. Being a panel guest was such an important part of my life for so long when I was coming up and I hardly do it anymore. I’m not talking about guesting on a podcast. I’m talking about being a guest on The Tonight Show. I know it doesn’t mean what it used to and the media landscape is a scattered shit show but the context is still what it is and I think Jimmy is a good host. He’s a good audience. He’s in it. It was fun.
It was like the old days but I am older and many fewer fucks are given. Probably almost all the fucks. Easier to enjoy it.
The screening of the documentary about me ‘Are We Good?’ went well. It was the second time I’ve seen it in front of an audience. It went over great. Which means, to me, it got laughs in the funny places and feels in the feely places. I want to thank everyone who came out.
Tracy Letts moderated a conversation with me and Steve Feinartz, the director. That was amazing. Talking to Tracy in any situation is amazing. He had a totally unique point of view about what the film was about. The assumption, and it wouldn’t be a wrong one, is that it’s about processing grief. Me processing grief, which includes doing comedy about it.
Tracy thought the film was about work. The work. Of an artist.
I rarely call myself that or see myself that way. I guess I know I am one but it seems to be pretentious to call myself one. I’ve always felt that. I’d rather just go with comic.
But looking at the doc as a film about work was helpful to me in reframing my life. My work is how I process everything. Whether it’s on the podcast or on the stage. My life, certainly up to this point, has been about processing it through my work. The work is kind of my life to the point that I don’t live a full life. There are other reasons for that but those are also what I process in the work. I put it all out there.
It’s like the reality of my life is a panicky farce and the work gives it definition and attempts to make it relatable as I work it out. Make it real. Put it out there.
Is that, or has that been, a full life? It is a life full of something but all this sharing of it is a bit depleting. Because the sharing of it is the work and the work leaves me chronically exposed and then I have to incorporate that into how I live. It starts eating itself and stagnates the life I’m living and I’m running out of time.
So, the only choice I have after 61 years is to accept what I have called a life and try to live it differently if that will bring me some peace.
Ease up on the panic, the compulsivity, the urgency, the anger. Find some space and be who I am now and see where that takes me creatively. I have no idea how to create outside myself. I am the center and project of the creation. I have to find another place to come from or at least a way that is not directly attached to my mind constantly reflecting on itself.
I’m not sure I’m even making sense but some new vision has been opened by looking at the film the way Tracy saw it. There’s a bit of sadness to it. Being self-condemned to the creative work. And that’s a life sentence it seems.
I’d say the highpoint of the trip was going to the Museum of Natural History in NYC with Kit. She had never been there. I hadn’t been there since I was a kid. When we decided to go I just couldn’t wait to see that Blue Whale. That feeling of walking into that room with that giant model does not disappoint. It was just as exciting as it ever was. Looking into that Squid and Whale diorama and feeling that same haunted vibe that I did as a kid and realizing why it's never left. Finding myself lit up by all the dinosaur bones and realizing that I am, and always have been, a Triceratops guy.
Good trip.
Today I talk to Cristin Milioti, a truly great actress. On Thursday I talk to the very singular and funny Megan Stalter. Great talks.
Enjoy!
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
Love,
Maron
Ride That Mystical Bus.
Mystical, People.
Again, I must say that I am humbled by all the emails and DMs of appreciation and personal stories about the show’s impact on your lives. It all means so much to me as I try to wrap my head around what I have done in the last 16 years.
I am grateful. I have to tell myself that often. It is not a feeling I sit in naturally. I rarely acknowledge it. I should. It is grounding and enables me to maybe appreciate the life I’ve lived and survived.
I tend to blow right through things. Just keep moving. Doing what’s in front of me. Staying engaged in whatever it is no matter how mundane. I put a lot of pressure on myself always with all things. All in, all the time. Just moving from thing to thing. In the world, or in my head. No downtime. No pause. Limited gratitude. I do feel the buzz of completing things and getting through them and enjoy the release of the cortisol and rush of achievement but I don’t really settle, live life. Appreciate it. Be grateful.
My brain tends to go to anger a bit. Which I haven’t really experienced in a while. I’m not sure there is such a thing as angry gratitude. I think that’s conflating the last step of moving toward humility with the goal of it. Just to be grateful.
I think of my life, what got me here, all the people that misunderstood me or made it difficult for me to succeed, didn’t believe in me. From where I am now, there’s still a bit of ‘fuck them’ in my gratitude. A sense of winning. Then I realize that I was never really competing, I just wanted to be in the game. Actually, preferably, on a field adjacent to the main field.
The winning was just me arriving at me and working from that place and somehow succeeding. It doesn’t have to be rooted in any kind of fuck you but that comes and goes. I guess that’s just human.
The mystical. I recently went on Andy Richter’s podcast and he got me talking about back in the day. The Comedy Store, cocaine, Kinison. It has been a while since I traversed those neural pathways and I guess with the portal opened I went a little out there.
I had some kind of revelation that is only relative to my mind at that time. Many of you know the story. I documented my journey into cocaine psychosis thoroughly in my book The Jerusalem Syndrome.
When I was at The Comedy Store losing my mind I was one with the place. I was all in. I lived there. I was a true believer in the power of the place and the system Mitzi Shore had created. I always felt there was a dark energy there that went back to the beginning of modern show business. My mind was generating its own mythos about good and evil and the place that Mitzi, with all her mystical powers, was overseeing. I believed that the beginning of the apocalypse would start in Hollywood. I had full concepts of how. I believed I was in a struggle between good and evil that was universal and my time spent there with Kinison, a true power of megalomaniacal darkness, was informing my prophecy in progress. All I knew, in my psychotic state, was that Mitzi, The Comedy Store, and some of the comics that came out of there were essential in the final unfolding. Crazy, right? But…
The two people that revolutionized the podcast medium and unleashed its potential on the world were me and Rogan. Both of us of products of The Comedy Store and Mitzi’s system.
Do with that what you will. It was fun to ride that mystical bus for a few hours.
Today I talk to Seth Meyers. Great guy, great talk. On Thursday I talk to Mike Birbiglia again. Also a great talk.
Enjoy!
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live,
Love,
Maron
Big News.
The time has come, People!
All good things must come to an end. The end is nigh for most things, generally speaking, but more specifically, the end of the WTF podcast is coming in the fall.
I know it will be jarring for many of you. It’s a bit difficult for me. It is time though.
Brendan and I had an understanding that the only reason we would stop the show was if one of us was ready to stop. So, that happened, for both of us.
We’re tired, people. Burnt out.
As of September we will have been doing the show for 16 years. Wow. That’s a long time to do anything. We have put a new show out twice a week for 16 years and we’ve put everything we have into those shows. That’s just the way we work. We have since the beginning and it’s always been just us. Obviously, we had help along the way, but in terms of creating the show Brendan does his job, I do mine. No networks, no boss. Just us and hundreds of guests and you.
I know you might think, ‘How hard can it be to record a conversation?’ But reflect on why you listen. There’s a lot that goes into each show that makes it great. We are workaholics and meticulous about the quality of the show. Editing, music, engagement, remaining all in and interested.
Both of us are tired. We’ve done great work. There’s absolutely no reason to just keep plugging along because we can. It’s okay for things to end. We’ve been very fortunate to do things exactly how we wanted to do them, all on our terms. We started the show on our terms and we are ending the show on our terms.
My gratitude for all of you listeners is big. We’ve been through a lot together. I hear from so many of you that I helped you through hard times, cultural changes, sobriety, depression, fear. Some of you have grown up listening to me by now. Some of you started listening because your parents listened in the car. Some of you just started listening. The good news for newbies is there’s plenty to catch up on.
I want you all to know that I appreciate deeply that you were all there for me as well. You changed my life in so many ways. You helped me through so much.
WTF was there at the beginning of the podcast invasion. We weren’t the first, but in terms of making it a viable medium we were certainly one of the OGs. We changed the world, literally. We showed the world that it was possible to create a specific type of show on one’s own terms. We helped unleash an exciting type of delivery system for pure self expression. Sadly, on some level, we also unleashed a format that can be used for dubious means, propaganda and pure evil. But hey, it’s not the atomic bomb.
I’ll be around. I’m looking forward to these fun and full months of final shows. I’ll be doing my standup, acting and hopefully enjoying life a bit. I’ve earned that.
So, that’s the big news. I’m sure we’ll talk about it in the weeks to come but for now, thank you all for being here.
Today I talk to John Mulaney. He’ll be the first guest to know. On Thursday I talk to Josh Homme again. Heavy dude. Great talks.
Enjoy!
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
Love,
Maron
A Mild Humming.
Genius, Folks.
It's been a couple weeks since I shot my special. It didn’t take long for me to get back up on stage. It was literally a few days. It’s what I do. It’s kind of like eating or working out. I go up on stage.
Some part of me thinks I should give it a rest. Turn down the burners. Take life in. Settle into my brain. Assess.
The medication I’ve been on seems to be working subtly. I believe there is a baseline of anxiety that percolates beneath the frequency of my brain just moving through life. It’s own vibration. It’s always been there. If I notice anything about the effect of the medicine it's that the baseline seems to be a mild humming as opposed to crackling ember.
It’s a relief. A subtle relief. It seems to be winding down the fear engine.
I’m trying to let new things into my head. I’m watching a lot of stuff on the television. I don’t do YouTube. I’m old school. I mean, streamers are television, right?
I’m very reluctant to be too celebratory of other people’s work who are in the same business as me sometimes. I think it's primarily because I am a somewhat insecure, resentful, envious person. Some of that has faded with age and I believe some of it is maintained by the anxiety engine which is muted by medicine.
That said, I can’t seem to shut up about the new season of Nathan Fielder’s ‘The Rehearsal.’ I’ve always been a bit judgmental of him. He annoys me. Also, he doesn’t ever come on the show. I don’t love a lot of the stuff he’s produced but not because it’s bad, I just never quite locked in with it. Until the last episode of ‘The Curse.’ Which kind of blew my mind and I realized that he was possessed with some kind of alien creativity that comes from a unique, rare mixture of commitment to personal vision and true weird inspiration.
I had watched the first season of ‘The Rehearsal’ which I thought was totally unique and wild. It didn’t stay with me. This new season is sticking in my brain both for the conceit of the show, the theme of the season, but mostly because of the pure comedy of the tension it creates on so many levels. I’m not sure I can explain it without writing some kind of thesis paper but I believe it is a true work of comedic genius. Which is very, very rare.
On a similar note, I saw 'Friendship.’ Tim Robinson is another truly inspired comedic force. I think I was expecting it to be so funny. Like beyond funny. People were talking about it like it was the funniest thing ever. The Buffoon that Tim has created and inhabits is incredibly hilarious. The movie was funny enough. I think his genius is in the sketches on ‘I Think You Should Leave.’ Where it’s all about him and the way the world has to reckon with him. The movie worked pretty well. I just wanted more funny.
I guess this is my movie and TV review update.
Today I talk to Nick Kroll again. He’s truly one of the funniest people I know. On Thursday screenwriter Scott Frank and I talk movies and TV and his new series ‘Department Q.’ Great talks.
Enjoy!
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
Love,
Maron
Into the Hands of the Machine.
It’s a rollercoaster, folks.
I don’t do rides. Never really have.
Over the weekend I was shooting some promos for Bad Guys 2 with the rest of the cast. We were doing them on the Universal lot which is adjacent to the theme park. At some point, Sam Rockwell got it in his head that he wanted to go on the Mummy ride. They couldn’t pull it together for us on Saturday but on Sunday they made it happen.
When he asked if I wanted to go I was like, ‘Hell, yeah! Let’s do it!’
I’m not sure who that guy was. He was a me that loves rollercoasters I guess.
I really thought in that moment it would be fun. It would explode me into the present with speed and menace and a bit of terror.
I was never a rollercoaster person or a ride person at all. Years ago, I was married to a woman that loved them. So, I went on some very daunting roller coasters. Somehow the fact that I had done that in my past evolved into me believing that I actually liked them. I don’t necessarily dislike them, but I don’t like them. I had forgotten that any time I’ve been on one it was just something I felt I needed to get through. The ‘fun’ part of it eluded me. There is a relief of getting through it but that’s anything in life.
I realize that the reason I don’t like amusement park rides is because I’m on a fairly terrifying ride everyday. On an average day, I go up and down many, many times. I get jerked around constantly. The bottom falls out and I free fall a couple of times a day. I wonder when it’s going to be over the entire time I’m on it. It’s just that all these feelings are coming from inside the head.
So, to actually be on a ride stops my internal ride for a minute or two. Except the part of me that is wondering if I should be gripping harder or relaxing to avoid a neck issue. Which is also a big life question. Do I hold on harder or let go?
Now that I write that, the act of climbing into the car of a rollercoaster is letting go of your patterns and putting your life into the hands of the machine.
Me and Sam and Natasha Lyonne got on the ride.
As it turns out, when I let go I get pretty queasy.
Pretty big life lessons all around.
It was fun enough. Natasha Lyonne thought we should do it everyday. Which I think, even with how it felt, would probably be a good idea. Like an alternative to a cold plunge. Just another thing to get addicted to. Like all addictions once you get past the feeling sick part you really grow to like it and need it.
Today I talk to Sarah Silverman about her new Netflix special, PostMortem. On Thursday I talk to The J. Geils Band frontman Peter Wolf about all the amazing people he’s come in contact with in his life and a bit about the band. Good talks.
Enjoy!
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
Love,
Maron
Was It a Dream?
It’s done, People.
I did it.
For those of you following along, I taped my HBO Special on Saturday.
I am exhausted and truly drained. It’s not a great feeling. It is a great feeling to have done the work and the shows.
I worked for over two years getting this set together. I was working on it right up until I did the two tapings and even in-between the shows. That’s just how I do it.
I think the shows went very well. I almost don’t remember them. I know it just happened two days ago but when you shoot a special it's almost like going to another planet. The experience is so heightened. It’s not a regular show. It’s also the realization of the work of many people.
The BAM Harvey is a stunning venue. It’s very old and they let it be old. It’s not restored, it’s preserved in its natural decayed state. It has a beautiful deep vibe. My production designer Mark Janowitz is a genius who came up with a concept that is inspired by kintsugi. It’s the ancient art of mending broken pottery with lacquer and gold. My director Steve Feinartz shot with nine cameras. The entire set and theater looked amazing. We leaned into all the structural elements of the place to create a stunning look.
I wrote an original rock riff to open and close the show that I recorded with some amazing musicians. Everything was perfect.
When it came time for the show it was all on me to deliver. I did.
It is a different experience than just doing a show. I was almost out of my body. I wanted the set to come in around seventy minutes. Down from an hour and forty a few weeks ago. I wanted to get my sequence right. The first 15 minutes or so are loaded with separate pieces that all have to work together. I was totally deep-focused on this set last week. Nothing else really mattered other than worrying about whether Charlie would shit all over the house.
The first set went great. I was a bit amped and moving kind of quickly but most of it worked great. I came in at exactly seventy minutes. The second set I was more relaxed and loose and the energy was perfect. I think. Seventy minutes again. I really can't remember the experience other than being immersed in it.
I changed some stuff between shows. Took notes from Brendan and my friend Sam who were there for both.
It all seems to go by so quickly after working so long leading up to it. It’s like a dream.
As I walked out of the theater about forty five minutes after I finished they had already broken down most of the set. Was it a dream?
I felt depleted and empty and sad. That’s not exactly how you want to feel but it’s normal after a big show or shows that you have been working towards forever. Every special I do I’ve worked my whole life to do. I am proud of the material. There’s a lot of it. Some of it is challenging. I felt a bit exposed after. Which is weird, but maybe not.
I’m proud of the work. The audiences were great. The theater was great. There is some part of me that never wants to see what I did. I just hope it comes together well.
Wait, I do want to see it. Badly.
One of the best parts of my trip is Charlie didn’t shit all over my house.
Today I have an amazing talk with Bridget Everett who I get a real kick out of. On Thursday I talk to Carol Leifer again. Great talks.
Enjoy!
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
Love,
Maron
Reasonable Concerns.
Hey, Folks.
I was doing fine. Really.
Then I boarded a plane in Toronto to Burlington and realized I left my computer at TSA in Toronto.
Now I’m not fine. Not at all. Now I’m beating the shit out of myself for having my head up my ass. That’s an important part of my journey to fleeting acceptance. I can always revisit it for all my dumb actions.
I’m writing this on my phone. This is not good for my brain.
Too much traveling. Spaced.
Aside from that, which with my brain is an unfolding disaster all the time, I’m doing okay. Wiped out. The special set is feeling good though.
The two shows in Toronto were great. It’s kind of amazing that our horrible monster of a president brought that country together to vote against him and elect a liberal when it was really tight before he broke the world.
I told them that now I kind of want them to be the 51st state. We could use the votes in ‘26 and ‘28. Canada has to be good for quite a few electoral votes. They laughed.
It’s amazing what I go through mentally heading into these big events in my life. Instead of just experiencing justified nervousness or, god forbid, excitement about what I have to do, I totally freak out about everything else in my life and worry about the worst happening.
It’s a constant. All my life.
I mean, I worry about the special but not about the material. That’s tight. I worry about my: hair, glasses, shirt, shoes, how they’ll look, my weight, whether I’ll get sick, lose my voice, whether the audiences won’t be good, the cameras, etc.
I guess those are reasonable concerns. Why can’t I just decide and stick by my decisions?
Some part of me wants to destabilize myself completely for the show. It’s fucking nuts.
Now, add in: the computer, whether my cats are okay, whether they’ll beat the shit out of each other and shit all over the house, whether I have cancer, whether my house is ok, etc.
Never stops. My present is filled with panic and dread in my head as I try to pass as a person who has most of his shit together. It’s exhausting.
Something has to give. I don’t have as many years ahead of me as I do behind me obviously. I’ve worked hard. I have to find some peace.
And a new computer.
Today I talk to Tom Green about where he is in his life now. Thursday I talk to Choctaw Nation singer songwriter Samantha Crain about her work and life. Great talks!
Enjoy!
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
Love,
Maron
The Evolving Jam.
Jamming, People.
A couple of things.
First, Charlie seems to have returned to his former self. It feels like a miracle. Second, I went to a Phish show. It was good. Sadly, I was not converted. Maybe that’s for the best. I don’t have to get baggy jam band jigging clothes. I did do some swaying.
So, Charlie has been through it the last few weeks. My trips in and out of town really fucked him up. He has separation anxiety and that induced colitis and then he became aggressive with the other cats. It was a real chaotic shit show here when I got back from my last trip. In a panic, I put him on Prozac. It leveled him. Not in a good way. He was almost lethargic and seemed aggravated in another way. Like he knew he wasn’t himself. It was also very sad. He just wasn’t the same guy. I couldn’t live with it.
People kept telling me that I should let him adjust and wait it out. I started to think that actually meant that I needed to adjust to the fact that I had neutered his personality. I mean, I already took his balls away, now I was cutting off his personality. I was a monster.
I took him off it. Waited it out a few days. He was still out of his mind with aggression. The vet had prescribed Gabapentin for when I was away. That would require getting it in his mouth.
It was all causing me anxiety. Massive cat stress. It’s so good I don’t have kids.
The vet gave me a supplement that I could try. Zylkene. I emptied a capsule into his dinner a few days ago and within hours he was calm and back to normal. What a relief. The stress it was causing me, and I imagine him as well, was daunting. Especially on top of all my other stress.
I just don’t know why the first recommendation was so drastic. Prozac is a lifetime commitment to getting medicine into a wild animal. We’ll see if this other stuff holds and keeps working. I feel like it just gave him some space to get out from under the anger. I’ve been there.
Phish was in town this past weekend. When I interviewed Trey a while back I had told him I’d never seen the band and I agreed to take him up on his invitation when it was convenient. So, I went. He set me up with great seats.
What I didn’t expect at the show was that the entire Phish community had listened to my talk with him. So, they were all happy I took him up on his offer. Many people came up to me and said some version of, ‘You made it.’
The show was great. Despite my prejudgement, I did kind of know what to expect. The journey.
I went knowing none of the songs. None. But I got the vibe. I lived with Dead Heads for two years back in the day. I went to a few shows. I have the jam band neural pathway.
The first set at the show was mostly defined songs. The second set was the trip. The evolving jam. I think when you are of the world and you know all the songs, maybe many versions that you had experienced over many shows, there’s a depth to the experiences that I couldn’t have. The band is tight and I rolled with it. Having been high in my life and being surrounded by weed I was able to tap in.
I dug it. Good experience. Glad I had it. I can’t say I’ll be part of the Pham but I immersed myself.
To be fully transparent, I have to admit, I left before the end. I don’t like the post-concert mass exodus or traffic. It had nothing to do with the show. I mean, I left the Stones early. I leave all concerts early.
I get it now though.
Today I talk to director David Cronenberg. Thursday I talk to David Harbour again. I love that guy. Great week.
Enjoy!
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
Love,
Maron
Filling the Funnel.
Taking it easy, People
I know I have been a bit dire lately. Dire times.
It’s hard for me to compartmentalize almost anything. Once it’s in my mind I can sometimes sort it out. My perception is the funnel. I am the chute. So, it’s the sorting you’re hearing.
I’ve been hung up on the reality of what is happening politically and culturally. The fear it causes in me and the seeming powerlessness at the core of that fear. I innately want to believe that there is a surprise shift possible. A magic bullet, a drastic paradigm shift that can happen instantly because of an event. That is hope. Though it is a kind of magical thinking. Until it isn’t.
I think about the power of ‘art’ constantly as being that potential explosive catalyst. Like there is one image, moving or still, one line of poetry, one drastic act that will save us. It’s ridiculous because it has to be cumulative, collaborative, coincidental and serendipitous. It also has to have enough traction to stick for more than a few days and not get lost in the churn filling the funnel.
So, we chip away against something that has been calculated and executed on all fronts for decades. The great mind fucking initiated in the collective unconscious by calculating totalitarian thinkers and the money behind them. So be it.
I can do what I do. It lands here and there. Shifts thinking a little bit one way or the other in people. Fine. I have to try to let go of being consumed by it all meaning something all the time. My time, my talking, anything that comes up in my mind has to imply something real or mostly fictional, speculative.
So, I’m taking it easy for a few days. I took a week off from comedy. I’m just trying to sit with my life, cats, partner, food. Be outside. Lie on the grass. Sit in a chair. Let the sun beat down on my face. I’d like to make this stuff an essential part of my life as opposed to a brief, usually unsuccessful, reprieve from the internal and external churn. Looking for answers. Bits of relief through phrasing.
It’s the act of poetry through comedy that keeps me sane.
On the cat front, Charlie is back from the fog of the Fluoxetine experiment. After two weeks of sadness on my part, and I think discomfort on Charlie’s, I took him off the meds. I think I may have already told you this but to reiterate, he’s back to himself. It took a minute but he’s pretty much all here now and I couldn’t be happier about it.
All that talk about him adjusting or you have to give it time almost makes me mad at myself. He’s not even three yet. He’s still out of his mind. When I’m home I can get between him and Buster. My experience with cats leads me to believe that eventually things will settle down. Buster used to bite the shit out of old Monkey when Monkey was frail. It passed. Kind of. Monkey got sicker but it wasn’t Buster's fault.
So, maybe this is a little cat Karma for Buster. Either way, the real issue is how deeply attached little Charlie is to me and what to do about that when I’m away. I’m working on a less permanent med intervention. Hopefully it will be effective.
I also ordered a cat tree. That’s the day you surrender your house to cats. Whatever pride you put into decorating or maintaining a look of a house goes right into the toilet when you get a cat tree. I’m just hoping it gives him more to do when he’s bored than to beat up the other guys. We’ll see.
This week I talk to two truly hilarious women. Liza Treyger on Monday and Jessica Kirson on Thursday. Very funny.
Enjoy!
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
Love,
Maron
Old Brick Buildings.
Worn out, Folks.
I’m happy to be returning to California from America.
I like America but it's kind of tense out there. I’m sure I’m projecting a bit and on some level it’s always felt a little tense in a kind of jocks vs. stoners way but it’s definitely not a great vibe. The division.
Sadly, the worst case scenario is that I am projecting and most people have no clue about what is really happening in the country. They’re just relieved they can be unfiltered monsters and be the dominant voice of the culture. Which is bad enough, but there is part of me that thinks, ‘This isn’t going to work out for any of us.’
After a certain point there is no way not to know that and the only way to maintain the denial will be the absolute suppression, through whatever means necessary, to stifle opposing or alternative voices and points of view.
Most of that will be an inside job on behalf of the individual being targeted. Outside of deportations, disappearings, unnecessary firings and imprisonment. For most, it will be to retreat inside themselves in fear and feel their spirit die.
That’s the fight. Keep your spirit alive and speak out.
I’m in Michigan.
On a lighter note, the shows have been great. Needed. I may be a little tired of the material I’ve been working on for a year and half now but the audiences seem to like it and need it. I keep tweaking stuff and all the shows are a bit different but I am honing in on a tight hour and ten.
I was very surprised by Grand Rapids. It’s a pretty little city. The venue there was one of the best I’ve played. GLC Live at 20 Monroe is amazing. It’s relatively new and seems to have been designed for rock shows. But the way it’s laid out there isn’t really a bad seat in the house and the structural design makes the room dead on a sound level. No bounce, no echo. It must be amazing to see a well mixed rock show there. The staff was great and it hasn’t been around long enough for the green room to be a mess. Great performing experience.
I also had some of the best coffee I’ve ever had there at Lantern Coffee.
The other thing that makes Grand Rapids beautiful is the architectural attention paid to old buildings. The renovation of much of the old downtown is meticulously curated. I seem to really gravitate to restored old brick buildings. The bricks are cleaned and new windows put in and the ghosts of the painted signs of what they used to be remain. There’s a visual poetry to it that I find satisfying.
Today I talk to director Ryan Coogler about his new film Sinners. It’s a horror movie. There is a genre now of Black horror that I guess has been kind of carved out by Jordan Peele. Sinners is rooted in the world of music and mysticism that is based in the Delta. It’s really a blues movie which I had no idea about going in. There are vampires, but it’s really about black music and spirituality and… vampires. It’s an interesting new take on some of the mythic stories.
On Thursday I talk to Jillian Bell, who co-starred with me in Sword of Trust, about her directorial debut with the film Summer of 69. It’s a take on the classic teen film that is surprising. Partially because I’m old and I don’t have kids. It’s a fun movie.
Enjoy!
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
Love,
Maron
Get That Heart Out.
Nice days, Folks.
I have to say, when the weather is good in LA, it’s beautiful.
I guess life is simple if you let it be. That maybe just appreciating a day and taking a walk is enough. Like, that’s life. I’m not sure why I expect more out of it. What part of me thinks there’s got to be something else to it? Like I’m going to be given some big answer that makes it all make sense and feel good.
I guess that’s the essence of a spiritual search that I am decidedly not on. I accept the ambiguity and the deep sense of mild disappointment. If I could change that feeling into endless curiosity, wonder and excitement, maybe I would be a spiritually grounded person.
What makes me feel good is fleeting and just a way to stay away from the fear of… most things. Those fears have been with me for as long as I can remember. I’ve gotten used to rationalizing them and taking contrary action to counter them.
I figured out a revealing thing about me from my cat, Charlie. I always kind of knew it. I’ve been giving him this small amount of Prozac to treat his aggression and separation anxiety. I don’t like it because he doesn’t seem himself. More precisely, he doesn’t seem to really need my attention anymore. A little bit more serotonin and he’s good. No need for a fake mommy, no need to constantly get attention. He didn’t really have a mom for very long.
I’m upset because he’s not meeting my needs by wanting my attention constantly. It’s a real heartbreaker. I guess I can get him back to some version of that by taking him off the meds but he was starting to attack the other cats and me a bit. We’ll see.
But all those unmet needs early on in his life created a being that was just those needs. I can relate.
Lately I’ve shut down a lot. I’ve tried to accept those needs will never be met, which they won't, but I have to get that heart out in the world so it can see the light. Appreciate a walk, let it be enough.
I think that’s been the entire purpose and arc of my comedy. Trying to peel away the layers while people laugh at me. Surviving embarrassment. To get that heart out in the world.
I have to put down the shield. I don’t know how I will make myself feel good but I do it a bit here and there. I have to let go of what I think other people expect out of me and stop trying to meet those projected expectations. I have to let go of a lot of things that bring me relief mentally or occupy my mind constantly. I have to let go of thinking I should be like someone else, anyone else.
I’m not sure who I’m writing this to or why but it's been on my mind. I think because I had a deep talk with David Harbour and we ended up at a place where the nature of self was questioned and we got to Buddhism somehow.
That will do it every time.
Today I have a wide-ranging, interesting conversation with Peter Weller, actor and art historian. Thursday I talk to comedian Gavin Matts to varying degrees of success. Good week.
Enjoy!
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live.
Love,
Maron
Relief in Ghosts.
The Midwest, Folks.
I had a moment. I love Chicago. I can’t even explain why exactly. I’ve always liked it. It has its own thing. It’s a real American city with a storied history.
In the past when I’d go to any town or city I’d go out of my way to check out what the place was known for, what food it was known for, what stores it was known for, what museums were around. All of it.
Now I do none of it. Not in a bad way. I think I’m just more content. On some level, I’ve seen enough, eaten enough, bought enough stuff.
I had gigs in Skokie and Joliet but I made sure to stay in Chicago. I didn’t really want to do anything there. I just wanted to be there. The point is, I realized that being someplace had nothing to do with what that place has to offer other than being that place. I mean, I get that about an island but what I realized is that it's the same with a city. It’s the vibe, the weight, the poetry of the place. It was elevating, soothing. To be in place that was whole and realized and old and part of the beginning of modern America.
A ghost of the past where working people lived in layers of communities, immigrants, all occupations represented. Machines and manufacturing. Corner offices and printing presses and hot steel.
I’m not sure I’m even explaining it right. It represents something that doesn’t really exist anymore.
I find relief in ghosts.
In this time of an authoritarian coup that seems nearly unstoppable, fueled by illusion and heartless greed, I find respite in the apparitions of what life was like even well before me.
Ghosts are everywhere talking to us from buildings and on the radio, on our phones. The tones of the dead elevate the soul. It’s magic. It’s nostalgia maybe, but necessary to remember what humans did before they were totally brain fucked by illusions of bullshit disassembling our minds into emotionally charged hammers and knives.
This new world wants those that think and feel for other people to die and they’re going to use the broken brains of the dehumanized, gutted of empathy, to carry out the mass homicide through negligence, suppression, forced illness and possible brute force. Who the fuck knows?
I’m just saying, it’s nice to hang out with ghosts in ghost ships. It’s exciting to bring people in from the storm of their minds and the tyranny of the monsters to connect and entertain.
I played the Rialto Theatre in Joliet and it is one of the most beautiful venues I’ve ever been in. I was skeptical about going there at first. I didn’t know what kind of town it was. Driving in, it seemed shattered and bleak. There was almost nothing going on downtown. There, in the grayness, was this monument of old entertainment with a lit up sign full of bulbs.
I don't know where the people came from. The sound guy and the lighting guy and the stage manager seemed a bit detached and cold. The security guy out back asked me if he had seen me on Fox News. I said, ‘Not that I know of. Not on purpose, if at all.’
It was not a great way to enter the venue. The lighting board had been totally disconnected and I had no idea whether that would resolve itself.
The theatre was magic and seemingly maintained perfectly. I think the seats were even original from the '20s.
More than 800 people showed up. The place seated 1,900 but it was perfect because it made it intimate and a little weird. Fully lit up folks in a magic time machine laughing through the bleakness and the despair. Perfect.
Thanks to the ghosts and what's left of where they lived.
Today I talk to Delroy Lindo. It got deep. It was real. Thursday I talk to Lynne Margulies who was Andy Kaufman’s last partner and was there when he died. We talk about Andy and the new amazing doc about him, Thank You Very Much.
Enjoy!
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
Love,
Maron
Fried Rice.
Cruise, Folks.
I’m in a hotel room looking at a cruise ship out my window. I really can't understand how some people look at one of those and think, ‘That looks like it would be a great time.’
Being stuck on a boat for days, maybe weeks, with the same people. Wandering around eating at a different buffet every hour in the middle of the oceans sounds like hell to me. I also get seasick pretty easily. I’m just not a boat guy.
I’m not sure what kind of guy I am. I really have to figure out how to have fun. The anxiety of traveling in any vessel for one reason or another is kind of daunting. Just figuring out where to stay and what to do anywhere is exhausting.
I’m in Charleston, SC right now which seems to be a popular destination for the vacation people. I walked a mile to a restaurant, which was good, but I feel like I’m kind of done with the town. It wasn’t even a fancy restaurant. It was a vegan butcher shop called Three Girls on Spring. It didn’t have a table except for a couple outside and it might’ve been the highlight of my whole trip.
There are beaches and water and fancy southern style things all over here but I just don’t care.
I went to a record store which is always immediately overwhelming and the guy who worked there, who I didn’t notice, said, ‘Is that the Marc Maroon tee?’ I turned around and this dude had a Ship John shirt and hat on. He had listened to me talk to Mike Elias. I was wearing Ship John pants. The cult of Ship John is international.
Again, as I’ve been saying, it’s good to get out there and talk to strangers in passing. Stay in touch with basic humanity.
I was in Charlotte and looked up some vegan soul food place. I drove out to the address and it was in some kind of complex of restaurants but it wasn’t really its own restaurant. I walked into a room with a few high top tables and maybe eight video screens which were click-on menu touchscreens for as many different restaurants. There was a door there that said pick up order here. I’d never seen anything like it. It was horrifying somehow. The future.
There was a counter at one side of the room with a kitchen and a few tables. It was a Japanese place called Dozo run by chef/owner Perry Saito. I asked him how the screen business worked. He said there’s an industrial kitchen in the back and people representing each menu for each ‘restaurant’ rent stations in the kitchen. I guess it’s kind of an extension of the food truck idea when you’re ready to get out of the truck.
Perry recognized me. We talked comedy for a few minutes. I told him I was vegan but I didn’t really love the whole touchscreen thing. He said he didn’t have any real vegan dishes but he said he’d make me a tofu and mushroom fried rice. So, he was cooking it and then we talked about the area, the south, the blue bit, the red bit. He said when he was younger he never really connected how politics affected his life but now as a small restaurant owner he was concerned for the future of his place because of tariffs and the cost of imported stuff.
His dad was a chef and he had built his business from a food truck.
It’s good to talk about what’s happening in a practical way with people who are waking up to the horrendous impact of it all. It gave me hope somehow. For a few minutes.
The fried rice was awesome.
Today I talk to Nick Thune again. It had been years. It's been a rough few for him. Good talk. On Thursday I talk to Modi. He’s an Israeli-American comic I have known for years but hadn’t seen in about 20. His career had blown up in a very specific way. Another great talk.
Enjoy!
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
Love,
Maron
The Big Empty.
Panic, People.
I guess I’ve been a panicky person my whole life. I try to hide it and maybe it does recede a bit when I’m engaged with something, like a person or a task, but my resting brain is panicky.
When we are in a time where panic is warranted and reasonable, I generally think it’s the appropriate response and not some psychological aberration.
That implies that my mind works normally. Whatever that means. Well, it doesn’t. It never has. I was brought up with panic. Not too many principles, but panic. Worry.
Oddly the idea of treating my anxiety is still dubious to me. Which is puzzling, but also makes me understand the spectrum of questioning medication. I mean, you want to be able to handle it. You want to feel healthy enough to not need it or fight the convenience of it. Get obsessed with side effects and the compromise of your physical, mental and spiritual sanctity. That goes for any condition. Not just psychological. It’s dumb. Ego driven.
I can't take it anymore. It’s taking me to the edge of sanity.
I’ve been here before and generally I just ride it out. Fuck. It’s too much.
Like I’ll walk you through something that just happened. I texted Kit. No response. I’ve grown accustomed to not hearing back from people I text. I don’t respond half the time for a day or two. It’s hard to know when text threads end or if you’re waiting for a response. It’s part of life. I’ve adjusted to it.
For some reason I locked in and my brain just took off. She didn’t get back to me. I knew she was probably sleeping or doing laundry or at the dog park but my brain just what if’d it to something horrible and that became the dominant narrative. Car accident. Hospital. Death. What do I do if that happens? Her cats, her family. How do I handle that? Cutting back and forth between that and her most likely napping. Which she was.
It’s exhausting running all the scenarios all the time. With anything. With no indication that any of it is happening. It takes my brain to very dark places.
It’s been going non stop lately. With everything. Sadly with the political climate and the environmental climate there are plenty of indicators that the worst is happening. I wish, in light of that, I could find a bit of peace in my personal life but I cannot.
I know this is no surprise to those who know me and my work. But when am I going to do something about it?
I mean, I drink a gallon of coffee a day and constantly have a nicotine pouch in my mouth. God forbid I start by stopping that shit. I don’t.
I am terrified of the emptiness of my core.
I don't really know how to have fun or relax or just sit for very long. I am capable of all these things but my wiring seems to prefer panic and compulsive relief as opposed to peace of mind and acceptance.
I know, I know. This is basic existential stuff that I could get relief from with basic spiritual ideas.
I don’t know what it’s going to take to stop fighting the big empty and embrace it. Buddhism?
Anyway, I talk to Jane Marie today about a lot of things including her podcast The Dream. On Thursday I have a kind of amazing talk with comedian Chris Fleming.
Enjoy!
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
Love,
Maron
Homemade Falafel.
Texas, Folks.
I have traversed the Country of Texas over the last few days. I appreciate it, but I don’t love it. It’s petty and deeper than politics. I grew up in New Mexico and there was always a bit of a state rivalry and judgement of Texas. Shallow stuff.
I do really like certain parts. Oddly, Houston mostly.
We started the run in Oklahoma City which I have been to a few times. I always psyche myself out before going to certain places. Red states, mostly. When I get there it all dissipates pretty quickly. What happens in my mind is not reality. Reality on a person-to-person level is always better. Heartwarming even.
There is a vital creative scene in OKC. I had a nice crowd. I had a great breakfast. I liked the hotel.
The funniest thing was when me and my opener Blair Socci got to the hotel, we were checking in and Bobby Lee walked out of the elevators. Crazy. He was there shooting a movie. Fred Armisen was there too. I had breakfast the next day with him. It was very comforting to see some friends doing creative stuff in a place I never expected to see them. I also reached out to Wayne Coyne. He and The Flaming Lips are headquartered there. He didn’t make it to the show but the rest of the band did.
Friends really make you feel less alone in the world. Especially when you are out in it and surprised by them being there.
The show in OKC was great.
Then we drove to Dallas which is a sprawl. When you are out in the Country of Texas there is a weird, powerful zen to the plateau of it. It’s massive. Seems like the whole world but the cities seem to go on and on for miles. There is more road construction there than anywhere I’ve ever been. Miles and miles of it. Not pretty.
The show in Dallas was amazing. The Majestic Theatre is beautiful. A guy I knew back in the day from Boston was working at the place so we did some catching up and time travel. Again, old friends make you feel less alone in the world and bring you back down to earth and give you an opportunity to remember who you were and are.
I love Houston. It’s such an amazing, diverse city. Great art and great food. I reached out to Mo Amer when I was there and he had me over to his house for homemade falafel. It was awesome. I met his wife and kid. We ate and talked. It’s truly sweet when people put a premium on hospitality and connection. Beautiful afternoon.
I also revisited the Rothko Chapel and saw it with newer, older eyes. While I was meditating on the massive panels this time around I realized the true power of darkness. The inevitability of it. No one got close to the abyss in painting as he did and these were some of the last works he did before he died by suicide. So, the spiritual nature of the space took on a deeper meaning. It was dark and nebulous but honest. It wasn’t a cry for help but it was pulled from space by a man at his existential end.
The Houston show was a bit rowdy but great.
I’m writing this overlooking the Riverwalk in San Antonio. I hope this show is a nice end to this run. We’ll see. Parades of tourists trudging along the river doesn’t make me optimistic but I’ll let you know how it goes.
Today I talk to W. Kamau Bell again. He’s a great guest and this was our best talk. On Thursday I talk to Mike Elias. He’s the creator of Ship John and his journey as a craftsman is a unique conversation for the show.
Enjoy!
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
Love,
Maron
The Daily Garbage Churn.
I can take it, People!
I think I can. It’s day to day.
The arc of feelings from self righteous anger to suicidal ideation. I get that it's a limited range. The dark spectrum. On the light spectrum I have fleeting blurts of mania to exhausted peace of mind.
My maternal lineage goes back to Ukraine. Galicia. Which was an oil boom town. I’d like to think of my great, great, great grandfather working those wells. A Jewish roughneck. I stand with Ukraine politically and genetically.
I’ve been out in New Mexico for a few days visiting my dad and his wife who has a huge family. It strikes me that as a person who doesn’t have kids and is relatively disconnected from my extended family that I have a lot less unfolding and seemingly never-ending drama in my life. That is the excitement of family and connection. There’s always someone to talk about for better or worse. In the absence of that, it’s just the daily garbage churn of the manifestations of my own insecurity, shame, panic and despair along with all the other trash I throw in the hopper. The four horsemen of my personal apocalypse.
I know, I’m tired of me too.
That’s why, lately, I am taking every opportunity I can to be among other people talking in real life. I was waiting on line at a coffee shop here and some guy complimented my sunglasses and the next thing I knew we were talking about his tours in Iraq and Afghanistan, his family, trips to Venice he had taken, his Italian roots and my boots. That happened in five minutes. People like to talk to people. It’s better when it’s casual and loose and not driven by ideology and politics because that’s when you're listening to a self editing recording device and the person’s humanity fades into the machine or disappears.
I’m writing this before the Oscars which I hope to watch and record the intro of the show after.
I’m hoping for Anora to win Best Picture. I think it’s a perfect Hollywood movie in that it subverts its Hollywood movieness.
I’m hoping for Brady Corbet for Best Director because he’s a visionary artist with real old school, almost European mastery.
I watched his first film last week, The Childhood of a Leader. Made in 2015. I have to say, it may be better than The Brutalist, which was very good. It’s real deal cinematic art. It poses more questions than, if any, answers. It leaves a lot of space for engagement and wonder. It has a seamless logic, cinematically and story wise. Corbet is a rare talent.
I’ve gotten a bit of reaction to my cynicism around boycotts. I get how they work. I get the intention of leveling economic pain against a corporation or in most cases, a particular billionaire oligarch. What I don’t see is its impact on the current political hellscape that is unfolding and deepening daily. I don’t see how it stops Trump or has any real impact on his presidency. If it makes you feel good, go for it. I’m onboard but it feels to me like we are beyond that having any real political impact.
Maybe public perception will change and maybe more angry people will once again believe that civil service in the form of candidacy will manifest. People who believe in democracy and how it actually works will seize the minds of the angry, disenfranchised and disillusioned, and make them believers in a government by the people, for the people, voting the grifters and shills and useful idiots out. That’s if voting remains a thing.
But in the meantime, if you want to go out in the world and shop at actual stores and stop buying Teslas, all the power to you. Whatever gets you through the day.
Today I talk to Don Johnson, a real Hollywood veteran. On Thursday I talk to Will Oldham, aka Bonnie 'Prince' Billy, about the power of art and humanity and other lighter things.
Enjoy!
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
Love,
Maron
Jerky and Jesus.
The South, People!
I’m in it. It’s different.
I’ve been going to the South to perform for a long time. I am always apprehensive before I go because of assumptions about the people and politics and religiosity of the region. Back before I had any name recognition I was afraid of how my material would go over or if I was even safe. As I’ve built my audience, I know that most of the people at the show know what they are getting into. It’s easier but still a bit frightening for different reasons and still does not feel entirely safe.
In the past, I would leave thinking I was being judgmental and the people I would encounter in passing were all generally good people. Nice. Obviously, my audiences are nice people, or at least, fans of mine. Also, the people I would encounter at businesses or restaurants or working at convenience stores were generally pleasant as well.
I’m not sure what has changed but I’m still willing to bet it’s me. The things that were different were political or cultural ideas. In the past that wasn’t at the forefront of passing conversations and there was a willingness to accept others. Even if we had different ideas or beliefs. I’m not sure that is there anymore. I may be projecting or I may just be living in the real division between Americans and it made me feel awkward or alien or like an outsider. It's fair to say there are people I encountered in passing who are responsible for what is happening in the country, which is terrifying.
So, I felt that. Again, I don’t know how much is in my head but I can read the news and know that the effects of their choices are real and brutal.
The audiences have been amazing. All of them. Asheville, Louisville, Nashville and Lexington. Actually, as I write this, I haven’t done the Louisville show. So, I’ll get back to you on that. I have had some of the best shows of my life in Nashville though. I think because people who live in these blue dot cities have to deal with the divisiveness day-to-day in their state governments and it's much more real to them and has been for a long time. Also, the fear of even your neighbors at this point in terms of speaking your mind must be paralyzing. So, to be in a room of like minded people trying to have a laugh and realize you’re not crazy must be good. I’m trying to do that for them.
I do like the country down here. It’s beautiful. The drive from Asheville to Nashville is stunning. I did experience something I had never experienced before. I went to a Buc-ee's. It is the Walmart of truck stops. It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before. You walk in and it’s huge. There’s all the stuff that you see at other truck stops, just much more of it. At truck stops down here you can find some jerky and maybe a fun Jesus shirt but at Buc-ee's there’s an entire wall of jerky and a full boutique of faith based clothing and tchotchkes.
And, sadly, standing in front of a wall of jerky with the racks of Jesus shirts behind you is not a unifying moment for me. It was daunting and a bit off-putting. Look, I appreciate cured meat and the story of the savior but there’s something about the time we are living in where I think, ‘Is it all going to be this eventually?’ Jerky and Jesus. Oh, and brisket, which crosses all ideological lines.
Again, I don’t want to be a hater so I’ll just count myself among the frightened trying to make their way through with some dignity.
Today I talk to actress Carrie Coon. She’s a firecracker. On Thursday I talk to Chris Hayes. We talk specifically about his new book The Sirens' Call, about the impact of technology and social media on our minds. Great stuff.
Enjoy!
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
Love,
Maron