Last night, I met a comic out on the street. He was talking to my buddy Bill. I joined their conversation.
With open arms.
The comic is telling Bill and I about a million dollar TV show idea that he wants to pitch … to any ol’ coot that will listen. All he needs is a production company foolish enough to have invested in all the equipment and follow him around tying $100 bills to fishing wire, and pulling said $100 bills through a zone of homeless folks and watch the hilarity!
Comedy Gold, I tell ya!
This comic says, “Are you interested in making something like that?” He had a foreign accent. It was a little hard to understand him. At one point he said something about “pussy”, but after I deciphered his accent, he was really saying something like “possibly.”
After listening to him chatter for three point five minutes about his golden idea, I looked at him and I said, “Did you write any of this out? Make me a proposal. I need it all in writing.”
He says, “You can’t write it out. It has to be spontaneous. In the moment.”
He starts going on and on about not writing it out. He goes on and on about the hilarity of his idea. You see, he’s a comic genius. Genius can not be written, it must be experienced. Yeah, those successful comics fly off the cuff too.
What a dim bulb.
I looked at him, and I said, “I’m a professional videographer. It’s what I do for a living. I used to work with a shit load of comics. If you don’t want to write it out, this is where our conversation ends.” I did an asshole swoop of my hand in front of us as if to make an invisible shield protecting me from the inanity. Run-0f-the-mill comics have a million salable ideas, but not one iota of understanding about how the fucking world works.
The more people I meet, the more I compare them to comics. And then I feel better about walking away from their “million dollar ideas.”
Yeah, I’m talking to you, Pope Mohammed.
I’m just saying that to remind me that I haven’t written a Pope Mohammed in some time.
Happy Friday.
Le Café Wittypoots 