I’ve loved every episode of You Suck at Photoshop, not only because it mines laughs from the protagonist Donnie’s pathetic victories. I also think it’s innovative, one of the first web video things I’ve seen that would only work on the web - a first step beyond the “radio with pictures” days.
The format itself - a software training screencast - could be on TV, but that type of video naturally works best right there on your desktop. Because that’s where you’re going to use the software in the first place. Combine that with the use of other applications and web tools, and there’s a rich sense of Donnie’s life (or rather, non-life) just from what we see on the desktop.
And I think that’s also a key - the series uses one of the unique traits to most interaction on the web - anonymity. It elicits the same level of imagination you’ve had when you’ve talked to some troll in a message board forum or a blog comment. You want to fill in this picture of why this guy is being such a tool.
So it’s great to see it back, particularly after what looked like a conclusive tenth episode. But demand was too great, so here we are again with Donnie and a lesson on Smart Objects.
As always, its impressive how they can both teach a function in the program and tell a story. I actually learned something from this.
What I love about this Olde English video satirizing Pixar films is that it makes fun of the animators for both who they are (super-enthusiastic nerdy guys who dress “fun") and who they aren’t (people who cut corners).
That last line is killer. Impressive how they worked with their own animating limitations too. Videos like this make the loss SuperDeluxe much more felt. (Found via Ben Joseph)
Daily Show writer Rob Kutner recruits two more of the show’s correspondents for another promo for his recent book “Apocalypse How”. On hand for this look at nuclear fashion are Kristen Schaal and Aasif Mandvi.
Michael Showalter’s deliciously squirmy talk show brings on Mike Birbiglia to perform stand-up, sitting down. But Birbigs ain’t havin’ it…
My favorite part: every time Birbiglia asserts his desire to have a real conversation, he sneaks in a plug for something, making for a brilliant double barb that gets both host and guest. For someone who’s probably the most “likable” comic of his generation, it’s fun to see Birbiglia send himself up a little.
I missed all the initial rounds, somewhat intentionally - I just can’t stand watching the cattle call of people who are more interested in fame than comedy. But the later rounds should be a little better hopefully with performances from just the semi-finalists. They had to have made somebody laugh, right? Right?
Here’s the video to catch up on who the hell they all are, if you’re like me.
George Carlin was a personal hero of mine. Besides being very funny, he taught me a lot about how to cope with this planet as a thinking person. I want to share something with you that I’ve always treasured which I hope will say something about Carlin, the man.
In the mid 90s, I had just graduated from Emory University and moved to New York, imagining some kind of career in magazines, with the hopes of one day founding a humor magazine like the one I edited in college. I never imagine I’d be lucky enough to continue in comedy immediately, but by some good fortune, I ended up being an editor at Cracked Magazine.
A few months later, Carlin appeared at the 92nd St. Y for a conversation about his comedy. I took a shot at talking to George after the show, managing to find an opportunity among the many others who wanted a moment with the comic. Hopefully without too much of a stammer, I told him how much his comedy meant to me. I mentioned my own ambitions at the time and asked him if I could send him some of my work, specifically the Rolling Stone parody I made in college. He graciously gave me his address.
I was about a year into my new life when I met George. I wasn’t going to be doing Cracked forever. But I had a hard time seeing how anyone navigated their career with as little compromise and as much honesty as he did. In my letter, I asked him:
The most important thing to me (besides being funny) is that my comedy has integrity. That it has something to say. Your work has always appealed to me because it seems to stick with this philosophy. I want to have a career in comedy that has that kind of integrity. Am I asking too much? Should I just be content with a good fart joke?
I sent my Rolling Stone parody and a recent copy of Cracked with the letter. I had no idea if George gave me a real address or not. I think I wondered if my package would actually reach him, not about what response I’d get.
A few weeks later, I came home late one Wednesday - I think I had attended a comedy event at the Museum of TV and Radio - to find this message on my answering machine:
Carlin took the time to call me, to say something nice about my work and offer some words of encouragement. And he didn’t do it with the intention of it ending up on an answering machine, he meant to say them personally. He didn’t have to do it. I’m sure he had a lot of things on his plate. But he did anyway.
Carlin often expressed a disappointment with humanity as a species, but he was an incredibly generous man with people as individuals. I’m honored that along with all the words that he left for us, he gave these select few to me.
Dr. Ken Jeong (of Knocked Up): "I think comedy is a lot like music. It has to come from something--it has to come from a life experience for it to have any impact." (Starpulse)
Third Futurama movie has a name: "Bender's Game" - a play on the title of the Orson Scott Card sci-fi novel Ender's Game. However, the movie will not parody that book. Next up: Fry-entology?