Thursday, November 30, 2017

The Comedic Voice Is So 1995

I've been doing comedy for ten years and the entire time I've been slinging jokes I've also been simultaneously chasing my so called "comedic voice". My forbearers insist that the comedic voice is real, that it's the light at the end of the tunnel: Keep going, Hannah. Time and painful bombing will breed your voice, just wait, it's coming. But It's not coming. I think that maybe years ago the artist's voice was attainable but originality died with dial up Internet.

I've reached the disappointing conclusion that finding my comedic voice in 2017 is untenable. How can I separate my thoughts and opinions from the schizophrenic manic environment I live in? I go on Twitter and I am bombarded with people telling me what things REALLY ARE and I think: Yes! I agree with this! And I agree with it SO much that I take this stranger's opinion and I integrate into my own catalogue of arguments, then I purport it as my own opinion and perhaps even use this exact anecdote in real life conversations and proceed to not even admit that I stole this thought from an avatar online. And then eventually I'll use their point so often in my daily existence that I forget that it's just something I read on the Internet and before I know it I'm running around with entire world view that isn't even my own but rather the gospel of some adopted hive mind. What I'm trying to say is, I want to be a feminist but I don't know how. 

Feminism messes with me because I love it so much. I've switched my need for validation from men to seeking the approval of righteous, progressive woman. My neediness is a shape shifter. 

I want to be a feminist but more than that I want feminists to like me. I want to be a part of this cool new party that has taken over comedy, cities, bars, relationships, blogs and t shirts. Let me in. I want feminists to accept me and validate me as someone who is contributing to the cause and not some Betty Crocker abomination, some sad Lauren Southern mole laying waste, trapped and in denial in some dark enabling, sexist abyss. That's not me! I'm one of you but I'm scared I'm not good enough. There are so many bad ass woman out there, on the Internet at least, that yell and scream and joke and are poignant that I'm insecure in my voice as a woman too. I've read the books. I've lived the life. I was blind once but now I see- intersectionally! Is that a cool thought? Should I tweet that? If I don't get three likes in five minutes I will delete it. 

I agree with mostly everything the modern feminist perspective is pushing yet every time I want to tweet something from a feminist reach I hold back, I'm unsure, I doubt my veracity, my worth.  Is my feminist perspective even relevant if I'm not willing to voice it when every new news story breaks? I'm intimidated by feminist comedians because I admire their intelligence, boldness and strength but then in turn deem myself not strong enough or equipped enough to add to the cause. I never get in fights on the internet. The confidence it takes to reply to trolls astounds me. HOW CAN I BE A FEMINIST IF I'M AFRAID OF CONFRONTATION? I hate myself. I'm not worthy to even read Reductress.

I wish I never had a teacher in my life. It would be better for me if I was illiterate. I wish I never admired another stand up comedian. I wish the Internet didn't exist and I all I had was some shitty life as a mom and I'd hit the club on the weekends and all my opinions were my own and I never concisely or subconsciously tried to appease the cool feminist comedians, or the cute headliners or old audience members or club owners or my own dead moms ghost. I wish I could be a blank slate and think for myself. But I can't. I'm weak.  Fill me up. Tell me which new man to hate, what new comedy special is the second coming. I don't have my own opinions. My entire personality is a retweet.

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