Bully Pulpit
PIT’s J.D. Durkin gives
novelty governor candidate a platform in Colbert-inspired show
By Kyle Riveral /
Jester correspondent
On
Feb. 24, the Peoples Improv Theater proved to be teeming with a
particular fervor, most certainly on account of Jimmy McMillan, last
fall’s charismatic candidate for New York governor. McMillan, of the
self-founded “Rent Is Too Damn High” party, was the guest for J.D.
Durkin’s show, “Stephen Colbert: Hire Me”, which largely featured
Durkin’s political musings, punctuated with a slideshow backdrop
corresponding to his satirical newscasting.
As is the custom of such formats, the ensuing
journalism was uttered with strong levity, only to be quickly followed
by ironic contradictory headlines that kept popping up behind Durkin, a
la Colbert’s “Word” segments. The contrast made for an amusingly macabre
gravity. Running the gamut, headlines rose and fell in unison with a
barrage of Durkin’s verbiage. Christina Aguilera, according to one
assertion, should be “deported back to Staten Island" (queue childishly
hysterical NYC subway map with red arrows on lack of transportation in
said island). He went on to exemplify how the statistical layout of
affairs in Egypt seems to be executed by first graders, offering images
of rudimentary pie charts and squiggles on a chalk board. Yes, a chalk
board.
And apparently, Corey Feldman, in his dire state of
unemployment, is pictured alongside a McRib sandwich, the coveted gift
for his Valentine’s Day sweetheart. Coloring Sarah Palin’s brilliance,
Durkin, after showing a clip of her skirting an issue, commented how the
further people progress politically, the more they “cut down on coherent
sentences.” Durkin’s finale, in its simplicity, aroused all with 2011
presidential candidate quotes. “I have no great burning desire to run,
but I will put my name in.” And the kicker: “If nominated, I won’t run.
If elected, I won’t serve. How about that?”
Durkin introduced his guest, Jimmy McMillan, with a
clip from his attention-getting appearance in the governor debate. “As a
karate expert, I won’t talk about anyone up here.” He came out sporting
something between a beard and goatee, black gloves, and a dominating
air. Continually referring to Durkin as his son, with their opposite
skin color embellishing the joke, he proceeded to effectively take hold
of the show. In an abrupt survey of the room he observed how this
country has all kinds of people, pointing out certain audience members,
including a “white man with nappy hair.”
Amazed at his ostensible success after being listed
at number 5 among New York Magazine’s favorites, McMillan reminisced,
dead-pan, about a fan running up to him. “I’m in Brooklyn; you don’t run
up to my car.” With practically no input from Durkin, McMillan ran on
and on from anecdote to anecdote, here and there diverging onto quick
side stories. In his somewhat earlier days, it turns out, he made the
decision to stop stripping because of gray hair. And it somehow came as
no surprise to learn that he was the pioneer of the phrase “verbal
judo,” which, he explained, can be likened to discourse associated with
road rage -- verbal judo. At one point, on one of his tangents, McMillan
thoughts seemed to run away from him as he progressed further down a
vehement path of social observation. His voice tapered and he cut
himself off, suddenly concluding, “I don’t know what I’m talking about.”
Behind his jovial effrontery, McMillan exuded
extensive passion and intimacy. Being a Vietnam veteran, and suffering
amnesia as a result thereof, he had to build his life anew. Having had
deformed children, he spoke of the importance of today’s youth and being
lifted of their financial burden, and strongly advocated humor. It’s a
shame, McMillan says, that in our nation’s policies, a child can be sent
to war but be refused alcohol. “Smart enough to kill, too dumb to
drink.” |