If you’ve been watching Comedy Central at all today it’s been pretty hard to ignore that tonight is Stephen’s last Colbert Report and like many of you I suppose I’m a little sad to see him go.
The Colbert Report has been airing since about the time I started writing on the Internet (well, as ek hornbeck at least, my character is as much an artificial construct as Stephen’s and like him I never break it) and I won’t pretend that I noticed either The Daily Show or The Colbert Report before that time. Instead I watched Cable News (lots of it) and considered myself reasonably well informed (I also read 3 or 4 daily newspapers so I didn’t get all my news from TV).
Being on the ‘Tubes was an eye opening and radicalizing experience for me. I have always wanted to be a writer, and have always written. I was an editor at my High School Alternative Newspaper and won a couple of Awards from the Columbia School of Journalism, one for the paper and an individual Columnist Award. I took a term or so at the Boston University School of Journalism and worked a couple of years for my local Weekly.
Journalism is a low trade and a habit worse than heroin, a strange seedy world of misfits and drunkards and failures.
And did I mention that it pays poorly? So I did some other things with my life, some of which had nothing at all to do with writing (working with the severely learning disabled, Supervisor of Shipping and Receiving) and then cheap micro-computers came out.
I had sworn that computers were the work of the Devil (and they are) and that I would never, ever use one. You can see how the latter turned out.
So for I while I wrote poetry for machines, stacks and stacks of it, and there’s something satisfying about composing originals following a very strict syntax and grammar in a foreign language for an absolutely literal minded and unforgivimg audience.
For amusement my friend and I formed a small multimedia enterprise to advance our political position in our Club. In addition to countless newsletters, pamphlets, training manuals, flyers, posters, and reports and meeting materials, we did some DJing and wrote, produced, and directed videos, ran training seminars, and did the public speaking thing. He was the candidate, but after he was defeated he lost interest. I never gave up and became Capo di Tutti.
And I ran things with an iron fist (velvet gloves are for sissies) for about 5 years before I got bored and quit for good.
I golfed for a while, but it’s a tedious game. I wouldn’t garden, I’ve seen The Godfather.
In April of ’05 I was tired of Cable and ventured out on the ‘Net (another thing I swore I’d never do because of totally reasonable caution) as ek. I thought I had found a home, a place where I didn’t need to be afraid to let it slip I was a Democrat and I suppose it was a home for a while. While there I discovered this little corner of it called The Daily Show/The Colbert Report Spoiler Thread which we affectionately know today as TDS/TCR, the Sausage Grinder of Snark (my idea, at least the tag is). At the time it was under the stewardship of a lovely lady that it’s my great pleasure to know, TiaRachel.
Occasionally she needed a replacement for a break and, having by that time built my own reputation to the point that I no longer cared about writing blockbusters, I was happy to fill in. In a moment of weakness during a particularly long hiatus for the programs, I succumbed to the entreaties of PerfectStormer to cover the off periods.
And thus things were until my first banishment (over the very same pictures of U.S. prisoner abuse that Barack Obama refuses to release today ironically) and after my reinstatement, which I never sought nor have I ever apologized for my words and actions, I returned to the same routine. TDS/TCR was the only damn thing I missed about that place anyway.
After a while TiaRachel retired and I took over the franchise which I ran for about a year and a half before my second banishment (for defending a friend against bullying which I don’t regret either). Because of the presentation limitations of that place I had already established the series here and while others have continued the tradition elsewhere (and good for them) I contend that we also maintain Apostolic Succession.
Now I don’t know what they are planning on doing, this is my plan. During the holiday break I’ll be running some specials related to The Daily Show and The Colbert Report. When Jon resumes live broadcasts we will live blog those. When The Nightly Show with Larry Wilmore starts we will cover that too.
When Stephen Colbert takes over The Late Show (sometime after May) we will promote the guests, but will not live blog (hey, I gotta sleep sometime).
Will I miss The Colbert Report? Of course. And however dead he kills the character, in the incestuous zombie culture of reunion re-boot happy media I expect it to re-emerge at some point or another.
In a way it marks the end of an era for me, but I’m not going anywhere and you can count on my continuing to plumb new depths of obnoxiousness for some time to come.
The real news below.
This is the last show of the season.
Did you ever think of yourself as actually dead, lying in a box with a lid on it?
Nor do I, really. It’s silly to be depressed by it. I mean, one thinks of it like being alive in a box. One keeps forgetting to take into account the fact that one is dead, which should make all the difference, shouldn’t it? I mean, you’d never know you were in a box, would you? It would be just like you were asleep in a box. Not that I’d like to sleep in a box, mind you. Not without any air. You’d wake up dead for a start, and then where would you be? In a box. That’s the bit I don’t like, frankly. That’s why I don’t think of it. Because you’d be helpless, wouldn’t you? Stuffed in a box like that. I mean, you’d be in there forever, even taking into account the fact that you’re dead. It isn’t a pleasant thought. Especially if you’re dead, really. Ask yourself, if I asked you straight off, “I’m going to stuff you in this box. Now, would you rather be alive or dead?” naturally, you’d prefer to be alive. Life in a box is better than no life at all, I expect. You’d have a chance, at least. You could lie there thinking, “Well, at least I’m not dead. In a minute somebody is going to bang on the lid, and tell me to come out.”
“Hey you! What’s your name? Come out of there!”
I think I’m going to kill you.