A tweet from funnymun Paul F. Tompkins alerted me to this video, which is simply titled “Greatest Speech Ever”. Care to disagree? If you watch this and don’t find it the Greatest Speech Ever, I will seriously doubt your greatness judgment abilities.
Part of me wants to break this video down piece by piece, along with the words of master orator Tim “Wild Thing” Lepard. But is that the proper response in the face of such exquisite art as this? Shouldn’t we just stand back and admire it? I say yes, we should. (Though if you need more info on Mr. Lepard, you can learn more here, or at your local library I’m sure.)
Not much more to say, except to share this comment on the video’s YouTube page:
A new season of Superego has arrived, which is as good an excuse as any to proclaim my love of Superego to the world.
Superego is a podcast I have been thoroughly digging for the past year or two. Assembled by Jeremy Carter, Matt Gourley, Mark McConville, and Jeff Crocker (plus a steady stream of fantastic super-guests), it is one of the funniest things I’ve consumed in many a moon, in any medium.
The show is a series of semi-improvised sketches, framed as “case studies” of some type of personality disorder. The sketches themselves are perfect mix of high production values (like Fireside Chats from FDR that sound just like old radio) and the willingness to leave in fantastic “mistakes,” like the actors breaking up mid-joke or struggling to think up a punny rhyme. They don’t attempt to capture a “universe” per se, the way that The Best Show does at times, and yet Superego still manages to have a cohesive voice and feel, and a penchant for wordplay that is almost British in its exactitude (even when spoofing very American targets like televangelists).
Oh, and Superego is also hilarious. This is the part where I tell you how funny the show is when you’d be much better off just listening to it. Just on the off chance you need some convincing as to Superego’s ear-worthiness.
Superego uses recurring characters, which rank high on my list of comedy bete noirs, since I think they’re often used as crutches or shortcuts to laughs (crutch-cuts?). But Superego’s recurring characters are so well done they pierce my flinty prejudices. Like Shunt McGuppin, a perpetually inebriated country singer with a penchant for singing insanely inappropriate lyrics (“I WAS FIVE TIMES NEKKID!”), occasionally with an unlikely collaborator like Andrew Lloyd Weber or David Bowie.
Or an all-request radio show, Heartlines on the Shore, with an endless series of insane dedications. “If you could play the song ‘I’m All Out of Love’ for Jenny, and if you could do me the great favor of altering the song to say that I am not actually all out of love. Is that something you could do? Is that a service you provide?”
Or one of my favorites a troubled young man, Trevor Lundegard, who labors under the delusion that every movie ever made is Spiderman 2 (or Spidermun 2, as he pronounces it), including Citizen Kane. (“Spidermun 2 owns a newspaper and he’s like, ‘Rose-butter,’ cuz he really likes bread.”)
Supergo also specializes in one-off, pitch-dark sketches, such as an ad for a doll called My Baby Dreamer. The haunting jingle contains ominous lines like “she’s got a dark secret…” and is interrupted by terrifying demonic howling. Or a hearing test recording for children in which competing voices tell the listener not to raise their hands as previously instructed if they know what’s good for them, in slowed-down, horrifying voices.
Did I mention guests? Let’s mention them further! Paul F. Tompkins lends his talents to the show frequently, playing parts like Nathan the Silverback Gorilla (a preternaturally articulate and self-aware primate) and a radio announcer detailing the J.C. Penney’s “End Of Days Sale.” Superego has also featured appearances by Jason Sudeikis, Drew Carey (who called it “modern Firesign Theater,” a high and accurate compliment), Tom Scharpling, Rob Delaney, James Urbaniak, and whole slew of funny luminaries.
How much do I believe in this show? This is my guarantee: Listen to that there episode below. If you do not find something that made you guffaw out loud, write me a detailed reason why you found it unfunny and I will send you something. It might be a book, it might be a piece of string. Who knows? Actually, no one will know, because I am positive I won’t have to make good on this vague promise. And if you do dig Superego, do yourself a favor and purchase the old episodes. Each one is worth every penny.
I’ve already tweeted about this, and Facebooked it, and mouth-talked it. But on the off chance you have yet to see this masterpiece, here ’tis: the video for Ted Leo’s “Bottled in Cork”, directed by Tom Scharpling, starring Paul F. Tompkins, Julie Klausner, John Hodgman, and a slew of other awesome folk, as they bring Ted to the Great White Way in his musical The Brutalist Bricks! (No Refunds).
Sharp-eyed WFMU-ophiles may spot Terre T, AP Mike, Therese, and some other righteous people. Fortunately for your eyes, you can not see me.
Ya see, I volunteered to be in the crowd scene (brag), but the shoot time got moved up to 4pm, when I would have still been at work. I toyed with the idea of sneaking out early to make the scene, but my German half demanded that keep my nose to the grindstone. (My Irish half was totally down with splitting work and giving everyone the finger as I left.)
Thus, I was denied a shot at rock n’ roll immortality.* And a month later, I was let go from this job. There’s a lesson in there somewhere, though I’m not quite sure what it is.
*Actually, I may have already achieved rock n’ roll immortality, since my enormous bald head can be briefly seen in crowd shots in the following concert films: Fugazi’s Instrument, The Make-Up’s Blue Is Beautiful, and the aforementioned Mr. Leo’s Dirty Old Town. If you can find those movies and spot me in them, you win absolutely nothing.
This video is, quite obviously, a play on the trend of musicals based on a particular band’s/artist’s oeuvre–particularly ones that don’t quite gel with traditional Broadway mores. Like, oh, I don’t know, let’s just say Green Day. So I assume, anyway. Because there is no way in hell I will ever see any of these quote-unquote musicals without the aid of hard drugs and harnesses.
Especially after seeing this clip someone tweeted earlier today (forgive me for forgetting who, whoever you are), which comes from the Bob Dylan musical. Hey, remember when there was a Bob Dylan musical? No? You’re lucky.
Me too, sipentiumde. Me too.