To paraphrase American Humorist Laureate Mark Twain, f you care very much about satirical/absurdist web logs or blubber sandwiches, don't watch how they're made.
So. I feel like we’ve let this… what’s the word? Go on. We’ve let this go on long enough.
Maybe a better way to say it would be “tried it out.” We tried it out, and… maybe it didn’t work.
You’re telling me what to write.
Absolutely not.
That’s not what’s happening here. We’re asking. Asking?
Asking. Definitely asking.
We’re asking you to just like… drop. Let go of. Release. Like catch-and-release fishing?
Nice. Apt.
The concept. I mean, Deliverance: The Musical.
Conceptually? Very, very strong.
But it doesn’t really go anywhere. Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret: The Musical?
Not as strong. And it doesn’t, well, it doesn’t add to itself or the theme.
And we’re not particularly theme-y.
You’re telling me what to write.
We’re not. Were asking you what not to write. And I think there’s a difference there.
There’s a subtle but important distinction between the two. Definitely.
Total creative control. That’s what you said. Not to, you know, bring up old shit.
How about talking us through where you’d hoped to go with this latest one.
Prove us wrong.
Well, I had thought about building up. I mean, there is the school of thought that says something is initially amusing, or even moderately funny, and becomes more so through repetition ad absurdum, until it reaches the saturation threshold, after which it becomes painfully unfunny, after which, with yet more repetition, it becomes exponentially funnier. There’s probably a mathematical formula that describes it, but I’m a liberal arts girl.
You’re talking about the Peter principle.
From Family Guy.
I suppose I am.
Seth MacFarlane is an empty douchebag.
We’re not looking for humor principles based upon Bro TV.
So, again. Talk us through this. Please.
I don’t have anything to say for myself. Except that “go on” is two words.
What?
You were looking for “a word” when we began this discussion. A word. And “go on” is two words.
Were you going to write any accompanying text for Moby Dick: The Made-For-TV Movie: The Musical? Tell me you were at least going to caption it cleverly.
I thought I would find a photo of Patrick Stewart caressing Moby Dick as they went under the waves together. That look of ecstasy on Patrick Stewart’s face, it really stuck with me in uncomfortable ways when I saw it in fifth grade. I knew before I knew that there were directorial choices being made that were either questionable or intentionally… well, you know.
We know.
Fuck it. Run the thing.
Thanks.
Think The Adventures of Priscilla: Queen of the Desert, except on the ocean.
