giving jon the smackdown

years ago i met a woman in seoul (i was on holiday, having heard kimchi was good for stamina) who was in the process of moving to nyc. when 'dawn/dong' told me that her motivation was to be on the daily show, i whipped her up a script, informing her, 'just write a book, and with a solid shtick, you'll get on no problem!' of course, i just wanted someone to give jon--my nemesis! (see WHALES conception)--the smackdown. i thought surely this small, kind of bitchy asian woman would finagle her way onto the show if she put forth the effort. alas, she recently contacted me to say that she was leaving ny because it smells of pee (like seoul doesn't?) and never did get on the show. i'm posting the script here in hopes it not go to waste (ladies, 안뇽하세요?).

Dawn/Dong on Jon's Show
June 27, 2007
[note the date: the bitch had over 2 years to get on the show. meh.]

JS: Hello! Welcome to the--whoa.

D/D: What, what’s wrong? Oh, well, I’ve never been to New York. Never been to a big city--I don’t know how BIG CITY folk dress. In Seoul, it’s perfectly hip--

JS: To pair maroon with magenta? (laughs) And Seoul--Seoul is one of the biggest cities in the--

D/D: Okay, technically Seoul’s a city, but, you wanna get technical? Because this bodice is crimson, and the gauchos? Technically they’re mauve.

JS: I stand corrected. (smirks)

D/D: And the shoes? Dude, I wear these to accentuate my size. (holds up foot to show aqua ballet flats)

JS: Dong, you’re 4-foot, and you’re wearing--

D/D: That’s right, Jon. I like to be lifted.

JS: Lifted? What--what does that mean, 'lifted'?

D/D: Well, I’m sure as hell not talking about ‘This Week in God.’

(audience laughs)

JS: If those slippers are what you call lifted, man, you gotta look up Kim Jong-Il’s cobbler. (laughs)

(audience is silent)

D/D: Jon, Jon--are you finished?

JS: (stops laughing)

D/D: What I meant by lift is just that. You know, elevated--

JS: What?

D/D: Picked up. Lifted. Off the floor.

JS: Wh--?

D/D: Being a dwar--petite--is a great way to get picked up and spun around, tossed about. If the guy is hunky enough, it’s like having my own amusement park.

D/D: (pauses, smiles, swings feet) So...?

(audience goes wild--chanting Lift-Lift-Lift!)

JS: (leans over, examines D/D, squeezes own biceps)

D/D: What, what now? What are you looking at? Oh, that? (big laugh) Come on now, you know TV adds 20 pounds.

JS: I don’t know--

D/D: Hey, you can use my inhaler!

JS: Dong, I don’t need--

D/D: Uh, this is kind of embarrassing, but, Jon? The name is Dawn. Dawn. Not Dong.

JS: That’s what I said: Dong.

D/D: It’s Dawn: D-A-W-N.

JS: Uh, I don’t speak Mandarin--

D/D: I’m not Chinese--I’m from New York!

JS: Hey, I’m not a Chomsky aficionado--wait a minute, didn’t you just say you’d never been to--

D/D: Dawn is an English term. You know, as in it dawns on her that she may be on the wrong show.

JS: Now--

D/D: JOHN--see, how do you like it, JOHN?

JS: (looks helpless)

D/D: (whispers) I said John with an H.

JS: Touché.

D/D: Anyway! Shall we tackle some real issues here?

JS: Yes! Let's--

D/D: You know, you never discuss women’s issues--and I think it’s high time you did.

JS: Okay--salient women’s issues it is! (waves pen around) Now, wasn’t it just the anniversary of Title IX? How long has it been--34, 35 years?

D/D: (waits)

JS: Uh, okay. Do you live in South Dakota?

D/D: (drinks water)

JS: (looks lost)

D/D: Thongs, Jon. (rolls eyes) Women and their thongs: needs to be addressed.

JS: Now we’re talking, bo-yee! Thongs: they’re so small, my wife carries an extra pair in her locket. But it’s like the sock phenomenon: they always disappear in the--

D/D: Unhygienic.

JS: What?

D/D: Love the look. Hate the feel.

JS: Really? I myself am fond of the feel. (smiles, adjusts in seat)

D/D: Jon, doesn’t that, um, er, chafe your chode--?

JS: Cho--?

D/D: That part between your ballsac and your ass--

JS: Does it chafe your chode?

D/D: No--I said ballsa--

JS: Oh, yeah. (blots forehead with tie)

D/D: And I don't wear them: they're NASTY.

JS: (blots with vigor)

JS: Alrighty! Dawn--D-A-W-N. It's a nice name, by the way.... Yessiree.

D/D: (looks at invisible watch on wrist)

JS: Ah! Didn’t you say you had a pertinent question for me--one you said would give Americans insight regarding my place in popular culture?

D/D: Oh, yeah, that.

JS: Bring it, bitch!

D/D: I still wanna know how you wear--

JS: (clears throat) We’re moving on.

D/D: Okay. (pauses) Okay, boss-man, my question is this: in the film of your life, who would play you? a) Hilary Duff b) Lance Bass or c) Apu

JS: Uh....

(audience laughs)

(crowd shouts A!s B!s and C!s)

D/D: They’re torn.

JS: Well, why don’t you tell me, since apparently you’re the omniscient one?

D/D: (thinks a moment) Duude--you’re so Apu.

(audience cheers)

JS: (addressing crowd) Thank you. (plays with pen and papers)

D/D: (beams)

JS: Dong, thanks so much for coming. Everybody, the book is I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butthead!: Jon Stewart’s Appeal in Youth Culture--and, well, it’s fucking brilliant.

(audience roars)

kindle starts a fire (in the loins)

there's a hot debate going on over the value of kindle, amazon's ebook reader, or ereader, or whatever. as you know, i like the book and on occasion, say, when vacationing in remote lands, where there's no tv, cinema or men of acceptable cleanliness, i've been known to read it. so naturally i must weigh in on this kindle thing. i haven't used one, nor have i seen one, but i agree that it will change the face of books, publishing and the universe in general, eliterature in specific. sure, it's easy to dismiss these ewhazitwhozies due to the limited ebooks available, lack or poor quality of pictures/photos and the inability to simply leaf back and forth as i love to do with a paperback (also, i frequent the front and back covers, for clues as to what the hell book is about), not to mention the exorbitant price tag and stupid name, but there's one thing that clinched it for me: no more snickers at my favorite reading material. by the way, the following are (no, really) available in kindle editions (and, as bezos points out, you can read with one hand). i know, i know: i'm a hopeless romantic.















and topping the WHALES reading list:














and not just for us literati, there are practical books some people need read--and would--if none would be the wiser:














in light of all this, i say, the uberjolly bezos is positioned nicely for the hilton prize (if the prize were awarded by pervs).

election day/night

i know i have yet to comment on obama's stunning upset and consequently i've had to face an onslaught of email/messages demanding my reaction, thoughts, further instruction, etc. i don't condone nagging, but have decided it's time i comply. as you might have guessed, i was pained by the outcome (but time heals all wounds, and it's been weeks). here are the three main reasons:

1. i am a not a woman who takes readily to change; i like routine, and predictability. for years, i have had the same breakfast every morning.

and we all know how i regarded sarah palin, what with her uber chic crab motif and tattoos. but even more appealing to me was her promise of a smooth, seamless transition in the white house--to palin's 'never, ever did i talk about, well, gee, is africa a country or a continent?' from w's 'families is where our nation finds hope, where wings take dream.' what could be easier than that? ignoramus a philistine (et vice versa).

obama, on the other hand, has already begun surrounding himself with the 'nation's brightest' (e.g., clinton, volcker). 'smart' people in the white house after close to a decade: it will take some adjusting.

2. i read an interview with the abominable stephen colbert and jon stewart. this is what colbert had to say about the election:

The Democrats are going to change everything. We're going to have gay parents marrying their own gay babies. Obama's gonna be sworn in on a gay baby. The oath is gonna end ''So help me, gay baby."

uggh!

3. i got so hammered on election night reveling--i mean, ululating--that i don't remember much about it. i vaguely recall cancan dancers, masked men in unitards a la borat and kissing booths. my friend tells me, in the end, i laid down on the street to kiss it and praise jesus i didn't have to move to canada--i mean, barf and smash my fabulous updo:

jon responds!

today, i received THIS:

Dear Ms. C.,

On behalf of Jon Stewart and The Daily Show I am compelled to write after reading the description of this WHALES group. Before you and your subscribers become too dismayed, what may be the cause of the demise of your group I believe will ultimately leave you, well, happier.

Let me preface by saying that we at The Daily Show do peruse facebook/myspace/etc., to keep abreast of what our fans/foes are saying about us. It is a type of research. We have never before interacted with these groups—not unlike a wildlife observer crouches in the bush—to ensure said groups/interactions remain candid. We have decided to make an exception with WHALES due to the potentially serious danger it poses to impressionable, young women.

After I presented to Jon your letter (upon which WHALES is based, according to 'WHALES conception'), although flattered, he agreed that disclosure was in order:

Furst of all, I do not have meaty soccer-player calves. From the waist down, I am very Nicole Ritchie.

2. Whut does incendiary mean?

3. Sometimes when I fart, I poo a little.

4. A cock of steel?! I’ll have you know that phrase kept me up for days.

5. I DO like satyrs.

6. So…can I preorder some of those shit-brown undies? (see #3)

7. Are you insane, woman?—Colbert is so fuckable.

8. I was going for ten things, but I can only think of ate.

Now you see, and it does young women a disservice to belong to a group based on lies. There are no men out there with wings and fins and legs (Jon: Whatever the fuck that means). There are only men with calves in states of varying atrophy and shittypants.

I advise you take down your page and disband…unless I’m making your point? Uh….

Anyway, sincere regards,

R. A.
Writer, The Daily Show with Jon Stewart